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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

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“How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” You shrug.

“Any instinct to nest at all?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?”

You shake your head again. “No.”

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?”

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.”

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?”

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over.

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve.

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?”

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you.

To go back in time and never present as an omega.

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze.

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?”

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you.

You just have to ask.

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you.

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow?

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it.

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...”

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you.

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.”

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see?

How many scars do they have inside, too?

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.”

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier.

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.”

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you?

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents.

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller.

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.”

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping.

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast.

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind.

A nightlight.

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for.

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day.

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he?

You don’t know that.

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega.

You’re a good omega.

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually.

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway.

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips.

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you.

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest.

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack.

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself.

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him.

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base.

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing.

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know.

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you.

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England?

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous.

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you.

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness.

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then.

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush.

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?”

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.”

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.”

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.”

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes.

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?”

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.”

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark.

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now.

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions.

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.”

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.”

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.”

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.”

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.”

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment.

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long.

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water.

“Quite a ways.” He answers.

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack.

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice.

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat.

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours.

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in.

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you.

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top.

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.”

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat.

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to.

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him.

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s.

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water.

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below.

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here.

“A training exercise.” He says finally.

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it?

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.”

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?”

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.”

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench.

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.”

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity.

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch.

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.”

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.”

Your frown deepens. “But-”

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.”

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that.

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds.

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin.

They’re not from the cold either.

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while.

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence.

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.”

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area.

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.”

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him.

He probably knows you already have.

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head.

Don’t back down.

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him.

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets.

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment.

He could have had worse ones, you always thought.

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness.

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck...

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you.

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about.

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?”

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas.

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.”

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out.

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?”

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.”

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action.

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-”

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.”

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha.

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly.

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.”

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.”

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.”

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion.

You want to kneel for him.

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase.

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin.

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days.

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.”

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?”

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin.

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.”

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks.

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout.

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.”

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base.

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.”

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style.

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you.

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs.

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep.

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.”

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.”

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair.

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing.

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?”

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder.

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental.

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet.

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.”

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek.

“Stubborn little omega.”

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally.

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again.

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions.

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door.

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp.

You know what they’re going to think.

The stares you’ll get.

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you.

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy.

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.”

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room.

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.”

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend.

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need.

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you.

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare.

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.”

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way.

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger.

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him.

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.”

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.”

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess.

“What do you want?”

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer.

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation.

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out,

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you.

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega.

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once.

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again.

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit.

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything.

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you.

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it?

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you.

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent.

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks.

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well.

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.”

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins.

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-”

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket.

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists.

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch.

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside.

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch.

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.”

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your body looking in.

“Probably not.” Ghost says.

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.”

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there.

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax.

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it.

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?”

“Very high.” He answers.

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.”

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains.

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit.

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand.

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.”

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again.

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind?

“Teach me to fight.”

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years.

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring.

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha?

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence.

Monday. Early.

You’ll be ready.

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

#call of duty fic #call of duty #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #x reader

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coryosbaby · 5 months

Text

—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #dom! Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfic

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phoward89 · 2 months

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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.

Masterlist here

Heartless Pt. 2

Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.

But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.

A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.

That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.

Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.

7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.

Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.

Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.

It was genius, his mentor’s idea.

Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.

Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.

Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…

Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.

Ring, ring, ring…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”

“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”

“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.

On a district base.

Oh no! Not that!

“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.

“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”

Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.

Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.

Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.

You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.

As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.

When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.

The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.

Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.

Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.

She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”

Cassian Xandros.

A name befitting a Snow heir.

“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.

His son.

Cassian Xandros.

Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.

She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.

What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.

Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.

If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.

Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.

When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.

He looked just like him.

Was his little mini me.

He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”

Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”

The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.

His father's murderous, monstrous arms.

When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.

And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.

No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.

That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.

A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.

Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.

The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.

Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.

He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.

Not when he could help it.

He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.

But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.

Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.

“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”

“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.

They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.

The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.

She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.

She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.

The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.

Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.

She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.

“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.

How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.

“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”

“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”

Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.

Was he supposed to agree with her?

Well, he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his heir to die.

And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.

“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.

“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.

A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.

“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.

“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”

Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”

Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.

He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.

Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.

“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.

“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.

Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.

The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.

“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.

Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.

Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.

You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.

Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”

You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.

“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.

As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.

“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.

“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”

Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”

“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”

You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.

Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.

Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.

Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.

So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.

Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.

After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow fanfiction #tbosas fic #thg fanfiction

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toxicanonymity · 10 months

Text

Black Math. Left in Lincoln, pt. 5

8.6k words. dark dbf!Joel Miller x virgin!reader story master list / spotify playlist / joel master

🍑 amazing art by @bonezone44 💙

Now spicier courtesy of the label His smile faded as he looked at you, then he added hoarsely, “God, if you knew how many times I’d thought about you.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of shame in his voice. It had the warmth in your cheeks traveling down, down, down. . . “We’re almost there, baby, but we gotta do it right. We’re almost there, I promise.” He reached into his pants to tuck in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was there. Your eyes fixated on the bulge in his jeans. “God damn,” he exhaled. “Turns me on thinkin’ about it.”

WARNINGS: I8+, Not graphic, but it gets twisted. Lots of plot, including flashbacks, disturbing implicit horror (really), angst, brief self-shaming, big girthy age gap (reader is legal the whole time), pet names and praise, toxic dark joel/fluff, family fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, yearning, pining, obsession, grinding, mutual touching, oral f receiving. NO use of Y/N

A/N: This picks up right after part 4. Word-count wise, parts 1-4 were like half of it. There are two more after this, and I wrote a lot on those before finalizing pt. 5. Thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm. It's so rewarding to see people discuss. Additional thanks to @dark-scape for your help, Raider Joel for your support. I couldn't get the text off bold fyi.

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

You awoke to the sound of stairs creaking under heavy steps, a sound you didn’t often hear at home. You blinked awake, still disoriented as your eyes focused. The vanity, the dresser, the empty glass on the nightstand. The closet. Your mind was catching up when the bedroom door opened. Joel was fully dressed with his hair combed back. His brows were knitted in concern as usual, but his eyes brightened when he saw you waking up.

You lifted your head and squinted at him as you propped yourself up with one elbow.

Joel’s tone was as cheerful as you could ever expect to hear it. “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Makin’ sure you're okay.”

“What time is it?”

“Li’l past noon. Still sleepin’? I’ll leave ya ‘lone.”

“I should get up.” You put your head back down on the pillow.

He came over and sat down on the bed. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Good, once I fell asleep.”

“Does the trick, don’t it?” He nodded to the empty glass on the nightstand.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“Dr. Miller, at your service.”

You giggled again and his eyes glazed over as they fell on your smile, your chest, then met your eyes. He leaned over and put his elbow down on the far side of you.

“Well, you’ve made me believe in beauty sleep, peaches.” He put a hand on your shoulder, dwarfing it with his massive palm as he brushed your skin with his thumb. “Always a beauty, but ya wake up even prettier.” Your face got hot and you looked away shyly.

Joel bit his lip, holding back a smile. He traced the outer curve of your ear with his fingers. “Hungry?”

“Kinda.”

“I’ll go make ya somethin’.” He looked at you warmly then kissed you on the forehead before he went back downstairs.

—-----

You took a shower and got dressed. As your hands glided over your soapy body, your palms lingered on your breasts. You imagined Joel showering and realized you couldn’t picture him shirtless. While you were picking out something to wear, you got to thinking again about the closet full of clothes. They were mostly dresses. You put on one of several soft, casual floral ones about knee length.

Before you closed the closet door, you stopped yourself. You had to face it – the dress you saw in the dark the night before. The one that kept you up. Heart racing, you reached into the far right corner and fumbled with a big, satin hanger. You squinted your eyes almost shut as you carefully brought the dress out where you could see it. You looked at it blurry through your lashes. It was more cream than white.

When you finally opened your eyes all the way, an unexpected sense of relief soothed your chest as if the dress were made of love and meant for you. It was simple, but breathtaking. Not the rigid, intimidating garment your anxiety had envisioned. It had a simple A-line silhouette. The high collar and long sleeves were a lace outer dress laid over a solid one with a sweetheart neckline. The skirt was flowy and came down around mid-calf.

It gave you butterflies and you couldn’t help but imagine Joel went out of his way to get this. It felt like a wishful conclusion, like a romantic story you wanted to believe. You tried to talk yourself away from it, not wanting to assume. But at the same time, you still couldn’t figure who would have left it behind. Your heart sank for a moment when you wondered if it could have been intended for Tess, but Ellie always said they were platonic and even slept in separate rooms. Not only were the clothes not anything Ellie or Tess would wear, but Ellie nor Tess ever lived in this house. They were gone before Joel moved down the street. You put the dress way back in the corner of the closet where it came from.

—------------------

When Joel first settled into the community, he moved into a house near Abe’s, clear on the other side of the neighborhood. You met Ellie first. You were in your backyard gardening when she appeared out of nowhere and asked what you were doing. She was a little younger than you, but much more experienced in life, having been out in the world. You were shy to ask her about the horrors of the infected, not wanting to upset her. But she told you all about it anyway – the different kinds, the way they connected underground. You were grateful for your life and recognized the privilege in growing up like you did. Growing up at all.

Bill used to remind you how lucky you were, especially as a teenager when you would have fits about wanting to go out into the world. Somehow, learning from Ellie in more graphic detail about the state of the world didn’t squash your desire to get out there one day. You asked her all about the quarantine zones and FEDRA school, and those sounded fun, even though she didn’t depict them that way. She asked you a million questions about your little community, too.

You never saw much of Joel until after Ellie left. Frank worried about Joel being all alone, having experienced so much loss, so they invited him over for dinner. The first time, Joel was surprised when you answered the door. He apologized and looked around as though he had made some kind of mistake. Then it occurred to you he might have forgotten your name. You couldn’t even remember a time you had formally met, so you introduced yourself.

He took a few seconds. “Right, sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought—well, Ellie, uh—I guess I thought you were younger.”

Joel was polite and didn’t talk much. Bill liked that about him, so they started having him over for dinner regularly. The two of you didn’t share much conversation, but when you did, Joel seemed in awe of how protected you grew up. It made you self-conscious. It wasn’t something you liked about yourself. When Joel noticed this, he clarified it was a really good thing. Rare. The terror of the world affected most people for the worse.

—

Joel didn’t move into his current house until after the Adlers died and someone needed to take care of the peach and apple orchards. He had already been helping them tend the orchards and also helped fix things up around the property as the Adlers’ age caught up with them.

When Joel moved, Frank had the idea to bake something to welcome him to your family’s end of the community. You made a blueberry cobbler. Frank combed his hair and tucked in a plain, button-up shirt. He didn’t ask you to put on a dress, but you did because Frank always had fun getting spruced. He liked to have a reason, even if the occasion was completely manufactured, like the nights he made dinner and claimed his restaurant had a dress code. You couldn’t deny it made for a nice change of pace, and Bill’s eyes brightened, too despite his obligatory grumbling.

When you were ready to take the cobbler to Joel, Bill said the two of you looked like you were going to a wake.

“It’s nice to dress up,” Frank protested. “It shows we care.”

When you and Frank were about to walk over there, Frank started tearing up thinking about the Adlers. They were your neighbors for as long as you could remember. “I can’t, I can’t do it,” Frank said. Bill didn’t want to do it either. He wasn’t planning on it to begin with.

“I’ll take it,” you offered. So they sent you.

—

You walked up to Joel’s (new) house, stopping to admire the gambrel roof. The front door was newly black and smelled like paint, so you weren’t sure where to knock. You rang the bell and it buzzed sadly in a low, broken tone, as though barely hanging on. When you were just about to walk around back and knock, Joel opened the door holding a dish towel and a salty look that softened as saw you. He let go of the door and looked down as he cleaned his hands.

His voice was deep as always, but it struck you more when you were one-on-one without anyone else’s chatter. “Need somethin’?”

“Uh, no. I don’t.” You smiled just enough to not look scared and countered, “Do you need anything?” His presence was intimidating. Handsome and muscular, with a quiet, powerful energy.

He didn’t say anything. Kept cleaning his fingers. Once he looked at you again, he didn’t look away. He stopped messing with his fingers. It was your only private conversation since the first time he came over for dinner. It was more eye contact than he had ever given you. You waited out the silence, then smiled and held out the cobbler for him. “This is for you.”

He put his hands around the dish, careful not to let his dirty fingers touch yours. “You made this?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and took your hands away. His eyes gave the hint of a smile, but his mouth didn’t budge.

“Welcome to the street,” you told him.

He nodded but didn’t offer any more words. He stood there and looked at you until you said, “Well, you know where we are if you need anything. Bye, Joel.” He nodded and watched you walk away.

—---------

Joel and the Adlers. Those were the only people you were aware of who ever lived in that house. You put on another dress. It was a lightweight, black fabric. Low-cut, flowy, came down to your knees with elbow length sleeves that were kind of see through and flared out.

You were too curious not to bring up the clothes. Over lunch, you asked, “The Adlers didn’t have a daughter when they lived here, did they?”

He seemed to be thinking it over as he finished chewing. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Whose clothes are these?”

“Ah,” he said. “Well they’re yours now, peaches.”

You smiled. “Before, though.”

“Why? Do you like’em? They look good on ya. Are they the right size?”

“I like’em a lot. They’re nice, they fit well.”

He raised his eyebrows and proudly revealed, “Picked’em up at the boutique.” His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you for approval. “Wasn’t much left. Wasn’t sure you’d like’em.” He took a bite of his salad.

“Wow,” you nodded. You were nearly speechless that he stocked that room for you. If there wasn’t much left at the boutique, he must’ve grabbed anything in your general size. Maybe that’s how he ended up with The Dress.

“Wanted to have what ya needed here, just in case.” He nodded as he chewed. “S’why it took me a few days to come by after Bill and Frank left.”

“That’s nice, Joel.” It was a little awkward. You didn’t know what to say.

He continued to explain himself. “Men like me and Bill, we’re protectors.” He put down his fork to gesticulate. “So when your papa asked me to make sure you’d be okay, I took it real serious. Did everything I could to be ready for any scenario.”

You slowly nodded and he looked at you in anticipation of further response. You said, “Well, you went above and beyond.”

Your face must have given away your shock. Joel sighed. “Might’ve gotten carried away.” He looked down and lowered his voice. “Been a while since I had someone to care for. I guess the idea of someone even possibly needin’ me. . . ” Your heart hurt for him. “Hell, maybe I wanted to remember what it felt like. Look at me playin’ dress-up, right?” He laughed at himself, but his eyes were somber.

You took his hand into yours and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you, Joel.”

“I’m glad they fit,” he said. “Glad ya can use’em.” He took a sip of water, then quickly swallowed it to clarify, “I mean, I’m not glad ya had to leave home. Just glad I could be here.”

“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand. He kissed yours and let it go. “This is really good, by the way. Love the dressing.”

“It’s basil. Grew it outside. I’ve got some herb seedlings in pots down in the basement. We can try to plant’em if ya want.”

Your face lit up at the possibility of going outside. “Yeah!”

“We’ll do the arugula, too. I dunno about the ‘berries, darlin’, but we’ll try.”

—----

It was a cloudy day, but still nice out. Joel seemed to think it might rain later. After lunch, he loaded up a wagon full of plants and supplies from the basement, and the two of you walked through the orchard. The fresh air was invigorating after being stuck in the house.

“‘Member which tree is ours?” Joel asked.

When you correctly pointed it out, he stopped the wagon and let the handle sit. You looked at him shyly as he looked you up and down. “C’mere.” He gently turned you to face him. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” He cradled your head with both hands. You tilted your chin, then he planted a long, affectionate kiss on your lips.

When you got to the garden beds at the back of the orchard, Joel said, “we should plant’em together so they cross-pollinate. Where do you wanna put’em?” Joel watched your face as you walked around them and evaluated the options.

The garden bed to the right already had a pumpkin vine with beautiful flowers. That bed looked more settled, darker, and fertile. “I didn’t know you had pumpkins,” you marveled. “Maybe by those?”

Joel looked down at the garden bed. “Yeah, hopefully they’ll fruit.” He smiled up at you without raising his head again.

Joel used a spade to dig shallow holes, then you nestled the roots in the holes and both of you patted the soil down. First the arugula, then the basil, then the longshot–the strawberries,

“Pat it down, but not too tight,” he said.

When you were finished, you knelt by the vine and traced a flower with your fingers. Its warm colors were cheerful. “When the pumpkins grow, can we eat’em?”

“Sure, darlin’.” Joel looked down at the vine, squatting right beside you. “Y’know, the flower’s edible, too.”

“It is?” Your stomach rumbled at the thought of eating something new.

Half of Joel’s mouth curled into a small smile. “I reckon you’ve never had a flor de calabaza taco, then. Granted, not sure how ya would’ve.”

“Flor de calabaza?”

“Pumpkin flower. Haven’t had one in a while myself. Go on, pick a couple. Let’s try it.”

You plucked one. “Good choice,” he said, giving you a flashback to when he caught you with one of his peaches. The embarrassment flooded you all over again as you picked two more. Joel saw your face change, and he smiled, hopefully not thinking about the origin of your nickname. You wondered how often he thought about it. He picked a flower of his own, leaving a bit of vine on it, then stroked your cheek and said “c’mere.” He looked in your eyes and put his flower behind your ear. He kissed you on the lips, then wrapped an arm around you and began to stand, bringing you up with him.

Joel looked up at the sky, squinting. “Ah, hell. Gimme that cloth.” He knelt down and finished patting the soil as you retrieved the cloth from the wagon. You helped him cover the newly planted arugula, basil, and strawberries to protect them from washout.

—--

You hung out in the kitchen, helping Joel make dinner. The apple blossom in the jar still looked beautiful. He knew how to take care of things. You washed the pumpkin flowers, then twirled one against your nostrils as Joel cooked wild turkey. You inhaled the petals and tried to imagine what they’d taste like. Joel cooked the flowers with the turkey. They were delicious. Granted, anything new to eat was appealing in principle. Novelty was its own seasoning.

After dinner that night, Joel needed to do some work outside before the rain. He showed you a shelf of books and games near the fireplace, then watched your face as you browsed them. You picked up one that you liked as a girl but hadn’t read in years. Joel went out through the basement. You heard him dragging a tarp out.

There were a lot of thoughts distracting you from your book. Your feelings for Joel overwhelmed you. At certain moments, it felt too good to be true. You also reflected on your intimacy and felt like things were moving fast. You understood why: you felt safe and protected, and your body’s physical need for his was totally natural. But the speed also made it feel fragile somehow. Like if you looked down, you might be falling through the air, not realizing you ran off a cliff.

There was also the question: If a connection this special formed so quickly, could it come undone just as fast? You couldn’t rid your head of his wounded face when you said you were lonely. You hurt his feelings and panicked, as if you needed to give him everything you could at that moment to prove that you loved him. As much as you enjoyed having him in your mouth like that, it felt impulsive in hindsight. Desperate, and you hoped he didn’t see it that way. Pathetic, even. But the memory of it turned you on all the same.

You replayed other encounters in your mind and felt like you were largely the one driving things. Burying your fear and grief in his lap. It embarrassed you to think about, but you also felt relieved that there wasn’t really any pressure. It was like Joel said, whatever you want and that’s all. You said you wanted it in your mouth, and of course he wouldn’t discourage it. Then he wouldn't be giving you everything.

The sound of metal banging then scraping on concrete stirred you from your thoughts. Then the basement door opened and shut twice.

—------

When Joel came back inside, it was nearly your typical bedtime and you were cozy on the sofa. You were curled up on your side with the book on your thigh and your eyes closed. You were only half asleep, but you let him take the book. He also spread a blanket over you. When his bedroom door closed, you sat up and opened the book again. There was a black thumbprint on the open page, and it smelled like ash. It gave you butterflies to see his thumbprint. You liked the idea of having part of him in the book as you read it. You knew how irrational these feelings were, but it didn’t stop them.

Joel’s shower turned on. The walls were so thin that you could hear everything. A cabinet opening, the shower door, changes in the rhythm of the water flow. You could hear that he brushed his teeth in the shower. Maybe not just in the shower. He always seemed to taste fresh. A few minutes after the water turned off, Joel came out of his room in jeans and a white t-shirt that wasn’t tucked in. The shirt hugged his pecs and arms and gave you an even deeper, needier appreciation for his physique. The casual look was really attractive on him. You needed him so bad it hurt. If you couldn’t have him forever, you weren’t sure what you would do. If he ended up with anyone else—there was no reason for this thought to even cross your mind, but the fleeting idea of it made your temples weak. He was too perfect.

You were sitting on the couch hugging your knees when he sat down next to you. He put his hand on your knee and dipped his head to look at you. You took a deep breath through your nose. Mint and pine. His post-shower fragrance made your chest tingle.

“You okay, peaches?”

“Yeah.” You mustered a smile. “Just tired. Guess I should go to sleep.”

“Sure, darlin’. Want me to tuck you in?”

Your heart sank at the lack of an invitation. “Yeah.”

Joel took your hand and led you upstairs. While you were in the bathroom getting ready to sleep, Joel made the bed for you before turning the covers down for you to get in.

“There ya go.”

“Thanks.” You got under the covers, tempted to make room for him but not wanting to come on too strong or look desperate.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned over you like he had in the morning. “Need anything at all, I’m right downstairs.”

“Thank you.”

Joel kissed you goodnight. You were a little sad when he didn't try anything, but you had already said you were tired. In your heart, you felt like he'd always be patient with you. If you wanted to slow things down, it was yourself you had to worry about. But in your heart, that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. You just hoped Joel didn’t think less of you for needing him so much.

—-----------

You woke up in the middle of the night to a deafening clap of thunder. You sat up and your hand went to your chest. You could feel your heart pounding. The wash of your blood through your valves echoed in your ears. Outside, branches rustled loudly and snapped in the wind.

You were unsettled lying there awake and alone. You wondered why Joel didn't just have you sleep in his bed. Maybe he was trying to be respectful, but these were the things that made you second guess the pace on your end. You lay there alone, and began to hear creaking and clattering indoors that made your heart race. Joel was right downstairs, but he never felt so far away. The thunder was okay, but the other noises made your mind race with thoughts of whatever happened the other night at your house. Whatever Joel saved you from. The distorted version of Call Me echoed in your mind.

You worked up the courage to get out of bed. You crept downstairs like you did the night before. A flash of lightning startled you. When a louder, longer crack of thunder followed, you quickened your steps, hanging onto the bannister for dear life so you wouldn’t slip in the dark.

Joel’s bedroom door was cracked open, so you let yourself in. It was almost pitch black dark. He was on his back in the middle of the bed with the covers pulled half down. You couldn’t make out his face, but his breathing told you he was fast asleep. You went around to the side farthest from the bedroom door and smoothed your nightgown under you as you lifted up the comforter and gently sat down. You brought up your feet and slipped under the covers. Joel’s breathing changed, but he didn’t move until there was a louder clap of thunder. You scooted closer and whispered his name.

His head jolted up and he gasped. “You okay?”

“Yeah. But I got scared of the storm.”

“‘C’mere, darlin’.” He turned onto his side to face you and stretched his arm out. You scooted over and laid your head on it. He draped his other arm over you. “You’re okay, I got ya.” He pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your forehead.

You lay there with your arm nestled between you and your hand on his chest. He touched your hair and kissed you on the head a few more times, then dipped his head to kiss your lips, nudging your head up to face him. The kiss was languid and both your lips came to a rest without pulling away. You stayed like that, both of you breathing through your noses with your lips nestled between each other’s. His breathing slowed again, and your breath began to match his. Your lips finally fell away as you drifted off in his arms to the sound of the storm.

In the middle of the night, you woke up on your back with Joel half on top of you, one of his legs between yours. You stirred and he put more weight on you. He sighed your name without waking up, and the sound of it in his mouth gave you butterflies. Then he fisted your nightgown over your breast and slurred, “‘m sorry.” His body jerked and he gasped, then relaxed again. A few seconds later, he mumbled, “had to.” His breath deepened. “For us.”

Your mind became an empty pit, and your heart raced. “Had to what,” you whispered.

“Please." He became unintelligible. "Please," he repeated in distress.

“Had to what, Joel?”

He jolted awake at the sound of his name. He jerked his head up then relaxed as he felt you beneath him. “You ok, baby?”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He took some of his weight off you, rolling back onto his side and resting a massive hand on your chest. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder for a few seconds. Then you asked, “What were you dreaming about?”

“Hmm. . . didn’t know I was dreamin’,” he said. “But I reckon I’d dream about you, darlin’.”

“What about me?”

“Ohh, you and me. . .” He kissed your nose, then your lips, then whispered, “and the rest of our lives.” His words bypassed your mind and wrapped your heart in the tightest little hug. It was already getting difficult to imagine a future without him. You could hardly picture it at this point. What would you even be doing? The same things you’d done your whole life, at the same house, with no hope of meeting someone to share it with. Even if you met someone, you couldn’t possibly imagine anyone else making you feel this way.

—-----------

The storm had died down. By then, it was just the loud patter of rain, darkened with a steady rumble. Joel pulled you close and planted light kisses on your mouth. Then he slid his tongue between your lips and the kisses became deeper. He shifted to hover over you, and you reached out to trace his form, starting with a hand on each pec, sliding them over his shoulders and down to where his triceps stretched his sleeves. You could imagine nothing hotter than Joel with his hair out of place, shoulders and biceps bulging through his white t-shirt. He leaned down to kiss you like he hadn’t seen you in days.

