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lxkeee · 2 months

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART SEVEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Swearing and Adam.

Notes: shit is about to go down.

PART ONE | PART SIX | PART EIGHT | NAVIGATION

“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.

“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.

Adam nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Heyyy there [Y/n]... I didn't expect you to be hereee or rather, I didn't expect to see you today... Don't you have work...?” he says nervously, clearly not expecting the news would reach the Seven Heavenly Virtues this soon and [Y/n]'s eyes narrowed even more at him, her wings fluttering behind her back—puffed up and angry.

“Enough Adam, you've done enough pain and destruction here. Take the exorcists and your ass back hOME!” She sneered, her eyes looking at Adam with annoyance, “You and Sera will be held accountable for your actions and for your disobedience and if you don't want a severe punishment then I suggest you go home quietly and quickly. Do you understand?” she snapped, her voice filled with anger and authority. Reminding them who they're dealing with.

Adam avoided her gaze and eventually nodded, “I understood...” he muttered, opening a portal back to heaven with a snap of his fingers, “Exorcists! Fall back and return.” Adam ordered and flew past [Y/n], the exorcists following behind him.

The sinners just looked at the scene in awe, an angel ordering Adam to stop whatever the fuck he was doing and the man just complied without questions.

Lucifer's eyes never left her form, he never stopped looking at her in fear that the moment he blinks she will disappear once more. Like a dust in the wind.

[Y/n] sighed, her angelic form calming down once Adam and the exorcists left, the portal closing. She turned back to look down on the sinners. Her heart ached when her eyes finally landed on her husband. Her mind telling her to imagine it was Xavier but how can she? When Lucifer was missing Xavier's [e/c] eyes? That is not her son, that is Lucifer, her husband, ex-husband?? She doesn't know the status of their marriage and she's in too much in pain to care.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her fast beating heart, she can feel her body is weakening even more. She barely got any rest, she's also wounded and her healing powers took most of her energy. She just hoped she had enough to last to return back home and back to her son.

She slowly flies down to where the sinners are, to where Lucifer is.

She landed in front of them gracefully, well, a little wobbly.

The sinners and Lucifer looked at her with hesitation, nervous whether she was a new enemy or an ally.

“Greetings, I am Raphael from the Seven Heavenly Virtues.” She greeted, giving them a small bow, “On behalf of heaven and the seven heavenly virtues, we apologized for Sera's, Adam's, and the exorcists' behavior. This cleansing wasn't approved by the others and was done without the other's notice. We will make sure that they will be held accountable for their actions and disobedience. We never intended for sinners to suffer like this.” she says, her voice quivering before kneeling in front of them.

This is so embarrassing. [Y/n] thought to herself.

Their eyes widened in surprise to see an angel, a seraphim angel prostrate herself, her head on the ground as she asked for their forgiveness.

They were also surprised to know that this cleansing wasn't a decision made by the entirety of heaven but just a few people.

Charlie waved her hands, trying to get the woman to stop kneeling, “Um... Please raise your head...” Charlie says nervously.

Lucifer was speechless, how could he not? His first wife that he didn't see for so many millennia is here. His eyes caught sight of a golden wedding ring on her ring finger—the very wedding ring he slipped into her finger when they got married, he could never forget it. She still wore it after all these years, after all the things he has done to her and their family. She waited for him...

[Y/n] raises her head, her eyes tired and... Lucifer doesn't remember her eyes to be this... Sad. His heart broke into pieces. He's done this, he caused her so much pain and it changed her. Those aren't the eyes of the [Y/n] he fell in love with, [Y/n]'s eyes were so bright and hopeful before and now... It doesn't even look like it can see herself living tomorrow. It doesn't even look like she has gotten enough sleep judging by the heavy bags underneath her eyes and the dark circles around her eyes.

[Y/n] avoided Lucifer's gaze, she felt so small and weak underneath his eyes. Even after all these years he still had this much effect on her.

[Y/n] tried to focus on whatever the girl said, her ears were slightly ringing and her eyes were slightly blurring. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before slowly standing up, wobbling slightly.

Everyone noticed it, something is definitely wrong with her and it made them worry. They can notice how pale she looked and she seems to wince slightly whenever she moves.

“Are... Are you okay...?” Charlie asked worriedly, helping her up and [Y/n] smiled, though it never reached her eyes. The girl looked just exactly like Lucifer, this must be his daughter then?

“I'm just a little tired, don't worry about me.” She says weakly, patting the girl's head.

“I think I would be leaving now, we'll make sure to punish both Adam and Sera for their actions and we'll try to help hell find a better way to deal with its growing population.” She says, gently parting away from the girl's hold. Her body felt heavy and so incredibly exhausted. This is bad, she needs to get home soon.

She stumbled slightly, Lucifer's eyes widened and his body moved without thinking and caught her effortlessly, her head pressed against his chest, [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her eyes starting to prick, no don't cry, don't cry... He felt so warm and so soft, she missed this. She weakly tries to push him away. She can still smell his signature perfume of vanilla and roses from his suit. The scent calmed her down slightly.

“Lucifer... Please don't... Please don't hold me like this... Please don't hold me like you still care...” she pleaded weakly, trying to push him away. Her arms on his chest, weakly pushing him away but the man wouldn't budge.

These two have history together... The others thought as they looked at the two angelic beings.

Lucifer's heart aches even more but refusing to let go of her and make her fall into the floor, he can tell she's incredibly exhausted by how much she's no longer trying or having the energy to stand up for herself.

“No [Y/n]... I made that mistake before and I promised not to lose you again...” he says, his voice cracking with emotions, slightly choking on his words. [Y/n]'s eyes widened at his words, her heart aching, hurting, she wants to believe his words, but the damage is not so easy to fix. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She nuzzled her head against his chest, her eyes finally rolling back as she passed out into his arms. Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. Despite all of that, Lucifer's arms are as warm and comforting as she remembers.

Lucifer's gaze softened, he gently shifted [Y/n]'s limp body so he's now carrying her bridal style. Making sure he's not causing her even more pain.

His eyes returned back to the sinners and her daughter, they looked at him with evident confusion in their eyes. He sighs, “She's... My first wife... First ex-wife.. I don't know...” he answered pathetically to the unspoken question in the air, even he himself doesn't know what his status with her is. They never really divorced each other.

Angel Dust whistled, “Quite a dilemma you got there toots.” he snickered and Lucifer glared at him before sighing, he himself agreed to that statement, “I know...” he sighs.

“I'll just leave her somewhere safe to rest and I'll come back to help fix and tidy up this place.” Lucifer says, summoning a portal behind him and quickly stepping in with [Y/n] in his arms. The others didn't have time to protest as the portal closed before they could.

Lucifer carried her effortlessly in his arms, walking towards his bedroom—it is currently the cleanest as the other rooms were dusty from being unused.

He gently laid her down to rest on his bed, making sure she's not lying down on her hair. He was about to tuck her in when he noticed something golden seeped into her white dress, just by her waist.

His eyes widened, that's blood. Angelic blood to be specific.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She's bleeding, what the actual fuck happened to her?

He thought to himself, debating whether to rip her dress or undress her so he could treat her wound.

“Oh Satan. I shouldn't overthink this, she's in desperate need of help.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath, hands shaking. Why wouldn't he? She's finally back in his arms and now she's wounded and bleeding and passed out to exhaustion? He's behind worried!

Think Lucifer, think.

He thought to himself before finally getting an idea. He gently wakes her up with a small nudge, causing the girl fo groan and open her eyes.

Pain, sharp pain on her side is what [Y/n] felt first when she woke up. She could see a familiar mop of light blond hair. Disoriented, her eyes blurry, and head aching, she just groaned, “Xavier...?” she calls out, thinking it was her son.

“I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm just going to undress you and treat your wound real quick. Can I do that?” he murmured, asking for her consent. [Y/n] just nodded and groaned before passing out again.

Lucifer sighs in relief, snapping his fingers together to remove her dress and changed her into something comfortable and appropriate. A light pink satin pajamas. He lifted up her shirt and Lucifer had to cover his mouth.

So much concentrated negative energy is present on her wound, a wound that is located at the left side of her waist.

Lucifer swallows the lump of nothing in his throat, he sits on the empty spot of his bed. He'll worry later, he needs to heal her as fast as he can. Placing his hand above her wound, hovering slightly. A golden aura radiates from the palm of his hand.

No wonder she's so exhausted, it's taking so long to heal this wound. He thought, exerting more energy into healing her. His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained his concentration, making sure his power flows directly into his hand.

Slowly and surely, her wound began to close in. Lucifer could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the concentrated negative energy making the healing process much more harder.

