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#if you have no idea what i'm talking about just smile and nod it's fine. and if you do i'm sorry about your childhood lol
zyafics · 2 days
Text
play fake | part eight
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.
You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.
Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 
"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.
"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"
Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.
Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.
"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."
You don't miss the grimace in his tone.
Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"
Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 
"You have nothing to wear."
You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.
There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.
"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."
He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."
"What time is it?"
"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."
He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.
"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."
You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.
"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."
"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."
He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.
"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"
You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.
"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.
“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 
"I could just buy them for you."
Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 
You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 
"But you'd rather steal?"
You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"
He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.
"I only remember you on my lap."
You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 
You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.
"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.
“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”
Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  
"Just for you, sweetheart."
Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.
"I have morning breath."
"We don't have to kiss."
"You have a meeting in less than an hour."
"We'll be quick."
With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"
He chuckles. "I know you now."
You're afraid he truly does.
Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."
Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 
"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.
His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 
"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.
"Rafe." You warn. "The time."
He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"
"You have a meeting soon."
"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."
Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.
"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.
When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"
You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."
"Yeah?"
You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.
Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."
Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."
You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 
"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."
While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 
"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"
She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.
You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.
When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.
Before you realize it's something much worse.
"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.
"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.
"What are you doing here?"
He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."
"I know I'm late—"
"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."
His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.
"I've been busy. Business been slow—"
"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"
With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.
When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"
He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."
He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."
Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.
"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"
He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"
You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."
"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"
You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."
"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"
"Aaron, I—"
"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."
You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."
Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.
With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.
"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."
He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."
You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."
Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.
You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.
You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.
The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.
That's when the real work begins.
Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.
Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.
Only to find a blond.
"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.
You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.
You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"
"I came home and you were gone."
That quiets you.
"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."
Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.
"Say something." He urges.
"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."
You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.
Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.
"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."
You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"
Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.
"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."
Your lips part. "What?"
Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.
Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.
It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.
When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.
"Please."
You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."
His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"
"Yes."
The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.
You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."
"I'll pay for that."
Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.
You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."
"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.
"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."
Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.
Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."
His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."
"Then make me regret it."
You're exactly what he needs.
Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.
Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
You pout. "I'm helping you."
"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 
You nod.
"I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.
Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.
"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.
"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"
You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.
Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.
"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.
"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.
Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.
Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"
"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."
"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"
Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"
You nod, too disoriented to form words.
He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"
The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.
"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.
"Whatever you want." You confess.
Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.
You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.
"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."
He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 
"Do it. I'm ready."
Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"
He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 
The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"
You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."
He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head. "No."
Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.
"You're being such a good girl tonight."
The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.
He grits out. "Don't do that."
"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."
A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"
You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.
Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."
You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.
The lack of silence isn't enough for him.
Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.
He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.
A tit-for-tat. 
One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.
"No."
"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."
He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."
You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.
"Rafe–"
"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."
Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.
You had to give him something.
"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.
Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.
His command is low. "Say that again."
"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."
His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."
When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.
He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.
You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.
"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"
"Come here."
Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."
Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"
"Never of you."
You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"
"Ride me."
"What?"
"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."
You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.
"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."
"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.
You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.
His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."
Determination courses through you.
You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.
Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.
"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.
"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 
When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.
Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.
You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 
You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.
"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.
Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.
He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.
"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."
Your lips part. "What?"
"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."
You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"
He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."
You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."
Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."
Rafe says nothing, watching you.
His heart aches.
You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 
He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 
You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 
“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 
He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 
"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.
"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.
You don't.
"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."
And with that, you fell asleep.
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mpregdimension · 2 days
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I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.
"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.
"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."
I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.
"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.
Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."
Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.
"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."
Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins. 
Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.
My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.
"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."
He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.
I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.
"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."  
A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.
Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?
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howi99 · 3 days
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Ren: ... Someone is approaching!
JNPRR: *readying their weapons*
...
Tyrian: *jumping from one of the houses* Oh? I see i was expected, wasn't i? *Giggle*
Jaune: *eyes flash to brown* Damn it, just what we needed. A psychopath with too much time on his hands. What are you here for? *Point crocea mors at Tyrian*
Tyrian: Aw~ you want to be the one i play with? Too bad! I'm here for the girl. *Point at Ruby* But... You intrigue me. You seem to know of me?
Jaune: *eyes flashing to blue* I have no idea what you are talking about. I don't know who you are, but i can say that you will regret going against u-
Tyrian: *with a lot of agility, goes on the offense, trying to cut Jaune leg, which he blocks with difficulty* Good~ you know how to use that shield of yours.
Ruby: Jaune! *Shoot at Tyrian, who parries each bullet without too much difficulty* Don't be this impatient little one, i'll be here soon~ *leap to Ruby using Jaune shield as a platform to get himself more momentum* Missed me? *Use multiple attack to try disarming Ruby*
Pyrrha: No you won't! *Use her semblance to remove Tyrian weapons from his hand*
Tyrian: *cackling* You think this will help you? *Dodge Nora's attack* Woah there! Almost got my head!
Nora: *gritting her teeth* That's the idea! *While continuing to put pressure on Tyrian, Ruby uses Electric Dust to boost nora* Take that! *Hit him square in the chest, making him fly through the clocktower*
Pyrrha: You got him?
Tyrian: *maniacally laughing* Oh! That's what they call a homerun! *Dash quickly from the tower, kicking Nora in the guts, breaking her aura*
Ren: NORA! *Goes to her, looking if she is alright*
Tyrian: *shrug* Toys aren't as durable as they used to be i see.
Jaune POV
//Use my power//
Jaune: *blinking* What? Wasn't that-
//concentrate and imagine a gust of wind//
Jaune: *panicking* Who are you? What's going on?
//*sigh* Of all the host why must i have gotten a chatty one that i can't switch place with. You have magic. Trust me, point at your ennemis and imagine a guat of wind. Or fire. Or anything that will hurt him. I'll take charge of the difficult part//
Jaune: Your voice, aren't you-
// yes, it's me, Ozpin. Now stop asking questions and save your friend.//
Jaune: ... *Nod, then concentrate on making a ball of fire*
// By the gods, with how much aura you have, you could almost be a mage.//
Return to the fight
Tyrian: *fighting both Pyrrha and Ren by himself* You are good, but you both are still lacking in technique and bloodlust!
Jaune: *opening his eyes* FIRE!
*a ball of fire around the size of a basketball goes straight to Tyrian face*
Tyrian: *jumping out of the blast trajectory* Well well well! I even found you at the same time!
Jaune: *panting like if he ran 5 miles* That *huff* was *huff* really hard!
// well, i did just wake up. It's difficult to transform aura into magic, you know!? Gee... Anyway, you should dodge//
Jaune: What? *Sees Tyrian stinger going straight for his throat* OH GOD! *Deflect the stinger away clumsily with a shield bash*
Tyrian: *smiling* Now what should i do? Should i take the girl? Or the ghost?
Qrow: *descending from the sky, attacking Tyrian with his scythe* How about neither, pal?
Tyrian: *dodging with a somersault* Hm... Maybe i should get serious? I am disarmed and now the crow has finally shown himself.
Qrow: Kids! Leave the area! I'll take him on!
Ruby: Uncle Qrow!
Qrow: *turning to Ruby* Now!
//He does have a point, you all are keeping him down and it would be wiser to leave for now//
Jaune: *nods* Let's go team! You heard him!
NPR: *nods at Jaune*
Ruby: But he needs our-
Qrow: *still attacking and dodging Tyrian* I can't fight at my best with you here! Go, now!
//He needs to be alone to use his semblance against an enemy//
Jaune: Ruby! Believe in your uncle damn it!
Ruby: ... Fine.
__________
Qrow: *rejoining team JNPRR* He got away. But he shouldn't be going against us for now.
_NPRR: *looking intensely at Qrow*
Jaune: ... Hey, you old sack of feathers, when i was recovering, it didn't come to you it would be nice to tell me i had a ghost in me!?
Qrow: *Wincing* To be fair, i didn't know how to tell you the information.
Nora: And you didn't tell us he could use magic!
Qrow: ... No, that's news to me too.
Jaune: *sigh* the voice in my head is telling me it shouldn't be possible, but with how much aura i have and my semblance-
Ren: You discovered your semblance?
Jaune: *shake his head* Apparently it regenerated my aura so we are assuming here.
Pyrrha: Go on.
Jaune: Well, basically Ozpin can channel his magic through my aura, making it far more potent than it would normally be.
Qrow: ... Does that mean-
Jaune: Before you ask, yes, that apparently makes me like one of the maidens.
________
My first try at putting more action in a scene, though i did cut the fight in the middle since there wasn't going to be much dialogue and i'm not the best at representing a scene, so multiple would be hard af lol.
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wordsarelife · 11 hours
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞
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pairing: theo nott x fem!reader
summary: you agree to theo’s ask, on your on terms, and the tension continues to rise
warnings: height difference mentioned, i have zero idea how to play a guitar or how hard certain songs are to play so just act like anything i say is the truth haha
notes: i really love them so much! i haven’t been inspired by writing in such a long time! i hope you like it as much as i do!!
you had wiped away the tears as soon as you had walked out of the hospital, straightening your back and thinking about which direction would be smarter to walk in.
you would come home no matter what, this small town was basically a circle, it was just the question of which way would be faster. you weren't keen on walking longer than necessary.
"forgot the way home?" a voice beside you made your head turn.
"what do you want?" you asked annoyed as you saw theo walk closer to you "i'm leaving, okay? you don't have to try to get rid of me anymore"
"pixie, i didn't mean it like that" he sighed and tried to touch your arm, but you turned your body away from him.
"i know exactly how you meant that" you protested "and i don't know what you still want now. you won, okay? you won ages ago, but you're the one who always picks a fight"
"pixie" theo muttered and you could hear the regret in his voice.