He lowered himself to lay half on top of you again, and you felt the warm shape of his cock hardening against your hip. You and me, and the rest of our lives. . . Between his words, his weight, and his passion, you melted under him. He rested his forearms on either side of your torso. He planted a kiss on your cheek, then your chin, then your throat. His lips opened and closed, opened and closed, crawling wetly up and around your throat without ever breaking contact. His hips pushed his hardness against you and you sighed. He sealed his lips in the crook of your neck and sucked, moaning quietly into your skin. He tore his mouth from your neck with a low sigh to say, “You’re gorgeous, baby.” His voice was hoarse from sleep or want.

He sealed his lips around yours and you could feel his affection with every brush of his tongue. You could taste all the words he wanted to say–that he was desperate for you, would do anything for you, could never lose you. You kissed him back, slowly but hungrily, your hips lifting into him, telling him without words that he could have all of you, you were truly his. You kissed harder, your mouth hanging onto his for dear life, and he moaned into your mouth. A groan was building in your chest but you just wanted to hear him.

—

He sighed as his hardness dug into you, then his hand reached down between your legs, under your nightgown. He lightly dragged his middle finger up and down the crotch of your panties, still kissing you deeply. Then he traced the same line with several fingers flattened together. He broke the kiss to try to read your eyes in the dark. Then he said, “God, I love you so much.” Before you could say it back, he covered your mouth with his. His hips slowly rolled into you as he sucked and tasted your mouth. The rhythm of his stiff cock against your hip made you physically weak with desire.

You tried to shift your hips under him. He got the message and put himself between your legs, resting both his forearms on the bed again. With his cock laying heavily against your mound, you ached with need, dying to be filled, at least by his fingers. But you were also a little shy about how needy you felt. He kissed you with so much love, and you felt just as much for him, but your brain took over for a moment and your lips stopped moving.

The moment you started overthinking it, Joel noticed and pulled back. He experimentally grinded his cock against your front. He leaned his temple against yours and whispered, “Just ‘cause it's there don’t mean ya gotta do anything with it.”

You breathed an internal sigh of appreciation, even though you were salivating to have it in your mouth again. To have it anywhere, everywhere.

—

He cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “I just wanna make ya feel good. Can I do that?” You nodded “mm-hm,” and his hand returned between your legs, ghosting your clit through the fabric. “Cause I don’t have to,” he went on. “Won’t hurt my feelings if ya go back to your bed, okay?” You nodded. “We’ll just do what you want,” he said. Except for what I want most, you thought to yourself.

Joel reached down to adjust his boxers, then he backed up and kissed his way down your body. Every press of his lips through the satin gown made you throb more. The faint silhouette of his hair made you imagine he was looking up at your face after every kiss, making sure you were still with him. Of course you were. The nightgown had already ridden up. He pushed it further, planted his head between your legs, and kissed you through the cotton of your underwear—softly, then harder. His mouth drew a long sigh out of you as the tension inside you swelled.

His fingers hooked into the hem of your panties and he slowly dragged them down. He covered your warmth with his mouth before you could feel the cool air. The underside of his tongue licked down your dripping seam as his fingers on your thighs continued pulling your panties down.

His head broke away to finish taking them off, and he breathed, “you’re my favorite taste in the world, baby.”

His mouth returned between your legs, and he devoured you just like before. Licking, sucking, flicking his tongue, moaning into you. When he began to fuck you with his tongue, your need to be filled by his cock only strengthened and demanded attention. You said, “Get me ready.”

“Hmm?”

“Ready for you. . .You said my body has to be ready, too.”

He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his wrist, and you could almost see his smile in the dark. “That what ya want?” His hair was out of place already, which made you want him even more.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“That’s what we’ll do.”

—-

He started while he was still between your legs. He inserted a finger and kept kissing your clit while you sighed. He pulled his head away and flattened his fingers. He gently rubbed you as he crawled back up the bed and stopped with his face near yours.�� His face hovered an inch from yours as he rubbed your desperate, slippery, beautiful mess. He stroked you just right, then pushed his finger back into you, his lungs audibly sucking in a long, deep breath.

Your head tilted up and your mouth fell open. He pushed the finger to the hilt and an obscene moan fell out of your mouth.

“Oh baby, you sound so beautiful.” He began to move his hips against your thigh. “This okay? Or you want me to take it away.”

“No, no, don’t take it away.”

He exhaled half a laugh and slowly pumped his thick finger, staying mostly inside you, curling against your front wall. “How’s it feel?”

“Really good,” you whispered. “Gimme another like last time.”

His cock twitched against you and he kissed you as he slowly pushed another finger in. He moved them in and out and his hand hugged your mound as he did it. Your hips lifted into his hand and you broke the kiss with a sigh that became a whimper. He groaned softly at your desperation and kept rutting against your thigh, fucking you slowly with his fingers. After following a steady rhythm for a while, he clamped his palm down on your mound, adding friction to your clit as he worked his hand. He began to bring his fingers out a little more to slicken your clit again. You throbbed and moaned and could hardly stand it.

“Joel,” you sighed, and struggled to find words. You sputtered out, “I —Joel, I just — I want–ugh–want you, so bad.”

His voice was low and soothing. “Ohhhh, I know it darlin’,” he commiserated. He planted a kiss on your neck as he continued the push of his fingers inside you and his cock against you. “You’ll have me, baby,” he murmured huskily. “We’ll have each other.” He worked his fingers and grinded his cock against you in opposite beats of the same rhythm.

“Another one,” you whispered.

“It’s too much, baby.”

“It’s not,” you whined.

“Let’s add one of yours.” He removed his fingers almost entirely and lifted his palm up to make room for your hand under his. “C’mon.” You nestled your hand under his and carefully added your middle finger. You slid your finger in against your front wall, nestled in a triangle with his two fingers as he pushed inside again. You couldn’t reach very far, but it was enough to feel the stretch. His hand engulfed yours and controlled the rhythm. It was a different feeling, touching yourself with your finger nestled under his. You enjoyed the stretch and his hand engulfing yours, but you could only imagine how much better the smooth tip of his cock would feel.

Moving your finger with his, Joel asked, “Feel good?”

“Yours feel better.”

He lifted his palm and you removed your hand. He kissed you as he began pistoning his fingers deeper and harder. He swirled and scissored them as though making room inside you.

“Joel,” you sighed and your spine curved, jutting your breasts into the air. Your nipple fell out of your nightgown and his mouth was on it right away.

He kissed your breast, moaning into your nipple. Then he kissed your chest, then your neck. “God damn, baby,” he murmured hoarsely.

“Just one more,” you begged.

He grunted with a strong thrust against your hip. “Ahh—Might be too much.”

He paused his rhythm and slowly added his ring finger. So slow it was torture.

“No, don’t stop,” you whined. “Just give it to me.”

He gave it to you, grouping his fingers as close as he could together. The stretch burned by the time he was half in, but you asked for more. You winced at the burn and he took the finger back out.

“I’m okay, it felt good,” you reassured him, but he went back to fucking you harder with two fingers instead, and that felt even better since he didn’t hold back. The burn quickly faded, drowned out by a throbbing tingle that consumed your whole torso, and spread to your thighs, down your legs, making your knees weak.

Before long, you were writhing under him. He sucked your breast again and you moaned his name. He sucked your neck, then whispered into it, “You’ll be a beautiful bride.” Your breath hitched and your eyes widened at his words, but you didn’t want him to stop. He continued, “You want that, right?”

You nodded and heard yourself whisper, “yes.”

Joel sighed and brought his lips back to yours. He pressed his hand into your clit as he worked his fingers to bring you over the edge. “Yeah,” he breathed. Your body jerked and you moaned. His hand hugged your cunt as you came. “Ohhh, gooood giirrrl.” He kissed one half of your mouth as your climax continued. His breath was hot against your cheek. “Love feelin’ ya like this.”

—------

The rain had slowed even more, and the thunder was fading. Joel used his wet hand to pull his stiff manhood out of his boxers with a quiet groan. You reached down to feel it and he shivered at your touch.. The tip was shiny with precum, smeared from rutting against you through his boxers. He must have been aching as bad as you were. You took your hand away, opting to wait and see what he had in mind.

“I don’t have to do this here,” Joel said, his voice weak with need. Then he added in good humor, “But it does need doin’,” and those words landed between your legs.

Your lips parted and you took a deep breath, your eyelids heavy from your orgasm. “Do it here.”

Joel gathered more slick from between your thighs, and the contact gave you an aftershock. He stroked himself and breathed heavily. He rested with his hip and forearm on the bed, and you turned onto your side to face him.

He got closer, right up against you with just enough room to stroke himself. You listened to the wet slide of his hand around his shaft, his breathing, his soft grunts. It occurred to you this was something he did regularly, and now you could imagine it so vividly. The idea of Joel thinking about you and getting himself off was almost too hot to bear. You draped your top leg over him.

He fisted himself and kissed your shoulder. He nosed your nipple, then dragged it up until his face lifted off your chest. He grunted softly as he pumped himself and pressed his nose, then his mouth, into your neck. He was farther down than you on the bed, and the head of his cock was so close to where you ached for it, you could feel the heat radiating as he stroked himself. Then it grazed you, sending a zap of energy through your loins.

“I swear I'm ready,” you whispered.

His voice became shaky. “God damn, I wanna pack you full of this.” He grunted with hastening strokes. “That’s what it’s for, baby.” He bowed his head, and his disheveled hair grazed your cheek. He brought his face up again and kissed you on the lips. “Gonna be all yours,” he murmured hoarsely into your cheek, then added, “and you’re all mine."

"I'm all yours."

"Oh, God," he shuddered as he rolled onto his back. "Baby, I—Ohhh," He exhaled loudly and his body jerked as he came onto himself, sighing "ohhh God, baby." He caught his breath and laid there in silence with you. You rolled onto your back again. He sat up and took the soiled t-shirt off, then laid on his side facing you and rested a heavy hand on your chest.

–

With your blood finally flowing back to your brain, you considered what Joel asked and what you said. Yes, you wanted to be his beautiful bride. On some level, it occurred to you that yes was perhaps the only answer, but did that matter if it was your heart’s desire, too?

You asked, “You think we’re meant to be together?”

“Oh, peaches,” he sighed. “I’m sure of it.” He kissed you and stroked your cheek, then held you tighter. “You’re my world, and there is nothin’ I wouldn’t do to be with you.” He rolled you toward him, nestling your head under his chin, and held you until you fell back asleep.

—------------------

When you woke up in the morning, Joel was freshly showered and standing next to the bed, buttoning a flannel shirt as he watched you sleep. When you yawned, his eyes brightened.

“Why don’t I always sleep here?” you asked sleepily.

He laughed silently to himself with a side-eye at the floor. “Don’t trust myself, darlin’.”

Your face burned at the implication and you shyly hid half your face. His smile faded as he looked at you, then he added hoarsely, “God, if you knew how many times I’d thought about you.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of shame in his voice. It had the warmth in your cheeks traveling down, down, down. . . “We’re almost there, baby, but we gotta do it right. We’re almost there, I promise.” He reached into his pants to tuck in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was there. Your eyes fixated on the bulge in his jeans. “God damn,” he exhaled. “Turns me on thinkin’ about it.”

He lightly rubbed his bulge in just one stroke and adjusted himself again from outside the jeans. It didn’t seem like he was trying to start anything, but he got on the bed and hunger spread across his face as he reached you. He kissed you needily and tore the sheets off you. You let him in between your legs and wrapped them loosely around his thighs, your feet resting near his knees. He pulled down your nightgown and sucked your nipple, inhaling deeply through his nose. Then he sucked his neck, and your clit throbbed against the friction of his jeans. He hardened against you and kept on for a minute, not escalating things further. Then he tore himself away with a groan.

—-

“Wish I could stay here all day and just do this,” he lamented as he got off you to sit on the edge of the bed. “But I gotta go to the QZ.”

You protested, “What for?”

“Somethin’ I gotta do every month, as long as the radio says so.”

“Can I come?”

He shook his head. “Too dangerous.” You expected as much.

“You really have to go?”

He sighed. “Yeah, darlin’.”

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“Your parents left you here for a reason, ‘member? Cause it ain’t safe out there. You think they want me takin’ you there anyway?”

“I know. But you said it isn’t safe here either.”

“It’s safe-er here.”

“Just don’t go,” you whined.

“If I don't, they're gonna know somethin's wrong, baby.”

“I don’t-.”

“--nothin’s wrong, but they're gonna think somethin's wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” you reminded him. “Abe’s missing.”

“He–Abe–darlin’.” Joel sighed, shook his head, and abandoned the topic. He looked down and rubbed his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “I’m sorry, peaches. I gotta go, and I can’t take ya with me.”

“Will you check on Frank at the Army hospital?”

Joel hesitated, then said, “Sure, baby.”

“Are you going to Tommy’s? Bill’s staying there, right?”

“I’m gonna try, darlin’. Don’t wanna leave ya for too long, though.”

—----

While Joel made you breakfast, you went upstairs to change. You also sat down at the vanity and used the stationary to write a short note to Bill and Frank.

Love you and miss you so much, but Joel is taking good care of me.

Joel read it. “This is real sweet, peaches. But do you want’em thinkin’ I’m takin’ care of ya? Thought you wanted to show you could do it.” He made a good point. You went upstairs, started over.

I love and miss you both so much. Frank, Please get well soon.

When you gave it to Joel, he folded it up and put it in his pocket. He told you to stay inside, and reminded you not to open the door for anyone but him. He would be back in a few hours.

—----------------------

After Joel left, you lay around for a while thinking about him and your life together. You went to the kitchen and were about to idly open the pantry, when the counter beside it seemed to move, catching your eye. There was a trail of ants leading to the apple blossom in the jar. You stepped back. The blossom that had looked so nice the night before was yellowed and crawling with them. It was like time was moving in slow motion. You left the scene as it was. You grabbed a shiny apple from the basket on the opposite counter and went to the sofa to read. You couldn’t wait for Joel to get home and tell you how Frank was doing. The minutes crawled by, and you tried to immerse yourself in the story to pass the time.

Only a few pages into your book, you were about to bite into your apple when you heard squawking outside. You set down the book and went to look out the kitchen window. You couldn’t see where the noise was coming from. As you looked out into the orchard, you were startled by a tickle on your arm and flicked off an ant with a gasp. You hadn’t so much as touched the counter–it felt unfair. The squawking continued, and you were going stir crazy wanting to go out and see what all the fuss was about.

Less than an hour after Joel left, you decided to break his rule. You knew he was protecting you, but it also didn’t seem fair to expect you to stay cooped up inside all on your own. He could have taken you with him. You knew he could have protected you from any harm that found you. You looked around and couldn’t find your shoes. Not in your room, not by the front or back door, not in the living room. You wouldn’t let that stop you.

You went outside barefoot, careful to look in front of your feet so you wouldn’t step on anything dangerous. The sky was gray and dim and the cool air was refreshing even with its humidity. Branches were scattered everywhere from the wind of the storm. The ground beneath the peach trees was carpeted with yellow leaves sticking wetly to each other. One third of a peach tree was hanging by a thread off its trunk, the tips of the branches scraping the ground with every breeze. It could have snapped off at any moment, while the rest of the tree stood proud like it didn’t know.

You followed the squawking and found an apple tree full of crows. When you approached, they swarmed into the sky, forming a cloud before settling together on another tree. With nothing better to do, you followed them. The second tree was near yours and Joel’s. They flew toward the back of the orchard and you didn’t follow. You shuffled around your tree, looking on every branch for a fresh apple blossom. On the ground, there were layers of leaves and lots of fallen apples. You were moving your feet slowly and carefully, and your toes caught on something inorganic. Something rigid, fabric. You lifted your foot and when the bill of a hat emerged, you reflexively kicked it away as if it were alive or worse. As if you could simply kick away the pit in your gut. Your stomach turned as you looked at your Red Sox cap on the ground.

The crows squawked and squawked, and your heart pounded. You looked around the orchard as if something might be closing in on you. The trees seemed to get closer, the sky seemed to darken. Your thoughts kept repeating, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to be with you. Nothing. Nothing in the world, peaches. You refused to articulate the gut feeling into a thought. You wouldn’t dignify it. You took a deep breath and grounded yourself, focusing on the feeling of the wet leaves stuck to your ankles.

You covered the baseball cap with leaves again, burying the feeling as best you could, and rushed back toward the house. On your way back, you stepped on a broken twig. When you got inside, you saw it was bleeding.

You cleaned up your foot, then it occurred to you to check the living room closet. You opened the closet door, and the other cap—Jesse’s cap—was still there, exactly where you saw it. To your relief, you also found your shoes neatly laid on the closet floor alongside some loafers and boots. You left them untouched.

You settled in with your book again, hoping to distract yourself. You bit into the apple. Your teeth sliced right through the skin and sank into soft, mealy flesh that almost making you gag. You tossed it outside into the leaves because you didn’t want any more ants, then you locked the door behind you. You sat back down on the sofa and didn’t even try to pick up the book again. You resigned yourself to facing your thoughts.

You explored the worst case scenario of what Joel might have done to be with you. You concluded it was silly to think you had been that important to a man you hardly knew. It was narcissistic, you told yourself, to think he loved you that much. That he would really do anything, just to hold you in his arms. It was the fabric of fairy tales, and it was grotesque. Especially because it didn’t disgust you. It gave you butterflies, and not just the nervous kind.

—-------

As soon as you heard Joel’s truck pull into the driveway, your mind returned to Frank. You had a few seconds before Joel came in, and in that time you realized you should greet Joel before asking about anyone else. You didn’t want to be rude. When the door opened, you got up and kissed Joel and told him you missed him. On your way back to the sofa, you noticed a spot of blood from your foot on the flooring and hoped Joel wouldn’t see it.

You sat down on the couch and asked him how Frank was. Joel’s face was solemn as he took a seat next to you and put his hand on your knee. Your chest tightened at this gesture and the next few seconds felt like an hour until Joel spoke.

"He's doin' better, baby."

You broke down in tears of relief. You would have cried no matter what. Whether Frank was better, worse, or even if Joel didn’t see him, there would’ve been tears of happiness, sadness, or fear. Joel took you in his arms and you buried your tears in his neck.

“So they think he’s gonna recover?” you asked.

“Think so.” Joel looked at you, concerned.

“What do they think it is?”

“They’re not sure, darlin’. S’pose it could be an allergy, or environmental. So it’s a good thing you’re here with me.”

“Did you give’em my letter?”

“Yeah.” Joel leaned forward, lifted himself for a moment, and reached into his back pocket. He handed you your letter and you unfolded it so quickly it almost ripped. Joel slowly rubbed your back as you looked at the piece of paper and tried to steady your hands.

There was a note in Frank’s handwriting:

We love you so much. Protect yourself.

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

Thank you all so much for reading and engaging with my unhinged story. Y'all are truly the best. 💙

I challenged myself to do the smut scene with little if any visual description, hope it worked out okay.

I do not expect the next chapter to be nearly as long.

There are more virgins on my joel master list, and you can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for fic alerts.

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

The Lincoln tag list will be on the toxicfics reblog 💙

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#lincoln!joel☠️#tw manipulation #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #content label #cw age gap

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extremelyblackandwhite · 7 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for the delay in this chapter, i fell asleep early last friday and then woke up at like 2AM and felt like watching Barbie instead. anyway, here it is.

masterlist

your wicked smile it says it all mixed with my sad and cynical

Y/N couldn't have followed the nurse faster the moment they told her Sadie was out of the operation room. She couldn't wait to be next to her, to see her. She already didn't like the idea that she hadn't been able to see hr before surgery so now all she wanted to do was not leave her sight. She was led by the nurse into the room they'd assigned Sadie. Once she got to the room, Sadie was already awake, looking at the TV in her room which was showing some cartoon that Y/N was certain Sadie was confused by, judging by her pouting and fiddling of the sheets.

- Hi baby. - Y/N said as she got closer to Sadie. The red head turned around, smiling once she saw her. - What are you watching huh?

The 2-year old looked at her with glazed eyes, still under the effects of anaesthesia and other medications before shrugging. Y/N smiled, kissing her cheek and nose before grabbing the remote and logging into Disney so she could put on some Bluey for Sadie to watch. Her pout soon disappeared as the familiar blue heeler showed up on screen. Y/N straightened the sheets around her, trying to fluff up the pillow only to find it to be flatter than a pancake.

- Hello, hello. - Bucky walked through the door carrying the toy box to place it next to the bed. - How are you, Sisi? Hm? You gave daddy a very big fright.

- Sorry. - Sadie stared at the TV, more interested on the TV show. Bucky scanned through the box before starting to place her favourite plushies around her.

- You got quite a tough one, Sergeant. - Doctor Tinsdale walked into the room, holding a medical board. - Surgery went well and unless something happens, you can take your daughter home. In 2 to 4 weeks, she'll be good as new.

- Thank you. - Bucky shook the doctor's hand. - I really appreciate your help, Dr. Tinsdale.

- Anytime, Sergeant. I'm very glad to have met your daughter and your wife.

Y/N looked up from the bed where she was with Sadie. Should she correct him? She wasn't Bucky's wife but if she said she wasn't maybe Dr. Tinsdale would put two and two together and realise that Sadie was not Y/N's daughter but instead his own daughter's daughter.

- I'm really happy you finally settled down. - Dr. Tinsdale said, making the situation as equally awkward for Bucky. - Always thought you and my Anna would end up marrying but it doesn't look like you've done bad for yourself.

- Yeah ... well ... - Bucky scratched the back of his neck. - Thank you once again.

- I'll leave you three alone.

The door closed and the silence in the room couldn't be any louder. Y/N got to trying to fluff up the pillow again, going nowhere. What's the point in paying a really expensive health insurance if the hospital will only provide crepe thin pillows?

- You're gonna be sued by that pillow if you continue to beat the heck out of it. - he chuckled, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling Sadie next to her.

- Don't say the h word in front of Sadie. - she gave up on the pillow. - I'm gonna go to the gift shop and see if I can buy Sadie a better pillow.

- Y/N, just rest. - Bucky put his hand on her waist to stop her from getting up. - You've been panicking over everything for the past hours. Just sit here with me and Sadie.

- But she needs a pi ...

- I'll tell Steve to bring hers from home when he comes to visit. - he took his phone out of his pocket to text Steve. - By the way ... who did you call? Chris?

- You're obsessed with Chris. - she rolled her eyes, tucking Sadie in and moving her hair away from her face. - If I didn't know better I'd say you're in love with him.

- You know, Anna showed up while you were asleep.

- Really? - Y/N fiddled with the bedding, looking at the TV and now the very interesting episode of Bluey. More interesting than Bucky and his relentless teasing. - Nice chat?

- It's just funny you see because I didn't call her and Steve said he didn't call her.

- Maybe Dr. Tinsdale called her. After all you two used to ... you know ... do things.

- Why would he call her? He thinks you're my wife and Sadie's mum so why don't you cut the lying and admit to calling Anna?

Y/N bite her lip, kissing the side of Sadie's head before telling her she would be right back. Last thing she wanted was to fight in front of Sadie, for all that Sadie knew she and Bucky only talked nice and it was all sunshine and rainbows. Bucky followed her, arms crossed. He didn't know where to find himself if angry or if super angry. How come Steve and Y/N wanted to keep playing peace makers?

- What's with you starting a discussion in front of Sadie?

- What's with me? What's with you? You called my kid's mother without my consent?

- It's not like I fucked her, Bucky, you big drama queen. I called her because you were upset about her not being here.

- You crossed a line. - he pointed at her but she looked at him unbothered. - It's my kid's mother, the most awful woman in the world.

- I think that's an overstatement and you were upset, I wanted you to be happy. Besides, she birthed the kid, it's her right to know if she's ok or not.

- Oh you need me to be happy?

- I don't need you to happy! I just wanted to make you ... have you be happy. You were stressed!

- God, you're such a little ... such a goddamn little ...

- Bitch? - Y/N interrupted him and the colour drained from Bucky's face.

- I didn't say that. - he raised his hands in defense. - I didn't say that.

- Now you listen to me. - she stabbed his chest with her finger, taking a step forward as he took a step backward. - I will not apologise for telling the kid's mother that she's in the hospital. I will not apologise for telling her because if something happened, we might need her. I will not apologise, you hear me? If that makes me a bitch then be it. You wanna fire me? Fine.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something but instead just mumbled sorry before going back to his daughter's room. He thought he needed Anna to be here and she had been here so why wasn't he happy? Y/N stayed outside, she took a deep breathe. Had she crossed the line? Maybe, but she wanted him happy. She dragged her hands down her hair, holding them to the side of her face, closing her eyes.

- Wow, you told him. - a voice made her snap her eyes open. A woman, an elegant woman, made her way towards her. - The rival companies ought to hire you.

- I'm sorry, who are you?

- I'm Anna. Anna Tinsdale. - she extended her hand towards her but Y/N only stared at her hand. - I wanted to meet you, well, meet you while you're awake. You did tell me you'd kill me if I didn't come to see Bucky.

- Y/N. - she shook her hand slowly. - I ... I should get back inside before Sadie ...

- Is she ok? Sadie? - Anna asked, a clear look of concern across her face.

Y/N felt a tang on her stomach, before giving her a sympathetic smile. She put her hand on Anna's back and guided her far from the room. Last thing that she wanted was for Bucky, Sadie or even Dr. Tinsdale to see Anna. Instead, the two walked to the waiting room and sat on the green chairs against the wall.

- He doesn't tell me anything and just because I don't want to be her mother doesn't mean I don't worry. I mean, she came out of me for fucks sake. - she looked up. - I know you hate me.

- I don't. I don't like you but I don't hate you either.

- Me and James, we were friends and more than that for so long and I know that we'll never gonna get that but he just hates me now.

- He doesn't hate you. - Y/N sighed. - He's just upset and you didn't do things the best way. I don't think Bucky actually hates anything.

Anna looked at Y/N before giving her a smile.