No wonder she was so exhausted, she must've tried healing herself before coming here. He thought to himself.

With a gasped, the wound finally closed and healed itself. It felt like his life was sucked out of him after healing her.

He sighs, his eyes softening as his gaze landed on her sleeping form. She no longer had that pained expression on her face after healing her and he's glad. He's glad to be able to at least help her and not cause her pain for once. He gently lifts her hand and pressed a chaste kiss at her knuckle before bringing it back down again to her side.

He tucks her underneath the blanket, making sure she's comfortable.

He left her side once more, this time, promising that he'll be back. He just needed to help his daughter. He'll be back before she wakes up.

“Luci...? Please don't leave me again...” she whispers in her sleep, snuggling into his warm blanket. Lucifer's eyes watered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“I'll be back before you know it, I'll see you soon, [Y/n].” he whispers before teleporting away in specks of red and golden dust.

Meanwhile, in heaven.

“YOU LEFT MY MOTHER BEHIND?!” Xavier growled, pissed. He glares at Adam, the first man. Annoyed that the man left his mother with his father, THE MAN WHO LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN!

“Look, your mom was clearly pissed off and I don't want to face her wrath. I can tell that that woman is holding so much anger inside her and just waiting to blow up.” Adam says nonchalantly, a sigh escaping his lips, shrugging.

Xavier wanted to rip his own hair in frustration. He is beyond worried, he just found out that his mother would be taking care whatever bullshit is happening in hell and she's been gone for hours now! Adam and the exorcists' arrived back in heaven three hours ago and there is still no sign of his mother.

He's worried, he knows his mother has just gotten out of work from the mortal realm and went straight down to hell to fix whatever damage Adam and the exorcists' did.

“Fuck this, I'm going down there and look for her.” Xavier says with a sigh, annoyed at Adam for being good for nothing.

TAGLIST I:

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nyxwoodstone · 1 month

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Televangelism | Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon offers Johnny a place to stay the night after a deployment, and Johnny gladly obliges. Much to his surprise, there's more to Simon Riley's home life than he previously thought.

TLDR: Soap doesn't know that Simon has a wife...he finds out when he goes to his Lt's house. :)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, female reader, pregnant!reader, Simon and reader already have a toddler..., maybe a little OOC Ghost but allow it, no smut all plot, still MDNI I swear to God, idk like minor swearing but if you're from the COD fandom I feel like you should know that, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: if you saw this previously posted to another account, no you didn't :) I don't really know what to call this type of fic, it is a Ghost x Reader, but it's got quite a bit of self-reflection and characterization from Soap. very little beta, but msg me if there's any horrendous spelling or grammar issues. i'm not American, hence the spelling differences. let's just ignore the fact that Ghost inviting Johnny to sleep at his house is more than a little too friendly for special forces guys, let's just ignore that plz!!!!!

Dictionary: SO - superior officer Civvies - civilian clothing NOD's - them night vision goggle thingo's Padre - colloquial name for Bristish Army Chaplains

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It was done.

Another successful operation. A difficult operation.

The entire squad had returned with just minor scrapes and cuts, and more shit to compartmentalise. Not that there was much compartmentalisation these days, the missions just rolled into each other. Sometimes there was a week break in between, sometimes a few months. Never enough time for Soap regain his footing in civilian life. Never enough time to get past the 'disruption' phase of reintegration that the chaplains were always talking about.

Every time he flew back to base, he'd get the same bleeding rundown from a different Padre. Every. Time.

"Now, there are five stages of reintegration after deployment, Sergeant."

"I know that."

"Humour me."

He'd fight back the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes, he'd just do it. The chaplain would continue.

"Pre-entry, you've done that already, psych evals and such. You know the drill. Then, reunion, you'll see your family again-"

Shit. He needed to call his sister.

"-and take some time for yourself. Next is disruption, you'll realise not everything is the same as when you left it, people will have new routines, new hobbies, it's normal to feel resentful during this stage-"

And they'd go on. Tell him about communication, then normalcy. But he never got that far. He'd go home to his apartment, visit his mother, go to coffee with his sister (she worried about him, always did), and then he would be off on his next operation. He'd get a visit, or a call, and he'd be off, with little word to family. There was never enough time. Soap wondered why the task force needed the same spiel every time they returned, it wasn’t as if this was new. It was old. This runaround was old now: United Kingdom, to some forsaken country, to back home, with more memories and less connections. It was what he loved. But it was also what he despised.

"Johnny."

Most of the squad had dispersed, each finishing psych evals and heading off to the on-base housing, their cars, or the mess hall. He didn't actually know if the mess was open at this time of night, he supposed it was only the wee hours of the morning, but God-knew. Johnny had just finished his packing, and was heading towards the unremarkable block of small apartments on the far side of the base. It was a fair hike, but he'd do it. There wasn't another choice, but his flight wasn't until tomorrow, and he staunchly refused to stay awake all night. He'd sleep tonight, then go to debrief, then go the fuck home.

"Johnny."

It was Ghost, in civvies, hands in his jacket pockets. Mask gone. Johnny supposed that was just the way it ought to be, he couldn't wear it everywhere, and wearing it in civvies would certainly give any onlookers, soldiers or not, reason to be curious. Attention was not what men in their position needed. Still, seeing his face was…almost unsettling.

"Lt.?"

*************************************

Simon hung up the phone and tucked it in his back pocket. He felt God-awful calling at this time of night, but he had to do it. He'd sworn to, every time he got back to base, he had to call. Johnny was staring out at the quiet base, the parade grounds just a few hundred metres away, still lit up in the night.

"Johnny."

He'd never really thought about where Johnny must go after operations, he didn't even assume anything, once they were back on the ground, once they were out of the shit, it wasn't any of business, or any of his concern.

"You're allowed to like the men you work with, love." His wife's voice rang in the back of his mind.

He did…like them. They were good lads. Got the job done. Stitched each other up. Didn't leave each other behind. But liking them outside of work? Their job was far too dangerous to make close attachments like that. In his younger days, when he wasn't in the special forces, he'd made…’friends’ wasn't the right word for it. He'd made…acquaintances with some of the soldiers on his unit, they'd go out for drinks, egg each other on in the pub, take each other home after a long night out. But special forces were another world. Here, everything mattered. Every little thing mattered. And perhaps he was just older now, he'd matured more. Back then, he hadn't had anything to lose. Now, though-now he had everything to lose. A family, a home - a life.

But despite all of that, he had grown to appreciate Johnny. He was a good man, in the shit, and out of it.

They'd talked a few times about their lives outside of the army. Nothing important, nothing below surface level. Soap had a mother who had health problems, and a sister who worked in a hospital (he hadn't told Simon what she did, or even told him her name), and who worried about him constantly. Johnny joked that she would end up a patient one day if she kept stressing so much. Simon had told him that he lived far enough from the base that he wasn't constantly thinking about work, he'd told him that he played football as a kid; that was it. Not a lick more.

Johnny gave up far more information willingly than Simon ever could. But they got along. That was enough.

The Scot stood across from him, still staring out at nothing.

"Johnny."

Soap turned his head.

"Lt.?"

"Going home?"

“Sleeping on base tonight, sir, then got a flight tomorrow night.”

On base? After that operation? Simon sighed inwardly and observed the bent hunch of his subordinate's shoulders. He knew that feeling. Finishing a mission alive, but with more red in his ledger. That was all good and well, but the final fucking straw was those damned prison cages that the military called bedrooms. It took a moment to debate, no longer.

"Mine’s 15 minutes from the airport.”

Soap’s eyebrows raised at the Lieutenant’s offer.

“It’s alright, sir, I’ll survive here.”

“After that shit? You need a real bed, Johnny.”

The sergeant ran a hand over his face and dropped his shoulders.

“Y-yeah, alright, Lt. If that’s alright with you.”

“Let’s go,” Ghost turned on his heel and began towards the car park, taking out his phone to shoot off a quick text.

'One of the boys needs somewhere to stay. He's a good man.'

****************************************************************************************

'One of the boys needs somewhere to stay. He's a good man.'

You groggily shot back a text.

'Get home safe, love you."

Simon had been due back for a few days now, but you'd been trying to get used to the unpredictability of his work schedule.

This was nothing new, though. You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you got married to him. He had sat you down when you had first gotten serious, and showed you his will.