"don't call me that"
"y/n" he said and you looked up in surprise. you couldn't remember when your name had last left his mouth. "i'm sorry"
you raised your eyebrows. "you're sorry?" you repeated, almost laughing. "i don't think i ever heard you say that before"
you wanted to go home, so you just decided on a random direction and started walking, to your luck, theo was following you.
"okay, get to the point, nott" you demanded "what do you want from me?"
theo sighed once again, understanding that there was no way he could trick you into agreeing, he just had to ask. "i need your help, i mean, we need your help"
"you need my help?" you repeated skeptically. "is that one of your awful pranks again?"
"no" theo shook his head. "i promise it's not"
"okay, then lets hear what you need"
"enzo can't play the concert"
"i know as much"
"yeah, sorry" theo brushed a hand through his hair, unsure how he should ask you.
"there is that word again" you pointed a finger to his face. he gently pushed your hand away. "i could get used to this"
"yeah, don't flatter yourself" theo mumbled aggravated.
"there he is" you laughed sarcastically.
"we need a guitarist" theo came straight to the point "april says you play.." he paused, unsure how to finish his sentence "good"
"you want me to play guitar for you?"
"not for me" theo tried to rephrase it "for the band, the boys"
"why should i do that?"
"i know you hate me, pixie. but you don't hate them, do you?" he almost sounded like he was pleading.
"thanks to you i'm not really friends with them anymore, theo" you remarked bitterly "they were my friends just as much as yours and they still sided with you"
"it's my fault, okay?" theo said helplessly "is it that what you want to hear? that i was childish enough to poison your relationships?"
"that's just it, theo" you shook your head "i don't want to hear anything from you anymore, but you keep on talking, keep on writing songs. why can't you let go of things?"
"you know i need to write to cope"
"yeah, i know" you nodded your head "but anytime i hear one of your stupid songs it physically hurts. you might be able to cope through your writing, but i will never be able to do that"
"it's one song, pixie" theo rolled his eyes.
"so you admit that you wrote pixie dream girl about me?"
"that's not the point" theo argued.
"oh, yes it is" you laughed, while you quickened your steps, so theo had it harder to keep up with you, even if he was taller.
"okay, fine" theo sighed "pixie dream girl is about you"
"i know" you smiled "what about daddy issues?"
theo send you a painful look, almost as if you were torturing him with your question.
"do you want me to play guitar or not?"
"daddy issues is about you too" he finally muttered.
"thank you. now, was that so hard?"
theo send you a look. “will you help us?”
"i'll think about it" you patted theo's shoulder, before you continued walking away. he thankfully caught the hint and stayed where he was.
"not too long" he called behind you and you just raised your hand, showing him your middle finger.
theo ran into april when he walked back to enzo's room.
"you're leaving already?" he asked surprised.
"yeah" april shrugged "i want to look after y/n and enzo's coming out this evening, i'll come back to his then"
"okay"
"what did she say?"
"she'll think about it"
"she didn't say no?" april wondered and theo shook his head "huh, i thought she would, after everything.." she shook her head, as if to get rid of that thought "you should feel lucky, theo"
"i do" he quickly nodded. "see you, april"
"bye, theo"
you were staring at the ceiling as the sudden sound of the door made you look up.
"hey" april smiled, as she closed your door behind her "your mum let me in"
"did she get up for once" you nodded with fake impress.
"y/n" april sighed and you could hear the pity in her voice.
"don't" you shook your head and effectively shut her up "how's enzo? how much longer does he have to stay in the hospital?"
"he's coming home tonight" she let herself fall on the chair in the corner of your room. "maybe you want to come and visit him with me later?"
"after everything that happened today? i'll pass, but thank you"
"enzo promised that it'll be just him and mattheo"
you sighed "i'll think about it"
"i really see no reason why you and the rest of the boys just can't stay friends, y/n"
"theo is the reason we can't" you noted "i think it's better for all of us if we keep a distance between us"
"that's gonna be hard if you play for his band"
you sighed deeply "you're in on this too?"
"actually it was enzo's and my idea" she admitted as she looked anywhere but you "you're the only one who is as good as him and you're able to play most of the notes"
"yeah" you sank back down "but i don't know if i really want to. i mean theo is still theo, he can try to be nice all he wants, but he will never get out of his skin"
"the rest of the boys will make sure that he behaves himself" april promised "mattheo told me himself"
"mattheo told me the same today and you know how it ended"
"sometimes you two are a real mystery to me" she muttered "you know each other so well, well enough to know which buttons to push. he can make you cry with only a few words, it's scary"
"you said it" you pointed your hand in her direction "he never knows when it's enough"
"and you do?" she laughed "you're just as bad as him. you should've seen the look in his eyes as soon as you left the room. it's like you both can't be with or without the other"
"i don't know what you're talking about" you shook your head.
"you always say that you just want him to stop speaking to you, but i can see how much you enjoy these discussions, even if you're just fighting. you missed him and this is the only way you can spend time with him"
"that's not true, april"
"yes it is, sweetheart" april said softly "why don't you just tell him that you miss being his friend? everything could just go back to normal, if just one of you makes the first step"
"it's not as easy" you argued "too much happened, things you don't know, things i can't speak about. it's too late to rekindle anything"
"y/n, if it's about le-"
"please just let it go"
"okay" she nodded, accepting your wish "but what are you going to do? will you help them?"
"yes" you nodded "i mean the rest of the boys didn't do anything, right? and i don't want to poision your and enzo's relationship before it even began"
april smiled while her cheeks turned bright red "i hate you" she laughed and you just shrugged, before you stood up from the bed and took the blog, writing a message for theo.
i'll do it. but only under certain conditions. mattheo will receive the list later
"happy?" you asked april, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"yes" she giggled "now let's sort out your conditions"
it didn't take you long to come up with the things that had to change for you to start helping them. april had, surprisingly, a few ideas herself, (april is allowed to watch the rehearsals), making your list three points long.
you accompanied her later to visit enzo, which was, admittedly, a bit unnecessary considering she had already visited him in the hospital, but it seemed like both her and enzo deemed it important for his survival.
luckily, april had been right. it had only been enzo and mattheo. they both were smiling widely as you told them that you would help. enzo promised you to be there for every rehearsal (let alone because april would be) to help you learn the songs the way he played them.
mattheo seemed to enjoy the way you were nicer to him when theo wasn't around. you had always liked him, he was easy to get along with, but the last year you had learned not to enjoy his teasing and joking personality. you apologized for the day before, realizing that you had been quite harsh and that he really thought you would find the song funny.
maybe you would’ve had, but a lot had changed and mattheo understood that you couldn't find humour in it right now.
they promised to show your list to the rest of the band and tell you in school how and when rehearsals would start.
april and you left after two hours and you could tell she was beaming. in her opinion, playing in the band meant that all of you would be friends again and the hope alone was enough for her.
"here it is" mattheo held the folded piece of paper in theo's direction.
"be honest, mate" theo said "is it manageable?"
"it is" enzo said. he was sitting on the stone wall in the middle of draco and blaise. mattheo was standing next to theo in front of them.
"okay" theo sighed, before he unfolded the paper. "y/n's conditions under which she will safe theo's petty little-" he held the paper in mattheo's direction "i'm not reading this"
mattheo giggled, before he cleared his throat as soon as theo send him a look. "y/n's conditions under which she will safe theo's petty little-"
"you can skip the beginning" theo interrupted "just get to the point"
"fine" mattheo rolled his eyes "rule one: april is allowed to watch the rehearsals"
"yeah, fine, whatever" theo nodded, while enzo was practically jumping up and down. "anyone has a problem with that?" the three other shook their heads and mattheo continued reading.
"rule two: theo is civil”
“can you do that?” enzo wanted to know and theo nodded reluctantly.
“okay and the final rule: we can’t play pixie dream girl”
“sounds alright” blaise shrugged.
“what do you say theo?” draco asked as he noticed the priors facial expression.
“we can’t do the third one” theo explained between clenched teeth.
“what?” enzo asked “why not?”
“when i talked to mr fraser on the phone i showed it to him and he made me promise that it’s one of the tracks we play”
“okay” mattheo shrugged “then you just call him and tell him that we can’t play it”
“he said it’s important that we play it because it’ll impress his boss. we got many streams on the song and it’ll make us stand out against the other bands”
“fuck” draco jumped from the stone wall. “can’t you find a way to play?”
“yeah” enzo shrugged "i'll just play with my feet, no problem, draco”
“let’s all calm down” blaise said, trying to diffuse the situation.
"it's seems important to her that we don't play the song" enzo remarked.
"yeah" mattheo muttered.
"okay, what if we just not tell her? i mean six weeks is a long time, maybe she'll say yes when we ask her later?" blaise suggested.
"that might not be the worst idea" mattheo nodded "maybe if we'll be able to be friends again, she might play the song"
"it's worth a try, right?" draco asked in theo's direction.
"i don't know" enzo shook his head "she will absolutely hate us when she finds out we lied to her. she'll feel betrayed"
"it's just a song" draco crossed his arms "what's her problem?"
"i am" theo shrugged "and the song reminds her of that. fuck" he groaned.
"what do we do, boss?" mattheo asked "do we lie to her? she might understand it once we tell her it was our only chance"
"i tell her we accept her rules" theo nodded as he gripped the paper from mattheo "not one word from any of you, you hear me? this is our only chance to get that stupid record deal and if it means to work with the enemy we will do that"
"the enemy" mattheo rolled his eyes "you're getting dramatic again, theodore"
"you know what i mean"
before anyone could agree to his terms, april and you walked up behind the boys.
"hey" april greeted and immediately stepped into the emptys space next to enzo where draco had sat.
"hi" you said, a lot less happy "how does it look?"
"we accept your rules" theo nodded "rehearsals are every tuesday, thursday and saturday at five. we have to rehearse a lot if we want that record deal"
"great" you nodded "how much time will we have on stage?"