- I'm glad she has you. - she held Y/N's hand, letting go before getting up. - Thank you for that. I'm glad she has you.

- It'll get better. Give it time.

- Not for me, but for you ... well, you'll see.

(...)

Sadie was a trooper. She'd come back home and was behaving as if she hadn't had surgery, mostly staying either in her room or in the living room whenever she got tired of the room. Y/N was cutting vegetables in the kitchen to make soup when the bell rang. She looked down at the RING camera screen on the kitchen seeing Chris. Fuck, she'd completely forgotten about Chris. She buzzed him in, before cleaning up her hands and opening the door. Chris stood there, wearing a long coat and a no doubt designer scarf while holding a bouquet of daisies.

- Chris, hi.

- Hey, Y/N. - he handed her the daisies. - How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while.

- Oh you know ... - Y/N walked to the kitchen to grab a vase to put the flowers in. - Sadie got back from the hospital and I've been looking after her.

- What about her father? Bucky hasn't left the company.

- Bucky has work to do while I'm waiting for my supervisors to give me the final feedback on my thesis draft. - she looked at him, not wanting to get into a discussion which loomed over them. - Besides, Bucky usually takes her from 5 PM onwards.

- So, you are free from 5PM?

- Most days yes. - she leaned against the counter - Listen I'm sorry about not speaking to you for the past days, Sadie just got back from the hospital and I don't wanna leave her alone.

- If you're free from 5PM, I could take you to dinner.

- Chris ... - she sighed.

- Doesn't have to be too far. Heck, we could go to the tapas place around the corner so you won't be too far from Sadie.

She found herself at a crossroads. She either said yes and avoided a discussion or she said no and the two would go round 4 on how Y/N spends most of her time with Sadie rather than living her own life. Right now, she preferred the first option.

- Okay.

- I'll pick you up.

(...)

Bucky came home and Sadie was wrapped in one of her quilted blankets, staring at the screen while Bluey played. How she hadn't gotten bored of it was still a surprise for him. He put his coat on the hanger and went to the couch, kissing the top of her head before starting to tickle her making her giggle.

- What are you up to, bug? - he asked, straightening the blanket. - Still making a report on Bluey?

- No.

- No? Is this for fun then? - he leaned against the couch as Sadie cuddled against his side. - How are you today, bug? Any pain?

- No.

- Good. Where is Y/N? Have you banished her?

- I'm here. - Y/N came down the stairs, holding a pair of heels in one hand and trying to put on her earrings with the other. - I'm here.

And here she was. Maybe she had decided to adopt a more formal style around the house, parading around in a black cocktail dress and an updo.

- New dress?

- No. - Y/N said, moving around to tidy up some of the rubbish that had started to accumulate in the living room. - Chris is coming to pick me up for dinner.

- God, you're still going out with him. - he got up to follow Y/N to the kitchen. - You don't even like the guy.

- Yes, I do. He brought flowers.

- That would mean he likes you, not the other way around. Just admit it, he's boring and you don't like him.

- I'll remember that once he's balls deep inside of me tonight.

- Can't go that deep. - he chuckled. - You're just being stubborn. Or you're people pleasing. Either way, you don't really like him.

- And you would know that because?

- Because you've been dodging the guy since Sadie got to the hospital. Heck, you've been even using me as an excuse not to see him.

- Is that all? I'm too tired to put up with you. - she threw her shoes to the ground to step onto them.

- Why are you forcing this? So he's bad in bed, find someone who isn't.

- He's not bad in bed.

- Y/N, I know when a woman is satisfied in bed. I pride myself in it.

- Oh yes because you are Bucky Barnes, lord of everything with tits.

- You're a scholarly woman, don't use that sort of language.

- Fine, mammary glands. - she rolled her eyes. - What makes you think that you're the only guy who's good in bed? I'll have you know that Chris is a gentleman.

- So he cries in bed.

- Why are we still discussing my sex life?

- Fine. If it's not your sex life, then what is it? He is very boring but I thought maybe the two of you could discuss Columbia or something.

- We're seeing each other, Bucky. But of course you wouldn't know about that since your idea of seeing someone is fucking their brains out.

Bucky cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up and down before walking up to her and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

- Why? Are you jealous?

- Urgh. - she pushed him away. - Sadie needs to go to bed by 7, Bucky. Not 9, or she'll be a little demon.

- I would say have fun but we both know that won't happen. Maybe you should take a book not to bother yourself too much with him.

- Maybe you should butt out of my life!

(...)

How dare he continue with this chatter? Y/N liked Chris. He was nice, he was perfectly nice. Sure, did he have anything else they conversed with other than Columbia? Usually no and his theories on modern psychology vastly diverted from hers. Yet, she was a scholar, a future member of the postdoctoral community and as such she had to accept different perceptions of theory. Moreover, who was Bucky Barnes to dish out relationship advise? The only woman she had thought had potential to be his girlfriend had been thrown aside by Bucky because, according to him, she had a weird attachment to her ex girlfriend. So, how come a man who hadn't dated a woman in probably more than 20 years had to weigh in on her relationship? Heck, he didn't even date the woman who was the mother of his child.

She looked at Chris as he continued to thrust into her. She wasn't entirely sure how long this had been going on but she did know she had checked her watch once. Was Bucky right? Was Chris boring in bed? No. No, this was just him doing what he does best, manipulating people into believing his words. Besides, what gave him the right to decide who was good or not in bed? Like, c'mon, he was attractive sure but not all attractive men are good in bed. Yet again, she had heard whispers and she had to admit he had one of those voices that dripped with lust and sin every time he used it in a whisper.

She thought about it, thought about how it would be to have him whisper dirty something in someone's ear in that accent of his. How his chapped lips would kiss down from her ear down to her neck in a prolongation of a tease, his hand skilfully toying with her clit. Now that was a man who wouldn't be a gentleman in the bedroom, he was barely one outside of it. He'd be the type to grab your hips and thrust into you without warning, moving like an animal until his everlasting stamina ran out. He'd be the type to grunt and moan against your ear.

- James. - oh fuck. Chris starred at Y/N for a while, trying to compute what she had just said. He knew what she had just said.

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

- What was that?

- What was what? - maybe playing dumb would work. After all, it worked in old romantic movies. Maybe she could say she meant Thames yet who would moan over a river in the middle of less than exciting sex.

- You moaned someone else's name.

- Did I? - she hated herself. She hated to play the fool but she wasn't about to admit she was fantasising, wait, no, not fantasising, she wasn't fantasising about anyone, she was merely theorising about what sex with Bucky Barnes would be. Theory, not practice, not truth. - Shit, I'm sorry, I don't know where my head is.

- I'll say. - Chris slipped out of her, pulling the comforter over the two of them. - You really need to quit that job. Your head hasn't been in the right place for the past month.

Thank god he hadn't connected the dots. That would be an awkward conversation.

- I'm not gonna quit my job. I like my job.

- That's not your job, Y/N. C'mon, you're gonna have a PhD in no time and then you'll actually have to go in the real world and get a real job.

- What is that supposed to mean, Christopher?

- Barnes has you playing housewife. Face it, you look after his kid, you cook, you do laundry. You're basically his wife without the sex. It's a waste of your potential.

- So you're saying being a housewife is a waste of potential?

- That's not what I meant. I'm saying you could do more than adhere to traditional stereotypes of your gender just so you can make a paycheck.

- Just so I can make a pay check? Christopher, while you may have been born with a goddamn gold spoon in your mouth, I wasn't. Do you know how expensive rent is in New York? You think I could afford even to breathe here solely on my stipend? No! That job you think is so below me is the only reason why I have a roof over my head and don't have to worry if my monthly stipend will cover my expenses or if my manager will mind me skipping a day of work to focus on my studies. Besides, I'll be damned if I'll take feminist theories from a trust fund man baby. - she got out of bed, grabbing her shoes and her dress.

- C'mon, Y/N, I'm just trying to help you. I want you to be able to do what you enjoy. You're telling me looking after a two year old is what you envision as career?

- I have career ambitions. I know where I'm going, I don't need your help.

- You don't even know if you're passing your PhD viva. - he said which made Y/N snap her head to look at him. - Maybe if you spent more time at school instead of being at Barnes even beckoning call, you'll have more certainty is what I mean.

- Fuck you, Christopher!

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x you #bucky/You #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n

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dayumbxxch · 1 month

Text

Spoiled Memories

Chapter two

The clicking of shoes on tile fills the halls of Smith's Grove. A young 22 year old with dull eyes follows behind Delores, learning what to do at her new job.

The hushed lunchroom made Y/N heart race; even though she knew none of the patients were paying her any attention she couldn't help but feel self conscious.

Y/N's eyes glaze over as she mindlessly follows the older woman. Life had become dull and meaningless ever since she'd lost her brother. So she began to let her mind drift throughout the day to happier times. It had cost her a few jobs and almost a car crash once but she left more alive in her mind.

"-ey!"

"What were you saying?"

"We have to go down the hall to deliver the food to the ones that have to stay in their rooms."

Nodding the girl follows behind her mentor, the hallway was pin-drop silent. "These patients are deemed as hazards or themselves..or to others." Delores's voice dropped near the end while glancing towards a door they had passed.

Her lunch break approached rather quickly, leaving the break room Y/N began ease dropping on a conversation while grabbing a soda.

"So how's the new girl?" "Weird she doesn't really say anything. She just stands there silent and shit."

Hearing enough Y/N turned on her heel and walked back into the break room. Throughout her years of being a recluse she learned not to care about anything really.

She was here for money to find her brother. That was all she wanted ever since he went to jail and she was moved to a different foster home.

"So have you met the boogeyman yet?"

"Um..no I don't think I have"

Y/N's new coworker began a strange story.

"So there was this boy in a town near here in haddonfield. And one day after the years of bullying and torment he snapped and killed his sister, a kid from his school, and his step dad. So he was brought here when he was just ten years old. His mom came to see him every week. Then he snapped again killing a nurse right after the doctor stepped out of the room. His mom tired of it all shot herself dead. And in the next room was her daughter the boogeyman's little sister Laurie. Now he rots away in his room and he smells terrible. He looks homeless and has really greasy hair."

The boy described rang an unforgotten bell in Y/N head. "What was his name?" The woman spun around a clipboard from beside her.

Michael Myers

Y/N's heart skipped a little her golden childhood friend had murdered a bunch of people; he's now in the Sanitarium she just started working at. "I'm Isabella by the way!" "Y/N."

"Elvis I'm home!" A beaten up looking Russian Blue cat jumped at the sound of the front door opening. "Hey honey are you hungry~" Sitting her keys down Y/N picks up her beloved pet and walks him over to the kitchen.

The move wasn't awful since she didn't have much to unpack it only took a couple of hours. Elvis had gotten used to the new house already and even started exploring outside.

Y/N's life continues as dull as normal even with her late night runs to calm her mind before bed. Everyday seemed to be a repeat of the last. It had only been a week but it felt like a month. The shifts went by slow and her home time with Elvis went by fast.

As usual Y/N begins her day staring off into nothing while sitting in bed. A loud alarm jolts her out of her dazed state, she makes her way to the bathroom.

After doing her usual eyeliner to bring some attention to her e/c eyes instead of the ever darkening circles around her eyes.

The drive to work was the usual forty-five minutes filled with hard rock playing to keep her awake.

"Hey Isabella." Her voice was barely audible but her newly found friend understood her perfectly. "Hey hon how's it going?" The blonde sets an energy drink in front of Y/N as she drinks her own. "Since you're now working the early shift you get to meet the man, the myth, and the legend, Michael Myers and his little pal Dr. Loomis."

Y/N rolls her eyes while chugging her drink quickly. Tears prick her eyes from the carbonation, blinking them away she stands up and follows her friend.

"So he's the usual creep. He stares and stands there until you leave. He likes OJ and that's about all we know about him. Don't give him anything remotely sharp he has special silverware that will bend if he tries to stab anyone with it."

Y/N bites the inner part of her lip and Isabelle picks up on her silence. "You'll be fine. The man has got to eat." She says while handing her a tray. "Him and Dr. Loomis are in there." She uses her head to motion towards two doors.

"Go" Y/N gets pushed towards the double doors and gulps while the guards let her inside. Not saying a word she sets Michael's tray on the table. Y/N's eyes flicker towards the huge man and her breath escapes her. She'd briefly met eyes with the man in the mask.

"Thank you ma'am you may go. Now Michael can you look back at the picture please?"

A heavy feeling settled in Y/N's stomach, she'd always had a knack for feeling people's stares.

"Michael?... Michael!"

"Ma'am could you please come back here for a moment?"

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #x reader #fem reader #slasher x reader #halloween

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starcrossedxwriter · 9 months

Text

Built for Love Part 11 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: a bit of angst, lots of fluff, NSFW

A/N: I don't wanna give a single thing away about this chapter so I'm just gonna say enjoy!

“What are you doing outta bed?” Michael paused scrambling eggs on the stove to throw her a glance that matched the exasperation and annoyance in his tone. “I told you I’d bring it to you.”

Charlotte’s slippers made scuffing noises across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the kitchen island.

“Thank you but you’ve sequestered me in that bed since Saturday and I didn’t fight you on it once. It’s Wednesday and if I lay there for one more second, I was gonna lose my mind. I’ve slept enough for a lifetime.” She glanced down at the kitchen island, heavy laden with breakfast. She spied breakfast potatoes, bacon, sausage, fruit, and biscuits. “Now who is all this food for??”

“You,” he responded simply. “You needed sleep and now you need calories. You’ve been losing weight since we moved here and that stops now.”

Charlotte could not deny that was true. It was unintentional but her soft curves had certainly lost much of their curviness since she moved to New York. She was not at her skinniest by any means, but the rigorous performances and practices, her regular workout routine, and the stress caused the pounds to shed without her even realizing it.

She popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth as she walked up to him. “This is very sweet and everything smells delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go sit.”

Charlotte moaned. Dr. Jordan was the strictest fake doctor she had ever met in her life. He barely gave her a chance to stand and stretch her legs.

“Babeeeee,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Her forehead rested on his back. “I can stand for a few minutes. He fucked up my upper body, my legs still work just fine.”

“You need to rest and relax, Charlotte. Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Worst patient I’ve ever seen.”

“How many girls have you nursed back to health from near death, babe? Damn, I thought I was your first for once,” she joked. However, when it fell flat, she grimaced. “Too soon?”

“Wayyyy too soon, baby. How’re you feeling?”

“Fi-” she started to say but remembered her promise. It included this. She pressed her lips to his back, his taunt and bare muscles flexing at her touch.“B-better. Nightmares weren’t so bad last night… just a couple so that’s progress… torturously slow progress,” she added. “And I made an appointment with my old therapist. We’re gonna do virtual sessions till I get back to LA.”

Michael turned from the stove, still in the grip of her arms, to face her. He gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s great, Els.” He was proud of her, he knew how hard that was… that she likely felt as if she was backtracking or starting over. “Why didn’t you wake me last night?”

“You need to sleep too, Dr. Jordan. All this taking care of and fussing over me, I know you’re not resting.”

“I’ll rest when those heal.” He lifted her chin lightly to look at the bruising on her neck. He knew they would get worse before they got better but his eyes glazed over with rage every time he looked at her bruises, particularly the ones around her neck. He could make out exactly where his hands were, a temporary brand to what he tried to do.

Charlotte rubbed his arm, an attempt to soothe the brewing emotions she could feel inside him. She always admired his emotional intelligence, how he was able to reign in his emotions and rage even when he so clearly wanted to find the nearest punching bag or Shaun’s face and have at it. “I’ve had worse. It always looks way worse than it feels. Well, that’s not true. The first day, it felt worse than it looked. But it’s not too bad now. I promise. And I’d rather you rest now. I really am ok.”

Despite her assurances, she could tell he did not believe her. She sighed, wondering when she would earn his trust again. That was honestly the hardest part in all this for her, knowing that her actions had caused her to lose it in the first place.

“How long is it gonna take for you to trust me when I say that again?” She asked quietly. She wasn’t angry, there were consequences to her actions and this was one of them. But it did break her heart. She hated the idea that he did not trust her words. This was their first real issue as a couple, the first time she had to contend with them not being on the same page.

Michael sighed, his hand going to scratch the scruff of his beard for a moment. “It’s not a question of trust, Els. Because I do trust you. And I’m not tryin’ to hold this against you. But this taught me that for better or worse, your default is to deal with your shit alone. To hide and, if needed, lie to avoid bothering or worrying other people. And I get it, I understand why. But I won’t lie and pretend like this shit didn’t shake me up a lot. Being stuck in LA knowing something wasn’t right even though you promised it was. Seeing you after the show shaken and scared and not knowing why… seeing you nearly dead on the floor when I was one room over. That ain’t shit I’m gonna get outta my head anytime soon. When you say you’re good, I wanna know that’s true. But I also know it’s gonna take a lot more than a promise and a few days for that to happen. You gotta work on trusting me with your problems and your pain and that shit takes time. And in the meantime, I’m gonna work on taking you at your word but I might also just need… some reassurances that you’re really ok.”

She understood why Michael was being so protective. She could tell he still felt guilty, though he shouldn’t, about not being there to protect her in the first place. And now, he acted as if she needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap at all times. He barely let her out of his sight and if it was not an absolute necessity, he barely let her out of bed. She understood the impulse. If it made him feel better to fuss, she would not deny herself or him that.

“I understand. I didn’t think about how all of that would affect you… scare you. And I am sorry. Whatever reassurances you need and fussing you wanna do for as long as you wanna do it, I won’t fight you on it. Promise.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her nose, her face scrunching up a bit. “How’s the pain?”

“Manageable. Head is still pounding, everything’s a bit stiff but I feel like I can get up and move around a bit. Or at least move from the bed to the couch for a change of scenery. Maybe convince the best and sexiest doctor in New York to take me on a walk after breakfast so I can breathe some fresh air?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You sure you're up for that?”

“Probably not up for a long one,” she admitted. “But even if it’s just 10 minutes… the cameras and reporters have finally moved on to bothering someone else. We could escape for a bit. I’m going a little stir crazy, Bakari.”

“Fine. Just for a bit then Avengers on the couch?”

“Thank youuuu.”

She ate quickly, finishing two plates at Michael’s insistence.

As they went into their bedroom to change, she raised an eyebrow in shock as Michael handed her one of his favorite sweaters. She had stolen quite a lot of his clothes in the last few months, in which they basically became her clothes and he never saw them again. However, this coveted sweater had always been out of her grasp. He had always made it clear it was one of the few items that were off limits because he knew he’d never get it back. However, she had tried it on one or twice when he wasn’t home and it was like wearing a cloud, so insanely soft.

“Wow… so this whole time all I needed to do was almost die to get this?? Chile, I would’ve done that months ago to get this sweater,” she joked. Though she could see the corner of his mouth twitch, he did not laugh. “Still too soon?”

“If it was too soon 20 minutes ago, it still is, Els.”

“Sorry, Jackson wasn’t a fan of my dark humor about dying the first time either. But it helps to find some humor in it… somewhere. And you gotta admit, it is kinda funny…” She remarked as she pulled on a pair of leggings. They still had to bundle up, one thing Charlotte did miss about LA was the perfect weather year around.

“Ain’t a single humorous thing about any of this, babe.”

“I dunno… I mean no, it isn’t funny. But also, it’s kinda crazy… Since I met him, Shaun’s gone out his way to try to kill me twice… and each time, I’ve survived. Like he is really bad at murder… terrible. I mean, not complaining… Thank God for it. But I would just stop trying if I was 0/2 with the same person, you know? That’s embarrassing??” That did make a small chuckle escape Michael’s lips. “See!! It is kinda funny when you actually think about it.”

“I’m ignoring you,” he called as he went into the closet to pull out their winter coats, baseball caps, and shades. Thankfully, the press and paparazzi surrounding their building had started to dissipate. They had gotten a couple glimpses of her family and Michael coming and going but none of her, thankfully. That was the only thing that would have made this whole ordeal worse, her bruised and battered form thrown across the front page of every newspaper. She knew it was still a possibility, pictures of her injuries from the hospital could leak. The downside of fame, nothing was truly private.

She shrugged as he helped her pull on her coat.

“I’m just saying he’s bad at killing or I am just that good at surviving,” she muttered. “Maybe they should cast me in Black Panther too?” At his confused stare, she smiled. “Cause I clearly have 9 lives like a cat? I could be like your sexy evil accomplice… The Golden Cheetah?”

That did make him laugh for the first time in several days. His hands grabbed her jacket to pull her close to him. “I’ll talk to Ryan about it, how about that?”

“That’s all I ask.” She stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him before he took her hand to lead them outside.

Their walk did not last too long as Michael knew it would not. Not because Charlotte was not up for it but because neither of them wanted to be out in the cold long. But she still appreciated his willingness to acquiesce to her small request. A walk was really the only public thing she cared to do, at least, until all the bruises faded. And she did appreciate the activity, she wanted to keep her limbs from going too stiff. She’d be back on stage next week, the one thing she did have to fight Michael on. Chris was on the verge of an ulcer every day she was out. He called to check on her everyday. She knew he actually cared about her but she also knew he wanted his leading lady back… ASAP. She already felt guilty ruining his opening night, the least she could do is not send him to the hospital from the stress.

But Michael did not push back too much once she promised to have security with her, given that Shaun was officially out on bail. Restraining order or not, she and Michael were not interested in testing whether Shaun would adhere to it. She let Michael pick and vet the guy, who came highly recommended.cHis accolades included knowing more than an acceptable amount of ways to kill someone with his bare hands so she could not deny she would feel more safe in his presence. And the theater security and box office had been alerted and prepped to ensure her ex did not step foot on the premises again. And he no longer, thankfully, even had a legitimate reason to, Chris letting her know he had been fired from his investment firm immediately after the news broke.

Charlotte knew she would not know real peace or be able to fully move on until he was behind bars, which the DA warned could take a year given the docket unless he accepted a plea. But she would accept the small wins and forms of justice that she could get, she knew it was far more than many in her position would ever see.

As she pulled her outer layers and hat off, she got a glimpse of her hair in the mirror.

“Ugh.”

“What?”

“My hair… How can you stand to look at me like this? I look like a troll doll. I’m gonna have to go to the salon or pay someone to come and wash it. I look crusty as hell.”

“How about we relax in the bath and I’ll wash it for you?”

Her face lit up. She remembered when they talked about a similar scene in Creed, the intimacy of helping Bianca do her hair. Her heart swelled at the idea of recreating such a moment. The role of victim and caregiver over the last few days had stripped a layer of emotional intimacy the pair was accustomed to. She knew it would come back eventually but she hoped, perhaps, this small act would speed things up a bit.

“Really?”

He gestured toward the bedroom, taking her hand to get ready for the tub.

Soon, she found herself resting against Michael’s chest in the bath, bubbles surrounding both of them. He did all the work, his fingertips softly massaging shampoo and conditioner in her tresses, Charlotte could’ve fallen to sleep right there.

“Can I ask you something?” Her soft voice breaking the silence between them as Michael worked diligently and carefully to avoid causing her pain. It had been on her mind since they got home, stationed at the forefront for the hours and hours she spent resting or recovering in his arms. Several days removed, the shock had worn off for both of them, she felt like enough time had passed to finally talk about things unrelated to what happened or her safety. They could talk about the future, one she prayed to God she did not completely destroy.

“Shoot.” He took note of the nervousness in her voice. He did not know what she could be about to ask him, what could cause her to be nervous. He was an open book.

“At the hospital… you said you wanted to marry me…” her voice grew quiet, one of her legs drawing into her chest. “Did you mean that? Do you still mean that? Or was it just, you know, you caught up in the emotion of everything?”

His massaging stilled for a moment before he answered, “Yes, yes, and no.” Simple and to the point as he resumed his task.

He could feel her body relax against him again at his answers.

“You don’t wanna elaborate on any of those answers?”

He laughed. “Nah cause it’s pretty cut and dry to me. I’m pretty set on spending the rest of my life with you.”

And that was not him just trying to assure her, it was the truth. He knew in his soul Charlotte was the end game for him well before they went on their first date. He had just been waiting for her to catch on. And once she did, every step he had taken since, including this move to New York, was with the intention of spending every day of the rest of his life with her.

“Even after all this? After I lied to you?”

Michael knew she still felt guilty. Between the two of them, there was much guilt to go around in their household over the last 72 hours. Some of it was fair and some of it was not. But just as he was trying to work through his own guilt, he did not want Charlotte to continue to hold onto hers when he had forgiven her.

“Els, I meant it when I said I forgive you. And when I say somethin’, I mean that shit. Stop beating yourself up over it. I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into the studio for our screen test. And I’ve just fell more and more in love with you with every passing day. All of this changed nothing for me, except reminding me that whatever time we have together, I don’t wanna waste it.”

Her hands played in the tall bubbles of the bath as she contemplated his words.

“That been on your mind since I said it?”

“Yea,” she admitted. “You know, all my time in bed gave me lots of time to ruminate,” she chuckled lightly. “It’s just… I mean we just have never talked about marriage a-and the long-term stuff. I mean and I get it, we haven’t even been together a year. But w-when you said that, it made me really happy because I feel the same about you. B-But then I just… you know, obsessed over it for the last three days wondering if all this changed your mind or made you question whether I’m the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with.”

“Nah, I would’ve married you after our first date if I could’ve.”

Charlotte chuckled and shook her head, small droplets of water spraying everywhere. “We would’ve been skipping about 10 steps there. I want a proposal,” she laughed. “Knowing you, it’ll be something sentimental that makes me break down in tears.”

Thank God she could not see the giant smirk that fell on his face.

“And a big wedding, I assume?”

Charlotte tilted her head as if to contemplate. She knew he expected the answer to be yes, after all most girls dream of a grand wedding. But that had never been her. “Honestly? I was never the girl to dream about the big princess wedding… just the prince,” she teased.