That had been an aggressive wake-up call. You knew how dangerous his job was. No one on the planet Earth was foolish enough to think that special forces meant 'safety.' You knew he could die any time he went away. But the long-term reality of that fact didn't set in until you sat beside him and scanned your eyes over that document. You didn't feel connected to your body. It was as if you were peering in on some other person's life, quietly staring through the looking glass to see some insane woman who was desperately in love with a man whose life meant very little up against the interests of international security. To your credit, you hadn't cried when he showed you. How badly you had wanted to. But you didn't. You grit your teeth and clenched your fists. He could die at any moment. So you had better make the most of every second you had with him.

You'd told him as much and he had accused you of not taking his job seriously. A method of self-preservation you recognized from your years of being with him. You had told him he wasn't going to push you away so easily. He had left in a huff and came back the next day with an apology on his lips, and a ring in his hand.

There was no pomp about it, just simple, and practical. So very Simon Riley.

Simon had never been a particularly romantic man, and God, was he difficult to read. But he loved you. He did. And you adored him. And you'd made it this far, a few years of marriage, one kid in, and one on the way; you'd done it. You would keep doing it until the day you dropped cold. So would he, he'd told you so hundreds of times.

No, he was not romantic, but he showed you in other ways. He would rub your back when you were tired, he would open doors for you, or kiss you gently when you needed it. Simon Riley was a man of few words, but frequent action. You loved him for it.

The first time you'd met him, you'd nearly gone weak in the knees. Cliché. He teased you for it endlessly, you never should have admitted that to him. But how were you to help yourself, he was a handsome, well-muscled man with a scowl that you found endearing. You still found that deep scowl endearing today, and on more than one occasion, you had gently pinched his cheek when he pulled that face. He would always chuckle and bat your hand away, biting the inside of his mouth so there was no looser skin for you to pinch again.

Simon Riley was, in your (biassed) opinion, the most handsome, most incredible, most loving man to ever live. And he was yours. Whenever he came shopping with you, or took you out somewhere, it was impossible to escape the stares that other women gave him. Part of you despised it, part of you basked in it. You'd lean in to whisper something in his ear, or pat him gently on the chest, anything to mark him as yours. See this man, he's mine. He'd swear other men did the same to you, but you didn't believe him. He certainly believed himself though, placing a hand on the small of your back or tucking a piece of hair behind your ear whenever he thought he saw eyes on you. It was sweet.

You two had this little…thing. This cocoon for just you two. The comfort and safety that flowed between the both of you had been years in the making, and had taken many, many arguments and discussions to solidify. And you had argued, sometimes into the night hours, going back and forth about trust, and patience, and understanding. You had often had to fight for his agreement, or for his trust, but you had never had to fight for his love. That had come without question, but you'd had to fight for him to show it to you, for him to allow himself one good thing in life. He was different now, all those years of being with you, and working on himself, and all the absolute hell that he had been through. He was different, and you loved the man he was, and the man he had become. No one at his job knew how gentle he could be, the softness he was capable of. No one.

Although, you supposed that was about to change. He was bringing 'one of the guys' to your house, to stay. You had told him before that you had absolutely no problem with him bringing his friends - he wasn't a fan of you calling them that - over. If they needed somewhere to stay, you were more than willing to house them, they were strong men facing down the worst of the world's threats, they deserved somewhere to feel safe, if only for one night. He'd told you he might - although you'd always suspected that he wouldn’t - allow one of his squad mates into his home, and you'd encouraged him to do so if it was necessary. Tonight was the night.

Simon had called you as soon as he could, like he always did.

"I've landed, love, I'll be heading home soon."

"Good. How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Hungry?"

"Just ate here."

"Alright, I'll be in bed, please wake me up."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you too. Drive safe."

He sounded exhausted on the phone, nothing out of the ordinary though, he was always tired when he came home. You were remiss to admit to yourself that you were tired too. You ran a hand over your stomach. It had swelled up in the time that Simon had been gone. What a difference just a few weeks made. You'd had to attend your scheduled scan alone, and had the photos in the drawer next to your bed, ready to show Simon when he got home.

This baby had been something of a surprise. Not an enormous one, though. Simon and yourself had been significantly less careful in the months leading up to when you found out, and you'd talked about it: another kid, the whole thing. He had been apprehensive to say the least, so you had waited without resentment. He needed time, and God knew, you needed time, so you had both taken time. It had taken a year or so of discussions, he was terrified to become his father. He would never be his father, never. He was nothing like him, nothing. And he had come to his own decision. Being a father would be new, terrifying, different, but he put an ounce of faith in himself, and-

- And then you were late.

You wished you could be like those women in movies who have no idea, and have a whole revelation about being pregnant. But you were not stupid, you were practical, it was one of the things Simon often told you that he loved about you. So practicality it was. You were sure you were pregnant. Three positive pregnancy tests later, and that sealed the deal.

Then you'd burst into tears in your bathroom.

God, who were you to think you could do this? He was due to leave for a three-week operation in two days. You'd be alone in your first few weeks, with a young toddler as well, who's needs were more important than your own.

You didn't hear Simon come home from his run, you'd hardly heard the jagged tone to his voice when he pushed the door open. What a sight it must have been for him. You, curled into the bathroom wall, crying hysterically and hugging yourself. He did well to hide his panic, the soldier in him must have taken over for a few seconds. He scanned the bathroom floor, then checked you over for injuries, asking what was wrong the whole time. Then he'd scanned the bathroom counter and found the three tests lined up. He knew what they were, but bless him, he didn't know if they were negative or positive, the lines meant nothing to him.

"You're pregnant?"

You'd barely managed a nod and to his absolute credit, he did not clam up. He did not shut his mouth, or grit his teeth, or sink back onto his heels. He had reassured you, pulled you into his lap on the floor and talked you out of your hysterics. He'd waited patiently until you could talk. And you had been fine. You loved him, he loved you, and you both loved this baby. You would be fine. It had never been so hard to say goodbye to him as he left for his next mission. You'd never been so panicked whilst he had been away. You had to call your friend to come and stay with you for the time he was away, so she could help you stay out of your thoughts and help with the little toddler who was always asking where her Daddy was.

But all of that panic always subsided when he came home, when he lay beside you and breathed quietly as he slept. Everything was better when he was there. And he would be in an hour or two, so you allowed yourself to get some rest until you heard his tires in the drive.

**************************************************************************************************************

Every few seconds, the car was forced into the dull yellow shine of the street lights. Soap wanted to ask how much longer they would be travelling, but for lack of better words than ‘are we there yet,’ he remained silent, watching identical rows of darkened townhouses amble by. It had been a long drive though, long enough that Johnny had glanced at the clock on the car's electronic display once or twice, just to make sure he wasn't losing his mind.

Suburbia was not quite what Soap had imagined when he thought of his lieutenant's home, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he thought Ghost might live. Far from base was all the information he had to guess from. Everyone has to stay somewhere, right? Guiltily, John realised he hadn’t much considered that Simon did in fact, live a civilian life. For weeks or months at a time. The task force wasn’t on duty 24/7, but Ghost, as a normal person? Someone you might see crossing the street? Carrying groceries? It hasn’t crossed his mind.

Strange.

Strange to think of such a deadly man in such a domestic sphere.

They were the same though, he supposed. Just as deadly as each other. Just as domestic, too.

The low rumble of a flight path ahead served to calm Soap, so used to noise as he winded down. Silence was deafening, silence was dangerous. Deep down, although he struggled to admit it, the long string of silence that met him in his own home terrified him. The emptiness, the void that greeted him when he first entered his flat, before the click of his fingers on the light switch, before he turned on the industrial fan beside his couch and before the kettle started to whistle. The silence would grip him around the neck, trying to pull him into his thoughts.

Close-knit housing soon dropped off into plots of land, with sparser houses and longer driveways. The expected pricing of these blocks didn’t escape the sergeant.

Another hour or so later, when the modern street lights had long since faded out into antiquated street lamps every hundred metres, the car began to slow.

“We’re here.” Ghost ripped the quiet in two with the gruff edge of his voice, turning off onto a lined driveway. In the dim light, the house stood modestly. Perfectly normal. Far enough away from other houses to be private, but close enough to be watchful of the neighbours. How fitting.

The ignition rumbled to a stop as Ghost turned the key and exited the car.

Boots hitting the stone, Soap immediately felt at odds with this house. It wasn’t his. It was Ghost’s, a man he knew very little about. It wasn't enemy territory, perhaps this was worse: friendly territory. Too friendly territory. A peaceful space, one that he shouldn't be encroaching on.

He followed said man to the door, crunching quietly up the drive and swinging his bag over his shoulder, a more comfortable hold for his exhausted muscles.

Ghost grunted quietly as he unlocked and pushed the door open, swearing and muttering something about getting it fixed.