"fourty-five minutes" theo answered "i'd say we try to rehearse all ten songs before we decide on those that we want to play"
"not including pixie dream girl, right?"
"right" he nodded.
"great" you smiled "then we have a deal" you held your hand in his direction, so you could finalize everything with a handshake.
"yes" theo nodded "do you have a guitar or do you need enzo's?"
"i have one" you nodded, before you excused yourself, so you would be on time for your first class of the day.
the next time that you saw all of them was during the first official rehearsal on saturday. you had spent the entire friday searching for old notes forba few of the songs that you still owned somewhere. theo had given you the missing ones when you had stood in front of his door in the evening and you had tried to play as much as possible and it was admittedly not working bad.
"hey" you greeted the boys when april and you walked into the garage. april slumped down on the couch next to enzo as if someone had held a gun in her direction and you looked between draco and blaise. "where should i stand?"
blaise directed you to the empty space next to the microphone stand.
"where are matt and theo?" april asked and you perked up. you would have rather died than asked yourself, but you were still wondering.
"they're on their way" draco answered "mattheo made a few cds to hand out to people and they are getting them right now"
"cool" april nodded impressed.
"you're only now making cds?" you asked surprised "isn't that like one of the first things bands normally do?”
"generally, yeah" enzo nodded "but in a time like this, most people only listen on streaming platforms so we never really saw the need for it"
"now that we're getting more known, it's more professional" blaise added.
"okay" you nodded "i get it"
"bonjourno" mattheo waved as soon as him and theo entered the room a few minutes later.
"french?" enzo wondered.
"that's italian, sweetheart" you could hear april mutter next to him. you giggled into your hand as you noticed the lovesick look enzo was now sending in her direction.
"you're so smart, april"
"are you ready?" theo asked you, once he took his stance behind the microphone.
"sure" you shrugged, before you took the guitar and plugged it in.
"we'll start with blood//water. the notes should be relatively easy to play"
theo counted and pointed in your direction as soon as it was time for the guitar part to set in. just shortly after, theo began singing. you of course had heard him sing before. you had listened to the songs, but you had never heard him so clear, so raw.
we'll never get free lamb to the slaughter what you gon' do when there's blood in the water? the price of your greed is your son and your daughter what you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
you switched your fingers, picking up the pace of the melody as soon as the pre-chorus set in again. mattheo was changing between playing the bass and clapping his hands. draco was making quick movements on the keyboard, changing the setting to let it make different sound effects and blaise was hitting the drums so hard, your ears almost blew off.
but despite all that you could only focus on theo and the sound of his voice. the way it looked so effortless and hard at the same time. as the pre-chorus ended and the chorus set in, he was full on screaming into the microphone, the veins on his neck showing the strength his voice was using.
i am the people, i am the storm i am the riot, i am the swarm when the last tree's fallen the animal can't hide money won't solve it what's your alibi? what's your alibi? what's your alibi?
when there's blood in the water
when the song ended, april began to clap. "that was amazing!" she complimented "blood//water is my favorite song on the album"
"thank you" mattheo smiled "you were really great, y/n"
"thanks" you nodded "i think this one is one of the easier chord compressions"
"the next song would be daddy issues" theo looked in your direction expectingly.
"do we have to play that one?" you asked "i mean it's so slow and you won't probably play it anyway"
"she has a point" mattheo shrugged.
"i think we should play all the songs" theo argued "so that we can change the setlist until the last minute"
"good point" blaise nodded.
"come on, guys" enzo, who saw the discomfort on your face added "y/n is right, it's way too slow"
"boss?" mattheo looked to theo.
"we should at least play it this once" you sighed as you noticed that theo wasn't going to budge.
"okay" mattheo nodded "you ready? i think the chords are quite easy for this one too"
you were looking straight across the room, but nodded at his words.
theo counted again and you started playing the chords on the paper in front of you. maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought. you would just have to concentrate and blend out theo as much as possible.
take you like a drug i taste you on my tongue
theo's voice almost made you shiver. you moved your fingers along the guitar.
and you might have to tell me again it's crazy what you'll do for a friend
you had listened to the song about a million times after it had come out, but now it was like you were hearing it for the first time. and the softness in theo's voice was going to break your heart, you were sure.
you didn't know if the rest of the boys knew the song was about. you were guessing that only enzo was slowly getting the idea, as he was the only one who had noticed how uncomfortable you had gotten once theo mentioned it.
you doubted that the others new. theo wasn't one to run around and tell everyone what the meaning behind his songs were. you were sure they knew only half the things theo knew and you were glad for that.
go ahead and cry, little girl nobody does it like you do i know how much it matters to you i know that you got daddy issues
you thought back to days in the backyard of your house. how theo came climbing up into the treehouse and would just sit next to you for hours.
when you felt brave you would cry in his lap, but sometimes you weren't able to and theo understood you in a way that no one else did.
he had brushed your hair aside, whispering about the future, wonderland, something that did not sound like it could be real, at least not to you.
he told stories about a world in which your dad was better. a world in which he loved you as much as you loved him, as much as he loved-
go ahead and cry, little boy you know that your daddy did too you know what your mama went through you gotta let it out soon, just let it out
maybe there had been a time where he hadn't planned to use that song against you. a time where he wanted to show it to you so it could console you and your pain. now it just felt like ammunition in an ongoing war.
you were still staring at the wall across from you as a few tears slipped over your cheeks.
and if you were my little girl i'd do whatever I could do i'd run away and hide with you i know that you got daddy issues
you took off the guitar as soon as the song had ended, breathing a shaky breath. "could we take a break?" you asked theo, who, if you weren't mistaken, looked a bit guilty now that he saw the look on your face.
"sure" mattheo answered, while theo continued to stare at you. "are you alright?" he touched your shoulder and it took everything in you not to start full on crying at the gentleness in his voice.
"let's sit down" draco sighed.
"do you want to see the cd?" mattheo smiled and you nodded as you quickly wiped over your eyes.
he held it in your direction and you smiled as you recognized the cover that they had used on spotify. "it looks amazing"
"turn it around" mattheo advised and you did as you were told.
your breath hitched as you saw the photo on the back.
theo cleared his throat at the lack of reaction from you "that's"
"leo" you finished "i know" your fingers gently moved over the boys back. you recognized the white shirt, the black trousers and the bracelet on his left arm. you were wearing a matching one.
"the photo is from last year" mattheo explained "from when theo and leo wrote most of the songs. i thought it would be the perfect one to show who we are"
"it is" you nodded "thank you" you looked up at mattheo and he gulped as he noticed the tears in your eyes. you held the cd in his direction before you stood up. "i need a breath of fresh air"
you walked out of the garage and sat down on the bench in front of the lake. you sat there for ten minutes before you decided it was time to return back inside. 
mattheo had told his friends to settle down and end the rehearsal for today, much to theo's dismay, who basically tried to kill you with his eyes when you came back inside. 
"i don't get why we have to stop" theo muttered "we only got through two songs. what got your knickers in a twist, huh?" he turned his head to look at you, but instead of rushing away, you returned his angry look. 
"you" you said with a roll of your eyes "the rule was to be civil and you're acting like an idiot, theodore" 
theo laughed at that and you were even more angry. 
"fuck you, mr rockstar" you held up your middle finger. 
"i'd love to see you try, miss stuck up" 
you looked at april betrayed when you heard her giggle. 
"even your friend agrees with me" your head snapped to the side. 
you stepped closer to the boy, until you were only a few centimeters apart. the others watched you with big eyes. "do you want to repeat that, darling?"
you could see theo gulp at the proximity, before he quickly caught himself and smirked down at you. "are you trying to kiss me, baby?" 
"no, but seems like you are thinking about kissing me, sweetheart"
mattheo sighed loudly and both you and theo turned your heads, only realizing now that you were the center of attention. 
"that was kinda hot" blaise muttered under his breath and was immediately elbowed by draco, who did not take his eyes off of theo and you. 
"shut up" theo said quickly and you had the sudden need to defend blaise, just because it would get a rise out of theo. 
"seems like your friend agrees with me" you crossed your arms and smiled provocatively "you totally have the hots for me" 
"i hate you"
"finally something we can agree on" you grinned, before you turned around and grabbed your bag. "bye" 
the rest of the group said goodbye while they were still astounished at how you had basically won a fight against theo. 
"oh shut up" theo said quickly, when you had left the room and blaise opened his mouth. 
taglist:
@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101
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michaeljoncarter · 5 months
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ya joking about kentuckystroke is funny and all, but if we can be really for real for a second, drawing a connection between slade's character and the very specific cultural weirdnesses & religious... issues of rural appalachia is one of the most big-brained ideas in the history of comic books
it's only directly addressed like once & the rest of the time, it's just in subtle little references to a religious upbringing, but it's such an insanely perfect fit that all those disparate character traits i could just never really manage to find believable because there was no clear through-line or reason for any of it instantly added up like the second that fool started quoting the kjv from memory, everything about him suddenly made perfect sense
his weirdass "code" & completely amoral outlook on life has nothing to do with his brain being fried by being used as a human lab rat or as a way to rationalize murdering people for a living or whatever. that's literally just what growing up baptist does to a dude
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gracieheartspedro · 6 months
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Who We Are
Tumblr media
pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller
description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.
word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.
author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!
“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 
You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 
“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 
Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.
“Well good, keeps you busy.”
You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.
Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 
You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 
Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 
“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”
His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 
“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 
You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 
When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 
“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 
“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.
“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”
Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”
Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 
So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 
You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 
You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 
Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 
“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 
You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 
-
You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 
When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.
But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 
“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”
You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 
“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 
“Just weak.”
Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 
When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 
“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”
She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”
“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 
Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 
She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 
“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 
“Always is, kiddo.”
-
The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 
It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 
But for now, you should get some rest. 
Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 
You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 
You need to remind the council of all your father does. 
You need him to get better. 
You need him. 
-
“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 
You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”
Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 
“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”
“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”
“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”
Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 
“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”
Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 
“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”
You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 
You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 
“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”
“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 
“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”
“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 
Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”
Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 
You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 
He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”
Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”
He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 
It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.
“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.
He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”
You didn’t even think that far. 
“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”
You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 
“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 
“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”
“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”
-
Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 
As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 
He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 
You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 
Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 
“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”
“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”
You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  
“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”
It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”
His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 
“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”
“Roger that, kiddo.”
-
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 
He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 
“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”
Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 
Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.
You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 
Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 
“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”
He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 
“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”
-
“How is Ellie doing?”
You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 
He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”
You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 
“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”
Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 
“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”
You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 
“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”
He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”
You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 
Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 
“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”
But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 
The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 
You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 
“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 
Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”
That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 
He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 
“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 
He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”
You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 
“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”
You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”
You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”
-
You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 
“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.
“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 
He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 
You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 
“Is this yours?”
He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”
You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 
You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 
That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 
“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”
How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 
You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”
-
Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.
He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 
When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 
“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”
He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”
You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 
“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”
You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 
“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”
He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 
You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”
He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 
“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”
You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 
He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 
“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”
You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”
-
You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 
“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 
“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”
You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”
You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 
You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 
Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 
Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 
After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 
He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 
You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 
He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 
It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 
-
The second day starts off a bit rough. 
When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.
You are panting like you just ran a mile. 
“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”
“You were sleeping!”
“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 
You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”
He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”
After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 
You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 
When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 
-
When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 
“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 
You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 
He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 
“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 
“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”
“I cannot wait.”
The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 
“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”
He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 
-
He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 
He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 
He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?
He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.
“You okay, Joel?”
You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 
“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”
You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 
You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 
You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 
Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 
“Can I help you?”
You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”
He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”
“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”
You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 
Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 
“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”
-
The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 
Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 
“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”
“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 
“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”
“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”
You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”
He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.
He wanted to keep looking. 
“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 
You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 
“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”
Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 
“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”
You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”
-
You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 
You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 
“When was the last time you were here?”
He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 
“Over a year ago.”
You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”
You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.
“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?
It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 
You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”
“Who?”
“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 
“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 
You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 
You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 
You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 
Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 
“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 
You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”
“What do ya’ mean?”
You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 
“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”
He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”
The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 
“Right, of course.”
-
When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 
You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 
To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 
You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 
“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”
You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 
“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 
You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 
levofloxacin 
amoxicillin
“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”
He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”
You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 
You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”
“Yeah, right behind you.”
Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 
You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 
Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 
It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 
You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 
“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”
You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 
“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”
Then you hear it. 
Click. Click. Click. 
Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 
Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 
You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 
She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 
You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 
You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 
“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 
You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 
You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 
“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”
You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 
When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 
“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”
You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 
He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 
“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 
“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 
“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”
He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”
“Why not?”
Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 
Right?
“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”
You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”
-
It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 
When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 
You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 
You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 
When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 
“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 
“You all clean?”
You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”
He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”
“Use mine.”
Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”
“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”
He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”
You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 
“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”
He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”
Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 
He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”
-
Joel can not do this. 
You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?
You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 
Why were you doing this to yourself?
Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”
He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 
“We can’t.”
You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”
You two know better. You know better. You know better. 
You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 
It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 
“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 
Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”
His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 
He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 
“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 
“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”
He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”
It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 
But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 
This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 
He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”
You can’t help but giggle a bit. 
“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”
It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.
“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”
He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 
As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 
“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 
“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”
He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 
“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”
You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 
You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 
When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 
“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 
Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 
“Joel, what are you doing?”
You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”
Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 
You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 
Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 
When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 
“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 
When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 
“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 
“Joel, please.”
He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”
You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 
“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 
“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”
When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 
“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 
You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 
“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”
Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.
“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”
The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 
As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.
The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 
“Yes, Joel!��
His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 
The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 
“Shit.”
You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 
“I came inside you.”
You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”
He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 
Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 
You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 
Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 
“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 
“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”
You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 
-
When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 
You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 
Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 
“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”
All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”
“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”
You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 
“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”
He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 
“Yeah, we are all set.”
Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 
He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 
“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 
And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 
-
You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 
Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 
The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 
You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 
“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”
He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 
“What do you mean?”
You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 
“Tell them what?”
He has to be messing, right? You think. 
But no, he’s deadly serious. 
“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 
“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”
If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”
“No, it’s not like that-”
“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”
-
When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 
You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 
The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 
A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 
When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 
“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”
You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 
“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”
You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 
“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 
You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 
Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 
As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 
-
Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 
“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”
“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”
“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”
“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”
“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”
He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 
“You won’t what, Joel?”
He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 
“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 
“What?”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 
“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”
Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”
“Joel-”
“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”
-
Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 
You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 
For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 
You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 
“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”
She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”
Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”
Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 
“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 
Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 
You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 
“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”
“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”
Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 
You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 
“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 
It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 
He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 
“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 
The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 
“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”
You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 
“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”
“Baby-”
“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”
Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 
“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”
He can’t let you make this mistake. 
But you’re not easing up. 
“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 
“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”
You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 
Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 
You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 
“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”
You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 
“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”
Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 
You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.
“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 
When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”
The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 
“Yeah?”
You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 
“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”
Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 
“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”
“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 
The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 
Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 
“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 
“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”
“Dad-“
“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”
You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 
“Sorry?”
Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 
Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”
“Dad, he’s not dum-“
“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”
You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?
Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 
He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 
“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“
“I’m a dead man.”
Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 
“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”
You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”
Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 
You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 
And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 
“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 
You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 
“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 
You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.
THE END
or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:
No One Fucks With My Baby
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gotham-daydreams · 8 months
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd part here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 6 months
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{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }
"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.
"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.
"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.
Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.
He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.
Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.
"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.
"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.
"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.
"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.
"On three."
"One."
"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.
Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.
"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.
"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.
It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.
Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.
"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.
"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.
"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.
"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.
"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.
"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.
"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.
"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.
"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.
"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.
"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.
"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.
"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.
"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.
"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.
"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.
"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.
"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.
"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.
"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.
"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.
"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.
"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.
"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.
"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.
"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.
"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.
"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.
"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.
"And you."
It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.
"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.
The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.
"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.
-
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( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )
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harrysfolklore · 3 months
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hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb
that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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The night had been one for the books.
Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.
He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.
Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.
Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.
"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.
"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"
Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.
It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.
"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."
"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."
"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."
The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.
"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."
Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.
Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.
You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.
And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.
And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.
“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.
“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.
Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.
"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.
"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.
"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”
You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.
"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"
You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.
"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."
The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.
"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."
Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.
"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.
"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."
The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.
"Home it is, then."
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bleedingoptimism · 3 months
Text
As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.
A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.
“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.
“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 
The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”
Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”
Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,
“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.
Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”
“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.
“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,
“I do. You want help?” 
Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.
“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”
“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.
“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.
“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.
“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.
Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”
“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.
After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.
When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.
“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 
“Really?” Steve asks surprised.
“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 
Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.
“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.
“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”
Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.
“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 
Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 
Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.
He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.
Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.
Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.
In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.
“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”
They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.
By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 
“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.
“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.
“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.
“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,
“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”
“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.
“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 
“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.
“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.
“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.
“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.
The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.
“Uhm…hi” 
It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.
“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.
Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.
Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.
Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,
“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.
Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 
“Of course not,” he says.
“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.
“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.
“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.
Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.
Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 
Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.
“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.
Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.
He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.
Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 
“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”
e͟n͟d͟
a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: anon request - "Can u make a colby one where him y/n Kat and Sam are live and y/n and Colby are drunk it can be fluff or smut Idc"
Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, heavy flirting, sexual innuendos, sexual tension between reader and Colby, drunk actions, fluff with a dash of filth containing fingering, handjob, sensual stuff but hottt
Word count: 4.9k | somewhat edited I don’t really know if I like this one all that much… I might rewrite it after I get more requests out.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"I can't believe you talked me into doing this." You look at Kat in your mirror as you rummage through your clothes.
She laughs, "Oh come on. There will be alcohol so you can just relax, drink and hang out."
"You had me at alcohol." You laugh and hold your a top, "Hows this?" She tilts her head and purses her lips, "mm. It's cute, but I think you need something different."
"Is that what you're wearing?" You point to her outfit and she nods, "Yes." You hold your hand up, "Hang on."
You walk out to your living room, grabbing a box of clothes that you got sent, "There might be something.." you dump the box, ".. in here."
"Oh yeah. Most definitely." Kat nods with a laugh as she goes through the clothes, "Ooh, this. Definitely this."
Your eyes move over the black, lacey tank top that's in her hands, "A cute skirt or a pair of jeans will make this so much better." She adds and tosses it to you.
You catch it and nod, "I'll try it on."
"Well hurry up, we have to be at Sam and Colby's in the next hour." She lays back, scrolling on her phone as you change.
"Did you say Colby?" You walk out slowly and she smiles up at you, "I did.."
"He's doing this livestream with us?" You fix the tank top so it sits right, "Is this some sort of set up by you and Sam?"
She sits up with a sigh, "You got us." She raises her hands, "I think it'll be fun. Plus we'll be live, so it's not like anything crazy can happen.
You drop your hands and they slam on your thighs, "have you seen your livestreams?"
She holds her hands up, "it wasn't my idea. It was Sam's." You scoff, trying not to laugh, "But you went with it."
"If it makes you feel any better, it'll be just you and me at first. Sam offered for him and Colby to join us once they got back from meeting someone about a place they're going next week. Also. Speaking of. We're going with them."
You groan and turn to look in the mirror, "Fine." You smirk at her in the mirror, "But only because you're going."
"Whatever you say, y/n." She rolls her eyes and laughs, "Now come on. We gotta get going. I tweeted that we'll be on by six and it's almost five thirty."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Ready?" Kat looks over at you and you fix yourself in the screen of the computer, "Okay, yes now I'm ready."