Michael ran a comb through a section of hair, working to detangle it. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, knowing her head still hurt, which meant the whole endeavor took longer than it should have.

“Am I living up to the childhood fantasy?” He asked.

“My wildest dreams couldn’t have conjured you up.”

“I aim to please.” He kissed her shoulder.

“I don’t even really care about planning it. I had to endure J and Lauren’s wedding planning and whew… miserableeee. And they couldn’t even enjoy the day that much. I dunno, I don’t want to be more worried about whether some elaborate affair is going according to plan instead of actually enjoying my wedding day? I wanna be celebrating our love and the first day of our life together. I mean yea, I want a wedding of some sort but it could have 25 people in your backyard. As long as I’m in a drop dead gorgeous dress and you’re waiting on me at the end of the aisle, I honestly don’t need or care about anything else. I’d be fine with a big one if you want one but someone else’s gotta plan it.”

“I’ve never put much thought into my wedding so you won’t get much argument outta me. I would push back on the backyard thing though. Maybe a small destination wedding or a small venue in LA, something like that.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Speaking of destinations,” he mentioned, shifting gears of the conversation. If they went too much farther down this road, Michael would find a wedding planner to plan a small intimate ceremony for next week. “I think we’ll both finally have some time off in September when you finish here. Let me take you on a trip.”

“Oooo you tryin’ to fly ya girl out?” Michael rolled his eyes at her antics. “Where would you want to go?”

Michael immediately shook his head. His sweet girl was the opposite of decisive. She would let Michael make every decision if she could. And this time, he wanted to go where she wanted to go.

“Nahhh ma, it isn’t to celebrate me. It’s for you. Where do you want to go?”

“It should also be to celebrate us both… a bit delayed sure but we never really did anything to celebrate Creed. That’s your first big leading man blockbuster.” She flipped the script on him.

“Fine, it can be to celebrate us both but you still need to pick.”

“I really hate you,” she laughed. “Well, at least, help me narrow it down. What kind of vacation vibe would you want?”

“Preferably somewhere relaxing where I can have you naked or only in a bikini for most of the trip.”

She could not hide the sly grin on her face at his words, the heat that rose throughout her entire body. She forced the feeling to dampen. They had not had sex yet and given how the other night went, she imagined Michael would pump the brakes again. She understood, but she did not want to deal with the rejection again.

“The Caribbean is an option but September is dead in the middle of hurricane season, so we’d have to be ok with it being canceled potentially.” Michael smiled, he was never one to consider weather patterns before traveling. He barely checked the weather before he stepped outside each day. But of course, Charlotte would think about that. “We could do something like a spot along the Mediterranean? Or something like that. I’ve been wanting to go back to the Amalfi Coast but maybe we should go somewhere we both haven’t been?”

He learned something new about his girl every day. “When did you go there?”

“My first birthday after Shaun… My family surprised me with a vacation there. I had spent most of that whole first year miserable and in bed. The first six months were the hardest. But by the time my birthday came around, I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel but still wasn’t there. I was in therapy and still struggling to find me in all of it? And I was just really depressed so the trip was supposed to cheer me up a bit. Lauren, Jazz, one of our other friends, Chelsea, and I all went. And we had a ball,” Michael could feel her entire body light up as she spoke, as if the mere memories of that trip were fuel and power.

“We just ate and drank and ate some more and swam and went on boat rides and just… lived. God, it was the first time I felt uninhibited happiness and relaxation in years. It was kinda my Eat, Pray, Love moment as corny as that is,” she admitted. “One morning, I got up super early and went down to the beach by myself while we were in this town, Ravello. I had this necklace he gave me for my last birthday. Hideous, gaudy silver thing I’d never pick or wear myself. But I couldn’t let it go and clung to that stupid thing since the break up. Anyway, I watched the sun rise and I realized that I’d never be me again. The me before him was dead and gone. But I also realized that maybe that wasn’t a bad thing? Cause the me before him needed that necklace as proof that someone loved me, no matter how hideous and awful that love was. The me before him and during him needed any type of love, no matter the cost of it. And that part of me needed to die. So, instead of trying to resurrect the old me, I decided I would reconnect with the things that made me happy and forge something new. And then I ran into the water and tossed that terrible necklace into the sea. And then I regretted polluting the sea with something that was definitely not biodegradable,” Michael’s deep baritone filled her ears with laughter. “So long way of saying, it just represents new beginnings to me in some way. So even if we don’t go this time around, I’d want to go back with you at some point. But I’d honestly be fine with anywhere as long as I’m with you. So why don’t you just surprise me?”

“Fine. Don’t think I don’t realize you’re using my love of surprises against me.”

She turned and winked at him before he helped her stand and get in the shower to effectively rinse out all of the products. Their afternoon of hair styling continued as she sat between his legs on the couch, Avengers playing on the tv as he moisturized and styled her hair. She savored the help, she hated dealing with her mane of hair. And the intimacy it had created was exactly as she had hoped. And he did an excellent job. Though she could tell his arms were exhausted by the time he finished tying her scarf around her clean and moisturized curls and coils into a pineapple on the top of her head.

“You could’ve been a hairstylist in another life.”

“You didn’t tell me it was such a work out. Boxing didn’t hurt my arms this much,” he laughed.

“Well when you’re prepping for Creed 2 and wanna help me with my hair for extra arm training, let me know. I quite enjoyed not dealing with it for once.”

Her injuries made it difficult to cuddle on the couch as they wanted so Charlotte laid with her head on his lap, his hand resting on her arm as they watched the movie.

“Can I ask you something?” This time it was Michael’s turn, a question that had been on his mind for longer than a few days. He did not know if now was the right time or if there’d ever be a right time. And he did not expect an answer but he wanted her to know he would listen if she was ready to ever share it.

“Of course.”

“And you don’t gotta answer if you don’t want to. But you never told me… what made you finally decide to leave? Was it whatever you dreamed about that night you got sick?”

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut. It was always a delicate balance. What of Shaun’s brutality to share and what not to. But she knew this was one of those things, the things she needed to learn to trust Michael specifically with. He was home and home was where you could bare it all… your whole soul. He asked and she would answer, no more hiding.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you about him. I mean a lot of it was the same old same. But somethings, I said I’d never tell anyone, Jackson, Lauren… even you. A-and that nightmare, it was bad, don’t get me wrong. Definitely made the ‘the CIA couldn’t get this out of me,’ shortlist. But the breaking point was, he saw me talking to a reporter after a show one night and thought I was cheating, God he accused me of cheating like twice a week, which just made me so upset. We argued all the way home. He asked me if I wanted to leave him a-and in my frustration and anger, I told him he wasn’t giving me many reasons to stay. Looking back, it was a real stupid thing to say, like pouring gasoline on a fire. But I w-was just so tired, tired of feeling like I was killing myself every day to be perfect and love him and getting so much pain thrown back at me. When we got home, he beat me. T-that wasn’t the bad part, that was par for the course. But then… he dragged me out onto our 11th story balcony. He picked me up and threatened to throw me off until I swore I’d never leave.”

She watched as his entire body stiffened, his fists clenching with anger. She wanted to offer him some assurance, something to ease the feelings that brewed but there was not really anything that could be said. That story and her life just were what they were, upsetting and enraging and all.

“He played God with my life for a few minutes, though it felt like an eternity, my body balancing on the railing like a rag doll with only him holding me there. There was one point, I tipped so far back, I actually thought he had let go and I s-saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I always thought people were being dramatic when they said that. But it’s true. Like a movie in fast forward and all I saw was every mistake that led me to that moment. When he was satisfied that I had begged for my life enough, he let me down and drug me back inside to finish the night. He knew I didn’t have much fight left in me after that,” she whispered, her hand wiping a tear. “Ugh,” she could not contain the groan of frustration at her own emotions. She hated that he still had this effect on her. “I don’t know why I’m crying over this o-old shit,” she shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve it. A-anyway, I decided that the next day that I had to leave or I’d d-die. I made a p-plan and left a week later.”

“I’m sorry, honeybee.” There were no other words he could offer, though those sounded inadequate in the space. With every story she told him, he felt like a layer of the complex onion that was her peeled back. “I should’ve killed him,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. And it was true. The fact that he still drew breath was enraging, another thing he felt guilty for. For not ending the monster that haunted her.

Charlotte reached over and grabbed his hand, their fingers interlocking. “Your soul is too good to be tainted by him. Besides, you did quite a number on him from what I heard. I didn’t know you had hands like that in real life, baby Creed,” she teased, thankful her joke caused a small smile to grace his features. “God, I wish I could’ve seen it… Saying that makes me feel like a terrible person,” her head fell into her hand, propped up against the back of the couch. “But j-just to see him, for once, feel a fraction of what I felt. Feels like a bit of justice for it all.”

“That doesn’t make you a terrible person. You’re far from a terrible person. If he dropped dead tomorrow, you would be justified if you threw a damn party. Hell, I would throw a party and I only met him once. You’re allowed to want justice for all of it.”

“Thanks.” She shifted, bringing her feet under her. “You know what’s crazy about it? I always regretted him… Regretted meeting him, agreeing to that first date, staying through all of that. B-but the last couple days, I’ve been thinking about my life right now… the last few months are the first time that I’ve felt like I was at home, like I know who I am and my soul is at peace. It’s pretty damn good. A little damaged around the edges, sure, but still so amazing that… If I had to go back and do it all again, I know in my soul I-I’d walk that same jagged path through all the pain, a-and landmines, and everything else if it was what I needed to do to end up here again, if it meant I would find home again.”

“And where’s home?” his voice was quiet as if he was worried the answer would not be what he expected, as if he were afraid to hear it.

Charlotte tilted her head to study him, her hand going to cup his cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling her palm.

“You.”

Waves of guilt crashed over him, causing a tear to fall. The first one he had shed since the hospital. Charlotte whisked it away with her thumb.

“Not feelin’ like I deserve that right now. You were in trouble and I didn’t even see it till it was too late. I never should’ve left you here. I couldn’t even keep you safe. What kinda fuckin’ home is that?”

The guilt in his voice broke her heart. She moved, slowly and stiffly, but moved to slide into his lap. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she looked at him.

“Look at me.” It was her turn to demand as he so often did, demand that he overcome the guilt and shame that forced his eyes away from hers. She knew it was difficult, had struggled to find his eyes too many times for fear she would see confirmation of her guilt, her shame, her unworthiness. But it was never there and he would not find that in her eyes today either.

“Every single time I’ve ever needed you, you were right on time. This was no exception. The truth is, you’ve been keeping me safe since the day I met you. I was so lost before I met you. I-I had healed my heart a-and my mind and my body as best I could. But my soul, I had vowed never to let someone so close to it again, had boarded it up with walls so high it would be impossible to let someone in again. To let someone see me again. And that was fuckin’ lonely,” she admitted. “A-and exhausting to force myself to keep my guards up like that, to deny everything I’d always wanted… a partner who saw me in my entirety and loved me for all of it. But I did it b-because it w-was better than the alternative. A-And then I met you. And you instantly knew the me I hid from everyone, you knew my soul and what it needed to finally mend. And you slowly but surely broke down every wall and barrier I had fought so hard to keep up so you could ensure I got what I needed, a safe place to land. And every day since, you’ve seen my soul in its entirety, all its light and darkness, its hopes and fears, its permanently damaged pieces and those that’ve healed. And you’ve loved me beyond my wildest dreams for it all. You are my peace and my solace and my safety every moment… that is the best home I could’ve ever hoped for.”

She wiped her tears that fell before offering. “He w-wanted me to deny t-that. Before he…” she lifted her own eyes to the ceiling as she re-lived that moment. “Told me it was him or no one, wanted me to tell him I would c-choose him. And I couldn’t. It’s insane,” she acknowledged. “And I knew you’d p-probably tell me just to lie to save myself. But I couldn’t deny what I’ve known to be true since we kissed in your apartment in Philly. You are it for me. You are my choice every day, every time, no matter.”

His lips crashed against hers, his arms wrapping around her tightly to pull her into his chest. Michael knew the depths of Charlotte’s love for him without a doubt. And he loved receiving a tear-inducing speech about it as much as he enjoyed doling them out on her. However, to know that, even in what could’ve been her last moments, she chose to love him loudly and unapologetically, hit his soul harder than he had ever experienced before.

No more words passed between them, each touch was a silent declaration of love between them that they did not have the words to capture. The day had laid them both bare in a way they had never experienced before or expected. And it was not their trauma guiding them, it was pure love. A desire and need to connect mind, body, and soul.

“You want… need me to stop?” He whispered as she sucked on the soft skin of his neck. In his heart, he knew the answer before the words left his mouth. He could tell in her movements that stopping would be near impossible this time. But he had to check, had to double check before they went down this road.

She immediately shook her head. Charlotte’s brain was mush, a complete fog of desire, need, and pleasure as she kissed every inch of exposed skin she could find. She had never yearned for a person as much as she yearned for the man beneath her. She wanted everything, all of him. She knew now, in hindsight, that the first night, she had wanted him for all the wrong reasons. And she was grateful that he, once again, saved her from herself. But now, in this moment, she wanted to feel him, feel his gentle touch and caress, and savor every moment of his love for her. And she wanted him to feel her, not her brokenness and fear, but the life pumping through her veins, the love she held for him, that he was her choice.

“No,” she whispered back, he was thankful to hear that word leave her lips. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Not this time.”

“Good.”

Michael immediately wrapped his hands behind her thighs and hoisted her up to carry her into their bedroom. She let him guide her to their bed, laying her down gently as he removed both of their clothes. Charlotte instinctively wanted to shrink up and cover herself, hyper aware of the bruises that littered her form.

Sensing her thoughts, Michael immediately leaned over her and started to press his lips to each one, gentle and lingering kisses on every cut, scrap, and bruise that sent jolts of electricity through her form. A silent but touching reminder that she survived and told her he did not care how they looked. He worked his way down her body slowly but this time it was not the usual teasing he liked to do. He simply wanted to savor every second of it.

He handled her with such care, as if she were perfectly sculpted glass that would shatter if he pushed too hard, too fast. She was not fragile, he knew that. She was strong and powerful. But her wounds were fresh. Fresh enough that he used every moment to assure her that his touch was different, would never hurt her as he had, and would never treat her body and soul with such pain and callousness. It had taken great restraint not to taste her or bury himself inside her the last few days, to be as close to her as he could, feel the life pumping in her veins. But she needed time and so did he, to reckon with what they both almost lost.

He could feel the frenzy beneath him as he worked, her body writhing with silent pleas that begged for more. But he did not want to rush. He remembered their first time, slow and measured as he took her apart piece by piece. He understood the impulse to rush but they had time, he kept reminding himself. Time with each other.

He returned to her lips, a quiet directive to slow down landing on her ears.

“Slow down, baby,” he muttered, “Slow down.” Their foreheads rested against each other as he forced her to take a breath.

“I need…” her words trailed off as she whimpered, her fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his t-shirt as if he’d turn to dust before her eyes if she let go of him. Her eyes searched his for understanding, that he knew exactly what she so desperately needed.

“I know, I know.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her head leaning into it to find his lips again. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” Their eyes connected, brimming with tears as she took in his undying love for her. “We’re both here, safe and sound, and no one’s going anywhere. I promise. Let me take care of you.”

At her nods, he resumed his touching until he found himself at the treasure trove between her thighs, her flower dripping and begging to be touched by the man she loved. And that was all he needed as he spread her legs and wrapped his lips around her bud.

Charlotte’s back immediately arched off the bed as he feasted on her. It had only been days but she had missed the feeling of his tongue on her and inside her. He spelled out his love for her in gentle caresses that made her head spin.

She melted against his mouth like chocolate, her cries of pleasure crescendoing with every movement of his skilled tongue.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you.” He slid two fingers inside of her, increasing the sensations that already threatened to overwhelm her.

Charlotte felt as if her body was in overdrive. Her hips rocked to meet every thrust of his hand, her thighs clamped around his head as he feasted on her. It did not matter how many times his mouth found its way to her core, he managed to reduce her to a mewling puddle begging for more, every time.

And usually, she let him stay between her thighs as long as he wanted, pulling out as many climaxes as he could. But this time, she needed more. She knew he wanted to take his time, take her apart and put her back together. But she could not wait. Her soul could not wait. She needed to feel him inside her. So much had been taken from her, so much had left her feeling empty in this life until Michael. Michael filled her up where her past and present trauma only drained her. And right now, she wanted to be filled. The emptiness ached and she wanted to be filled to the brim and overflow.

She pulled him from between her thighs, bringing his lips to hers. She relished in the taste of herself but only for a moment before she whispered.

“I need you. Inside me. I c-can’t… can’t wait,” she panted. “W-we have all night b-but I need to feel you now.”

He acquiesced, the vulnerability in her voice more than enough to forgo his original plan.

He kept her eyes on his as he thrust inside of her slowly. Charlotte moaned at the delicious stretch he always provided. Months, it had been months since she first felt that stretch and it still caused a gasp to escape her lips, her eyes to see stars, and every thought in her head to shatter.

“J-Just like that,” she whimpered, all her senses squarely focused on him and the pleasure he graciously provided. All she could feel was the sparks of bliss at the end of every stroke and the trail of fire that marked where his hands roamed as he explored her body. All she could hear were the symphony of their moans, his deep grunts as he fucked her and her screams of pleasure. All she could see were his brown eyes, a look in them that made her own eyes mist with tears. She did not know why she was crying, whether it be from the intense pleasure or the look in his eye, a look that no man before him had ever given her, a look she would have never deemed herself worthy of. The look of pure love and adoration.

Michael’s hips drove into her over, a primal growl escaping him as her muscles clenched around him repeatedly as he curved into her g-spot, their bodies made for each other. His eyes never left hers with every push forward and retreat.

As he pulled out every trick he could think of to please her, pour his love into her, Michael could not help but think about how he almost lost this. How he almost lost her. He had plans for this insanely beautiful woman beneath… plans to grow old with her, to celebrate every milestone and moment of his life and hers together, to build a life and family with her. And all of it could’ve been gone. He had never experienced this before, a year ago he could not even convince Charlotte to go out on a date with him but now? He could not fathom his life without her. And that brief moment where he had to consider such a life… it had shattered him in ways he never knew a person could be shattered.

“I love you,” his voice shook as tears sprang to his eyes. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I l-love… you,” she moaned back, her words choppy and broken between her pants and moans.

His mind drifted to the ring that he kept stashed in his bedside table, hidden in a box he knew Charlotte would never bother to open or examine closely. A ring he had started to design the day after that gala, the night she told him about her ex and decided to overcome her fears to choose him.

He knew she did not believe him when he said he had known he wanted to marry her since then. It sounded far-fetched, he recognized, to know that so early. Afterall, his friends called him foolish for designing and buying a ring for a woman who rejected him mere months prior. “Take your time,” they had all cautioned. “Make sure she is what you want.” But Charlotte was the one thing, the only thing, in this universe that he did not need time to consider, that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted. And he used this moment, every second spent in her sanctuary to show her how deeply his love for her ran, past his mind, past his heart. He loved her with every fiber of his soul.

“You know how beautiful you are?” He asked as he draped her legs over his shoulder and leaned over to rest his forehead against hers. Charlotte gasped at the angle, he had not changed his pace one bit but this position allowed him to reach the depths of her pleasure center. Those tears she had kept in now spilled over as his words filled her heart and he filled her body with every stroke. That ache of emptiness? Gone. She was overflowing. “Do you know how much… I love you?”

She cried out, unable to form real words or thoughts beyond obscenities and his name, which flowed without thought from her lips.

“I’ll spend every day of my life loving you, keeping you safe. There’s nothing in this world I won’t do for you, Els. Nothing. ” His word was punctuated by a particularly deep thrust that turned Charlotte into a babbling mess as she came. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

“More. Harder. Everything you have, please,” her voice was strained, trying to speak while her body calmed down again. She understood his gentleness, appreciated it. But now, she wanted to feel him in the depths of her bones. She was his and she wanted to feel that in every ounce of her being.

Michael helped her flip over onto her stomach, this time instructing her to hold onto the headboard so she did not have to lay on the bed. He allowed her a moment to situate herself in the position he so enjoyed. He still practiced some restraint, refusing to unleash his usual power onto her still healing body. But he loosened the reins just enough to give her what she wanted and needed.

There was nothing slow about how he rammed into her, her body thrusting forward with every delicious slam of his hips into hers. She was thankful he thought of the headboard, giving her the leverage laying face down on the bed would not have and protecting her bruises.

“Yes! Y-Yes! T-thank you,” she moaned out as he fucked her with abandon. She surrendered to the pleasure, her screams bouncing off the walls as he made her cum again and again and again.

He took her in any and every position that would not cause her pain. He buried his face between her legs and feasted off of her before plunging into her again, Charlotte allowing her body to be at his mercy. They had all night and all the time in the world and she wanted him to use every moment of it.

***

When Charlotte stirred again, she glanced over to find Michael sound asleep next to her. It was still dark outside, the clock reading 4:30 am. She laid there for a few moments, letting the soft sounds of Michael’s soft snores fill her ears. She turned and watched him for a few moments, the steady rise and fall of his chest. As she listened to him, the final part of a song she had been writing swelled in her heart. And when the pen called her, she did not dare ignore it. As quietly as she could, she climbed out of their bed and wrapped herself in her robe.

She tiptoed out of their room and into the living room, grabbing her pen and notebook before retreating to the balcony of their apartment. She had rarely been out here, her own fear of them and the frigid New York winters keeping her from enjoying this one feature of their home. But tonight, not even her past or the cold chill could send her back inside. She curled up in a blanket in one of the chairs as she listened to the bustling sounds of the city fill her ears.

It did not matter what time of day it was, New York City was always awake, always moving, always alive. Her lungs breathed in as much of the frigid air as they could before she breathed it back out. She knew she could not stay out there too long, it was freezing. But she also knew this was the only spot her singing would not wake up her sleeping boyfriend.

Baby, the sound of you

Better than a harmony

I want you off my mind

And on me

Holding me closer than we've ever been before

This ain't a dream

You're here with me

Boy, it don't get no better than you

For you, I wanna take my time

All night

She closed her eyes, curled in a small ball, as her siren song filled the night sky though she knew no one but her and God would ever hear it. But that was fine, she preferred it. This was just for her, just for her to commemorate the love she found and was grateful to God for.

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

Give you all, give you all of me

Her eyes only opened at the faint creaks of a door, surprised to find Michael standing in the doorway of the balcony as she finished the last line. However, as she started to stand and finish singing, he shook his head.

“Don’t stop. I wanna hear you.”

And so she continued, this time, her eyes on his as she finished her song, the second verse she had been struggling with flowing from her lips as if it had lived in her heart all along.

When you need it

'Cause I need it

I wanna fall like your favorite season

I'll never get up

Stay here forever, babe

It don't get no better than this

Your kiss

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

When she was finished, she sat up in the chair and glanced at him.

“I’m sorry, thought going out here wouldn’t wake you.”

He shook his head. “Bed’s cold without you, went looking for you and heard your voice. Wanted to hear you.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you heard it… it was about you anyway,” she winked. “Back to bed?”

“Umm… before we g-go,” he stammered slightly, Charlotte surprised to find a nervous energy suddenly surrounding him. He was usually so confident and assured, nervous was a rare emotion on him. “I have something for you.” He meandered to the balcony railing, standing directly in front of her before he pulled out the arm that he had bent behind his back, a small black velvet box in his hand.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she offered with a small smile. If he had not been so nervous, he would have laughed at how she missed the obvious. The size of the box really only lent itself to one thing and she had not picked up on it yet. “Though I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

He slid the box into her hand, Charlotte expecting to find a necklace or pair of earrings or something small nestled in the luxury box. However, all the wind seemed to knock out of her as she opened to find a sparkling and mesmerizing engagement ring, a giant pear shaped diamond set in the center with elegant but subtle diamonds nestled in the rose gold band around it. It was simple and yet, the most gorgeous ring she had ever seen in her life.

She glanced up from the box to find Michael in front of her on one knee. Every question that rose to her lips immediately vanished, caught in her throat as shock swept all of her senses. Her heart was beating so hard, she wondered if it was possible for it to beat straight out of her chest.

“A-are you serious? I-If this is j-just a dream…” she whispered, her eyes moving to the sky as if she was talking to God.

“N-No, this is real. Charlotte, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Every day, you love me with your whole being. You support my dreams, however far fetched and foolish they may seem, you push me to be the best man I can be. Not just for you and my family but for myself. With you, I’ve always been right at home. Falling in love with you is both the greatest decision of my life and the easiest one I’ve ever made. And every day, I thank God for bringing you and your beauty, your laugh, your spirit into my life. I don’t know what the future looks like, I don’t know how much time we have with each other. But I know that I want to spend every moment of my life loving you and being loved by you. So, this is me being sentimental and making you break down in tears,” he joked to their earlier conversations. “Charlotte Elsbeth Bennet, will you marry me?”

Charlotte’s breathing was choppy as she took in his words. Tears flowed earnestly as she tried to form a sentence.

“M-Michael… God I love you so much. B-But are you s-sure about this? I k-know with everything that’s happened… W-we haven’t even been together for a year. Are you s-sure I’m what you want?”

“I’ve had this ring for months… I started designing it the day after the gala last summer. I was waiting for the perfect moment, wanting to plan the perfect proposal for you back in LA. But what happened reminded me that I don’t want to waste our time planning perfect or ideal moments. I just want to live in all those moments with you, by my side. All day, something kept pulling me to this ring, telling me that this was our moment. And I think it’s because our best moments, the realest ones for us, are just us… being us, comfortable and safe with each other. No planning, no overthinking, no obsessing. Just being home with each other. So here I am, unsure about so much, the future and where this life will take me and us. But this moment,” his hand rubbed her knee, her face covered by both her hands as she quietly cried. “This decision is the surest I’ve ever been in my life. I am sure about you. I’ve never been so certain that you were the woman for me. Marry me.”