“Boots off.” He spoke rather quietly and Soap responded immediately, shrugging out of his boots and sitting them next to a few others at the door. His first sign that something was…amiss, was that there were a few pairs of shoes far too small for Simon, stacked neatly on a wooden shelf next to the door.

He was greeted with a long hallway as he followed Simon through the quiet house. His second sign that something was amiss, was that this house smelled, to put it kindly, feminine. It did not smell like an empty house, nor one that was inhabited by a lone man. Unless of course, Simon Riley had a penchant for vanilla-scented candles. Soap suspected he did not.

A few photographs and decorations adorned the walls but they were impossible to make out in the dark. Soap’s fingers twitched towards his head a split second before he was pulled back to reality and realised that there were no NOD's to help him out here. A stupid instinctual move that he found himself doing more and more these days.

Compartmentalisation, his ass.

Ghost pushed a door to his right open, it creaked quietly in the silent house.

“Spare room’s in here, bathrooms to the left-“

“Thanks, Lt.”

“Take a shower, but keep it down, the missus’ll be asleep.”

And as if he hadn’t just flash-banged Soap, Ghost left, turning on his heel and heading further into the house.

Next Part

#ghost x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #Simon Riley #Simon Ghost Riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #idk how tags work

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arkhammaid · 11 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ NAPPING WITH THEM.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairings. blade, dan heng, gepard, jing yuan, welt x gn!reader

content warnings. sfw, sleeping/napping with them, sharing one bed, written in lowercase, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.8k

notes. i literally word-vomited this after my first final exam, please don't expect too much ;-;

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ blade.

blade isn’t a napper, too busy with his work and often too energized to even sleep properly at night. but when he does, it’s only because you ask him to join you. and even then, when you fall asleep in minutes, he lays wide awake while you sleep peacefully in his arms. he doesn’t even bother with trying to sleep, simply closing his eyes, and enjoying the peace he has when he’s with you.

it has only happened a few times, where he fell asleep, and you had to wake him. he doesn’t like the feeling, not quite asleep but also not quite awake. it dulls his senses, something he hates, yet he doesn’t complain. blade could never complain or refuse to join you during your naps, not when you snuggle up to him with a small smile, happy to be close to him.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng.

dan heng is a chronic napper. With his irregular sleep schedule, he has to catch up on sleep, or else he can’t properly function. so, it’s no surprise that he can fall asleep the moment his head hits the pillow, curling together while the astral express continues to drift across the stars. sometimes he drags you with him, seeing those dreary, dark circles under your eyes and decides that both of you need some rest.

even when he’s with you, he curls together, this time around you, as if he’s a dragon hoarding his treasure. it keeps you warm and assures him you’re safe, bodies hidden behind that flimsy blanket of his. not that it’s needed, when his room is properly heated and he himself always runs warmer than most... and then you sleep, duration varying, depending on the amount of sleep you try to catch up on or if one of you is needed. but it already happened that the two of you slept a whole afternoon away and when you woke up, you just stayed in bed, simply because bedtime was in a few hours anyways.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard.

despite being busy with being a captain of the silvermane guards, gepard often takes naps. not those long afternoon naps, where he sleeps for hours, oh no— the longest time he ever napped were 45 minutes on the dot, always waking up the moment his alarm rings. you on the other hand enjoy longer naps and always grumble when he leaves the warm bed.

but it’s enough for you, when you fall asleep with him, sharing warmth beneath the thick blanket. his soft snores are a lullaby to you and help to calm your mind, drifting off to a well-deserved sleep. and when he tangles your hold from him to go back to work, he always kisses your cheek to soothe your complains. he would return into your waiting arms, he always does.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan.

taking an afternoon nap with the general is rare. but when it happens, you don’t nap alone. the purrs of his giant white pet lion and chirps of his little songbirds lull you into sleep. snuggled close to jing yuan, your head is on his chest, while his arms are wrapped around you. napping with him is a cherished comfort, the tender closeness making you blush, but you don’t deny your enjoyment of it. you know he enjoys it too, always falling asleep with a soft smile on his lips.

and when you wake up, hair tousled and eyes bleary, you can’t believe that this man is yours. yours to love, to hold and cherish. he looks pretty like this, guards down and body pliant, undeniably pretty. moments like this are rare, even rarer than these naps together, so you hold them close to your heart, making them a treasured memory.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ welt.

welt frequently naps. often for one or two hours, to catch up on the sleep he lacks. you never join him to fall asleep with him, since he never tells you that he wishes to nap. but you know he likes to wake up with you in his bed, snuggled close together and quietly snoring your exhaustion away. sometimes you miss his naps, often busy with your own work, but often you join him, slip beneath the covers and warm your cold limbs up.

and when he wakes, he never leaves the bed immediately. instead, he watches your relaxed face, listens to the soft breathes leaving you, letting himself drift and simply enjoy the moment. sometimes he falls asleep again, sometimes he does not. it doesn’t matter to him, not when he can enjoy waking up next to you.

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @auraxins , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @stellumi , @bladiekisser , @trailblazernet

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

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flamingpudding · 7 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 3 - "Okay, show me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"So… first time getting kidnapped?"

Tim blinked at the teen that was tied to a wall right across from him. He marveled for a a moment at how similar the two looked and even thought that he could see how the other teen could have gotten mistakenly kidnapped in his place. Though if they had already kidnapped him then why did they end up kidnapping him again?

"No, getting kidnapped kinda comes with the name and status." Tim finally answered and the other kid nodded sagely as if he understood. "Usually they are a little more incompetent."

He moved his wrists a little causing the strange silver bracelets they had slapped on his wired before chaining him to the wall so that they would cause a rattling noise, making the other teen look at them with a raised eyebrow.

"So first time getting kidnapped by the GIW then."

"GIW?"

"Guys in White, or well Ghost Investigation Ward, a government organization." The other teen explained with a shrug. "Usually they are incompetent. Aside from a couple of burns from getting shot, this is the first time they actually managed to chain me in a while. Normally they would have messed up by now but it's interesting that they even manage to nap you too."

Now Tim raised an eyebrow. That was news to him. To think there was a governmental organization that was actively abducting civilians for who knows what. Damn, he could see how B would not be happy once he told them about that.

"Sorry btw." Tim blinked up at the other teen in confusion, who chuckled in return. "They probably kidnapped you thinking you were my double or something. We look similar enough for them to think that."

"Wait…" Tim's eyes widened in realization. "They kidnapped me because I look like you? Not the other way around?"

"Uh yeah, why would I be kidnapped because of you?"

"Tim Drake-Wayne. Does that ring a bell?" Tim huffed only to watch how the other teen furrowed his eyebrows as if deep in thoughts before shrugging.

"In fact no it doesn't. But I don't keep up with high society, it helps pissing of the fruitloop whenever he drags me to 'meet important people' and I actively call them false names no matter how often he introduces them."

Tim's eye twitched. While that is fun, this was also the first time he met someone who hadn't heard of his name before in some way or form. In the end just let out a sigh.

"So what now? We wait to get rescued or will they release us after some time?" Well he had already tipped off his family, so it was probably only a matter of time until one of his siblings burst in to play knight in shining armor. He just hoped it wasn't Jason again, or he wouldn't shut up about having saved him for another month.

"Oh we can wait, but they won't release us. It's probably better if we get out on our own."

"Really? And how do you plan for us to get out of the handcuffs?" Well Tim did have a lock pin hidden in his jacket and some small sized tools stuffed into the sole of his shoes but with his hands chained above his head it was a little difficult to get them. But his feet were not chained so with just a bit of body twisting he could-

"Oh the handcuffs are no problem. They can be easily removed by overloading them."

"Overloading?" Tim arched an eyebrow, now the cuffs did not look like your normal brand he can admit that but how was the other going to do that unless he had some secret electric tool stored on him.

"Yea, overloading. It's pretty simple. These look like the same Brant they tried to cuff me with a year ago. It's funny how they look like they haven't learned a single thing in all these years."

"Really now?" Tim stared at the other teen unimpressed. "Okay, show me. How are you going to overload them with no tools around?"

"Easy." The other teen smirked at him and Tim's eyes widen as he saw the others hands emitting a green light before the cuffs on his wrist sparked and then fell off. Okay, noted the other teen was a Meta.

"My name is Danny by the way." Danny grinned as he rubbed his wrists before getting up and walking over to Tim to do the same to his cuffs. Tim rubbed his his own wirsts, carefully examining them for any time of injury only to look up just in time to watch Danny reach into his own chest. With wide eyes he watched Danny sticking out his tongue while one of his hands was going through his body as if he was looking for something.