You lean back in your chair and watch as she starts, waiting for people to join, "Hi guys! How are you?"
"Hey!" You smile and hold up your hand, reading the comments that are starting to flow in, "Oh thanks. Kat actually dressed me tonight. So tell her."
You laugh and look over at her. She smiles, "Yeah, I'll take credit for that because you look.." she licks the tip of her finger and lays it on your arm, "Tsss."
You laugh as she makes a sizzling sound, "I do. I do."
"Alright. So Sam and Colby will be joining us a little later, but for right now. I figured y/n and I could start off with a little game."
"Oh god." You mumble and watch as she puts a bottle of alcohol and two shot glasses on the stand in front of you two, "Oh no." You laugh and look over at her, "What game do you have planned?"
"Just a little.. do or drink." She smirks, "Nothing bad I promise." She pulls out a small box containing cards and opens it, "Alright. You want to go first?"
You sigh, "You know what? I will." You laugh and pull out a card, "Hmm. Okay." You turn to her in your chair and look up at her, "what is one thing.. you dislike about me?"
"Oh gosh." She blinks as she thinks for a moment, "Honestly, I hate the way that you can just roll out of bed and look good."
You smile and bat the air, "Stop it."
She laughs, "I'm serious. You're just that pretty."
"Well thank you." You laugh slightly and motion towards the box, "Pick your poison."
She reaches up, picking one of the cards, "Ooh my god." She giggles and lays the card over her lips. You lean forward, "Oh no. What is it?"
She smirks, "Send 'can't wait to see you' to the last person you texted or drink."
You pull your phone out, and go to your messages, looking at the threads, "The last person I texted was.." you laugh slightly, "Katrina."
"Who is it?" She wheels herself over and leans around to look at your phone, "Oh. You have to. You freaking have to, y/n."
You bite your lip as you tap on Colby's name, Can't wait to see you.
You lean forward after locking your phone and read the comments on the screen, "Sorry guys. That's a secret." You laugh and lean back, looking up at Kat when your phone goes off.
She motions for you to read it and you can't help but laugh, "They said, are you and Kat playing that stupid drinking game?" You shake your head as you type back, maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm excited to see you.
"Y/n. Damn. You're not even drunk yet." Kat looks at you shocked and you shrug, "Oops." You smile and reach up to pull a card, "Name a couple that you think should break up."
Without any hesitation she pours a shot, "I cant pick just one.." she laughs and takes the shot, instantly chasing it with her water, "Oh gross."
She grabs another card and smirks, "Y/n."
You tilt your head, "Kat."
"Out of.. let's say, me, Sam, and Colby, who is your favorite?" She smirks and you sigh, "I know I'm going to hurt feelings with this one.." you pause and look into the camera then back to Kat, "..pour me a shot."
"Are you not going to answer?" She laughs and you shake your head, "No because it'll hurt their feelings when I say you." You laugh and she throws her head back laughing, "Oh my god. That's great."
You read the comments and see that people are debating on whether it's Colby, even from the previous question.
"Oh god." You groan and take your shot, cringing at the taste, "That's so gross."
She leans in, whispering quietly, "We're you going to say Colby?" You smirk and lean back, looking at her as you nod.
"Ha. I know who her favorite is." She says in a sing song-y tone before she laughs, "It's still me."
You laugh and grab a card, "Katrina. Who was the last person that seen you cry?"
"Like, a sad cry or happy cry?" She asks and you shrug, "Just in general I think." She hums, "Probably... Sam, I think. Or you. I'm with you both so much."
"We might as well just live together at this point." You laugh and she nods, "Honestly. Okay.." she grabs a card and clears her throat, "Have you ever been to a strip club?"
"Like working or visiting?" You try to not smile but fail, "I'm joking you guys. Relax. No I haven't ever been to a strip club."
"I can see it." Kat laughs and you gasp, "Hey." She lays a hand on your knee, "If it makes you feel any better you'd definitely have a big client list, and I know who number one would be." She winks and tries not to laugh so she covers her mouth, "I'm sorry."
You laugh, "oh my god. I need more alcohol for this." You get up, "I'm going to get a white claw, do you-"
"Yes." She cuts you off and points, "Please."
You give her a thumbs up, "I'll be right back." You quickly make your way down the steps and into the kitchen. You open the fridge and grab as many white claws as you can carry.
Colby's voice makes you jump, "Thirsty or something?"
"Goddam it, Colby. I didn't hear you guys come in." You laugh slightly and he walks over, offering to help, "I'm heading up there now, I can take some of these for you."
"Okay." You hand him a couple and look up at him, "Thank you." He smirks, "So.. did you mean to text me earl-"
"I have to get back to Kat." You cut him off, "We can talk about this later." You smirk slightly as you walk away and Colby follows you, "Oh we definitely will be talking about a lot later I can guarantee that."
His words make your cheeks red and warm as you walk into the room Sam and Kat are in, "Out of my chair, Golbach."
You kick it and he spins around, "Excuse me?"
You smirk and hand him a drink, "Now move." He laughs and gets up, moving to sit behind Kat in the beanbag chair. Colby next to him, behind you.
You hand Kat her drink and you both crack one open, cheersing before you each take a sip.
"What the hell. You guys are like.. that was so in sync." Sam shakes his head looking between you and Kat.
You laugh, "That's what happens when you're best friends for this long." Kat tilts her drink towards you, "Correct. Okay. Now where were we?"
"My turn to ask you or one of the boys a question." You smirk as you pick up the card, "Ooh. Colby." You spin your chair towards him, hiding the card so he can't see it, "what's the last thing you googled?"
"Oh snap. Um. Can I look?" He asks pulling his phone out and you nod, "Yes, but you have to show us."
His mouth drops slightly before he sighs, "Fine, I have no shame around you guys anyway." He unlocks his phone and laughs, "oh my god. I totally forgot that I even searched this.." he turns his phone around, showing you and Kat, "I googled if dogs can understand me."
Sam laughs loudly, "Are you serious?" He grabs the phone and starts laughing again, "Oh my god, Colby!"
You and Kat are laughing in your chairs and Colby sighs, "It's a valid question, damn." He reaches up between you and Kat, kinda close to you.
You chew on the inside of your lip as you smell his cologne. It's the same one you got him for Christmas a few months ago.
He moves back and sighs, "Alright. Sam. This one is for you." He turns towards Sam, "What is the most embarrassing things you have ever done?"
Sam sighs, "twerking on that cruise."
You and Kat look at each other and laugh, "Oh my god." You look at Sam, "I forgot about that."
Sam chugs some of his drunk, "Yeah, I haven't." He laughs and leans forward, giving Kat a kiss on the cheek as he reaches for a card.
You glance up at the screen, looking at Colby through the camera, and he smiles at you, looking away, "who's it for?"
Sam laughs slightly, "y/n. What's the dirtiest text you ever sent to someone?"
Colby clears his throat, "Yeah, y/n. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent to someone." He shrugs as he smirks and you lean up, pouring yourself a shot and taking it.
You wash it down with your drink and sigh, "That's for me to know and no one else to find out."
You grab a card, laughing slightly as you look at Kat, "Katrina. If you had to kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend, who would it be?"
She shrugs and laughs slightly, "That's easy."
Sam leans forward, "Oh is it?"
She looks at Sam, laughing as she points to you, "Y/n."
He raises his eyebrows, "Huh. Not where I thought that was going."
"Prove it. Prove it. Prove it." Colby chants quietly behind you guys and you look at him, "Maybe when I'm a little bit more drunk."
He chuckles, "Mhm."
Kat picks up a card, glancing at Sam before taking a deep breath, "y/n. What's your biggest turn off?"
You suck air between your teeth, "Probably insecurity. Like..for example.." you shift around in your seat, "..if I wanted to wear this out to a bar or something, who ever I'm with shouldn't get mad at me for it you know?"
Kat nods, "Oh hell yeah, girl. Like who ever you're with.." she glances to Colby and smirks, "They should know that you're only looking good for them. Not fight with you about it."
"Exactly. Yes." You can feel the alcohol settling in, along with Kat because you're both super giggly.
You pick up a card and read it. You can tell Colby is staring at you, you can feel it.
So you turn to him with a smile, "Colby."
"Y/n." He smiles and tilts his head as he brings his drink up to his lips.
"This is actually an easy one. Take three shots or quit playing." You watch as he nods, "Give me three shots."
One by one, you pour him shots into your shot glass and hand them to him.
"Still got it." He laughs and points, "Hand me a card please." You reach up, grabbing a card and handing it to him.
He leans back, "Kat. What is the biggest secret you kept from your parents growing up?"
She sighs, "oh no." You lean forward, "Oh Katrina. Do tell." You rest your elbow on your knee, chin in your palm and she sighs, "I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. I was to be at my friend Lauren's house but we were at a party in some persons basement.. drinking."
You bat the air, "Oh we've all done that."
"Really? You partied when you weren't supposed to?" Colby laughs, "I don't believe that." You roll your eyes and stand up, "Pause. I have to pee."
Kat laughs, "Enjoy your pee."
"You guys are drunk." Sam says, and you can tell he's moving to your chair.
You go to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, but you can't help but giggle as you think about Colby.
His hand around his drink when it really should be around your neck.
His rings pressing against your skin in all the right ways.
His lips, dragging up and down the skin or your neck.
You bite your lip, laughing slightly as you shake your head, pushing the thoughts out to do your business.
Once you're done, you make your way back to the room and take Sam's spot. You sit down, and they all look at you.
"What?" You ask pointing to your drink. Kat hands it to you and she shakes her head, "Nothing. We were just waiting for you." She laughs and hands you a card.
You read your card to yourself, smirking as you look at Colby, "What is your least favorite thing about me?"
Sam gives a low, "Oooh shit."