Charlotte immediately launched herself from her seat and into his arms, the small box still wrapped tightly in her hand as she held him.

“I love you so much,” she whispered before kissing him, her body resting on his bent knee.

“I love you too…” he paused, realizing he never actually heard the magic word. “So is that a yes… or?”

She let out a watery laugh. “A million times, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” The box fell in her lap as she cupped his face in her hands. “ Now you’re really stuck with me, Mr. Jordan.” she teased as her hands wiped the tears that flowed earnestly from her eyes.

He took the box from her and slid the ring on her finger, his heart swelling at how she admired the piece. She was not much of a jewelry wearer so he went for a ring that was simple, one she would not mind wearing every day, but was worthy of her hand.

He wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Good, that’s what I was hoping for. Mrs. Jordan has a nice ring to it.” He pressed his lips to her ring finger. His deep baritone filled the cold air as he let out an excited yell, standing and spinning Charlotte around. “Wanna go to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“Slow downnnnn. Another surprise this week might actually kill me,” she laughed. “Anndddd I wanna be my usual flawless self for our wedding photos,” she gestured toward her bruised face.

“You’re always flawless to me.”

“Alright I already said yes, don’t lay it on so thick,” she offered in jest, causing him to pepper her face with kisses.

“Well how about I take you back to bed and warm you up and I can make you say yes a couple more times?”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “I think I’d rather you make me scream it.”

“Oh that was always the plan.”

And before she knew it, Michael had her on her back, their hands interlaced on the pillow as he made her scream that beautiful word over and over again until the sun came up.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @injerafiend

A/N: Our babiesssssss!! I went back and forth on the proposal scene for a while lol and this just felt right so I hope you all enjoyed it! Every Kind of Way by HER is one of my favorite songs. This is not the end of our story buttttt we are getting close. Just three or four more chapters to go.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #adonis creed #creed iii #mbj fanfic #mbjedit #michael b jordan smut

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oh-its-souichi · 7 months

Text

Marry Part 3

Sakuna x Reader

This is not edited warnings- the usual, death, emotional manipulation

...

It had been days since he had last seen you, he had barracaded himself away, thinking.

He sat in his tea room now, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't know what was coming over him, what was scratching its way through his chest. Hie eyes bore into the wall, and he gritted his teeth. Why did he stand up for you, and why did he insist you come and see him after you were clean.

You were just another stupid sacrifice, and he cursed the elders who chose to send you. Maybe he would be better off to kill you, snap your neck like the other women, and leave you to bleed.

He didn't like the thought of that, though. He imagined the feeling of your neck bones breaking under his grasp, and it made him nauseous. He signed adjusting his posture and dropping his head into his hands. "Fucking bitch" he mumbled. There had to be something he could do.

He cast his eyes out the window towards the thick green forested mountains, a malicious smile spreading across his face.

"Lord Sakuna" he heard a women say.

"What is it?" He replied.

"Your wife has grown ill again" she spoke again.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I really dont care. Just leave her outside. It's a full moon tonight. The wolves will take care of her. " He was too busy to deal with or kill another woman. He was preoccupied with thinking of how to get rid of you. The women behind the sliding door to his tea room hesitated, and that annoyed him. "Do not make me repeat myself," he sighed, then stopped, "you said again?" He hadnt realized what women she was talking about before.

He got up from the floor and walked across the room with a smile on his face. "You're talking about that idiot woman, the one in pink?" He smiled, and your maid nodded. He had thought you would get an infection from being thrown into the pond and that he guessed that was what happened. "Maintain her treatment," he said, simply looking down. You maid stammered, taken aback by his words, but bowed "yes my lord," she said and walked away. He slid the door shut and returned to his spot by his table. He cast a look out the window and sighed again. "So much for getting rid of her" he mumbled a slight feeling of worry in his chest.

...

He found himself walking down the hallway it was mostly quiet but as wrapped around the corners leading to the chambers his wives resided he heard a distant commotion, it atarted with random thumps then as he got closer he could hear panicked voices. When he walked across the corridor and into the wives' chamber, he was met with disaray. Women were huddled in their doorways, their eyes cast down the hallway, not having noticed he stepped in. There were maids and servents rushing in and out of your room. Bloody sheets and gauze was stacked up along the hallway across from your door. Calmly he walked down the hall and into the room. The doctor he assigned to you was sweating profusely and trying to mix something up, the vanity in your room having become a sort of medical lab. You maid stood beside you, gripping your hand and his eyes widened when they finally found you.

You were barely covered, a sheet wrapped around you breasts and your lower region. Your hair was sprawled out around your head and your skin was ghastly. Your eyes were glazed over, and you were staring up at the ceiling. "Hes up there I know he is" you whispered, and your maid shook her head. "Hes not Y/N, please stop," she shushed, her voice tremmbling. There was so much commotion that no one seemed to notice. Something he had to fix.

He cleared his throat and the doctor and your maid snapped their heads up. "Would anyone care to explain what is going on here?" He smiled. The dr looked back down and continued mixing up a white liquid. "Shes gone into septic shock. Her wounds are badly infected, but shes not responding to the medicine. It is not touching the swelling nor her fever." He rushed slamming down the spoon in his hand. He carefully held the cup and rushed to your side. "Please help me ipen her mouth" he said to your maid and she nodded. "Y/N time to take your medicine" she whispered and he pondered at the sound of your name. He had never heard it before, never thought to learn it.

You didn't reply, just smiled weakly up at them. "I miss my father," you croaked. They ignored what you said and dumped the liquid down your throat, the aggression of it making him cringe. "This is fixable, I assume?"Sakuna said, and the dr. looked up at him. "At this point, I dont know my lord," he said with the face of a man that had accepted his own death. It almost made him laugh. "You know what happens if she dies doctor" he seethed under his sharp smile and the dr nodded. "Im well aware my lord." He said rushing back to the medicine table. "Has she swallowed it?" The dr called back and your maid looked into your mouth. "She has but it looks like-"

For a second time, it slowed down, and it was the scent that hit his noce first. It was the smell of rot, death. It came from you. He snapped his eyes up, and before you could return his gaze, he noticed your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your limbs began to shake, and he swiftly came to your side, shoving your maid away. "Leave us," he commanded. He worked on impulse, placing his hand on your chest he attempted to use reversed curse energy to take down your infection. It was a new technique to him so its effectivity would vary. He hoped it would take the edge off of the infection because after this seizure passed, he knew you would die. You were weak and he hated that. "Pathetic" he mummbled placing his hand on your chest. He focused his energry and suddenly he felt your body inflate underneath his palm. You took a deep breathe in and your eyes shot open. They immediately snapped to him but they didnt look grateful, nor happy. You looked horrified.

He felt a twinge of anger at the expressiona nd had half the mind to keep healing you until your body simply quit. "Im healing your wounds," he mumbled, but your expression remained the same.

You looked at him now like he was a monster and he hated it. 'I hate it?' He thought to himself, a chuckle bubbled up in his throat, and he began to laugh. He hated when you looked at him like a man, he hated when you looked at him like a monster. "Its best you dont look at me" he smiled but your eyes stayed locked onto him. He stared back at you feeling the challenge in your gaze. His smile slowly fell and he felt himself lift his right hand and strike you across the face. "I said enough!" He yelled.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and a welt of his hand swelled up on your face. Blood trickled down your face where his nails had dug into your cheek.

He had hit you harder than he meant to. He stood breathing heavily and took his hands off your body, staring down at you. The thoughts that had been in his head had vacated, and now he was left with a deafening silence and a nauseating sickness that churned in his stomach. He sighed and turned around, leaving the room.

This time, he left his palace and didn't return. He walked out the palace doors and down to the nearest village, pumbeling it to the ground, from the top of the hill all his wives heard the screams of those below but the snuggled deeper into their blankets avoiding the sound. As he drained the men and women of the village of their blood, snapping their necks and making them shreik, he felt his stomach turn in disgust. He felt angry at himself for hurting you. He wanted to march up the hill and heal the welt on your face. He wanted to swoop you under his arms and keep your from the world. It seemed you were better off untainted by it anyhow.

He sent no word of where he was going or how to contact him. He just left. Spending the next couple of months, basically killing and pillaging. He hungered for more power, and it was through this he was able to obtain it.

The day he returned, it was snowing and dark. The warm yellow lights of his palace looked cozy and comforting. A smile spread across his face when he thought of seeing you again. You had occupied a good part of his mind in the calmer times of his "vacation," but he tried to avoid the subject. It always led back to the memory of his hand print on your face, and he hated that it bothered him so. He walked up the wooden steps and swung open the doors. A gust of heat hit his body first and he took a deep breath in enjoying the stark difference in temperature.

Things looked the same on the inside, the smell as well. It's as if time had frozen since his departure. There were no sounds either, no people in sight. He closed the door behind him and started walking the palace. On his way around it a few maids scurried by, dropping their heads when they noticed him. "Welcome back, my lord," they squeaked. He ignored them and kept walking. His feet took him to your hallway. It was completely quiet, and all the lights were off, darkening the walkway to the point of pitfh black. He found his way to the end of the hallway and slowly opened your door. He half expected you to be gone. An empty mattress was the only thing left, but that wasn't the case. You were tucked neatly in your bed, facing the window. He snuck in, sliding the door behind him, and found his way to your side.

He slipped two of his arms under your back and two under your legs and lifted you easily up. Your eyes popped open, a gasp leaving your mouth but he shushed you.

Without a word uttered between you, he carried you back from where he had come, making his way to the main entrance and out the front door. His personal room was hidden underneath the palace from a different exit. It would be too obvious to sleep in the superfluous building. He covered your eyes and made his way to a mossy stone carving. It was of a dragon, a horrid looking one. The surrounding area was thick with trees and shrubbery, so someone would have to be pretty hard pressed to notice the statue. He harshly twisted its head, and a vaulted door opened beneath him. He stepped down the stairs, and it closed quickly behind him.

It was a long staircase and much more dingey than he remembered. He didn't spend much time down here. Rest at this point for him was somewhat of a pleasure activity, so he usually found himself busing himself with his studies or training. At the bottom of the stairs was another door. He opened it, being met with a blast of warm air. It smelled good as well, a deep perfume smell, along with the hint of smell the fireplace gave off. The carpet was plush red, and though the room wasn't huge, it was big enough to keep a red pit coach as well as a mahogany canopy bed on the far right corner. It was surrounded by whispy red fabrics that matched the theme of the room. He chose to keep things red and black. The coach was a dark perfect black along

You stared seemingly at nothing, not having said a word the entire way. "You will live here from now on" you said lowly and you snapped your head towards him, your eyes locking onto his. He saw your mouth open slightly to protest but you quickly closed it and turned your head back to it original position. "Yes, my lord," you said, your voice cool and calm. He smirked. "Am I not your husband?"

You nodded "Yes, my husband" you said your voice robotic now, lacking the same livelihood it had the first night he met you. It burned him and he felt rage well up into his throat.

#sakuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen sakuna #jjk sakuna #sakuna x reader #sakuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen

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petersprincesss · 2 years

Text

Liar - Peter Ballard x Reader

You're sent out to the lab to inspect a leak in the ceiling. What you end up finding is much more interesting.

Howdy! This is my first time writing in Stranger Things, so it's nice to meet ya'll! I'm open to continuing this work if you are interested in it, but I really wanted to get this first section out in the meantime. Thank you for reading!

Rating: Explicit

Category: F/M

Relationships:

Peter Ballard/Reader

Peter Ballard/You

001/you

001/reader

Characters:

Peter Ballard

Henry Creel

001

Vecna (Stranger Things)

Martin Brenner

Additional Tags:

Dom/sub

Smut

Choking

Edging

almost noncon

dubcon

dom peter ballard

Insurance Adjuster. Such a glamorous title. Unfortunately, it seemed to bring more boredom than excitement, and checking out a leak inside Hawkins Lab sounded like it was going to be par for the course.

A man named Dr. Brenner had requested someone to come out and look at the damage a few days ago. As much as you didn’t want to make the drive to the remote location alone, it was your turn in the barrel.

The outside of the lab was nothing to write home about. Dull, gray concrete shrouded the exterior, the building cradled by dead trees and subdued brown grass. You pulled your car into a spot near the main entrance, noting the covert nature of the structure.

After making your way through the secure entrance, a receptionist led you down the dimly-lit hallways in promises of helping you find Dr. Brenner. You clutched your legal pad close to you, careful not to look too curious or let your eyes wander too far. You had heard this establishment was not friendly toward outsiders, and did its best to keep whatever secrets it was hiding to itself. A part of you was genuinely surprised that they were letting you inside, but it was your job, and you knew all too well that many large companies would take whatever handouts their insurance would give them.

Once you reached a heavy wooden door that bared Brenner’s name and title on its frosted glass window, the receptionist knocked gently. A voice on the other side instructed her to enter, and she opened the door, allowing you to step inside his office.

“Dr. Brenner, I’m-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off, already aware of who you were, “thank you for coming out on such short notice.”

Dr. Brenner stood from his noble wooden desk, removing a pair of reading glasses from his broad nose and set them on a stack of paperwork atop his workspace. He stepped around towards you and gave you a rather unassuming handshake.

“Not a problem, sir. Would you mind showing me the area of concern?” You requested, readying your notepad for whatever descriptions he may offer.

“Yes, of course, it’s just down the hall,” he informed, reaching behind you to hold his door open, allowing you and the secretary to exit. Dr. Brenner guided you further down the hall in the opposite direction you came, parting ways with the woman who led you there.

The hallways were grim, the entire building reeked of disinfectants and unidentifiable chemicals. The passages reminded you of a hospital that was somehow less homely than any medical setting you had been in before. The sound of your footsteps in stride with another slid across the smoothly glazed white tiles and echoed in your ears.

“The leak started roughly a week ago, we believe. It’s in a corner that doesn’t have a high volume of traffic, so I’m afraid it may have gone unnoticed for some time. Luckily, we were able to shut off the water a couple of days back, so the damage has not spread further,” Dr. Brenner described as you both came to the end of a corridor. A brown stain had formed in the tiles of the ceiling and the scent of mold crept into your nose. You clicked your pen and began jotting down a description of the damage. It was a rather unexciting blemish, and you shook your head to yourself, knowing that this would be another case of corporate greed.

“Have you seen damage anywhere else? Is there a floor above this?” You asked, still scrawling chicken scratches in your yellow notepad.

“It had to have been a pipe above these tiles. The room above this remains undamaged,” Dr. Brenner explained.

“Understood,” you nodded, clicking your pen and looking up to study the well-dressed gentleman, “I’m going to need someone from maintenance to get a ladder so I can move the tile and take a peek at where the leak originated.”

Dr. Brenner exhaled a bothered sigh, “Of course. Let me call-”

He was cut off by the secretary practically sliding around the corner, “Dr. Brenner!” She breathed, “you have a phone call!”

“Donna, can’t you see I’m a little preoccupied?” The doctor huffed.

“It’s urgent,” she remarked sternly, still attempting to catch her breath.

“God dammit,” Dr. Brenner muttered under his breath, “I’ll send someone from maintenance to help you. Please stay here until they arrive. Oh, and please do report back your findings to me upon your exit.”

The white-haired doctor stepped purposefully after the receptionist, leaving you alone with the blotch on the ceiling. You stared at the corner they disappeared around until the sound of their footsteps receded, hearing only the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you.

“Please do report back your findings to me upon your exit,” you mocked under your breath, attempting to fill the eerie silence, “Whatever you say.”

Time practically stood still in the desaturated aisles. What exactly was behind these white tiles anyway? What could be so important? You checked your wrist watch. Barely two minutes had passed. You could have sworn it had been at least five. Your eyes trailed up and down the smooth walls, the bull-nosed edges on the corners of the walls in stark contrast to the strict lines of the stack-bonded glazed tile. Looking back towards the ceiling and the stain that had now become your only company, you noticed a red light glowing in the corner of the hallway. A little black camera watched you, surely tracking your every move. The red eyeball taunting you, reminding you that although you may feel lonely, you are not alone.

“I don’t have time to wait for this creep to send someone. There has to be a janitor somewhere.”

You confidently strode off, marching down the hallway, rounding a different corner than the one the doctor and receptionist had vanished behind moments ago. All of the doors and hallways blended together. Some doors were double, some only single, but all painted the same drab off-white, none marked as to what was behind them. Doors, white tile, and cameras all becoming more and more of a blur with each corner you turn.

Finally, you come across a door with something to give you a clue.

That was all the text on the outside had to offer. Ten.

“Ten of what?”

You tuned the handle out of curiosity, but unsurprisingly, it was locked. Determined to find someone, you continued down the hall.

“Not helpful.”

Finally, another set of double doors, although not marked. As you approached, the sound of a child’s laughter danced in your ear. Cautiously, you stepped closer, shifting your weight to the front of your feet inside your modestly-high heeled shoes in hopes of gaining more insight as to what a child could possibly be doing in a place like this. You leaned onto one of the doors, gently enough to make sure you could only listen and not open the door and give yourself away. More giggling emanated from behind the door, the sound of children scurrying about and chattering with each other.

Your curiosity had you in a chokehold now. You had to know what was behind the door, Dr. Brenner be damned.

You pushed benignly on the door, careful only to open it exactly the width of your eye. You took a deep breath as your body hovered closer to the opening, peering inside what felt like another dimension.

Your eyes were met with a site you wouldn’t expect. Children, all wearing hospital gowns bustling about, each playing with a toy or a friend. The walls, although still white and sterile, had tiles running through them, colored in the order of a perfectly neat rainbow. Red blocks in orderly stacks, silver marbles clattering together on a wooden board, and toy cars humming along the clean vinyl floor. Nothing out of its place, yet nothing overly polished either. Your eyes trailed all throughout the room until they were met with another set of eyes, staring directly at you, unwavering in their gaze.

You jerked away from the door in shock. You were certain you were not supposed to be seen, and this would be your only warning. But your mind flashed back to the pair of eyes. A sea of blue amidst the insipid chaos, shaded only by a slew of the softest blonde hair.

You leaned back onto the cool tile next to the door, taking a deep breath. Just as you closed your eyes and exhaled a sigh of relief, the door swung back, and that blonde hair made an appearance again. The man beneath it was taller than you had expected, standing over you by a decent measurement. His body was clothed in a pressed white shirt and clean-cut trousers. A black leather belt cut a noticeable contrast through his waist that you couldn’t help but survey. Elegant lines of white shrouded him in a mystery that you couldn’t help but desire to solve.

“Can I help you?” The voice beneath the blonde locks spoke. His tone was light and delicate, asking you genuinely.

“Oh, I uhm,” you sputtered, your brain a jumbled mess, trying its best to process everything you had just taken in, “My name is Y/N, I’m here with the insurance agency, I was looking for a janitor and I must have gotten lost, I was just looking-”

“It’s okay, I know this place is confusing. Let me get you where you need to be,” he offered kindly, a delicate grin spreading across his lips.

You smiled back, biting the edge of your lip nervously. You couldn’t help but admire his charming features, and you welcomed the company of someone so helpful and alluring.

“My name is Peter, by the way,” he spoke as the two of you stepped down the hallway. He clasped his hands together behind his back, looking over to you.

“Pleased to meet you, Peter. I appreciate your help, I’m afraid I got a bit turned around…” your voice trailed off. You weren’t sure how truthful to be. Your eyes darted up towards yet another camera in the ceiling, staring down at the two of you.

“It’s okay, this place feels very complicated at first,” he reassured you. He was so understanding and mellow. Your heart rate returned to a normal place, sensing you were now protected and guided.

“What, um, what exactly was that room? I didn’t expect to see children here,” you let out a nervous chuckle, hoping he would find humor in the situation as well.

“Well, it’s a bit of a story. I’m assuming you weren’t told much before you came here, right?’

You shook your head, “Nearly nothing. I’m just an insurance adjuster looking at a leak in the ceiling.”

You could sense Peter was ready to lay a truth on you that you may not have been ready to receive, when you heard a determined pair of footsteps advance on the two of you from behind.

“Ah, Y/N, Peter, I see you two have met,” a familiar voice spoke. The pair of you turned around to see Dr. Brenner, now standing at your heels.

“I caught her sticking her nose where it shouldn’t have been,” Peter spoke. Your eyes shot over to his, but he denied you his warm eye contact.

“That was my greatest fear,” Dr. Brenner sighed, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his jaw back towards the ceiling.

“What? No, I-” You began, but you were cut off

“She claims she’s an insurance adjuster, but I’m not sure I buy it,” Peter said, finally turning his gaze back to you, running his eyes up and down your frame as if to gauge your abilities.

Your eyes met his again, but they were not the same cerulean pools of comfort you had seen before. They now presented as icy and dominant.

“What? No, Dr. Brenner, you spoke to my agent, he sent me here, you know that’s the truth,” you began to plead.

“Did she see anything?” Brenner quizzed.

“The Rainbow Room,” Peter responded, his voice now void of any emotion, cocking his head to one side, his face dropping any kindness it previously held.

Dr. Brenner let out an exhausted breath in frustration as he closed his eyes.

“Get rid of her. Make sure she does not return,” he demanded.

Dr. Brenner turned sharply on his heel as Peter grasped ahold of your elbow with such force that you dropped your notepad, your pen clattering on the floor.

“Come with me,” Peter instructed, dragging you away towards what you only hoped was an exit.

“Peter, no- Dr. Brenner! Please!” You cried out, trying to jerk yourself away from his tenacious grip.

The two of you shuffled down the hallway, practically dancing as you attempted to slip his grasp. You noticed his cheekbones flex as he clenched his jaw, determined to keep you at his side. You had a solid feeling that you could out-run him, given the opportunity, it was only a matter of freeing yourself beforehand. You turned your elbow inward, writhing your arm away from him and felt your only chance. You wasted no time breaking into a sprint, your legs striding as fast as your body would allow, your toes jamming into the front of your shoes with each step.

The corridor came to an end with a tight corner, and as you slipped around the side of the wall, you felt a strong palm slap onto your wrist and nails digging into your skin.

“Peter, please! Please, just let me go!”

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” Peter taunted, pulling your arm behind your back, pinning your wrist between your shoulder blades in an uncomfortable predicament. His other hand met your once-freed forearm and latched onto you, taking no chances on your escape.

You thrashed beneath his hold, both of you panting and grunting at the futile attempts to defeat the other. Fed up with your squirming, Peter slammed you into a closed door, flipping your body around so you were now face-to-face with the once loving and trustworthy orderly, his hands locked onto your shoulders, holding you steady. His eyes bore into yours, his pupils darting back and forth between your right and left eyes as if searching for something he had not previously detected.

“What do you want from me?” You asked desperately, willing to offer anything in exchange for your freedom.

“I want you,” he began, his eyes trailing away from yours and down your neck, “to behave.”

You writhed beneath him again and his eyes shot back up to yours.

“Can you do that?”

“Go to hell.”

You spat directly into his eye, hoping it would catch him off guard enough to release you. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, tilting his head to the floor and tightened his grasp on your shoulders, sliding them down to your biceps.

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that,” Peter grinned up at you.

His right hand left you momentarily to reach down and open the door you were plastered to. You fell back into the room once hidden by the doorway and attempted to stay on two feet. Your eyes scanned the room, hopelessly searching for anything that may aid you. You were met with only black square tiles lined with silver framing, a one-way mirror on one wall and a desolate silver table across the vacant room. Your eyes flashed up to the camera in the corner, only to find that the red light that had stared you down so dauntingly before was missing.

Peter stood in the doorway, his face tilted downward disapprovingly and his eyes peering upward from beneath his eyebrows.

“Peter,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your feet slid discreetly away from him.

“Yes?”

“I trusted you, I need you to trust me too.”

“Oh, I trust you entirely,” he began, stepping into the room, sliding his slender hand around the door’s handle and closing it behind him, never letting his gaze leave your frame, “I know you’re telling the truth.”

“What? But then, why… why are you doing this?” Your heart was racing inconsistently, never certain what was coming.

“Can’t you see? This was the plan from the beginning.”

Peter’s face changed again, as if he was a shifting creature that defied the laws of Earth. His intimidating stare turned back to a grin, but it was not the same delightful grin he offered when he first exited the Rainbow Room.

“I don’t understand…” your voice trailed off. You fell motionless as he stalked towards you.

“From the moment I saw your lovely little eyes peek into that room, I knew I wanted you. I felt your presence long before you leaned against that door.”

You wanted to question how any of this was feasible, but with everything that had transpired within the last twenty minutes alone, you had learned to stop questioning what constituted reality inside the Hawkins Lab.

A burning within you knew you felt the same. The way those sapphire eyes gleamed when you first locked eye contact with him, the fact that you couldn’t help but glance down at his leather belt and the pleats in his pants, how his flesh felt against yours, how easily he tamed you, all of it, playing on a loop in the back of your head as you watched his body close the gap between yours.

“I know that’s what you want too. I felt that the moment you stepped in here as well,” Peter taunted. With the door closed, the two of you were fully alone, completely forsaken by anyone else.

He was right. You knew he was completely correct. But here? Now?

Your body shifted, feeling the adrenaline switch from a fight or flight response into pure lust. The tension between your shoulders released as you felt your foot delicately take a step towards Peter.

“Please, Peter,” you began to beg as your bodies drew in closer. He reached out a hand towards you, placing his index finger beneath your chin and his thumb on top of it, tilting your jaw up towards him.

“Please, what?”

“Please, I do want this,” you heard yourself gasp.