"Aha! I knew I stuck them in my body somewhere for a situation like this!" Okay there was so much to unpack from this sentence alone but before Tim could even ask a single question Danny pulled out a lockpick set from his chest and proceeded to pick at their cell door.

"I have so many questions." Tim muttered, still watching the other teen.

"Well I can probably answer some of them once we are out of here. It's the least I can do after you get kidnapped because of me." Danny grinned as the lock he was working on clicked and he swung the door open. "Wanna talk over some coffee? You look like you need some."

"This is definitely not what I expected when I said 'show me'." Tim muttered once more walking passed Danny out of their cell, eager to leave this place.

"Yea well that the more civilian friendly things I can do." Danny followed with a grin. "Though I do have some other tricks I could have used too."

"You talk like a hero." Tim thought aloud, eyeing the teen and how they were holding themselves. Nothing about this teen screamed innocent civilian anymore, well aside from the obvious Meta abilities. He also marbled about the fact that they basically just walked out of the warehouse they had been holding. Huh looked like these GIW guys were really as incompetent as Danny had mentioned earlier.

"Yea, well I am a retired Hero." Great now Tim got more to look into in regards to Danny. Oh that reminded him, he probably should tell his family that he was no longer kidnapped… but that could probably wait until after he got his coffee with Danny. What was the worst that could happen? Red Hood storming an empty building. Oh well, it would be a good exercise for his brother then.

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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months

Text

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.

so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...

The Avatar

the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".

the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.

atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending

the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".

the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.

Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.

this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.

Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.

Bumi

bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.

one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.

NWT Royal Palace

chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.

gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.

Betrothal Necklaces

to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.

the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.

Chi-Blocking

though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.

kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.

Wan Shi Tong's Library

the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.

i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

Note

A short while ago you mentioned fic on AO3 that was written in the “AO3 style”, or something to that effect. I was wondering if you could elaborate on what that means/is?

Oh god. This topic comes around every 6 months or so. Others should feel free to help me out here, but basically...

A lot of fanfic sounds like the other fanfic and other stuff that the same communities consume. In a given era and sector of fandom, that leads to a samey style. It often has a lot of overlap with a specific sector and era of genre fiction with a heavy dose of watches-tv-does-not-read-books elements on top.

AO3 House Style is relatively similar to the height of LJ Western slash fandom. Other fanfic styles are often similar but start showing other influences the more distant you get.

There are some major strains, not always in the same works:

Transparent genre fiction prose that doesn't call too much attention to itself. It's there to convey plot, not make you notice the language qua language. You'll see something similar in, say, a Mercedes Lackey novel (along with the terrible editing and protagonist centered morality that are also common in fic, haha).

YA boom era YA vibes.

Kind of forced "snark" and samevoice from many characters in a way that tells you the author spent a little too much time watching Buffy.

World building and complex thriller/mystery/etc. plots that actually work typically take a back seat to pining, angst with a happy ending, and other more ship-focused, character interaction-focused, and emotions-focused things. The general idea of a mystery, vampire AU, etc. is often present, but it's more of a backdrop. (Depends on the part of fandom though!)

Huge focus on the internal psychological and emotional state of characters.

Lots of hurt/comfort, both physical and emotional.

Lots of serialized work that shows the traces of being written that way (dangling plot threads, inflated word count, returning to similar plot points in a way that wouldn't happen if the thing were completely written, revised, and then only posted serially).

Certain cliched phrases like "He smelled of __ and __ and something uniquely him", carding fingers through hair (thanks, commenters for researching this one a year or two ago and proving it's way more common in fic!), "Oh. Oh.", etc.

If the fic is more self-consciously literary, it's full of sentences that trail off to the point where you're almost not sure what actually happened.

Often lots of very short paragraphs and lots of scenes that are almost all dialogue

Frequently third person limited present tense. Some third person limited past tense. Less of other stuff unless you're looking at a fandom where canon is first person or you're looking at readerfic (which is on AO3 but is not really "AO3 House Style").

Honestly, some people would just say "sounds like fanfic", but if you go read primarily on SpaceBattles or something, you're going to find a lot of stories that don't sound quite the same as your prototypical AO3 fic.

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knapptapp · 2 months

Text

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

#james potter #james x reader #james potter x reader #james x you #james potter x y/n #mauraders #mauraders x reader #harry potter x reader

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thot-of-khonshu · 6 months

Text

bell bottom blues (joel miller x f!reader)

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Summary: you're the town seamstress and you've had a crush on joel miller for ages. when he gifts you a pair of bell bottoms, you go to his house and finally confess your feelings leading to a night of whiskey and fun. Inspired by the song 'bell bottom blues' by eric clapton/derek and the dominos

Rating: M, 18+

Word count: 6.5K

Content: a fluffy smut, if you will. shy joel, joel playing guitar, age gap (20+ years), pining, miscommunication, alcohol use, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

A/N: I've been on a bit of a writing hiatus due to work and personal obligations, plus some fandom drama. but when the bug calls, the bug calls. I hope you guys enjoy and remember to like and reblog! <3

“God I wish I had her tits.” You bemoaned, raking through an old magazine. You found it with a film of dust in the safety hideout you had all primarily used when patrolling and you just couldn’t keep your eyes away from it.

“Way to keep your eye on what’s important.” Your watch partner, Joel, deadpanned while surveying the area.

“It’s my break time so no judgment, old man.” You looked up at him from the couch you were sitting on. The door was open to let in the cool fall air and so you could converse with Joel. “I didn’t say anything when you brought your guee-tar on our last watch together.”

"Very funny." Joel drawled. "But I don't seem to recall you complainin' much when I played "Blackbird"."

You huffed, a little smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you turned the page. "That's because it's a good song."

He grinned to himself, looking out the window again. "It sure is."

You two fell into a comfortable silence while you continued to read your magazine. That was the best part about patrol days with Joel, he was a great listener and you felt comfortable confiding in him.

When he had originally shown back up to Jackson with his kind-of-daughter Ellie, nobody had really known what to make of him. You'd heard stories from your community's leader Maria since she was married to his brother, Tommy, but she had never actually met him until they had stumbled upon the commune for the first time. As far as Tommy's advice on what to make of him? "Give him some space but make sure you get to know him. He's not as bad as he might come across."

You hadn't understood at the time what he meant by that but after spending more time with him around the town you had started to figure him out. For instance, he was a great listener, a hard worker, and had a very dry sense of humor. Also, he was incredibly handsome in a rough-around-the-edges type of way. You two had fallen into a comfortable friendship whenever you'd seen each other around or had to patrol together. In the world before the outbreak, you couldn't have imagined being friendly with a man twenty years your senior. But that was the world before the outbreak, you thought, smiling a bit to yourself.

"You got something good there, darlin'?"

You glanced up at him, your heart jumping at the sudden noise after the quiet for the past half hour. You could feel a blush crawling up your neck.

"Uh, not really." You flipped the page, trying to play it cool. "I just like to look at the models and dream."

Joel turned his head to look at you, one brow raised. "Dream, huh?"

"Yup. I mean look at these bright fabrics and patterns. Can you imagine having a wardrobe with any of these colors in it?" You held up the page you were on, showing Joel the vibrant pink dress the model was wearing. It was a halter top with tight jeans and a flare at the end and the woman's long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders. The image made you ache for a world that was long gone.

"God, I would kill for those jeans." You moaned.

"They're called bell bottoms." Joel corrected you.

You sat up, your mouth dropping open. "How did you know that?!"

He smirked at you, returning his gaze out the window. "I wasn't always an old man, ya know. I used to wear them back in the day."

"No shit?"

"No shit." He confirmed, chuckling a bit. "I was about ten when I wore 'em but those were the style back in the day. I think I had a pair in green."

You stared at him in amazement. "Can you imagine that? Green bell bottoms?"

Joel's face turned into a grimace. "More of my momma's fashion choice for Tommy and me."

You smiled fondly. "If I had a pair like these I'd stich them up and wear them out to the bar. I can't believe they made things like this."

Besides patrolling, you had also used your skills in the commune with clothing and it was no secret which one you preferred. You loved taking old, worn, and ragged pieces of clothing and fixing them up to give them a new life. The thought of being able to take something that was broken and give it new meaning and purpose was exciting and thrilling.

"You've got quite a talent, y'know. Those clothes you make look like you took them right outta the magazine." Joel said, glancing over at you. "You should be proud of yourself."

You smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Thanks, Joel. It's nice of you to say."

"Well, it's the truth."

The sound of a twig snapping approaching made the both of you jump. You sprung up and grabbed your gun. Joel was already at the door, looking out the window.

"What is it?" You asked, your hand steady on the gun.