"Bold." Kat whispers and you can tell she's secretly cheering you on. She crosses her leg over the other, staring intently between you and Colby, "Well? Colby. Are you going to answer or.."
He smirks and shakes his head, "I'll say it. But I'm not saying it for everyone to hear."
Your heart rate picks up as you perk up, unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
"Where's the fun in that?" Sam groans, "Say it. Say it. Say it."
Colby reaches over, grabbing your arm to pull you over to him. You lean into him naturally and he rests his cheek against yours, whispering as quiet as possible, "The only thing I don't like about you, is the fact that you're not mine."
He slowly leans away, smirking at you as you look at him, "Really?"
He nods, "Yeah, it's real annoying, actually."
You look down as you try not to smile, but you fail so you cover it with taking a sip of your drink.
"What did he say?" Kat leans forward, almost falling off her chair but your laughing distracts everyone until Sam yells, "Colby!" He hands him a card, "your turn, brother."
Colby takes it, nodding as he laughs slightly, "this one is for both of the girls."
You and Kat look at each other, "Oh no."
"The girls must take three shots in a row, or quit playing." Colby tosses the card down and looks between you and Kat.
"Give me the glass." You hold your hand out and Colby gently places it in your hand, he still had it from when he took his three.
Sam pours both, you and Kat's shots and you clink the small glasses each time before taking the shots, laughing as you finish the third.
"They're about to be fucked up." Sam laughs and Colby shakes his head, "Yeah, yeah they are." He looks to you, winking as you lean back in the chair, "Kat, you can go."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
At this point, you all are feeling pretty damn good. If you stood up, you feel like you could fall over, but you had no issue moving closer to Colby.
The drunker you got, the more you wanted to be with  him. Next to him. Anything.
Kat and Sam are talking, reading the comments and laughing together as you and Colby have a quiet conversation behind them.
"Did you mean what you texted me earlier?" He whispers leaning in and you nod, "yeah..yeah. I did actually." You look up at him with a smile, "if I'm be-"
"Y/n!" Kat yells your name and you look over at her, "What?!"
She laughs, "Tell them.. tell them about when we went to the mall and that lady who walked into us."
Your eyes go wide, "Oh my god." You start to laugh, "We were walking out of the one store and this lady ran into us, started bitching that we needed to watch where we were going and not even ten seconds later, fucking walks right into the one sign." You laugh with Kat, "Fucking smacks her face and spills her coffee all over her white dress. Ah. It was hilarious."
Colby stares at you, smiling as he admires how pretty you are when you laugh, "She sounds like she deserved it."
You look at him, leaning over as you nod, "Oh yeah. Totally deserved it."
Colby leans in, whispering in your ear, "You know you're so pretty when you laugh." He leans back and smiles at you.
You roll your eyes and lean over, laying a hand on his knee as you support your weight to put your lips next to his ear, "I'd look even prettier under you."
You were way past feeling bold.
He laughs slightly, taken aback by what you said, "Really?"
He spoke loud enough to catch Sam and Kat's attention and he looks up at them. You look up at them and start laughing, "Oh my god."
"Wanna share with the rest of the class?" Sam laughs and you shake your head, "No not really."
Colby leans over, resting his head on your shoulder, "We're just having our own little convo back here so mind ya biz." He laughs and you laugh, resting a hand on his head as you lean into him more.
Colby moves his head up to kiss your neck and you giggle, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Whoooaaaa colbyyyyy!" Sam drags out his yell, "Whoa whoa whoa."
Kat's mouth is open, staring as Colby leans up, "Oh stop it. How can you not look at her."
"Colby." You lean over, "You're drunk."
He leans in, close to your face, "So are you."
"So are we." Kat laughs as she leans forward, resting her head on Sam's leg, "This is so much fun though." She sits up, "We should play a game. Just one more game."
"Ooh, I'm down for another game." You bite your lip and nod, "Whatcha got in mind?"
"Most likely? The person that everyone votes. Drinks." Kat smirks, "Please."
"Only because you're so pretty." Sam reaches over squeezing her chin and she smiles, "Alright. Sam you start."
He chuckles, "Alright.. uhh.. let's see.." he snaps, "who's most likely to accidentally find a portal to another dimension?"
Instantly everyone points to Sam, laughing.
"Wh- oh come on." He groans, "Why me?"
"Because you're always going off on your own when we're doing investigations, Sam." Colby laughs and Sam sighs, taking the shot from Kat, "I walked into that one."
"Yeah, just like you will a portal." You mumble and fall over onto Colby's lap as you laugh.
Sam glares at you and Kat pats his leg, "She said what we're all thinking." She sighs, "Okay. I'll go." She leans back in her chair, "Who's most likely to get a random tattoo on a night out?"
Colby points to you while the rest of you point to him and he scoffs, "What the hell?"
"I honestly think I would, so I'll take a shot with you." You smile and take the glass, holding it up for Kat to pour you and Colby a shot.
He smiles, "Aw how sweet of you."
"You have no idea." You mumble as you cheers him, taking the shot like nothing, "Alright. I'll go." You set your glass down, biting your lip as you think.
You laugh slightly as you sigh, "Who's most likely to have handcuffs in the bedroom." You raise your eyebrows and smirk, "one.. two.. three."
You and Sam point to Colby and Kat and Colby point to Sam.
Sam and Colby look at each other and start laughing. Kat turns to you, "They have matching ones." You look at Colby, "Do you?"
He shrugs, "Maybe." His eyes move to you as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. You raise an eyebrow, "Mm."
Colby leans back, "Who's most likely to lose their clothes on a night out?" His eyes move to you and everyone is pointing to you.
"Huh!? Why me?" You point to yourself, "I don't lo-"
"Yes you do. Last weekend you lost your coat and one of your shoes." Kat laughs, "I'm not judging but it would be you."
You laugh, "Okay. Okay. That- it was a coat and a shoe." You argue, "But fine. I'll take it."
"When you lose it here at least you'll know where to find it." Sam mumbles and you about spit out your shot, "Shut it, Golbach."
He laughs and shrugs, nodding to Colby, "I'm just saying."
Kat looks at the screen and taps Sam, "They want to know what you said."
"No." You say quickly, "It's fine." You laugh and rest your head back, "who's most likely to have a new ghost up their ass each week." You lift your head and look at Sam, "Hmm?"
"That is so.. that's so not true." He huffs, trying not to laugh. You tilt your head, "Oh yeah? Then why does everyone you do an investigation with say you're the one they'll go for?"
"You know what?" Sam sets his drink down on the desk and turns, staring at you while Colby and Kat are dying with laughter over you and Sam arguing, "Who's most likely to.." he pauses, trying to think of something, but just sighs, "I got nothing."
"Ha! Suck it." You laugh and sigh, "I need to lay down. Those shots are kicking my ass." You stand up, holding onto the back of Kat's chair, "Goodnight party people, y/n is tapping out."
"Night!" Kat yells before yawning, "Yeah I might.. I might be done too."
You walk out, hoping Colby follows you, but you can still hear him talking to Sam and Kat.
You bite your lip, making your way into his room, shutting the door quickly behind you. You turn, eyes scanning over his room as you walk over to his bed, unbuttoning your jeans.
You walk over to his dresser, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to the bed. You toss it down, stripping down to just your panties before sliding his shirt over your head.
You move the blankets, sitting down and swinging your legs onto the bed before covering up. You move around, getting comfy before you take a selfie and send it to Colby.
You lay your phone down, turning away from the door as you hear footsteps coming closer. His door opens quietly and you bite your lip, not moving.
You feel the bed dip down next to you and you feel a hand lay on your waist, "Whatcha doin' in here, pretty girl?"
You slowly roll over onto your back, "Your bed is comfier than the one in the guest room."
"Is that so?" He brushes hair from your face, "You can sleep here anytime you want."
"I plan on it." You smile as you giggle and he tilts his head, "Yeah?"
You nod, "Oh yeah." You lay a hand on his, slowly dragging it up and down his arm, "So you really weren't the last person I texted.."
He furrows his brows, "Huh?"
"Kat was the last person I texted, but I wanted to text you so I just said you were." You look up at him and he smirks, "you're so pretty."
His thumb brushes against your cheek, "What made you change your mind?"
You let out a sigh, "I'm happy when I think about you. When I'm with you. Talking about you." You shrug, "You make me happy. I was just too stu-"
He cuts you off with his lips on yours.
He leans back slightly, "You're not stupid."
You laugh slightly, "If I wasn't we would have been to-"
"Don't. You had your reasons and now we're here." He turns your head to look at him, "Drunk in my bed.." he kisses your cheek, "Speaking those sober thoughts."
You laugh slightly, laying a hand on his cheek, "Mhm."
He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to just come pick you up and bring you to my bed."
You bite your lip, "really?"
"Not even for sex or anything.. I mean, yeah.." he laughs slightly, "I've thought about you in so many ways, but mainly just to be with you. Holding you." His hand slides down your body, slipping under the covers, "Tell me to stop and I will."
"Don't." You say quickly and spread your legs, "Please don't."
He leans in, kissing down your neck, "Tell me what you want, babe."
"You." You whisper and look up at him, "I want you."
He slips his hand into the band of your panties, "I've dreamed of hearing those words."
You whimper slightly as his fingers press down to your clit, "Colby.." you moan quietly as he draws small circles.
"You're all I think about." He gently bites down on your jaw, "I swear, you've taken over my life but in the best way."
You turn your head, crashing your lips onto his, making out slow as he slowly slides his fingers down, dipping them inside of you
You dig your nails into his arm, arching your back as you pull yourself closer to him. You slip your hand down and slip them into his sweats.
He groans lowly as you stroke him, “That feel good?” His voice is low against your lips, “Tell me.”
“So, so good, Colby.” You squeeze his fingers, whimpering as you feel yourself growing closer to the edge, “Fuck..”