Your breath hitched, your stomach dropping so rapidly you could hardly register any signals in your brain. Peter brought a gentle hand up to the small of your back, his eyes still perforating yours, edged with grandeur desires of ownership.

“Good.”

You looked down at your feet, standing so timidly between his wide stance. Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut as he brought his face forward, his lips brushing against yours dearly. He kissed you with the possessiveness you didn’t know you craved, his tongue adventurously exploring the gap between your teeth and bottom lip, swiping back and forth as if asking permission to venture further. Your shoulders relaxed, your hands falling faintly at your sides, your knees ready to buckle. You expected your body to fold and bow before him, and you likely would have if it weren’t for his stern hold on your lower back, pulling your torsos together effortlessly.

You inhaled sharply as you pulled away from his kiss, your eyes floating up to meet his. You couldn’t help it any longer, the heat in your abdomen was ready to ignite, you needed him now. Your fingers crawled up to the collar of his polished white uniform, your nails drawing invisible lines, tracing over his chest as you began to undo his top button. Peter grasped your wrists with a jolt, halting you instantly.

“Ladies first,” he instructed.

Peter released your wrists and his hands darted for the buttons of your blouse. He took his time, delicately removing a button from its assigned spot and sliding it out from beneath the fabric. Seconds turned into hours in your mind, your frustration mounting.

“Fucking… waste of time,” Peter growled, digging his hands under your collar and pulling away in opposite directions. An orgasmic sigh lept from within you as the buttons of your blouse popped off individually and trickled down onto the vinyl floor, leaving your heaving chest exposed for the orderly to explore.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way to either side of your head, nesting in your hair behind your ears as he selfishly kissed you again, practically swallowing your tongue. You rested your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his neck as he leaned into you forcefully. His right hand trailed down your neck, his fingernails carving a path from your ear to your collarbone.Your hand found its way to the back of his skull and you gripped a fistfull of that soft blonde hair that had caught your eye previously. Peter’s kiss stopped, his lips trailing rapidly down your cheek to your neck, sliding his hand away to make room for his teeth to graze your hastily rising pulse.

You moaned gently into his ear resting comfortably beside your lips, each breath praising him and thanking his actions. Peter’s hands left your upper body and his fingers began sliding up your thighs beneath your skirt, practically clawing at your skin. His thumb settled gently on your center, sending a slick shiver up your spine that erupted in a wanton moan escaping your lips.

Peter rested one hand atop your shoulder, his other finding its way to your waist. His forehead lifted up and pressed into yours, his eyes just inches away, his breath falling into you with a heat that demanded your attention. He stepped back into you, each of you falling into a familiar dance as he guided you towards the silver metal table on the opposite end of the room. His thumb wavered back and forth, tenderly massaging your cheek as he looked through you. The back of your thighs finally met the cool edge of the table he escorted you to.

“Sit,” he instructed, placing both hands at your waist and lifting you slightly so that your legs dangled off the ledge. Both of his hands relaxed on either side of your neck, his thumbs rubbing along your jawline.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed.

“You won’t,” you promised, knowing you meant it.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. His voice reverted back to the kind and caring fashion that you recognized when you first met him.

“I’m positive,” you breathed, frightened that you might have to concede to begging him if he didn’t give you what you needed immediately.

“What if,” he began, his voice trailing off as he turned his face away from you for the first time since you had stepped into the room together. He physically bit his tongue as if he was afraid to confess his thoughts.

“What?” You panted, growing more and more impatient, “What if what?”

“What if I want to play rough?”

Your chest heaved, your heated breath bathing his porcelain skin, your stomach dropping further into your abdomen.

“I want you to be rough with me,” you practically ordered.

Peter grinned, exhaling a sigh of relief that you were up to his challenge. He had waited so long to be with someone like you. To please someone as angelic as you. He wanted so desperately to satisfy you, to draw shameless moans from within you and hear them spill out of you, removing your control.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his hair back out of his face and slipped back into his domineering headspace.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You obeyed him, leaning back onto your palms allowing your thighs to glide across the frigid tabletop. Peter knelt down onto one knee, leveling his eyes with your center. He watched you intently, his cherubic eyes never leaving yours. He wanted to relish in every movement you made.

His touch glided up your legs once more, his curious fingers hooking around the top of your undergarments. Never breaking eye contact, he slipped them out from beneath your skirt, dragging out the process to a glacial pace that further accelerated your winded breaths. The chilled, conditioned air breezed over your delicate skin, sending a surge of goosebumps down your body. Once your undergarments fell to the floor, he stood back to his full height, rising above you. His arm stretched out and he slipped a hand over the front of your neck, feeling your hurried pulse beneath his touch.

“Someone’s anxious,” he remarked, tilting his head inquisitively.

“I’m ready for you,” you told him. You had a premonition he wanted you to beg him to go further, beg him to ruin you, but you weren’t ready to give in so easily.

“I don’t think you are,” he disagreed, “but I think you can prove me wrong.”

“And how do you want me to do that?” You smiled up at him, longing for him to tame you.

“Beg me.”

Your heart sank, not out of disappointment that your vision had come true, but out of pure lust. You bit your bottom lip, lowering your chin to your chest so you could stare at Peter innocently below your fluttering eyelashes.

“Please, Peter.”

“Please what?” Peter questioned. His grip tightened slightly on your throat, pushing just roughly enough that you felt your heartbeat rise inside your brain.

“Do you want me to make a mess of you?” He asked.

“Yes, please. Please make a mess of me,” you begged.

“Good girl.”

Peter eased his grip on your neck and reached down to unzip his white trousers. You watched his slender hands feverishly, your mind racing with endless possibilities. You instinctively edged yourself closer to the brink of the table, widening your legs so he could take you immediately.

Peter pulled himself from the opening of his zipper, guiding himself towards you. He stopped just as he touched your entrance.

“You sure you want this?”

“Peter, fucking fuck me!”

He wasted no time, pushing into you swiftly. He let out a pornographic groan as you tightened around him, feeling your warmth engulf him entirely. You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. You wanted to hear every delirious note that left his mouth.

He set a rhythm at once, wasting not a precious second inside you. His moans flowed into you and you sent them back, the two of you inhaling and exhaling each other’s desire. His right palm slithered around the back of your neck, pushing your head down so your vision was filled only with him thrusting into you.

“That’s right, watch me fuck you,” he praised. His left hand wrapped around the back of your knee, pulling you up onto him. Fingers still in place, his thumb snaked around your throat, pushing delicately into your trachea just enough to keep your breathing under his control. Both of your hands found his shoulders, the ridges of your nails clawing into his shirt, helplessly looking for something to ground you amidst the intense waves of pleasure cascading inside you.

“God, Peter!” You exclaimed, formal sentences now foreign to you.

“God can’t help you,” Peter snarled.

His clench changed positions to your throat, pushing you supine onto the table, causing you to tighten your grip onto him. He slammed an open palm down onto the metal surface next to your head, drawing his face up next to yours so that the tips of your noses brushed against one another. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, the next drop forming beneath a now-tangled mess of blonde strands. Your arms fell back openly around you as you ratcheted your head back, allowing him further access to your neck. Your ankles crossed together behind him, nudging his body closer to yours.

Peter buried his face between your shoulder and head, his lips grazing your ear, presenting you with his animalistic moans up close. The sound alone was enough to send heat waves from your head to your core. Peter bit down on your soft flesh, gnawing tenderly beneath your earlobe. You felt like a teenager again, knowing you would walk away with blue and purple petals blooming within your skin that would demand attention, declaring that Peter Ballard fucking owned you.

“I’m going to c-” You began to say, but just as the last syllables left your tongue, Peter pulled away immediately, rising back up to a stance, removing himself entirely from you.

“Did I fucking tell you that you could cum?” He catechized emotionlessly, raising one eyebrow.

“N- No, I-”

Peter laid down a hard smack on the inside of your thigh, mere inches from your tender core, forcing you to emit an unexpected squeal.

“You don’t do fucking anything unless I tell you to,” he instructed.

“Yes, Peter,” you nodded, knowing you’d commit any acts necessary to have him inside you again.

“Good. Flip over.”

You followed his commands, the tips of your toes barely touching the floor while you supported yourself on your elbows, your flushed cheeks meeting the table’s surface.

His foot kicked the inside of your ankle, spreading your stance farther apart. Peter shoved your skirt up so it rested ambiguously atop your hips, then shifted a hand to the crook of your pelvis, pulling your entrance up to meet him again.

“Give me that,” he commanded, snatching your wrist and twisting it so that it was pinned against your back in a familiar fashion. Each muscle and tendon within you felt stretched to its limit, your body attempting to keep his precarious positioning of you with whatever strength you could still identify.

More gradually than before, Peter sunk back into you, swiftly bottoming out. He accelerated back to his previous pace as if he was anxious that he wasn’t going to have enough time inside you. His grip crawled away from your hip to push his messy blonde mane back once more. Peter’s fingers then tangled into your own hair, wrapping themselves around each lock so he could force your head up and curve your spine backwards.

Each thrust into you only brought you closer towards your climax, you were running out of time to ask for his permission to release, and you knew he could feel it creeping closer.

“What’s the matter, Y/N, are you trying to hold it for me?” Peter chuckled, yanking your hair back harder towards his chest. The sound of him speaking your name between each labored breath alone nearly pushed you over the edge.

“Yes, oh my God, Peter please!”

Peter unleashed a devilish smile and shook his head.

“Poor little Y/N, can’t keep herself from cumming even when she knows she’s not allowed to.”

His cocky arrogance and handsome grin mixed with the pressure building on your cervix was too much, you felt yourself step off the edge and fall aimlessly into a heaven you didn’t know could be found on Earth. Your brain let go, each wave of pleasure detonating within you with a force you were unaware you possessed.

“Fucking hell, you’re going to make me cum,” Peter grunted.

He released his hold on your hair and wrist, focusing his touch on your hips, greedily pulling you back further onto him. His words were a blur to you, hanging in the empty room, waiting for you to return to your body and register them. A warmth engulfed your torso, drifting from your core, up your back to your brain. You felt Peter release inside you, his grasp still anchored to your hips.

The two of you waited there motionless, attempting to fill your lungs with enough air to bring you back to reality. Your eyelids fell heavy, your entire body strung out from the intense shockwave he had given to you. Shaking with satisfaction, you brought your arms in front of you, immediately feeling a soreness emanate from them as you pushed yourself back up to a standing position, your skirt sliding down over the dripping mess Peter had just made of you.

Peter clutched the back of your neck once more and spun you around, crashing his lips into yours. Although still fully in control, that gentle spirit that first attracted you to him broke through, a glowing and peaceful aura returning to his electric touch.

“Thank you,” you gasped, breaking away from him, unsure of what else you could offer up.

“No, thank you, Y/N,” he replied, those polite blue eyes penetrating yours.

“I think I should, um, probably leave. I mean, I don’t want you to get in trouble,” you offered. Reality’s gray tones set back in, and you knew the doctor you had met with at the beginning of this ordeal would likely be looking for both of you at this point.

“What makes you think I’m the one in trouble here?” Peter asked, his eyes glazing over, “I’ve only just started with you.”

#peter ballard smut #peter ballard x you #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x y/n #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #001 #001 x you #001 x reader #001 x y/n #001 smut #henry creel #vecna #smut #fics #my work

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imliketheiceifreeze · 10 months

Text

Come Come Kitty- Part one

Recom Quaritch x AFAB Reader

warnings: flirting, swearing, injury, eventual smut, MINORS DNI

In the lab as usual, your eyes glazed over in boredom as you measured out countless samples and prepared for the next days experiments. If you had known you’d still be stuck in a lab 24/7 you may have reconsidered your deployment to pandora.

Sucking in a deep breath as you held the test tube tightly in your hand, you imagined your paradise-running through the pandoran forest, feeling the mossy floor beneath your feet and the rush of wind against your face. Maybe you had your own Ikran if you didn’t die trying to catch it you chuckle to yourself.

Yeah that pipe dream, the only reason you left your old world behind, got squashed pretty fast. This place is as damn depressing as earth with the stupid military men stomping about in their ridiculous boots and the grey and camouflage colour scheme of the whole goddamn base was enough to drive anyone crazy.

"Y/N," a sharp voice cut through your dreaming and you turned your head sharply in surprise. Dr Augustine just stared back at you for what felt like an eternity before nodding her head toward your hand

"Fuck!" You exclaimed, realising your tight grip had shattered the test tube, ramming glass into your hand. So fucking stupid, how had you not noticed your own blood running down your wrist, staining your lab coat. Springing up from your chair you sped over to a sink to contain the blood, assessing the damage.

"are you alright?" Dr Augustine asked, unusually concerned from behind you as you feebly attempted to pull pieces of glass from the cuts in your hand. She grabbed your wrist to stop you.

"Y/N, you need to see the medic," she just said uncharacteristically softly, placing one hand on your shoulder as you said nothing just closed your eyes so frustrated at yourself for always causing this kind of mess.

"sorry," You mumbled as you ignored Grace’s advice and continued to pry at the glass embedded in you.

"stop," She breathed.

You felt it coming, your face growing hot and your bottom lip trembled as you tried to keep it contained, tears welling up in your eyes until you couldn’t see.

"I’m sorry," You murmured again as you felt your obvious sadness slip down your face in front of the woman you looked up to and wanted to impress. You wished you were crying for the pain of being stabbed.

"It’s okay kid, lets get you to the medic."

You knew you must’ve been an awful state for Grace to not have bothered lecturing you about the wasted samples or the shattered glass, only gripping your shoulder as she led you out of the lab towards the med bay. You let your arm drop to your side, small dots of red leaving a trail of evidence behind your every step. "I’ve got someone for you," she called cheerfully as we rounded the corner.

"oh what is it now grace, another lab explosion, or did you poison someone with toxic chemicals this time?" The nurse chattered cheerfully

"just this one, a bit clumsy with the glass wear it seems."

"oh," The nurse only spoke, leaving her mouth in an o shape long after the words left her lips as her eyes finally laid on you. Her nametag read ‘rose’. A pretty name, it suited her with her flaming orange locks and soft red cheeks against alabaster skin.

She hurried over to you and guided you to an empty bed. "Just stay there for a minute whilst I get the doctor," she called, scurrying away and calling out some words about blood loss and shock.

"do you want me to stay with you?"

you almost laughed but didn’t want to be rude. "I’m okay Dr Augustine, it doesn’t hurt," you replied with a weak smile.

"Okay, it's your call kid," she departed swiftly, obviously anxious to get back to her true passion. Navi forestry and the lab. I wish I could find peace in something like that, to actually enjoy it.

"Just lie back now the doctors going to give you some gas and air," a doctor spoke and I suddenly seemed to be crowded by a team of people.

"no!’ You exclaimed harshly."

"No?"

"No I don’t want it, I’m fine without."

"Are you sure? It’s going to hurt..."

"yes I’m sure don’t give me that," you exclaimed as you struggled against their hands pushing you to the bed, moving your head from side to side to avoid the mask coming down over your eyes

"patients heart rate increasing."

"I think she’s going into shock."

"no I’m not don’t put that on me."

"patient needs to be sedated."

You struggled against their firm grip as you felt a needle stab into your arm and the world begin to blur. "No please," you cried out in terror as I felt the world slip away.

"It’s okay, just relax," Rose gripped your hand as you tried to make out their faces as they blurred and contorted. You could feel the panic set in, you wanted to run but the lights went out before you could even try.

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

Opening your eyes, you were shocked at the bright lights, quickly closing them again to ease the burn. you were wheeled over to another bed in a quiet room that only one other person seemed to occupy. You vaguely felt yourself being lifted into the other bed and being wrapped in blankets as you allowed yourself drift away to sleep again.

When you awoke for the second time you were alert and able to fully take in your surroundings: a room filled with beds with thin paper curtains as the only small privacy. Overflowing with boredom you decided to get on your feet and explore, Not the easiest task when dosed up on god knows what drugs but just as you were about to grab the door handle you heard a condescending voice

"Now where in the hell do you think you’re going?"

You whipped around and stared at the man, recognizing him to be colonel Quaritch. Leader of the RDA and fearless warrior. You would be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by him. "Out," you replied curtly, challenging him to stop you.

"So it was you causing all that trouble before, can’t listen to instructions very well can you," he tutted, taking in your dishevelled form in only your jeans and bra with a well bandaged wrist.

"it’s not exactly in the scientist job description, sorry you can’t boss me around like your own private sir," you stood defensively as if he would strike you from his comfortable spot on the bed, only then did you notice the bandage around his oversized torso. His eyes creased as he chuckled lightly at your comment, as though your presence was providing him with pure amusement.

"Come on kitty, what you gonna do? Bite me?’ He cooed mockingly.

"I’ll claw your god damn eyes out," You hissed lowly, never breaking eye contact.

"I see why they had to sedate you for a few stitches now," He laughed again. He was really starting to piss you off when all of a sudden you felt the room spin and felt yourself begin to fell forward, grabbing onto the end of the bed you’d previously been laying on for purchase.

"Whoa easy there," He jumped up to your side, cradling an arm around your waist to steady you.

"Leave me alone, you’re injured."

"And you’re a liability," He replied attempting to help you to your bed whilst you tried feebly to push him away. "come on darling you’re not exactly heavy," he said as he swooped an arm under your legs and began lifting you to your bed.

All you could do was place your palms against his bare chest to keep your balance as your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to avoid looking into his amber eyes but when you eventually stole a glance up, you could see that smug smile plastered over his face.

‘Here you go sweetheart, wasn’t so hard now was it?’ You felt too embarrassed to quip back, only focused on the warm skin that scorched your fingertips, and the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat with every breath he took as he eventually laid you back down onto the grimy hospital bed.

You only now realised just how close your faces were and quickly turned your head from him, jerking your body back instinctively, yet forgetting that your arms had looped themselves around his neck, effectively pulling him on top of you in the process. You could feel the harsh puffs of breath he released into the crook of your neck as he laughed, caging your with his arms as he forced you to look at him.

"And here was me thinking you didn’t like me, when all you really wanted was a good fu-"

"ahem," A cough interrupted your predicament, one from a very judgemental looking Dr Augustine. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the precarious situation, both you and the head of security shirtless in bed with your arms still trapping him close to your body.

Slowly you withdrew them like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar as the tension built in the room before Grace composed herself. "Well Colonel it seems you’ve already become well acquainted with Y/N, I’m sure it will come in useful on the new mission."

"Huh? New mission?" You scrambled away from Quaritch to the end of the bed, practically wagging your tail at the thought of finally leaving this godforsaken base.

"Yes, I had thought I would tell you both separately but I’m sending you down to pandora to collect important specimens as it seems you’ve been getting restless up here." You leapt up of the bed, embracing Grace in a hug causing her to stiffen.

"Thank you so much I won’t mess this up."

"I’m sure you won’t or I’ll have you shipped back to earth,’ she scolded in her usual tone, causing you to nod harshly, barely containing your excitement.

"Well look at that kitty, I guess you’ll have to put a hold on clawing my eyes out," the colonel whispered by your ear so that Grace couldn’t hear him. You only glared, unable to retaliate under her watchful gaze.

"Well I’ll leave you two to get dressed," Grace coughed, once again drawing light on the strange situation, making you roll your eyes, exclaiming,

"nothing like that was going on Dr Augustine," With a groan, hardly being able tell if she believed me or not.

"Hmm," She responded as she began to walk away.

"Oh and Y/N, I want you back in the lab tomorrow, head to your quarters and recover for the remainder of the day."

"yes Ma’am," she nodded satisfied before continuing her departure.

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

The sound of the chopper was so loud in your ears as you walked towards the helipad, it threw debris around us in a whirlwind that had you fighting with all your strength to take even a step forward. Your military escort pushed your head down, reminding you not to accidentally decapitate yourself on the propellers, as you pulled yourself into the body of the aircraft.

"There’s my favourite little science puke," His eyes bore into yours with that predatory look as he spoke, arms crossed against his, unfortunately, clothed chest causing his arms to bulge out, glistening slightly in the sun’s rays. For the first time you noticed the eagle tattoo settled on his forearm…

"If you’re done checking me out, we can get on with this science plant extraction bullshit."

Your breath caught in your throat as you realised he was indeed correct about your gaze lingering on his body much longer than necessary. "In your dreams," you scoffed half-heartedly as you took a seat next to one of the other soldiers.

"you alright? I’m Mansk" The soldier turned to you, introducing himself with his hand stuck out. Reaching out you shook it firmly.

"Y/N," you replied with a shy smile causing him to chuckle a little. Quaritch moved his arm in a circle, some kind of military signal, and you lifted off the ground.

"What exactly are we looking for then Princess?" Quaritch questioned lazily as he dropped himself into the unoccupied seat on your side, nodding to Mansk on your left.

You made a noise of disgust at the nickname, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your chest, this man is going to send you into cardiac arrest you're certain. "Its not just the plants, I need to bring back rock, earth, water samples, anything I can get really, this site has never been explored by humans before." You explained in excitement at the prospect.

Instead of making some cheap joke, Quaritch listened intently, eyes trained on yours. You took the time to examine them finally, deep honey coloured pools that stared at you with some kind of blazing intensity you couldn’t place.

"Touch down in T-Minus 5 Minutes," Quaritch shouted abruptly, turning his attention away from you finally. "Be ready boys, this is an easy trip, in and out, I wanna be back for dinner."

"Yes sir," his team replied in unison.

He stood up, leaning on one hip with his hands on his belt before directing all of his soldiers out of the aircraft. You felt bewildered and out of place, unsure of what exactly you should do.

"Come on Darlin’ u wanna be left behind?" He shouted over the sound of the chopper’s propellers, causing you to spring up to follow his team closely, jumping to the ground and hoping not to fall.

Quaritch was the last to leave before the aircraft left you alone in the middle of pandora making you realise suddenly how small and alone you were in this place. Nevertheless, you took in the magnificent view, massive trees and flowers surrounded you, the brightest greens and deepest blues you’d ever seen, it left you completely breathless.

‘Well then brainiac, do what you gotta do,’ the Colonel gestured with his arms towards the forest and expanse of open plane that surrounded everyone.

Not bothering to reply you began to unpack your supplies and examine the area. You became lost in thought as you took leaves, soil, grasses, drops of water-all things you hoped Dr Augustine would appreciate- and when you eventually looked around for the others, they were lounging around in the grass clearly bored out of their minds. You couldn’t really blame them though, you were the only one they were waiting for. Suddenly you felt a tug on your backpack, pulling you off balance.

"Hey! Stop wondering off I’ve already told you you’re a liability once."

You turned your head to him, looking sourly as he gazed down at you equally unimpressed. However, before you had time to formulate a response you were ripped from his grip, the force hurling you backwards to land on your side, when you looked up, to your horror you saw an enormous panther-esque animal, you thought you had heard Grace call it a thanator once…

it had Mansk in its paws whilst the other soldiers attempted to shoot at the animal. This only served to help slightly as more of the panther creatures leapt from the bushes in an ambush. In the chaos all of the soldiers scattered and ran, only then did you realise you were running too, clambering up a large tree to escape their foaming mouths and razor sharp teeth.

to be continued...

Taglist:

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@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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#colonel quaritch #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #miles quaritch fluff #recom squad #avatar #recombinant miles quaritch #avatar movie #stephen lang

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riddle-me-ri · 11 months

Note

Bestie CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!!! You’re an amazing writer so I gotta ask: could we please have Arkham Knight scarecrow with First Date Night? Possibly both fluffy and nsfw?

A/N: Aww thank you so much! I really appreciate it, and I’m really still unsure about Arkham scarecrow, so I’m gonna do my best, nothing outrightly nsfw but definitely hints at it at the end for sure! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word Count: 545

Arkham Knight Scarecrow - First Date Night

Jonathan Crane thought this was an absolute waste of time.

He understood your motives, he could appreciate your efforts. He just couldn’t help but find this “dinner date” unnecessary. He sat on the other side of the table with his arms crossed and almost slouching in his chair.

“The least you could do is eat.”

“This is a waste of time.”

You sighed exhausted. Jonathan hasn’t been the same since the Killer Croc incident. You held out hope that you could maybe bring him back around, but it’s proven to be very difficult.

You had hoped that the months of recovery would finally be rewarded. Alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

You knew he wasn’t going to be the same…how an anybody be after what he went through…

“I just…you gotta eat..and we haven’t had like…I dunno…a proper date in years.”

“Well, I haven’t been in a proper state have I?”

“Jonny-”

“Stop!”

There’s a pause. Silence hung in the room like a hunk of meat at the butcher’s. Thick, heavy, uncomfortable.

Until a slight growl could be heard. Then it happened again.

Finally you heard a disgruntled groan from the man in front of you.

“Jonathan…”

Jonathan groaned, the warm kitchen light highlighted his glazed eyes as he rolled them. You couldn’t help but smile as he reluctantly grabbed his fork and picked at the food.

At least he’s touching it, looking at it.

“You always did have a loud stomach…almost as obnoxious as you.” You quipped.

Jonathan looked up and glared at you, as if to scare you from any more smartass bantering. However, the thing he liked about you the most was also what frustrated him, you were pretty fearless.

You tried not to squeal with too much excitement as you found Jonathan slowly but surely eating the meal you cooked. You tried to occupy your excitement by eating the meal yourself.

Finally, some domesticity, even if it’s for just a little bit.

“Thank you…I apologize…”

You looked up, unsure of what to say. “I…it’s okay. I-I can’t imagine, but I know it has to be frustrating, just know that I want to help…to be here for you…even if you may not like it.” You chuckled breathlessly.

“I still can’t wrack my brain around why I was able to escape death…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

You got up from your seat and walked over to him. You embraced him from behind, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his chest. He lifted his hand and they covered over your hands that clasped together. He gave your hands a squeeze.