"It's a damn deer." He said, shaking his head.

"Thank god." You sighed. You placed your gun down and joined him at the window, looking out to see the animal. The deer was grazing and seemed unconcerned about the two of you. You watched it move with a sense of tranquility and ease.

"You scared?"

You glanced up at him. His brow was creased and his lips were drawn. You realized this was the first time you'd ever been this close to Joel Miller. You took a moment to study his features. At first glance, his eyes, dark and deep, are the most captivating. They have the kind of depth that has his entire story - joy, sorrow, and everything in between. You've seen them twinkle with mischief specifically with Tommy and Ellie, and cold and impenetrable when talking to someone he doesn't particularly like.

He's got the faintest scars, a reminder of the life he lived before Jackson, and a smattering of freckles on his chest that are barely visible. You can see the fine wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes and wonder how many times he's smiled in his lifetime and how many more smiles you could give him.

He calls your name. You shake your head, breaking yourself out of the fantasy. "No. Should I be?"

"Nah. Not with me here." He smiled.

Your stomach clenched, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. He kept his eyes on you, searching for a reaction.

"We should probably finish our watch." You said, tearing yourself away from the moment.

Joel stood there, unmoving. He was studying you. A silly little girl with a stupid crush, you thought. You could feel his stare but ignored it, picking up your weapon and returning to the couch.

"We should." He finally agreed.

And as much as you wanted to focus, you couldn't help but continue to study Joel when your nose wasn't in the magazine.

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

Joel should've known you weren't interested.

You were young, beautiful, talented, and easy-going. Even from the first day he was back in Jackson he could see the way people were drawn to you. When you walked up and talked to him for the first time he was surprised there were still people out there that were still so friendly and warm. He was so used to being the suspicious asshole, the guy who always had a plan and a reason for being, but not with you. You'd just come up and started chatting him up like he was one of your good friends, expecting nothing in return.

That's the thing about you that's always amazed him. You don't expect anything. He doesn't have to go out of his way to prove his worth to you or show you what a good man he can be. You just trust him.

When the two of you got closer than you ever had on that afternoon patrol, Joel felt a stirring in his gut he hadn't felt since Tess. The tightness in his pants was a sign, too. An unfortunate sign at the time you were supposed to be patrolling for clickers but a sign nonetheless. He'd noticed the way you'd looked at him as you watched the deer. He wasn't that old, yet. He could still recognize a spark when he saw it.

But he also saw the way other men in town looked at you. Men closer to your age, men with more to offer. Men without all the baggage and darkness and secrets. Men who could treat you right.

So, he buried the spark and kept you as his friend. It was better that way.

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

"Look alive, you old fucker." Tommy nudged Joel's arm, walking up to the abandoned house. They were doing a scouting mission in the outskirts of Jackson. There had been a small group of raiders spotted the night before by a patrol.

"I'm more than alive. I'm kicking your ass."

Tommy rolled his eyes, smiling. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

They both pulled out their guns, ready to clear the place.

"You ready?" Tommy whispered, nodding towards the door.

"Yep." Joel responded, grabbing the doorknob and opening it.

It was a pretty standard scene for a raider's camp. There were blood splatters on the floor, bullet casings, and empty cans everywhere. Joel had seen it many times before and he was certain Tommy had too.

"It's like a fucking pigsty." Tommy remarked, walking towards the stairs.

"No kiddin'." Joel responded, looking around. "I don't think anyone's here."

"Let's check the upstairs and then head home. I wanna tell Maria about this."

They checked each room upstairs. Most of the bedrooms were empty, except for one. The last room they had to check had the door locked.

"What's this?" Tommy said.

"Let's break it open." Joel suggested.

"No. We'll try to pick the lock."

"Fine." Joel said, crouching down and grabbing Ellie's bobby pin he always carried. "This won't take long."

Joel inserted the bobby pin into the keyhole, moving it around to jiggle the mechanism inside. After a minute or two he opened the door.

"Well, that's not what I was expectin'." Joel said.

"Were you expectin' blood and guts?" Tommy responded, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, pretty much."

The brothers surveyed the bedroom. There was dust swirling in the air and a thick layer on every surface. It looked like the room had been abandoned for a while. A queen sized bed sat against the wall with a nightstand beside it. A dresser and a full length mirror were in the corner.

"We should still check everything out, just in case." Tommy motioned Joel into the room.

They searched the area and found nothing but the normal. They were almost done when Tommy found the closet.

"What do we have here?" He said, pulling the doors open.

"Just some clothes." Joel said.

"Looks like we've got a few treasures. What's that?" Tommy pointed at the back of the closet.

Joel pushed some clothes aside and a pair of jeans with a flair at the bottom fell to the ground. "Bell bottoms."

"Well, I'll be." Tommy smiled. "Do you remember these things?"

"Yeah." Joel replied, immediately remembering your conversation.

"What're those doing all the way out here?"

"Probably left behind by the original owners." Joel mused. Without hesitation, he grabbed the pants and tucked them under his arm.

Tommy turned and looked at him, his brow furrowing. "What're you doin' with those?"

"Gonna bring 'em home."

"To who?" Tommy had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Last time I checked those ain't really Ellie's style. I could think of someone who might be able to fix those up, though."

Joel's gaze shot to his brother. He glared at him. "Don't you dare."

Tommy raised his hands, surrendering. "All right, all right. I won't say a word. But I'm sure she'll love 'em. You could bring her a goddamn necklace full of teeth and she'd love it because it's from you."

Joel's heart raced at the implication. "What're you talkin' about?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Joel. Let's just get outta here so you can give her the goddamn pants."

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

Joel stood outside of the door to your house, the bell bottoms neatly folded in his hand. He could hear you rustling around inside and was nervous to knock.

"You can do this, old man." He told himself.

He knocked on the door, a quick rapping sound, and stepped back.

A second later, the door opened, and his face dropped. You hadn't answered the door. Instead, it was Nick, a tall, handsome young man who works at the stables. He had the kind of face that Joel used to see in cheesy teen movies he would bring Sarah to see. He had a strong jawline, sandy blonde hair, and broad shoulders. He looked at Joel and then down to the pants.

"Can I help you, Mr. Miller?"

Mr. Miller. Jesus Christ.

"Uh...." Christ and he couldn't even find his words. "I came by to uh..."

"Joel?" Your voice cut through his thoughts. He could see the confusion on Nick's face when you walked up. You smiled at Joel warmly, like a ray of sunshine. "Hi."

"Hey, darlin'." Joel smiled, his nerves disappearing.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just bringing these by." He said, holding out the pants to you. "I, uh, found 'em and thought maybe you could work some of your magic."

Your face lit up. "These are bell bottoms! Are you serious? Where did you find these?"

Joel could feel the smirk tugging at his lips. "Out and about. Tommy and I cleared a place the other day and found 'em."

"Joel, this is incredible!" You looked at him, your face shining with excitement as you went in to hug him. He was frozen, the warmth and scent of your body enveloping him. "I can't wait to get started."

"I'm glad you're happy."

You pulled away, giving him a quick smile before turning back to Nick. Joel could see his face drop a bit, and his stomach tightened.

"You can keep them here and work on them tomorrow. We've got a dinner date tonight." Nick said, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. Your eyes remained on Joel, though and your hands stayed at your sides.

Joel's chest ached. You were going on a date. With Nick. A boy, not a man. And not him.

"I, uh, don't want to hold ya'll up." Joel said, taking a step back. "Enjoy your night."

"Thanks, Joel." You said. He could feel you studying his face.

"Yes, thank you, sir." Nick added.

Joel nodded, turned, and walked away.

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

"....and then nobody else could catch that thing but there I was, deep into the lake with that fucking fish." Nick said, taking another sip of his drink. "I had no idea how I was gonna catch it but I couldn't let it go. So, I just dove in after it."

Nick was going on and on about some story that you couldn't even remember how it was brought up In the first place. You just knew Nick liked to talk about himself. A lot.

A lot of girls in Jackson had liked Nick. He was young, handsome, charming, and worked hard. He had the potential to be a catch for any single woman, but that didn't mean he was yours.

But then he showed up on your doorstep earlier that day with a charming smile and asked to come In. He'd told you he was interested in you and wanted to get to know you better. You were hesitant, especially considering the feelings you had for someone else, but you'd also remembered what had happened on your last patrol with Joel. You knew you couldn't compare with an older, sophisticated woman that might come his way one day. So, you accepted. What's the point in waiting on a fantasy?

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom when you'd heard someone knock on your door and Nick open it. You were annoyed at the immediate audacity he had to open your door without asking but then heard a familiar voice. Joel's.