“Your sounds are so beautiful.” He leans back, moaning as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, watching as your face scrunches and your eyes flutter shut.
“I-I need you..” you whimper, squeezing your hand around his cock, “Please.”
“Let’s just take it slow, babe. We’ll get to that.” He kisses your lips, “I promise.”
You nod, tilting your head back as you moan, “Fuck, fuck.”
“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Colby rests his forehead against your temple, “You’re so close.”
You turn your head, looking over at him. He presses his lips to yours, moaning against them as you continue to slowly stroke his cock, “C-Colby.”
“All about you baby. I’m okay.” He speeds the thrusts of his fingers up, watching as you squirm under him, “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it.”
His words egged you to cum more, “Fuck.” You whimper and the knot that’s been working in your belly snaps.
You gasp, arching your back as your thighs squeeze his arm, “Shit, shit, shit.”
“That’s it, baby girl. That’s it.” Colby whispers as he peppers your face with kisses, slowly pulling his fingers out.
He brings them up to his lips, licking them off with a groan while you watch in awe. He reaches down, slipping your hand from his sweats and lays next to you, pulling you into him.
Your body fit perfectly into his, like you were made for him.
“I just want to lay with you.” He whispers as he twirls your hair, “We can get to that other stuff later.”
You weren’t going to argue with him. You’re just glad you’re there.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Hi hello sorry for the late update. I’ve been super sick lately. I hope you enjoy this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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xiaours · 22 days
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hi! can I request genshin men realizing that their s/o isn't eating (or either being fed by their boss or whatever), and losing their initial cheerfulness bcs of it? thank you in advance!
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'WHY AREN'T YOU EATING?'
— genshin men being concerned when they find out you haven't been eating
pairing. genshin men x gn!reader (seperate)
cw. comfort, words of admiration, pet names, mentions of fat shaming/not eating, overthinking
note. you are all perfect the way you are ! don't let anyone tell you otherwise <3
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You sat there, picking at your food. You and your boyfriend were out at dinner, his idea. Since the two of you couldn't spend much time together due to the duties he had to fulfill. You were glad that he took you out, but brought to guilt once you realized he was taking you out to a restaurant. You continued to pick at your food, which he had noticed, giving you a curious eye.
"[name]? Is there something on your mind..?"
You looked up, meeting his gaze. "Mhm, just a bit stressed lately.."
You shifted in your seat as he continued to look at you. He has set down his silverware, neglecting this dinner as he pulled his attention to you. "Is there a reason why?"
"Work. My boss. They said.. some things."
"Mm. What 'things'?"
He knew your work field. You worked hard for your job, an admirable person to say the least. He had never expected you to be too stressed by how well you dealt with changes.
He picked up the fact that you were uncomfortable. He let out a small sigh, "What did they say, [name]."
"They made fun of how I looked, following my weight.. saying that I shouldn't eat as much as I am now." You felt sick to your stomach remembering their exact words. Insulting you, and you couldn't stop it. You didn't want to get fired.
You picked at your nails. He looked at you, his eyes softening at your state. He reached his arm out, grabbing your hand.
"You're perfect the way you are, [name]. I didn't fall in love with your looks, I fell in love with your personality. And it hurts to see you stressed over someone's words."
"Eat as much as you like. Don't listen to other's unneeded words."
You smile, he has always made you feel better mentally. You give him a nod. "Alright, thank you."
"Of course, my love. Now eat, it's your favorite."
He would deal with your boss sooner or later, but at this moment, he wanted to be there for you.
— neuvillette, ayato, kazuha, zhongli, diluc, cyno, albedo + your favs
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It was a movie night, one that you have every Saturday night. Your boyfriend has made some popcorn and sat down with you as you both picked a movie. Throughout the movie, he noticed that you hadn't eaten any of the snacks that were currently displayed on the coffee table in front of the two of you.
He wouldn't think anything odd about this, but it also seemed like you weren't present, mentally. You looked spaced out. He reached for the remote, pausing the movie.
"[name], something on your mind?"
You spanned out of your thoughts, shifting into a more comfortable position, and looking at him swiftly before looking back at the television. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He sighed, "Don't lie to me, something is bothering you. Is it the movie?"
"No, no. It's just.."
He looked at you, setting the popcorn down on the table as he moved his body in your direction. "Did someone do something to you, I'll get rid of them."
"Babe. I'm just overthinking, it happens all the time, let's just watch the movie."
"I'm not unpausing it until you tell me what's going on. You can talk to me."
You took a swallow, "My friends, y'know. The ones that I hung out with last weekend."
He crossed his arms. So it was your friends? He didn't seem to like them very much. They seemed rude and fake, and maybe he was right.
"They made fun of me about how I looked, my weight exactly. They told me how it was practically impossible that I'd be dating you without bribing you with money." He was shocked, to say the least. How could they say such a thing?
"Listen hear, don't listen to what they have to say. I love you. Looks aside. You're a wonderful person and you make me happy. If they don't know a great person when they see one, stop being friends with them." His hands met yours, holding them softly.
"Thank you." You looked down, smiling. "Can we continue to watch the movie?"
"Of course." He had unpaused the movie. Pulling you closer to him as the two of you proceeded to eat the snacks.
And for your friends, they'd be dealt with.
— kaveh, childe, heizou, thoma, wanderer, wriothesley + your favs
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© xiaours. do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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avatar-anna · 6 months
Text
When You Fall In Love...
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so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood
part one, part two, bonus, bonus
Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.
Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.
But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.
Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.
"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.
"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.
Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.
"I'm fine."
She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."
Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.
He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.
But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.
"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.
"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.
Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.
Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."
"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."
Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.
So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
*.*
"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"
Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.
Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.
Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.
She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.
And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.
His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.
Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.
It was love at first sight.
Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.
He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.
They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.
So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.
Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.
To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"
"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.
When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.
That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.
*.*
"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I am! God, Harry, I am."
"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."
"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.
Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"
"No!
"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"
"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"
You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.
"Y/n—"
"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."
You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.
At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.
Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.
"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.
"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"
It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.
You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.
Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.
You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.
"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."
You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."
"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"
"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."
You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.
Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."
You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.
"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."
"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.
It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.
"Oh."
"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."
"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"
"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."
"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."
You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"
"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."
"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"
"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.
Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.
"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."
Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"
"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.
Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."
"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."
"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."
Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."
"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."
"Shut up."
"Make me!"
And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.
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Note
I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child
hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
FIVE WEEKS SINCE.
bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?
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word count. 957
Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake. 
A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.
During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.
You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.
It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.
As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.
It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.
"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.
You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass. 
Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.
"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself. 
He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.
"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.
He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.
"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one. 
With a soft shake of his head, he declines.
"Can't sleep?" you ask. 
"No. You?"
"No."
And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?" 
"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?" 
You nod, also holding back. 
"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.
"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.
His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness. 
"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice. 
He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.
"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."
The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all. 
"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."
He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward. 
"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest. 
"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."
You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."
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I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭
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newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months
Text
Yandere with a unknown identity
Exchanging information
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M!Yandere X F!Reader Warning: Dub-con (leaning towards consensual), dry humping but one is naked (?), NSFW. I don't know, just tell me if I need to add anything. Summary: You play along one of his game to get more information as to who your intruder could be. Author's note: If you are wondering who Robert is, I don't know either.
"Well, since he doesn't seem to be any danger to you, perhaps you could talk to him.” Robert says. He had invited you to a walk in the newly opened park. Since your last conversation the two of you had kept in contact. He has been eager to find a solution to your problem at any cost. This time the price seemed a bit high to your liking. 
“That has to be one of your worst ideas yet.” You tell him. 
“I'm just curious and I'm sure you would want to hear what he has to say too right?”
“Not if I'm used as bait!” 
“Just give it a try, as of now we don't have any information to go off. It could give us a lead.” 
“Fine, but you owe me.” You say as the both of you head out of the park. 
“I'll gladly make it up to you!” He says practically bouncing up and down as the two of you part ways. 
Your second encounter with your unknown intruder didn't take long. Two days after your conversation with Robert you had just fallen asleep in front of some show when you woke up to someone sitting down with a sigh at the other end of the couch. 
"Eh, Hello…” You say, uncertain of how to act now when the time has come. 
"Hi, darling." He does his little eye squinting that tells you he is smiling under his mask. 
“I have questions…” You start. 
“Oh, really? Well, ask away, we’ll see if I'll answer.” He leans back putting his gloved hands behind his head. “Go on.” 
You think for a moment. Every question you had seems to have disappeared and your head is blank. 
“What's your name?” 
"Can't tell.”
“Do you live around here?” He only chuckles at your question and frustration grows inside your chest. 
“So, you won't answer any questions?”
“I can, but it's not cheap.” 
“Okay, I ask you a question and then you can ask me one.”
“No, not too interested in that.”
“What do you want then?”
“I dunno, what can you give me?” He smiles again. “I know, let's play a game.” 
“A game? What game?” 
“Lets say, with every question you ask, you take off one piece of clothing and I'll answer any question your heart desires.” The room falls quiet and he eyes you up and down for a reaction. 
You think for a moment, biting your lip. You don't have too much on. Your socks would give you two questions. Your shirt might cover you up if you take off your pants. But that would give you only three questions until you will have to get bold… 
“Okay, but no lying.” You state, he nods frantically eager for what's coming next. You take one of your socks off and he chuckles. 
“You're really taking this seriously are you.” He teases. 
“Shut up, I want you to answer my first question. What's your name?” 
“Well, a name will be expensive. You can call me Bo, But if you want more than I think more will have to come off.” 
“That's not what we agreed on.” 
“Well, I suppose that wasn't specifically stated. I haven't lied to you and I answered your question. What more could you ask?” 
“Fine, let's move on.” 
“Do you want me to answer where I live next?” 
“If it's free, sure.”