“Perhaps…I-I may know the reason now…”

Your arms tightened around him. You turned your head so that your lips met his skin as you began kissing his neck, jawline, and cheek.

Your body got exceptionally warm when you heard soft moans hum out of Jonathan. He turned his head to face yours. Without skipping a beat, you crashed your lips onto what remained of his.

When you slowly pulled away, you saw a tiny gleam of the old Jonny you adored in his eyes.

“Now, Dr. Crane…” You giggled. “Do you think you have enough room for dessert?”

#ri writes #ri 500 #arkhamverse scarecrow x reader #arkhamverse jonathan crane x reader #arkham knight scarecrow x reader #arkham knight jonathan crane x reader #vamp bunny 💅

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abbysdruidess · 10 months

Text

𒆜your very own dr anderson - modern au smut𒆜

wc: 1.1k

summary: Dr Anderson comes home from a long day of work to her favorite patient.

tags: abby gets off on you calling her doctor, fingering(r receiving), reader wears lingerie, clit spanking, dirty talk, no use of y/n, no beta we die like joel

a/n: can you guys tell I love handholding pics-_-

the construction worker!Abby fic will follow shortly:))

Abby was unruly obsessed with you calling her Doc or Dr Anderson. You were there on the day of her graduation, of course, cheering and whistling from the seat next to her dad when they called her name. She flashed you with a toothy grin and sent you a kiss in the air after they handed her the diploma. At the graduation party, you wrapped your arms around her first chance you got.

“Congrats doc” you whispered haughtily in her ear. “Perhaps you could examine me later, too” You swore you saw her eyes roll to the back of her head as she flexed her arms around you instinctively.

“Of course baby” She trailed her hands dangerously up your exposed things, her fingers just barely brushing your heat, feeling her pointer finger grazing your slit. “You’re my favorite patient.”

Seriously, her doctor kink went hard. You found out the easiest way to rile her up was in early weekend morning when she doesn’t work but still wakes up at dawn like clockwork, or at late nights when she comes home exhausted but still won’t say no to a few rounds is to find you laying on your side of the bed, all pouty and eyes downturned.

She had just come back from a 12 hour work shift, feeling altogether spent but still longing to see you. As soon as she entered the bedroom she saw you, sitting all prettily in a tiny silk robe.

“Doctor, could you please help?” You inch your hands to the front of the robe, slowly untying the silky girdle around your waist, following the way her eyes glazed over your exposed skin.

“I have this really bad ache south of my stomach.” You push more fabric off of you, revealing your lacy panties between your spread legs. The sight is enough to make her feral, and she quickly drops her briefcase to the floor and makes light work of her coat. Instead of plopping down on the bed with you though, she kneels beside you on the floor next to the bed, eyeing you lustfully.

“Show me, pretty.” She has that intimate, focused look-despite the bags under her eyes, she doesn’t feel tired at all, feeling the blood traveling to her groin briskly. Her gaze bores into you, devouring you completely and utterly before laying a finger on you, and there is a slight tremble in your fingers as you move your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cold air of the room. Your clit peaks from between your lips, and you can see the way it has swelled-shit, you felt so needy for her, you might as well be sick.

“Need to be more specific, honey.” She kicks her shoes off and gets on the bed behind you, encompassing you in her arms as she puts her beside your open ones. Your breath hitches as she moves to suck a bruise on your exposed neck, lovingly abusing the sensitive flesh. She cups your palms with hers, leading your own hands where you need her the most.

You dip a finger knuckle deep in your hole, gathering enough slick to rub your deprived clit pleasurably. You leave soft gasps as you lean your head back on her shoulder, face contorted in ecstasy, eyes tightly shut.

“Want me to help you baby?” You suddenly hear an ach-too sound and felt your pussy drenched in a warm, droopy liquid that ran down past your pussy and stopped at your asshole. In a quick, immaculate move, she grabs the edge of your lace and hastily rips it off of you, the material now dangling at the side of your right leg. Thankfully, she pulls your robe slightly more carefully, throwing the silky material in a corner of the bed. She palms your exposed breast with one hand while using two fingers from the other to rub fast, stern circles around your clit. Your legs shoot up at the overstimulation, but she loops her around them, essentially caging you on the spot.

Your back arches delightfully, feeling completely spellbound by this all consuming, sensual woman behind you.

“Abby-” Despite the overwhelming feeling, you can't help but beg for more, wanting to take her in every way possible and more.

“What was that, baby? Say it again.” She says in a strict tone that means you probably fucked up-she follows her warning with a sharp spank to your clit, making your legs jolt uncontrollably.

“Doctor, oh doctor, please-” Her fingers rub the sensitive flesh slower, in a more passionate rhythm, apologetic even. “I-I need” You gasp out.

“Use your words, baby.” Fuck, her mouth is next to yours, cheeks stuck together from the rising temperature of the room. You hear the squelching between your legs as you’re practically soaked, both from her spit and your arousal.

“Can you put your fingers-” Before you’ve even finished your sentence, her hand leaves your breasts and thrusts three fingers into your sopping hole, and you groan at the sudden intrusion. You start to easily relax into her though, trained from taking her strap with her slow, bruising hip thrusts. The fingers inside you brush against your sweet spot, and the ones on your clit rub it fast paced and intense. You feel tears gathering in your eyes from the heavenly feeling of Abby’s fingers, the way she always takes care of you so well.

Your orgasm hits you like a brick, and as you scream Abby’s name you can still hear her little encouragements in your ear, whispering come for me baby, you’re not gonna feel achey anymore- and kisses the shell of your ear as she feels you coming down to reality again.

“Holy shit, baby” You reach to wrap her arms around your waist, leaving small kisses on her cheek. “Saw the pearly gates for a second” You giggle and shift to straddle her, realizing you’re completely naked and she’s still dressed.

“Can I help you undress you too, doc?” She couldn’t help but smile at the title. She was extremely proud of her work, and even prouder that she found someone like you to return home to every night.

“Hm, kinda tired baby. Your doctor needs her rest.” She leans back to lay down on the bed, taking you with her. “Get some sleep as well. We can fuck in the morning, if you like.”

“Mhhm” You agree, moving to undress her from her clothes so she lays in nothing but her boxers. She complies and helps you so you get the job done faster. You then move to burry your face in her neck, sucking on it softly.

“I’ll help you too when you wake up, Dr Anderson.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2

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strangesthirdeye · 1 year

Text

FOREVER { Sherlock Holmes (BBC) }

warning: there are some sad scenes and mention of murder and major character death ..

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x dead! Reader Wife

forgive me if there is any grammatical mistake or confusing storyline.. after all, I transferred this fanfic from my Wattpad account so this is more or less my old work.. like this fanfic I made it a long time ago.. maybe in 2020 or 2021....welp- hope you enjoy read this fanfic 🤌

"Love, Did I ever tell you how I met John?." said Sherlock as he stroked your hair gently.

Sherlock goes on to tell the story of how he met John to his wife. He sat up quietly with the love of his life in the living room of 221B. He continued to tell the story where him and John started solving some cases around London until Sherlock met you and got married.

Meanwhile, Mycroft who had been watching CCTV footage of 221B began to look at John who had just walked into his office and sat in the chair opposite Mycroft.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Watson. How are you today?" Mycroft asked looking back at the CCTV footage in his laptop.

"yeah, I'm fine." replied John.

Mycroft looked at John before sighing and turning his laptop towards John. John immediately saw the CCTV footage in Mycroft's laptop while frowning.

"How long has he been like this? and why do you have 221B CCTV footage?" John asked before looking at Mycroft with a raised eyebrow.

Of course John knows that Sherlock is married to you and he is the best man for your wedding day. Even though John knows why Sherlock is like that. in fact, he still considers Sherlock as his best friend and also considers you as his little sister.

Mycroft sighed sadly before looking at the CCTV footage. Yes, even though Mycroft is considered an ice man and has never shown any emotion towards others, he is still worried about his younger brother’s life.

"You know what happened to my sister -in -law 3 months ago, don't you?" Mycroft asked looking at John with a sad expression.

Although Mycroft never treats others kindly but with you, Mycroft treats you like his own sister. That's why Mycroft is now with his sad face after-

"Of course I know, but how long has he been like this?" John asked again in a sad tone.

"He's been like this after a month of Y/n's death. He's so mad after knowing that Y/n is dead and every time Lestrade or I tell him that ... Y/n is dead ... He'll be angry with us and start attacking us or will kick us out of the flat. There were times he didn’t talk to us for a few weeks and there were also times he would talk alone as if he was talking to Y/n. Listen, Dr. Watson. You need to help him. You are the person he will hear words other than Y/n herself. Please Dr. Watson at least talk to him or visit him at the flat. I know you're married but please Dr. Watson ... he won't hear a word from me, not even with Lestrade. after all, Mrs. Hudson has done all sorts of things. And I don't want to bother Mrs. Hudson again."said Mycroft looking at John with a sad face.

Just after your death 3 months ago .. Sherlock seems to start imagining where you will always sit with him no matter in the living room, bedroom or kitchen he will always imagine you by his side and always talk alone.

John was pensive for a moment before recalling the memories of him, Sherlock and you when solving a case in the past for a moment. John looked at Mycroft with a glazed face.

~~~~~~~

John got out of the cab and paid the money to the cabbie before walking towards his old flat.

221B

The address of the house looks rusty when it has not been repaint for a long time maybe Mrs. Hudson was too lazy to call a painter to repaint the address. All the memories that happened in the flat began to return to John's mind.

John sighed sadly before taking a deep breath and starting to knock on the door of the flat. The flat door began to be opened by Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson looked at John with a sad expression on her face before inviting John into the flat.

"oh John, how are you today? You haven't been to this flat in a long time. Did Mary know you were coming here?"asked Mrs. Hudson to John in a soft tone before gently patting John's back.

"uh yeah, I'm fine today. Just busy with Mary's things, you know she's pregnant that's why I rarely visit you and ... Sherlock lately." John replied looking at the floor because he couldn't look at Mrs. Hudson. he felt very guilty for not visiting his landlady and his best friend all this time. There must have been a lot going on in this flat after he moved out of the flat to start a household with Mary.

Mrs. Hudson nodded understandingly. of course she understood John's case. Husband and wife life is not easy at all. In addition to Mary's condition, she is now pregnant.

"umm .. what about Sherlock? is he ok?" John asked Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson looked at John sadly before pulling her handkerchief out of her pocket and starting to cry a little.

"Since Y/n died, Sherlock has gotten worse day by day. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep. He just sits on the sofa or his chair and always talks to himself." cried Mrs. Hudson let out a sniff into her handkerchief.

John looked at the floor. He can no longer imagine Sherlock's condition as Mrs. Hudson said, he doesn’t eat and drink and of course he doesn’t sleep. If this is happened again ... most likely Sherlock will lose his mind later.

John began to look up the stairs that would lead upstairs. With a heavy sigh, John reasoned to Mrs. Hudson to go upstairs which is Mrs. Hudson just nodded her head before walking back into her own flat.

~~~~~~~

"I still can't believe I'm married to you until now. The day you became mine." said Sherlock as he gently kissed your hair and stroked your hair.

But, it only happened in Sherlock's mind. A place where for Sherlock, you are still alive and beautiful. The place where Sherlock keeps all the memories of you no matter how you talk, walk or do anything. Everything is a perfect memory of you in Sherlock's mind. But the reality is Sherlock is actually sitting on his leather chair stroking, kissing softly and mumbling to the skull (skull from A Study in Pink) as if he is hugging you and talking to you in that expensive inner voice.

John, who had stopped and was still standing in front of the wide open flat door, looked at Sherlock with a sad face and pity for Sherlock's condition, wearing only a blue bathrobe, gray t -shirt, gray pants and a little frizzy hair (like the one Sherlock wore during The Great Game). Honestly, John still can't believe what Mycroft told him earlier that Sherlock's condition is getting worse day by day. And Mycroft had to put CCTV cameras in every corner of the flat to make sure Sherlock wasn’t doing things out of control.

Apparently, that's exactly what Mycroft said earlier. And hopefully, John can talk to Sherlock so that Sherlock returns to his original self and just accept your death even with the reluctance to accept such news even though it has been 3 months since your death.

John sighed before knocking on the door of the flat to attract the attention of Sherlock who had been rubbing and mumbling into the skull. Sherlock immediately looked towards the door before smiling and standing. Hugging the skull tightly to his chest and walking towards John with a wide smile.

oh, if only that smile could last a long time.

"ah, John hi!. long time no see. how are you with Mary now? I presume Mary will soon give birth to your first child isn't it? isn't that excited. come in, let me make tea for you. after all Y/n haven't seen you for a long time right?. " greeted Sherlock as he gently patted his good friend's shoulder before walking over placing the skull on his leather chair and walking into the kitchen section to make tea.

John just smiled sadly at Sherlock before walking into the flat and sitting on his old chair. yeah, he hasn't set foot in the flat for months so he's a little awkward with the current situation even though he's lived in this flat for a few years before moving out with Mary.

John looked at the skull that Sherlock had placed on the leather chair in front of him. Although, you're gone, the flat still looks clean and tidy. Maybe Mrs. Hudson helped tidy up a bit of the flat or maybe Sherlock tidy up the flat himself.

"You good? Here's your tea." Sherlock asked John as he handed John a cup of tea.

Afterwards, he walked over and lifted the skull before he sat down in his leather chair with the skull held tightly by him. John sipped his tea slowly before placing the cup of tea on the table next to his chair and looked at Sherlock before sighing slowly.

"I .. yeah I'm fine .. Mary too. I .." John stopped before closing his eyes tightly and taking a deep breath. After that, he opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock..

"Listen, Mycroft called me to come to his office earlier, he wanted me to make sure you didn't do something out of control .. you know .. what happened before .." John explained reluctantly to continue his conversation with Sherlock.

Not because he's reluctant, he's just .. afraid of what will happen after he tells Sherlock that he needs to be himself again .. be Sherlock Holmes again .. The famous Consulting Detective .. and hopefully he can accept your death .

Sherlock raised an eyebrow with a confused expression. 'What happened before?'

"What do you mean by 'what happened before'? And Mycroft told you to come to make sure I don't do anything out of control? Please, I won't do anything out of control because Y/n is always with me .. why do I want to do things out of control while Y/n is always taking care of me. " Sherlock replied with a raised eyebrow. strange, with his good friend who suddenly said so.

John sighed tremblingly as he massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Look, you have to stop being like this. You have to be yourself again .. stop with all this .. this is not you anymore, Sherlock ... do you remember what happened to Y/n 3 months ago? .. Y /n Holmes the love of your heart, Sherlock Holmes's beloved wife is already ... dead. " stop John trying to fight himself from crying.

Sherlock looked at John with widened eyes while hugging the skull tightly to his chest.

No.

It's not possible .. if you're dead, how can you be by his side every day unless- only his mind can still imagine you again.

Sherlock looked at John with an angry look on his face before standing up, hugging the skull tightly to his chest and looking at John with watery eyes.

"You're lying, if Y/n is dead. How can she be with me every day? How can she talk to me every day, how can I hug her and kiss her every day?" Sherlock protested with tears already falling down his cheeks. He can't accept the news of your death anymore. He just wants to be with you ... forever.

John shook his head and stood up and held Sherlock's shoulders tightly. With such a sad face, John opened his mouth reluctantly.

"It's just your imagination, Sherlock. It's your mind that makes you able to see her. Your wife. Why? Because you love her so much and you have a lot of memories about her. It's all about her. It doesn't matter what. everything about her is still in your mind .. still in your mind palace. That's why you imagine her will always be by your side. because you don't want to let her go ... you don't want to accept her death because you can't do anything without her, right? hmm? because you were afraid at first that you wouldn't be able to live without her .. you're afraid of being alone right? "said John unaware that tears were starting to fall down his cheeks.

Sherlock began to sob as he hugged the skull tightly as if he was hugging you and crying on your shoulder like a little boy crying on his mother's shoulder. John began to take the skull from Sherlock's hand slowly and placed the skull on the table next to Sherlock's leather chair.

John tentatively raises his arms, perhaps hesitating momentarily for fear of being rejected, then slowly puts his left hand onto Sherlock’s arm and his right hand onto his back before sliding it upwards to gently cradle his neck. He moves closer, sliding his left arm up to hold Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock put his head on John's shoulder with still sobbing and trembling cries. John began to rub Sherlock's back gently as if a father were coaxing his son just after his son fell from a bicycle.

"It’s okay." Said John softly to Sherlock.

"It’s not okay." Sherlock replied tearfully still trembling with his cries.

"No, don't say that. I know ... you miss Y/n..but I'm sure she's in a good place .. I'm sure she's happy to see you right now .. I'm sure she's happy after you accept that she's gone .. I know .. Sherlock .. I know .. "John whispered softly to Sherlock trying to stop himself from crying again.

"I miss her, John ..." Sherlock said sobbing.

John rubbed Sherlock's back again and again.

"I know, everyone misses her .. even Mycroft misses her too .." John said in a soft tone.

Sherlock Holmes, The Consulting Detective who is now crying on the shoulder of his good friend after John Watson told Sherlock that he needs to accept the fate where his beloved wife, his sunshine, the love of his heart, Y/n Holmes has passed away for being brutally murdered by a man in a gray wetswood suit. The last day where Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson is with you.

Perhaps, it's Moriarty but if not, then who?

#bbc sherlock x reader #benedict cumberbatch x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock reader insert

115 notes · View notes

wandabear · 2 years

Photo

COME UNDONE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER

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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f! reader / Natasha Romanoff x OC

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 & 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10 finale

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Jules outfit here: link

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ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤCHAPTER 6

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Y/N closed her eyes and sighed deeply before leaving that damn room. She walked down the long corridor of the hospital taking off the stethoscope on her neck, barely ten hours passed and it wasn't much, of course it wasn't much for her, but even so she felt that her feet were heavy and her neck so tense. After giving a short explanation about the condition of one of the patients to his relatives, Y/N went to the reception to sign some papers.

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“How's everything, Nancy?” Greeted with an cute smile, noticing how the nurse smiled at her too. “You look happy, and accompanied by a delicious box of donuts I see. Who’s trying to win you over? Come on, tell me.” Y/N winked at her.

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The woman giggled and shook her head, opening the box for Y/N to take one of the donuts. Somewhat doubtful, the brunette ended up accepting one, taking a bite.

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“Oh, perfectly, honey. You know, busy day.” Nancy held out a folder for the brunette to sign. “What sector did you get today?”

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“Pediatrics.” Y/N said licking her lips after taking another bite of the glazed donut. The truth was that she was busy but happy. She signed those papers and handed them back to the nurse. “I'm considering it, although cardiology is also interesting...”

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“Nice but both a bit complicated. Here's this one too, and…” She gave her the new list of patients. “Before this, someone’s waiting for you in the waiting room.” Nancy smiled mischievously, pointing to the spot.

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Y/N arched an eyebrow and walked into the waiting room just to see a redhead sitting there, checking her messages while she waited. The brunette shook her head but inside, deep inside, she was glad to see that Wanda didn't seem to give up. Whenever she could, Wanda would show up at her workplace to bring lunch or dinner. She sent beautiful and meaning flowers to her house, always with little romantic notes and songs.

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Y/N allowed herself to watch how beautiful the woman looked that day, in a huge scarlet colored jacket that perfectly matched her wavy hair today. The red in her was exquisite.

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“Miss Maximoff, I didn’t expect to see you here today. Anything you need to see a doctor for? Are you hurt?” The brunette said with a rather serious tone but she was clearly playing, noticing how the sokovian quickly raised her head.

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“Hi.” Wanda smirked and approached with a dreamy look, everything seemed to be far away when Y/N was near. “No, I just came to get Dr Y/L/N something.”

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“You don't give up, do you?” Y/N arched an eyebrow, but then looked at the bag. She knew that move perfectly. “I have to say, I don't have time to rest and I doubt I can do it to have lunch together this time, I've only been here for 10 hours and...”

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“Oh, don't worry, I just came to get you this. I have to get to work too so I dropped by to give you your lunch or dinner.” Wanda assured, handing her the bag with the lunch box inside.

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Y/N snooped as the two walked together toward the main room. “What is it?”

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“This time I tried something healthier.” Wanda wrinkled her nose tenderly. “And I bribed Nancy with delicious donuts to tell me when you were coming out.”

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“That woman will be my downfall.” Y/N smiled mischievously. Taking Wanda by the arm, she led her to a more uninhabited area so they could talk in peace. And of course, sniffing out what Wanda had brought that day.

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“Oh my…” The brunette smiled. “Do you have any idea how delicious this looks?”

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“Wow, finally a nice reaction. Kids always says 'ugh' when they see my grilled chicken with salad.” The Sokovian shrugged and she couldn't help but blush a little. She felt like a lovesick teenager trying to win over her first love through small displays of affection.

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“Oh, don’t worry. That's a kid thing. I used to have the same reaction.” Y/N smiled fondly as she put the lunch box back in the bag. “Until I got older and began to appreciate how delicious grilled chicken and salad tasted. Especially when you don't want to cook.”

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“I could do it more often if you'd let me.” Wanda bit her lower lip, Y/N wrinkled her nose and leaned down to whisper:

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“Don't push your luck.”

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That made Wanda's smile increase, she felt that she had taken another step to get what she wanted so much. That beautiful heart that she loved so much in the past. Those huge green eyes appreciated how pretty Y/N looked in that white lab coat, stethoscope, and her brunette ponytail hair. The dark circles were beginning to disappear, showing that at least she was beginning to sleep better.

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“How's your day going?” Wanda tilted her head.

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“Tiring, it's my first ten hours and it's the first time I can free myself and rest, before I go back to take my shift.” She sighed. “Today I have pediatrics and I quite like it, although its somewhat painful at times.”

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The sokovian smiled tenderly, narrowing her eyes at her. “You really like children.”

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“Hearts too.” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow which made Wanda stammer a bit.

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“Women's hearts I guess?”

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“All kinds.” She kept her face neutral, trying not to laugh as Wanda opened her mouth to say something to it but nothing came out, as if she were a fish out of water. “Oh my god, if you could see your face now, Wanda! I mean cardiology, being a cardiologist.”

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“Oh! Oh I just-” She laughed alongside Y/N, shaking her head. A slight blush made her look even more beautiful. “Whatever you choose, I know you'll handle it just fine. You will be the best at it. You know that you will have the support of the people who loves you, we will. Decide what makes you happy.”

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“Thank you, Wanda. Really kind words.” Y/N nodded and winked at her. “How are the twins?”

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“Very well, they are with their father.” Said Wanda leaning against the wall, for a moment she fixed her gaze on her rings. “We're deciding with whom they will spend the Christmas holidays. I think Christmas with me and New Years with him... for all the time he hasn't had them.”

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They both talked for a few minutes until the brunette noticed how her last name was requested on the hospital speakers.

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"Dr. Y/L/N, you are needed in Ward 7 East."

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“I have to leave.” Y/N winced, apologizing for the lack of time.

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“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Wanda nodded quickly.

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“Thank you, Wanda.” Y/N gave her a friendly smile. Sincere and honest enough.

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“No problem. Everything for a pretty girl like you.”

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Y/N shook her head but smiled, making Wanda's heart beat faster. The fangs that showed when Y/N smiled were charming and adorable. She felt good, it felt wonderful to be able to get closer again. This thing of making Y/N fall in love with small gestures of hers made her relive endless new sensations.

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"I'll let you through just because you brought me food." She said before starting to walk back to the WARD 7 when Wanda caught her attention again.

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“Y/N?”

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“Yeah?”

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“Saturday is Nat's birthday, and…” Wanda walked with her to the main hall. “Well I asked what she wanted to do and she said dinner was fine…”

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Y/N nodded.

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“We will all have dinner at her house, just the closest friends. She doesn't want a big party, just a nice dinner.” The Sokovian wrinkled her nose at her. “Don’t worry, she's not going to cook it, I will.”

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“Thank to the gods.” They both giggled.

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“I just wanted you to know anyway. In case you see me there.”

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“Of course I'll see you, Wanda. Nat is my friend too.”

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“Of course I know. Exactly.” Wanda giggled nervously and just kept her hands in her pockets, taking a few steps back. “I have to go. Have a nice day, pretty.”

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“See you later, Maximoff.”

A few hours later, the other redhead was walking around her home in a hurry, taking the dirty clothes to the washing machine. With so much work Natasha hardly had time to enjoy the weekend and Yelena always brought her damn dirty clothes on the weekends.

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“So, are you coming or what?” Natasha asked as she held the phone and at the same time emptied the can of clothes into the washing machine. On the other side of her was one of her closest friends, listening to her talk about the latest case and why her life was so boring.

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“Mh… I don't know, I have to think about it.” The brunette made a somewhat thoughtful face but the face of Natasha Romanoff through the video call said it all.

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“Y/N, if you don't come to my stupid birthday dinner, I swear to god I'm going to-” Natasha started to growl, but Y/N's laugh only made her eyes roll. “Asshole! Stop teasing me!”

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“Jeez... Of course I'll be there! I was just kidding, Romanoff.” Y/N exclaimed, seemed to be on her break shift and eating what Wanda cooked for her. “How grumpy you are.”

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“I have the right to be if my friend jokes about not coming to my birthday, jackass. The first one we will all be together again!” She finished pressing some buttons on the stupid washing machine and turned away from it, walking towards the living room. “What are you eating? I didn't know you were cooking before work now. Of course not, you’re too lazy… WANDA COOKED THAT, RIGHT?”

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“Yeah… it’s…” Y/N decided not to answer and just bit into a huge piece of chicken breast.

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"She's feeding you well."