You rushed out of the bathroom to see him standing there with fabric on his arm.

"These are bell bottoms!" You'd said excitedly. "Are you serious?"

And when you went to hug him, his body was tense and frozen. But the smell of him, a mix of pine and tobacco, filled your nostrils. And for a brief moment you'd imagined yourself pressed against his chest and kissing him.

That feeling only intensified when he looked at you. His face was a mixture of pain and jealousy and you realized that maybe he had felt something for you, too. But it was too late. He'd turned away and left.

It was the sweetest gesture and you couldn't even properly thank him because Nick had interrupted and ended the conversation about your date. You hated the way he slid his hand around your waist, it was such a gross power move. He acted like he owned you before he had even bothered to take you to dinner.

You tried to stay present with Nick but he wasn't making it easy. He had barely asked you about yourself, but you also were guilty of not engaging much.

"What do you think, doll?"

"What?" You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up at him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"About the lake? The fish? The dive?"

"Oh." You'd said, a wave of relief coming over you. "Wow, that's a crazy story. I'm sure the whole lake was shocked."

"They sure were." He laughed.

You forced a smile, looking down at your half-eaten meal.

"You know, I think you're the most beautiful girl in Jackson...." Nick started as your eyes started to wander across the room. You kept scanning for Joel to see if he was coming to have dinner in the dining room but he wasn't there.

You kept looking around until you saw Ellie, she was saying something to Dina and laughing and then heading out.

"Ellie!" You called out. She turned around and smiled, walking over.

"Hey! What's up?" You looked at the plates she had wrapped up and her heart sank.

"Just saying hi. I see you're wearing the flannel I fixed up." You pointed out.

"Yep, I love it." Ellie smiled, holding her arms out to showcase it. "Thanks again. Joel was happy you helped."

"Where is he, by the way?" You tried to act as nonchalant as possible but you heard Nick scoff.

"He's at home, actually. He wasn't feeling too well so I'm gonna drop him off some food before I come back to hang with Dina and Jesse."

You frowned. "Oh."

"If you'll both excuse me, I gotta use the John." Nick said, standing up. Not even remotely pretending he was interested in the conversation.

"He seems like a keeper." Ellie deadpanned.

"The kind of boy you bring home to your mother." You rolled your eyes, and she snickered.

"Is there a reason you're asking about Joel?" Ellie inspected you. For someone who was so young, she had a knack on picking up on things like that. And she had absolutely no filter about it.

"No." You shrugged. "He was just at my place earlier and gave me some bell bottoms. I just wanted to check on him."

"Ooooh." Ellie's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Stop." You said, glaring at her.

She turned her hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But all I'm gonna say is this, if you wanna check on him I don't think he's going anywhere all night and I'm sure he'd appreciate some company. Especially your company."

"Thanks, El." You beamed at her.

"Anytime. Enjoy the rest of your date."

You smiled, watching her leave the dining room.

Your stomach was still in knots and your nerves were going haywire, but you had made up your mind. You were going to visit Joel.

When you got up to talk to Nick and you saw him leaning down on another table to talk to another girl, It was clear he had made up his mind too.

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

Joel strummed his guitar on the front porch, a glass of whiskey sitting beside him. His leftover plate from Ellie was next to him.

He had decided to eat at home instead of eating in the dining room because he couldn't deal with the embarrassment of seeing you again, especially across the table from another man.

So, he ate and played his guitar and drank his whiskey.

It was starting to get dark, and the stars were becoming visible. Joel was trying to focus on the stars instead of thinking about you. But it was hard, especially when he could hear the laughter and conversations going on in town.

He picked his guitar back up and started to strum.

Bell bottom blues, you made me cry

I don't want to lose this feeling

And if I could choose a place to die

It would be in your arms

He continued to sing, closing his eyes and focusing on the song.

I don't want to fade away

Give me one more day, please

I don't want to fade away

In your heart I want to stay

"Nice song."

Joel straightened up and peered out into the darkness. He saw you walking up towards his porch, a shy smile on your face.

"Didn't mean to interrupt." You said, climbing the stairs. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked, even in the dim light. You had your hair down and a thin sweater covering a flowy dress. He could make out the shape of your body and the curves of your breasts, and the way the dress fell at your hips. He cursed himself for noticing and then cursed the fact that his cock stirred when he did.

"You're not." He said, standing up and putting his guitar down. "How was your date?"

You sat down next to him, taking a sip of his whiskey while rolling your eyes.

"Well, he talked a lot. I talked a little. He was rude and didn't ask about me. And I was really distracted."

Joel grunted in acknowledgment and continued to strum as the two of you fell into a warm silence.

"What's the song you're playing?" You asked.

Joel took a deep sigh. He knew once he told you, it was over. He couldn't lie to you.

But fuck It, he'd had some whiskey and it was now or never.

"The song is called 'Bell Bottom Blues', actually."

"Interesting." You mused, leaning back in your chair. "What's the song about?"

Joel stopped strumming. He looked at you, and you were staring at him.

"It's about a guy who has this woman. He knows that they could be great together. She makes him feel happy and good, and everything that a man wants. But the problem is, she doesn't want him."

"Well, that's depressing as shit."

"Yeah." He chuckled, his heart heavy. "It's depressing, but it's also true."

"So, she doesn't love him."

"Right."

"But why doesn't she love him?"

"Because he's old. He's not her type. And he's just a grumpy sonofabitch."

"Who wrote this song?"

"Eric Clapton."

"Well, did this Eric Clapton guy know he wasn't her type or did he just assume she thought he was a grumpy sonofabitch?"

"He assumed."

"Okay. So, maybe the girl is just confused."

"Or maybe she's just not attracted to him."

"I don't know about that. I'd be attracted to a man like that. If he was honest with me and treated me right. That's the important part."

"Yeah, I guess so." Joel replied, his heart racing.

"You guess so? You're an interesting man, Joel Miller."

"I've been told." He smirked, taking another sip of his whiskey. "So, why did you come here?"

You stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, I came here to properly thank you but now that I'm here I think I'll just drink some more of your whiskey and listen to you play more about how wrong this Eric Clapton is."

Joel laughed. He looked at you and saw the warmth radiating from your face. He couldn't believe his luck.

"Whatever the lady wants."

"The lady does indeed want." You beamed, and Joel got up and opened the door inside, leading you in.

"All right, darlin', come on in."

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

After a few more glasses of whiskey, you were feeling warmer and relaxed.

Shyness had gone completely out of the window and you were curled up next to Joel, a blanket over the two of you as he strummed the guitar. You were close enough that his knee was against yours. You could feel the heat between you and it made your head spin.

You leaned into him and rested your head against his shoulder. He smelled so good, and the warmth of his body radiated onto yours.

"I'm glad I'm here." You whispered.

"I'm glad you're here, too."

"Joel...Do you think I'm like the girl in the song?"

Joel paused. He put the guitar down and turned to you.

"Well, first of all, you're not a girl." He whispered, his voice low in your ear. "You're a woman."

You closed your eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

"And secondly, I don't think you're anything like the girl in the song. At least, I hope not."

"I'm not." You assured him, your voice soft.

"Then why did you ask?"

"I just want to make sure you're not writing me off because of a song. I'm not some immature girl. I like the way I feel around you, and I'm not afraid to tell you anymore."

"Anymore, huh?" Joel asked. He moved his hand, placing it on your hand. You could feel the warmth and roughness of his palm. "So, if I were to kiss you, would that scare you away?"

"Not at all." You whispered, turning to him. Your eyes met and you could see the fire behind his. You'd seen that fire before, but never so close.

"Good."

Joel placed his hands on your cheeks and brought his lips to yours. Your body stung with excitement and you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His beard tickled your skin, but the softness of his lips against yours made your body ache. You kissed the open patches in his beard you had daydreamed about kissing and ran your hands through his hair.

There was no chasteness in your kiss, thanks to the whiskey. Instead, you slipped your tongue into Joel's mouth as he groaned.

He pulled back for a moment, staring at you.

"This is not what I thought would happen." He admitted.

"Me neither." You grinned. "Should we stop? What time is Ellie coming home?"

"She's stayin' the night with Dina actually."

"Well, if that's the case. I should really thank you properly for that gift you showed up with."

Joel's eyes lit up.

"I'll accept whatever thank yous you have."

"I bet you will."

You straddled him, looking down at him as he kept his hands safely on your waist. You could tell he was restraining himself, always the gentleman, but you were tired of holding back how you felt.

You kissed him, hard, and bit his lip, eliciting a groan from him.