“Alright, I'll give you that as compensation for the last question. I live here in town.” You sigh, of course this wasn't going to be easy. 
“Is that all I'm gonna get?” You ask as you cross your arms.  
“If that's your next question then another sock will have to come off.” He says and points to your other foot. 
“No no, It's not! Just let me think for a moment.” You look down fin your lap and try to think about something he can't slither out of. You take off your other sock as you ask. 
“Where did you and I first meet?” 
“I don't know, such things are impossible to tell, we could have run into each other on the streets or at the store…”
“No, you know what I mean. When did you first acknowledge me?” 
"Yeah, fine. It was at this bar, personally one of my favorites. You had gone out with a few friends and I think one of them got in trouble and the police came." 
“No, I remember that. Megan's ex came and started yelling at everyone.”
“Yeah… you looked really pretty that night.” he mumbles and you pretend not to hear him. 
“Okay, then my next question is…” You stand up and start to take off your pants, your shirt is just long enough to cover your lower parts. “...,besides that time you and I met here, you know. Have we ever spoken to each other?” He looks down at his lap, fidgets with his gloves for a moment before he answers. It almost seems like he wants to tell you more. Maybe you can get him to slip up? 
“Well, we did speak that night at the bar. I just checked in on you, making sure you were okay.” He looks back up at you. You nod eagerly. If you only can get him to talk some more. You take a deep breath then you stand back up and take your panties off. They slid down onto the pile on the floor and you sat back down. You make it a point to cover yourself with the shirt, but his eyes still linger, trying to get a glimpse. 
“After that, when was the next time we spoke?” 
“At the Christmas market, I was working that day.” He says, his eyes blown with lust. 
“What do you work with?”
“I can't tell you that.” He shakes his head, eyes scanning you up and down. Knowing you will have him if you can get him to tell you, you start to amp up your antics. You pull your shirt over your head leaving you only with your bra on. He takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat. 
“What do you work with?” You ask again. 
“I told you I can't tell you that.” You unbutton your bra and throw it on the floor. Then you crawl to his side of the sofa and straddle his lap. His breath hitches at your actions. 
“I have paid well enough for an answer to that question.” 
“I'm sorry, darling. No can do.” He simply says and shakes his head. 
“Well, I still have two questions left.” You can feel him growing hard where you sit, but you stay unmoving. 
“Alright, shoot.” 
“Have you been stalking me for long?” 
“No, I'm not stalking you. I was just checking in, making sure that you were okay.”
“Yeah, you never know when someone might break in.” You say sarcastically. 
“I can see the irony in it. But I was never here to harm you, that time was an accident, I didn't mean for you to catch me. But I'm glad that you did.” He says and puts his arms around you, pulling you closer. You feel the friction on your lower half as he moves you. You despise the fact that it's starting to turn you on. 
“Okay, next question. Have we… met these last two days.” 
“Yes.” 
“We have?” You say shocked. “Where?” 
“No more clothes, no more questions.” he simply says. You sigh frustrated. Then you get an idea. And with your dignity already out the window you go for it. You roll your hips against his crotch, once, then twice. He looks at you with hooded eyes as the friction seems to egg him one. As you grind against him he grabs your hips to move quicker. 
“You never fail to surprise me.” He asks breathy. You can feel the friction making yourself wet too as well as his member growing harder. 
“Oh no, for every question one of these has to come off, Preferably this.” You say and tugs at his shirt. 
“Oh fuck.” He pulls you closer and hides his face in the crock of your neck as he grinds his hips in unison with you. He growls in your ear. Feeling the arousal grow inside you decide to put the questions on hold, seeking your own pleasure for the moment. It's when a low moan leaves your lips as a fold in his pants hits your clit just right that he stops. 
“I won't let you cum if you don't tell me something. I know you want to, tell me you'll do what I say and I'll let you cum.” You nod but it's not enough. “Words, let me hear your pretty voice, love.” 
“Yes, I will.” You tell him, trying to grind your hips but his hands hold you in place. 
“Oh, you're so eager.” He says and looks into your eyes. “Tell me you want me.” 
“I want you.” You say, closing your eyes. 
“Use my name, darling.” 
“I want you, Bo ah-” He starts to grind your hips even more forcefully this time. Little gasps leave your lips and it only spurs him on. 
"What do you want me to do, Darling?" 
The combination of his small humps and the grinding back and forth bring you closer and closer to the edge. You focus on the only piece of him that is exposed and his eyes never leave you. Not for a second. It darts between your gaze to your bouncing boobs and back to your expressions. 
All you can read of him is his eyes half closed and his brows furrowed. 
"Tell me what do you want me to do?" He asks you again. You scramble yourself enough to give him a smirk before you lean closer and whisper. 
"I want you inside of me." The way he moans at your statement you'd think he came right there.
"I want you and I want to be inside you too. Just not now, not today. Oh fuck."
Your legs are trembling as you fall over the edge. Your orgasm makes you throw your head back and moan loudly. Bo moves your hips to help you ride it out. 
As you come back down from your high you take a jagged breath and Bo's movements settle. 
"Fun playing with you." He says and he lifts you off him. Like last time he gets up and goes into the kitchen, he stops by your room before he returns. He has a glass of juice and a towel with him. 
"I'd help you, but I'm kind of in a rush, sweetie." He moves a stray hair from your face before he heads out.
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barcaatthemoon · 16 days
Text
harmless || alexia putellas x reader ||
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you do a little harmless flirting with alexia when your teams play against each other's.
playing against barcelona felt like a dream come true. so much about this year's champion's league tournament was like that. this was the first one that you were getting to play in with your team, the one that you had been signed to since you could sign a senior contract. you were loyal, having absolutely no intentions of going elsewhere in the world to play. although, barcelona had made some very convincing offers to you.
your teammates and coaches were grateful that you had declined, despite your agent's urgency towards you signing elsewhere. you were crazy to give up barcelona, especially since there was so much for you to learn from them. the way that they played soccer had always fascinated you to no end, it felt far more efficient than anything you could think to do.
"hola," you greeted alexia in the tunnel. she glanced over at you, a small smile on her face. "i'm (y/n)."
"i know, i've seen you play before. you're very good," alexia complimented. you blushed at her compliment, turning your head away in a feeble attempt to hide it.
"thank you. you're also very good, like the best in the world," you told her. alexia had a little smirk on her face, but you could see the way her ears got pink. for a moment, you thought that she looked a little unfocused, and you got an idea. "i didn't think it was possible to see such beauty and talent in one person."
alexia forced herself to keep her eyes off of you. you felt a little smug as you walked out of the tunnel. whenever you had to shake alexia's hand before the game, you shot her a wink, one that didn't go unnoticed by a couple of her teammates. immediately, alexia got extremely flustered, only boostering your confidence for the game.
you were no stranger to playing some mind games. flirting with alexia whenever the two of you met up in the midfield was easy. it was even easier whenever the two of you ended up marking each other for a corner. alexia was bigger than you, so she should have won the challenge, but all you had to do was let out a gasp when she grabbed at your hips for her to back away.
you felt like you were getting away with everything when frido cornered you at halftime. she walked right up to you and pushed at your shoulder to get your attention. "what the fuck is all that with alexia?"
"there's nothing going on with alexia." there was no point in you even trying to deny it. frido knew you well enough to know exactly what was going on. she gave you a stern look, one that had you almost shrinking back into yourself. "fine, i might be flirting with your captain a little, but a little flirting never hurt anybody."
"do not start something that you don't intend to see through, okay? she's going through a hard time right now, and you playing with her feelings today isn't going to help. she's already beating herself up for having a 'bad game' because of your bullshit, kid," frido warned. you agreed to back off, and followed her over to apologize to alexia.
"hey," you greeted alexia cautiously.
"hola, shouldn't you be with your team?" alexia questioned. you shrugged. there was going to be a pep talk, one that would hopefully help you to kick some ass, but the pep talks were not your duty anymore.
"they'll be fine, i don't give the pep talks," you told her. alexia nodded as she pointed over towards her bench. you noticed that a group of the younger players were working to hype up everybody else. "i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?"
"not so much uncomfortable as you are a distraction," alexia confessed. you smirked a little, genuinely surprised that alexia would get distracted by you of all people. "it'd really help if you maybe saved it for somewhere else. i mean, i am trying to work here."
"well, i'm just repaying the favor. you're pretty distracting too," you teased. alexia huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"i'm not trying to, you are. you have got to stop trying to distract me while i'm at work," alexia countered. your face fell for a moment as you realized that she had a point. "maybe if you behave, i'll buy you dinner tonight."
"alright, but i want to see the best that barcelona's got to offer," you said. alexia agreed to those terms, unaware that you were literally just talking about her.
"are you sure that this is where we have to end this?" you asked alexia with a small pout on your face. while her team went out to celebrate their win, alexia had opted to take you to dinner instead. you didn't have a lot of hope for a long distance relationship, but you were still a little optimistic. there was something about alexia that made you want to make things work.
"you have an early flight tomorrow, and i do not like sex on the first date," alexia told you. she cradled your face in her hands and ran her thumb across your bottom lip. "i will see you again, yes?"
"definitely," you promised her. alexia smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. you eagerly shot forward a little, but alexia kept you from pushing her backwards. "are you sure that you can't come up for a little while?"
"frido warned me you were relentless," alexia laughed. your face quickly fell as you tried to think of all the things that frido might have told alexia. the woman had known you since you could practically kick a soccer ball, and you had no doubt that if you stepped out of line, she wouldn't hesitate to embarrass you with alexia. "be good while you're away for me."
"i guess i can try to stay out of trouble," you huffed. alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead before she walked away from you. your hotel was pretty close to her apartment, something that you had learned when alexia came to pick you up for dinner. you knew that it'd be a few dates, but you couldn't wait for her to take you back to her place.
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