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“Shut up, Tasha. About Saturday… Don't worry, I'll be there.” Y/N assured her the moment the door opened. A beautiful girl with black hair and wavy hair appeared in the room. Jules came in trying not to make any noise, she seemed quite tired, but when she approached Y/N to see who she was talking to, Jules sighed in love and placed her hand on her heart, mocking Y/N. Instantly, Y/N's brain lit up with a wonderful idea. “Wait... Nat, can I bring someone?”

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Natasha frowned. “Who?”

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“What does that matter, chismosa?” Y/N looked at Jules, who seemed confused as Natasha. “Can I or what?”

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“Bucky will come with Steve and Sam, Wanda is coming with the twins but her father will pick them up after dinner, and Yelena will come with Kate, so yes, yes you can.” Nat said smoothly, although she seemed rather curious as to who her date would be.

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They both talked for a few more minutes until they both hung up the call. When Y/N barely ended that call, Jules sighed exaggeratedly.

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“It was her? It was her, I know.” Jules bit her bottom lip and plopped down on one of the couches. “Oh, her voice is so… oof!”

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“Do you want to stop fantasizing about my best friend?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, noticing how Jules smiled widely.

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“I thought her sister was your best friend.”

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“Both are.” Y/N tilted her head to look at Jules. “You're crushing so hard on Natasha but you never do anything.”

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“I know.” The woman nodded and shrugged. “But she's impossible. She’s one of those girls that you see from afar and say: she’s so fucking beautiful, but not for me.”

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Jules winced.

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“I just don't want you to get hurt, Jules. I know how that ends. It ends with you fangirling and falling in love with a woman a few years older, redheaded, from Eastern Europe, beautiful, who ends up breaking your heart into a thousand pieces. And you end up saying: oh no, what have I done?!” Y/N said dramatically.

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“I'm not going to get hurt, Y/N. I don't even know her… And I'm a chicken so I never will.” She rolled her eyes, but Y/N's silence caught her attention. “Wait, you said you were taking someone somewhere and then you looked at me. Straight into the eyes…in a very weird way.”

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The brunette was quiet, just looked at her trying not to smile.

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“Y/N.” Jules insisted. “Oh God. Where are we going?”

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ㅤㅤㅤSATURDAY

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“Happy Birthday, Auntie Nat!” shouted happily the twins alongside their mother when Natasha finally opened the door. The little ones jumped on her aunt to hug her tight, making both redheads laugh. Wanda walked into the Romanoff home and hugged her friend, wishing her a very happy birthday too. Natasha helped her friend bring in the trays of sandwiches and the amazing cake that Wanda lovingly baked.

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“You know I love you, right? Your delicious food will save my dinner.” Natasha kissed her best friend's cheek. As the two chatted, the little ones ran to play with Fanny, the sisters' adorable dog. Fanny was a bit old, so she loved sleeping with the boys while they watched TV.

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“Hello to my favorite rascals!” That hoarse voice and a thick accent. Yelena hugged Billy and Tommy who seemed very happy to see her. Whenever they visited Natasha, Yelena always invite them to hang out with her and play some video games. Even watch some cartoons like 'Avatar: the Last Airbender'. But when the blonde looked up at Wanda with those piercing eyes, almost frozen and cold like Lake Baikal, Yelena just nodded at Wanda saying ‘hi’ and walked away, ignoring her.

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“I’m sorry.” Natasha apologized with a grimace as they both walked into the kitchen.

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“It’s okay, I get that she's still mad at me. For Yelena it’s as recent as it is for me.” Wanda nodded.

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“So…” Nat looked up as she grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring one for her best friend. “Aren't you going to tell me anything?”

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“About what?”

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“You know very well about what, Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha rolled her eyes, noticing how Wanda tried to escape the subject but it was impossible. They both sat at the kitchen counter. “I saw her eat HOMEMADE food at the hospital, she hasn't done that in six years.”

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She was caught. Wanda smiled.

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“I've been taking some food to her work, I think that woman should eat better, nothing more." Wanda shrugged.

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“Come on, Wan.”

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The sokovian sighed in defeat. “I did something wrong, Nat. I hurt her a lot and I know it, believe me I know it. Everyone tells me, and if it's not with words, it's with cold looks of 'fuck you'.”

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“You know that Yelena does it because she’s hurt, but she loves you so much. She always loved you like another sister.”

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“I know. I miss that, I miss my little sister. I know I deserve it, but I just want to do it right this time.”

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“I don't want you both to end up hurt again, Wan.” Natasha took some chips. “Both are my friends, I love you two, but I don't want to see anyone hurt again. I've spent six years listening to Y/N, but I don't want to spend any more time watching you suffer. Not her because you want to choose Vis again.”

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“I don't want Vis.” Wanda repeated before drinking some wine. “I know what I did, and I know what I want.” Wanda looked down, taking the tray of small mini pizzas out of the oven and setting it on the table. “I'm not going to deny it, I want her again. I want to be with her. I want to do things right, but I can't rush it.”

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“So… you think winning her over with food is a good idea. Giving honey to the big bear.” Natasha teased, making Wanda laugh.

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“Kinda.” The redhead just sighed and she put on her apron to start cooking. “I also sent her flowers, and I was thinking of inviting her on a nice date.”

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“Can I ask you something?” Natasha leaned across the kitchen counter to whisper. “Is she THAT good?”

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They both giggled, the Sokovian wrinkling her nose was something really cute to see. Wanda leaned over to whisper, like a secret:

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“She’s amazing. Since I divorced Vision, even long before, I hadn't felt that way. You know… wanted. Desired. Needed. Adored in an very young and intense way but also... in some kind of adorable way. Romantic. She was really amazing.”

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The Russian sipped some of her wine and noticed that Wanda looked a little different in her outfit that night. She usually wore sport hoodies and leggings or shirts and pants for work, but this time she was wearing a pretty white dress with colorful flower details on it. Wearing makeup, Wanda looked really stunnig. “You look stunning tonight, sis, and I don't think it's because of me.”

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The Sokovian bit her lower lip. “Do you think she will like it?”

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The doorbell rang again, there were only a few so the Widow assumed that it was Bucky.

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“Yelena, come on!” Natasha said out loud as she sat down on the kitchen counter again. “Go open the door!”

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After a few seconds, footsteps were heard in the hallway, a somewhat grumpy blonde passed through the kitchen.

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“I’m coming!” The younger sister complained. “I'm not your servant, you know? I could be in my room on campus studying, but no, I'm here.”

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“Cause It's my birthday, you idiot!”

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“Cyka.”

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Natasha grabbed one of the kitchen towels and tossed it to her sister, who moved away quickly. The first to arrive was Bucky and his friends, Sam and Steve, who were a few years older than Bucky although now they were the same age. Bucky met both in the Police Academy they were just boys then.

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“Happy birthday to the best partner in stopping-crime, ever!” Bucky smiled, holding out her gift to the redhead who ended up hugging him tightly. With some good music, some beers and dinner in the oven, everyone shared some nice chats and laughs with each other while waiting for the rest to arrive.

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The 1967 Black Camaro parked outside that home, Y/N noticed that Bucky's car and Kate's were parked up ahead so she knew who would be inside and made her sigh in relief. She didn't want to face everything alone. Both women got out of the car, but not before carrying some presents for Natasha.

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“How do I look? do I look good?” Jules asked a little nervously. She was wearing a black top and blue jeans that fit her waist perfectly. “I want to look pretty.”

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“You're pretty, you fool.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she walked to the door. “Maybe a bit naive.”

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“That's because I'm adorable.”

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“Good thing you left your Sailor Moon hoodie at home.” She taller brunette teased her friend before ringing the bell.

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“Hey, I love my Sailor Moon hoodies. Not all of us want to wear grumpy leather jackets. The only place you wear white is the hospital, then it’s all black black black. Look at you, you look like Grim Reaper from Billy & Mandy.” Jules glanced at the taller woman who was wearing a black shirt, typical of her, and jeans of the same color.

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Y/N just wrinkled her nose and rang the doorbell of the house again , waiting a few seconds, Natasha's figure was present to open the door for her.

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“Happy Birthday!” Y/N yelled and hugged Nat when she started laughing happily. Once she broke away from her and kissed Natasha's cheek, Y/N handed over her gift with a huge smile. "Just another year, nothing else. You're not getting older... yet."

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“Thanks, Y/N/N. I hope it's not those nunchakus you said so much you'd give me.” Nat just teased and shook her head, but after that moment, her gaze fell on the woman next to Y/N, who looked somewhat flushed and adorable. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I’m Natasha.”

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“I'm Jules, I'm Y/N's co-worker.” The girl smiled widely and pointed to the brunette next to her. Jules handed the gift to the redhead, who took it somewhat surprised. “Happy Birthday. I hope you like it.”

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“Oh, you didn't have to, but... thanks.” Nat swallowed, somewhat confused and also moved by the gesture. “Wait, do we know each other…?” The two stared at each other for a moment until Y/N cleared her throat, pointing around the room.

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“Yeah, I am going there, where people pay attention to me, excuse me, oh hello!”

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Y/N walked into the living room so she could greet everyone. Even Kate and Yelena who were hanging out with the twins, playing Mario Kart. The atmosphere was quite nice, the brunette went to the kitchen to have a beer when she found a certain redhead taking some mini pizzas out of the oven.

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“Hey, Wanda.” Y/N said, taking two bottles of beer out of the fridge.

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“Hi, Y/N.” A huge smile spread across Wanda's face. She leaned in so she could place a small kiss on Y/N's cheek, surprising her. “You look amazing.”

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“Thanks, you look gorgeous too. I like your dress.” Y/N smiled pleasantly, leaning down to grab one of the mini pizzas. She took a bite, smiling mischievously when Wanda gave her a scolding look.

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“You shouldn’t do that.”

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“You're not going to rat me out.” Y/N arched an eyebrow.

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“Evil being.” The redhead bit her lower lip, but then she saw both beers in Y/N's hands. “Oh, I can't drink another one for a while. The kids are with Yelena and Kate, then I have to drive home tonight.”

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Y/N furrowed her brow a bit confused, until she realized it. “Oh no. I’m sorry. This is for Jules.”

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She wrinkled her nose, walking out of the kitchen to be watched by a completely confused redhead. Who the hell was Jules?

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The night had gone quite well and everyone seemed to have fun, although Wanda didn’t seem very happy with that new guest who didm’t seem to detach herself from Y/N.

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Vision picked up the twins after 9 pm, so now the atmosphere was much more comfortable for everyone to speak freely. The redhead tried to hide her annoyance although every time that girl named 'Jules' said something, her jealousy seemed to increase.

Wanda ended up taking refuge in the kitchen, cleaning and washing some stuff she used.

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Why did she feel like this? She had no right, of course. But Y/N's nerve to show up with a date, a girl no one knew, to her best friend's birthday. The helplessness in her grew more and more.

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“Fuck.” She muttered as a dish fell from her hands. Feeling the helplessness suffocate her, the urge to cry and scream from stupid jealousy that she couldn't even understand. And she knew that karma was hitting her where it hurt the most, for everything she did to Y/N. Because everything she felt now, Y/N had felt multiplied.

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And maybe it didn't help that the person she most wanted to see but not like that, came into the kitchen to leave some empty trays.

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“Hey, Wanda. Everything's okay?” Y/N asked noticing that she hadn't even looked up to see her.

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“Everything's fine.” Wanda answered in such a low voice, that alarmed the brunette a little more. Despite the fact that she tried to appear distant from her, Wanda had spent weeks trying to get close to her and that behavior wasn’t very common in the sokovian.

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“You don't look fine.”

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“Did I ask you that, Y/N?” Wanda snapped, finally looking up to see the brunette. “Why don't you go with your girlfriend who everyone adores and leave me alone?”

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“What the hell is going on with you, Wanda?” Y/N shook her head and stormed out of the kitchen, hoping no one would notice.

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And although Wanda wanted to go after Y/N and tell her that she was sorry, she had already done it many times. Even if she wanted to apologize to Y/N for her attitude, the sokovian preferred to remain silent and not make a scandal at her best friend's birthday. Feeling completely useless, unable to get close to the brunette who seemed to be getting further and further away from her. Every attempt was useless. The romantic attempts to win her back wasn't worth it, because Y/N was never going to forgive her.

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Wanda shook her head, trying to focus on anything else in the kitchen other than her. It was somewhat impossible, since a few minutes later, maybe the person she least wanted to see now entered the kitchen, somewhat shyly.

Jules walked in carrying two empty beer bottles ready to dump.

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“Hi…” Her voice made Wanda clench her jaw. She was beautiful, her voice was kinda deep, with an accent that she couldn't define. And made Wanda's job so harsh, because hating her…it was so difficult when Jules seemed to be such a kind and nice girl. Beautiful, sure. Her skin was pale, almost like Wanda's.

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“Hey.” Wanda said barely, watching Jules out of the corner of her eye. Seemed to be a cheerful and quite adorable girl, she would probably like her if she wasn't attached to Y/N like a fly to honey.

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“We're about to start some karaoke.” Jules came over spend some time with her, she hadn't had a chance to talk to Wanda since they arrived. Of course they were all very nice but Wanda had been very quiet the whole time.

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Far from seeing the redhead's discontent, Jules approached with a smile to help her carry some mini-pizzas and snacks to the living room.

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“Everything is so delicious, Wanda. I think it had been a long time since I've eaten this way. Loved all those little sandwiches and mini-pizzas, ugh. Delicious.”

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“It wasn't too bad, it's just sandwiches.” admitted the redhead, wrinkling her nose. It was definitely nothing compared to what she could cook.

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“Did you cook everything yourself?” She tried to get some conversation out of Wanda, although it seems like a difficult task.

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“Yes, Natasha is not very close to the kitchen.”

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“Then thank you. Everything was… really good.”

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“You already said that.” Wanda exhaled a little exasperated and looked up, placing both hands on the kitchen counter. Her emerald eyes collided with the dreamy eyes of the woman in front of her.

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“Am I... bothering you, Wanda?”

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"Can I ask you something, Jules?"

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“Sure.”

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“What are your intentions with Y/N?” The Sokovian tilted her head. “I mean, you came together and you both work together at the hospital…”

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Jules frowned at her. “I don't understand…”

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Pressing her lips together, Wanda wondered how to start this talk without coming across as rude or threatening. She was jealous,of course she had no problem admitting it, but she didn't want to make a fuss. Although the thought that Y/N could be with someone else hurt her a lot, she had no rights.

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“Y/N’s a wonderful woman, you know? And a long time ago, just before the Snap, I hurt her a lot.” Wanda bit her upper lip for a moment, trying to find the right words with which to express herself. “And I'm so sorry about that, but I want you to know that I have feelings for her and I don't plan on letting her go. I'm not going to lose her again, and although you look like a very beautiful and adorable girl, I must tell you that I will fight…”

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“Wait, you mean…?” Jules hesitated whether to let out an amused giggle, because it clearly seemed like a joke, but Wanda's look seemed to be quite serious. “Wait, you're not kidding. Y/N and I…?”

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“I'm not trying to hurt you or anything like that, believe me, if Y/N decides she wants to be with you, I'll accept it. But until then… I will not stop fighting for her.”

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“Wanda, wait a minute.” Jules raised her voice to interrupt her, noticing the confused face of her redhead. “I would never interfere in your marriage.”

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Jules said that completely scared at the idea that Wanda received a different idea than what she really was. “Y/N and I are just co-workers, I swear. She teaches me many things that I don't know, and she’s training me... Well, she actually saves me from doing stupid things. I'm a rookie sometimes, I just get excited.”

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Wanda looked even more confused than she had before.

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“I don’t have friends.” Jules swallowed hard. “I’m a lonely person, I have social anxiety. Actually being here is a big step forward…thanks to Y/N. I came here from Boston not long ago, she also told me that she wasn't from here when she arrived, of course, and that helped me a lot. Y/N told me that I reminded her of herself when she was younger. Or something like that. Although I like to make fun of her because we are almost the same age, and also because I would never imagine her as anything other than a grumpy and annoying tall brunette. She’s just a good friend.”

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Jules hoped with all her heart that Wanda would believe her and not have a problem like that again.

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“I swear to you that there’s nothing between us, she’s a very private woman about personal stuff, and she never flirts with anyone in the hospital. She respects you a lot, she would never disrespect your marriage and…”

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“Wait. What?!” Wanda narrowed her eyes at her, confused. She heard everything and felt empathy for the woman, but the last thing was… really confusing to her. “Do you think Y/N and I are married?”

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“Yeah… why? Aren't you?” Jules now seemed even more confused than Wanda, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Nancy told me once that you were her wifey, that you had visited her... and you were her wife.”

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“Y/N never told you guys we're not married?”

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“No, she didn't say that.” Jules was somewhat shocked, she made a face with her lips. “That's why we all thought so.”

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The redhead blinked, surprised. “Wow.”

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“Did I just get in trouble? Did I just get her in trouble? She was going to propose you and I blew it? OH GOD, I'M REALLY A FOOL. SO STUPID.” Jules panicked.

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"No! Shh! Not at all, I'm just surprised…” Wanda broke the distance and placed one of her hands on Jules's shoulder. “Y/N and I are nothing, we had something but... it's complicated. That's why I'm surprised she didn't say anything.”

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“Maybe it doesn't bother her that others think so.” Jules shrugged. “Sometimes Security tend to prevent visits that don't have family ties, because of the whole Blip thing… that's why she hasn't said you're not. For you to go there and visit her.”

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“I thought I was just being a nuisance by going to visit her.”

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“Maybe she wants you to keep visiting her.” Jules widened her eyes, excited. Almost as if she wanted to fangirl, she grabbed a mini pizza and took a bite out of it.

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“Oh.” And so, a small flame of hope was reborn in Wanda Maximoff. “I think you have given me some good news after all. Thank you, Jules.”

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“You're welcome, happy to help.” She smiled widely. “Wait, did you really think I liked Y/N?”

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Completely embarrassed, Wanda nodded and apologized to her offering her another mini-pizza.

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“No way. She brought me because…” Jules made a face, somewhat hesitant to say it or not, but she ended up saying it knowing that Wanda shared something personal too. “I have this kind of… huge crush on Natasha. I saw her in the hospital once, I think one of her co-workers had been shot or something and…” She rolled her eyes. “Whenever I see her, I keep acting stupid, 'cause she makes me nervous but anyway, she never paid any attention to me.”

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“Do you like Nat?” Wanda's big green eyes widened. “Natasha? Romanoff? Grumpy russian redhead owner of this house?”

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Jules nodded.

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“Wow, this night keeps surprising me.”

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“Don't say anything, okay? I think she's close to Bucky and…” Jules shrugged. “I know I don't have a chance, I don't want to embarrass myself.”

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“Bucky and Nat are just partners, just strictly work and nothing else.” Wanda whispered to her like it was a secret. "And I'm her best friends, believe me.”

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“Do you think she'll ever accept a date?” Jules's eyes sparkled, finishing her mini pizza in one bite. “I hope she doesn’t mind that I'm doing my residency at the Hospital. I'm a few little years younger but maybe she won't mind. Do you think it bothers her? Does she like girls?”

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Wanda remained somewhat thoughtful, smiling with a certain tenderness at the flashback that passed through her eyes for a moment. Memories.

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“Oh. You really do look like her sometimes.” The sokovian said with a certain melancholy and a small smile. “Do you want some advice? Be yourself with Nat and you will have a positive answer.”

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“Amazing.” Jules smiled. “Oh, by the way, come on. We'll start karaoke and I want to hear those sokovian pipes.”

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Both left the kitchen chatting as if they were good friends.

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Wanda joined her friends, noticing that Y/N was in the bathroom, according to Kate. So when she saw her come back, hurried over to Y/N while the others kept busy looking for Kate's karaoke machine.

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“Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?” Wanda asked somewhat shyly, noticing the serious look of the brunette. Y/N was about to say no, but she knew it would be much worse. She nodded, completely defeated, they both went out into the garden for a moment. That same garden where six years ago, they ended everything in the worst possible way.

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“Y/N, I...” Wanda stood in front of Y/N, trying to find the right words. “I’m so sorry. I acted like an idiot again, I just…”

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The brunette didn't say anything, she just crossed her arms and waited for Wanda to finish her apology. Her gaze was still a serious one.

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“I thought you and Jules were something else. God, I hear myself and I reaffirm that I am such an idiot.” Wanda laughed sadly, and shook her head. “I was jealous of you, that you were dating her. She’s beautiful, have you seen her? She's really cute... and... she... She's a passionate talented girl, kind, nice, adorable, who loves her work and- ”

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Wanda looked down. “And it's all you deserve.”

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“And you thought I brought her as a date.”

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“Well, I didn't know who she was.” Wanda mumbled a bit nervous. “In my defense, Natasha thought the same thing.”

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Y/N sighed.

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“Wanda, you can't choose what I deserve.” Y/N looked around remembering that day. The same place. “You tried to do it once... here. I don't need you to decide what I deserve and what I don't.”

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Wanda didn't say anything, just kept her gaze on her rings. Y/N was right, she had no reason to be jealous. It wasn't hers, and she couldn't choose for her either.

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And although the brunette was still hurt, couldn't help but feel her heart sinking at the sad look of those green eyes that she once loved. Who was she going to lie to? She still loved them.

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“If you want a chance, you have to start with that.” Y/N pressed her lips together and placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder before heading back into the house. And for a moment, the redhead felt again that all those attempts had not been in vain.

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When both returned to the house, they found out that Kate connected that Karaoke machine and were raffling who would go first.

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The first to be elect was Yelena, who performed her 'best version' of Halsey's 'I am not a woman, I'm a god'. Everyone cheered and clapped as the blonde sang.

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Bucky got 'the Archer' by Taylor Swift, although he said it wasn't his kind of music, he ended up quite liking it and Kate assured that she would send him a Spotify playlist. Ensuring that he would love 'Folklore'.

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Y/N had her moment to sing 'Keep On Loving You' out loud, making everyone sing with her. Everyone had their fun time to sing, some had been gifted with a good voice while others laughed at how off key and ridiculous and random songs were.

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The next one was Wanda, who surprised everyone with a melodious voice. Natasha presumed to be the only one in the room to have heard her.

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“And the next one for Wanda 'the Scarlet Witch' Maximoff is…” Kate said like she was a TV host before pressing ‘OK’, watching the name of the song jumping on the screen. “Call it what you want! From my queen, Taylor Swift!”

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‘My castle crumbled overnight I brought a knife to a gunfight. They took the crown, but it's alright. All the liars are calling me one. Nobody's heard from me for months, I'm doing better than I ever was, 'cause…’ Wanda sang as she moved to the beat of the music, trying not to laugh at Natasha and Kate's cheering. Sam was moving and dancing smoothly in the sofa, everyone was just having a nice time. Even Yelena was telling her to go on, possibly the effects of alcohol.

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‘All my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm. She built a fire just to keep me warm. All the drama queens taking swings, all the jokers dressin' up as kings… They fade to nothing when I look at her.” And in that moment, her gaze connected with Y/N. An intimate moment, a declaration of love in front of everyone because nothing mattered to her, except that Y/N felt how important she was to her.

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“And I know I make the same mistakes every time. Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right.” ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ

“Sing as if you were in The VOICE of Sokovia!” Natasha yelled, making everyone to laugh.

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‘Shut up, you'll make me laugh and I should sing! … Uh… You know I did one thing right Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night.’

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‘My baby's fit like a daydream. Walking with her head down, I'm the one she's walking to. So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to…’

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Completely surprised, Y/N remained still in her seat, noticing how Wanda kept looking her straight in the eye as she sang. Natasha couldn't help but smile and shake her head, her friends encouraging the redhead to continue. Maybe the alcohol kicking on them, but they all seemed having a good time and that was making her happy.

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‘My baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene. Loves me like I'm brand new… so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to.’

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Y/N’s heart was beating so hard that she thought it would end up being heard over that song. Wanda dared to see her, to point at her, to flirt with her and dedicate the song to her. The redhead had no shame in showing it to her friends. Wanda just had fun singing, laughing and showing that she had nothing to hide. She wanted Y/N and she didn't care if the world knew it. Hell, she wanted the world to know.

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“So, I guess that’s the sokovian courtship display! the mating dance has been successful!” Yelena joked, making everyone laugh out loud again.

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“You’re jealous because she slayed that song and she’s now… 2 points to beat you.” Y/N defended Wanda seeing the score they had.

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“No one can beat Halsey!” Yelena threw a pillow directly at the brunette's face. Natasha laughed happily, feeling her gaze cloud over for a moment. Tears of happiness formed but she didn't allow herself to cry, she couldn't ruin the moment. The happiness she felt to have her whole family together again, to see them laugh and leave all her problems behind her for a while.

But she didn’t realize that someone there was watching her carefully, until she felt how that person touched her arm to get her attention, giving her a small tissue.

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“I'm glad you're having such a good time.” Jules confessed to her, leaving Natasha speechless. In a good way, sure. The next to sing was Nat, and everyone was waiting to know what song was going to play for her. That night everyone decided to have fun, laugh, and celebrate Natasha who seemed for the first time in six years, to recover what was lost.

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here goes some amazing and lovely people tags ✨ : @marvell-love - @ etheriaaly - @idcplss - @how-to-disappearrr - @simp4nat - @cristin-rjd - @ lonewalker17

Thanks to everyone who's reading me. And thanks to the people who leave a ❤️ , reposts and comments, you make me keep writing. I’m SO GLAD to have you all here.

I loved the idea of making Natasha Romanoff a bit happy. She deserves it. I must say that I am thinking about doing another fic (after this one, and the requests), an AU based on Elizabeth Olsen's 'Red Lights'. About some sokovian at College and the Professor Assistant OR maybe an AU with Airforce R and 60s / 70s Wanda. I don’t know yet! You can choose tho.

See you in the next! 🐻

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #natasha romanoff will be happy here #natasha romanoff x oc #natasha romanoff x female oc #natasha romanoff #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction

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