"Fuck." He growled, his fingers digging into your waist, pulling you down further onto his lap as you felt his hardening cock against you. You grinded down onto him, and fell into a rhythm while you kissed him and he gripped your waist tighter.

You removed your cardigan and Joel's hands instantly moved up your torso, toying with your straps.

"Joel...it's okay." You grabbed his hand and removed your dress straps with him. Your dress fell, revealing your breasts, and Joel's eyes darkened with an intensity he'd only saved for a hunt. You felt like his prey, and it only made you more aroused.

Joel's hand came up, gently cupping your breasts.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful." He murmured, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. The sensation shot right to your pussy and your hips continued to move in reaction.

You started to undo the buttons on his shirt, and he helped, throwing it to the side. You pulled him closer, feeling his hot chest against yours, his muscles tense and his arms around you. You kissed his neck, and his collarbone, and then kissed his chest.

You could hear his heavy breathing as you trailed your hands down his torso and his cock strained against his jeans.

"Joel." You whispered, moving off him to kneel in front of him.

"You don't have to." He said, looking at you with a pained expression. You could tell he was still trying to be a gentleman and hold back, but you were done holding back with how much you wanted him.

"I want to. I want you." You said as you slipped his jeans off. His erection was prominent through his boxers and you could see the wetness at the tip of his cock.

Joel let out a soft groan, watching you take off his boxers. His cock sprang free, and he hissed as the cool air hit him.

You had been guilty of spending nights thinking about what Joel Miller would feel like on top of you, inside you and in your mouth. But nothing could prepare you for the real thing.

His cock was thick, a beautiful length with a slight curve. Precum was leaking from his tip, and you wrapped your hands around his base, stroking him up and down.

"Jesus." Joel groaned. You felt his hand reach out, gently grabbing the back of your head and guiding you closer. You licked the precum off his tip and he moaned.

You licked down his length and then took his cock into your mouth. Joel's breath caught, and his fingers tightened in your hair.

"That feels so good." He said, his voice gravelly and low. You took more of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head and hollowing out your cheeks. Joel's hand pushed down a little harder and he let out a moan.

"Am I bein' too rough?" Joel asked with concern.

You looked up at him with full eye contact, your pupils blown. You started to ease his cock further into your mouth until you could feel his tip at your throat. You stayed there, and then started to move slowly up and down, the pressure from your tongue making Joel gasp.

"Jesus Christ, girl." He whispered, and then he started to push his hips upward, meeting you as you bobbed on his cock. His thrusts became faster, and his breath caught in his throat. You could tell he was getting close and you wanted nothing more than to feel him lose control in your mouth.

Suddenly, Joel's hand left the back of your head, and his cock left your mouth. You looked up at him with a dazed expression and watched as he stood up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin' is wrong." He growled. "Take off your dress and get on the couch."

You got up and slowly peeled off the rest of your clothes, his eyes never left your body. You saw his chest rise and fall with each breath as the two of you stood for a moment, studying each other's naked bodies.

Joel stepped forward and kissed you, hard. His tongue found yours and you tangled together, tasting each other. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him, his cock pushing against you.

"Get on the couch, baby." He ordered, his voice gruff. "Let me fuck you."

You lay down on the couch, spreading your legs. You had been dripping wet since you'd first straddled him, and now, it was dripping down your thighs and you couldn't help but run your fingers through it.

"Fuck. You are so goddamn beautiful." He said, his voice a low grunt. He knelt down and took a finger, running it through your wetness and then pushing it inside of you.

You gasped, the sensation of his thick finger hitting you differently than your own. He pushed a second finger inside of you, feeling an overwhelming stretch.

"You're so fuckin' tight. I gotta make sure you can take me." He said, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and curling them up. You gasped, arching your back as his fingers hit a spot inside of you that you can't normally reach.

You bucked your hips towards him. "I used to dream about what your fingers would feel like inside of me."

"Is that right, baby?" Joel asked. He added a third finger and the pressure was almost unbearable, he moved at a faster pace and the sounds of his fingers pushing in and out of your wetness were filling the room.

"I'm so close." You whined, bucking your hips against him. But he could feel it, he could feel your tightness clenching around his fingers.

He positioned himself quickly to lean in and suck on your clit. It was gentle, and his beard brushed against the skin around it. It was the final thing to send you over the edge, and you came hard.

"Joel." You moaned as you reached your climax, arching your back and riding his fingers. You could feel the wave of pleasure rolling over you as you gripped his hair. He slowed his pace and then pulled his fingers out, wiping his face.

"Did I do okay?" He asked, looking at you, and you saw the softness behind his eyes.

"You did better than okay. Take me to your bedroom?"

Joel nodded, picking you up and carrying you upstairs.

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

Joel laid you down gently on his bed and stood, looking down at you, stroking his cock.

He climbed on top of you and leaned down to kiss you. You could feel his hard cock against your stomach.

"Are you ready, darlin'?" He whispered in your ear, nibbling your lobe.

"Mmm, please." You murmured, lifting your hips towards him.

Joel grabbed his cock and rubbed his head along your wetness. He pushed it inside of you, slowly, and groaned.

"Fuck, you're tight." He muttered, his body stiffening. He eased himself in further, the stretch of his cock was intense, but the feeling of fullness was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

You felt him start to move his hips and you arched your back, taking him deeper as you opened your legs wider.

You could feel him deep inside you, hitting that same spot he'd touched earlier. Your hips bucked against his and the sound of the slapping of his hips against yours echoed in the room.

He was breathing heavily and his eyes were half-closed.

"You're so tight. Jesus Christ, you feel so good." He moaned. "Like you were meant to take my cock."

"I want it all." You whimpered, grabbing his ass to pull him closer. "I want it deep."

"God damn, baby." Joel grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him a better angle to thrust deeper. He slammed into you and the feeling of him against the back of your walls and the way his pubic bone pressed against your clit made you gasp.

"You wanted it deep like this?" He growled, his grip on your thighs tightening, the slapping of your skin and your moans getting louder.

"Yes." You gasped, feeling yourself reaching another climax. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming again."

You felt your walls tighten around his cock, and he moved down to press his thumb on your clit. He pressed and swirled his thumb against you, and the sensation was overwhelming. You came hard, moaning and writhing beneath him.

He slowed his thrusts as you rode out your orgasm.

"Fuck, I can feel you cummin' all over my cock." He murmured, his voice low. "It feels so fuckin' good. It feels so fuckin' good, darlin'. You're gonna make me cum."

His thrusts were becoming sloppy and frantic, and his breathing was coming faster. You were so sensitive and each thrust made your body twitch.

Neither of you had said it but you had both had the desire to have him cum inside you. You wanted to feel all of him and the thought of him filling you with his cum while you looked like a pornstar underneath him turned Joel on more than he'd like to admit.

"Cum in me." You pleaded, and that was enough. Joel's head fell back and he moaned, his body twitching.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He said, slowing his thrusts as his cum dripped down his cock and into you. You could feel him cumming, his cum hot and thick inside of you.

He stayed still for a few moments, the room filled with the sound of the two of you catching your breaths. Then he slowly pulled out, watching as his cum mixed with yours, dripping out of you and onto his sheets.

In one final move, he took two fingers and took your dripping cum to thrust it back inside of you.

You watched him, dazed and exhausted. He got up, panting and dazed and left the room for a few moments. When he returned, he had your clothes in one hand, and a towel and a glass of water in the other.

He placed your clothes on the floor and handed you the water. You gulped it down while he cleaned you off. You winced a bit, feeling the warm washcloth between your legs and Joel looked up at you with concern.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice low.

"Not in a bad way." You grinned.

Joel smirked and lay down next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you. He put an arm around you and pulled you into him.

You rested your head on his chest and ran your fingers along the grooves of his muscles.

"I think this was a better gift than the bell bottoms." You joked.

Joel laughed and kissed the top of your head.

"I don't know, I did go through a raider camp for those jeans. That was pretty heroic and dangerous."

"Yes, Joel Miller, you are a hero in the name of fashion." You yawned, nestling into him. You could hear the steady beating of his heart and felt his chest rising and falling with his breathing.

You closed your eyes and were starting to drift off when Joel's voice brought you back.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for comin' over and doing somethin' I was too chicken shit on doing for a long time."

You smiled.

"Don't worry, I'm here to do the things we're both scared to do. You just have to promise to keep the whiskey and the bell bottoms comin'."

"It's a deal." Joel kissed your head again and pulled you in closer.

You drifted off to sleep, content and safe in Joel's arms. Finally feeling the relief and acceptance of what you had tried to ignore for so long.

And the feeling of Joel's arms around you felt more like home than you could ever imagine.

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