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consultingskeletondetective · 4 months

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Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits.

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome.

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you.

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile.

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled.

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian.

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule.

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated.

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be.

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you.

“Help yourself, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.”

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot.

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men.

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand.

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury.

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question.

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base.

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him.

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him.

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.”

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office.

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt.

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso.

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did.

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary.

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something .

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling.

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face.

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least.

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.”

“It’s not your problem.”

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.”

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life.

“What message?” König asked suddenly.

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh.

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant.

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”

You blinked.

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond.

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care.

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury.

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit.

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk.

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw.

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private.

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded.

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.”

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer.

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?”

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared.

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you.

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming.

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else.

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before.

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly.

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand.

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds.

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently.

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs.

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you.

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls.

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks.

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”

#fanfiction #call of duty #cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #smut #cod smut

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pearlywritings · 7 months

Text

Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2

pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)

word count: 6.9k+ words

a/n: part 1 can be read here!

Capitano

Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.

The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.

Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?

Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.

"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."

"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."

"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."

"What do you imply?"

"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"

"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"

Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.

"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"

"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."

"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."

"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.

"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.

"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."

The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..

"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."

The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.

Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.

"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.

The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.

Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.

Everyone gasps.

The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.

Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.

Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.

“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”

“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”

“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”

And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.

And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.

“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”

“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”

“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”

“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”

“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.

“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”

“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.

“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”

Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.

“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.

“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.

“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”

“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”

Kaveh

With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.

Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.

Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.

When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.

Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.

“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.

“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”

“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.

“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”

At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.

“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”

The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.

“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”

“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”

“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.

“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”

Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.

“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response.

“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”

Oh Archons, again?

There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…

But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.

“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”

“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”

“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”

The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.

“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.

Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.

"Kaveh's wife"

With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them.

“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”

The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.

Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions.

When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.

“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?

“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”

“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.

And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.

Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.

And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.

Tighnari

With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.

Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.

Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?

Well…

“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”

Ah yes, him.

Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea.

“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”

No, it absolutely would not!

Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.

And from day one it was a pain in the butt.

One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.

Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.

You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.

The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.

“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”

You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.

“...and?”

“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”

“Well, you don’t have a mate?”

It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.

“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”

You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.

“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”

You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.

“Get away from me!”

You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.

“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”

But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones.

Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.

Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.

However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.

Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?

“Herbad Y/n!”

…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.

“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.

“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”

Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.

“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”

All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.

“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.

“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.

The key word - almost.

Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.

“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.

“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”

“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”

“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”

“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”

“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”

The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.

“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”

With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”

Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.

“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.”

”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”

With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.

“As you wish, wife.”

Zhongli

"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."

To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.

It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.

Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.

In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.

You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.

Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.

When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.

“Does it bother you that much, my love?”

Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.

“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”

Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.

When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.

Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.

"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."

You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.

"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."

The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.

"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.

"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.

And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).

They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.

They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).

Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.

“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”

“But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.

“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #il capitano x reader #capitano x reader #capitano x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #il capitano #capitano #kaveh #tighnari #zhongli #genshin impact fluff

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catfishofoldin99colours · 1 year

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me: hmm I wonder why I'm gravitating towards bad batch again so much

also me: *has been having the absolute worst time of my life that has been getting steadily worse with pretty much no hope of escape or getting better, and the idea of a found family of wildly unequipped but nonetheless caring adults looking after one sweet child purely because she's small and has no one to care for her is immensely appealing to my own inner child that desperately wants someone to care for me and protect me*

me: hm. Anyway

#catfish speaks #for all it's flaws i do genuinely love the show it's got so much love in it #just these soldiers who know NOTHING about kids at all #seeing this small girl and just vowing to protect her #i mean hunter is the most gung-ho about keeping her around but the others just go with it regardless #and even with crosshair there is still love there #he denies it but there is #its just. comforting to me #also when i first watched it i also got very into bluey #and man that show does a lot when you're depressed and ashamed of yourself #just seeing kind interactions with children handled with respect and care #it's not therapy but it does help a bit #so the two are kind of conflated in my head #and i go to them when im feeling bad #is it any wonder ive needed comfort recently #with everything going on

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frost-queen · 1 month

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My mortal flaw // part 2 (Reader x Zuko)

Requested by: @ficsmoothie Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget

Summary: If there was one person you hated the most it was Commander Zhao. When Zhao kills the moon spirit, it takes a drastic toll on you. Being on the brink of dying in the arms of the fire prince. [ part 1 & part 3 & part 4 ]

You felt the ominous atmosphere, the moment he stepped foot on the ship. A certain chill catching your bones. It wasn’t that chilly tonight, but you still shivered. The ominous approach of his footsteps. Heavy and hard on the ship’s deck. The ship had gone silent. Holding in a breath. All of the soldiers lined up. At the very end Zuko with you by his side. Iroh a bit behind Zuko’s right shoulder. You took a deep breath when he came in vision. Standing across on the other end.

A thick smirk on his face. His walk sturdy and a bit too much air. He never gave the soldiers any of his contact. His gaze was fixated on the prince and you. You let your gaze briefly shoot over to Zuko. His posture firm as you saw him brace himself. His chest slightly puffing up as he kept his hands behind his back. His expression emotionless. Turning your gaze back to the front, he was almost near.

He might have been a fire bender, but he gave you the chills. He came to a stop before Zuko and you. – “My prince.” – he addressed with a small bow, one hand on his chest. His gaze then shifted to you. – “Water princess.” – he spoke, making you almost roll your eyes at him. The way he showed it made it seem like he had little respect for you.

“Commander Zhao.” – Zuko spoke drawing his attention back to him. – “You will the address the princess formally.” – he insisted upon. Zhao forced his mouth to smile. – “Princess Y/n.” – he said bowing his head just a bit. – “Commander Zhao.” - you said bowing, hands holding your elbows inside your sleeves. A moment of silence fell, making you glance over at Zuko. Iroh cleared his throat. – “Shall we head inside Commander Zhao?” – Iroh offered, gesturing at the cabin.

Iroh took the lead, guiding Zhao inside. Zuko and you behind him. Zuko paused allowing you to enter first. You gave him a smile, showing him your gratitude. Zuko moved behind you, following you inside the cabin. You had come a long way since Kyoshi Island, but you weren’t fully there. Zuko’s walls had crumbled just a bit around you. Just enough to appreciate your presence more.

You didn’t expect him to cling onto you like dew to a flower. That he would be a totally different man or suddenly declare his love for you, if he even had that. No it was more an understanding. A common agreement on both parties. Nothing was going to chance this union.

Iroh and Zhao were already in the quarter when you walked in with Zuko. Zuko came standing by the map on the table. You went to Iroh, standing beside him. – “What news.” – Zuko started looking firmly at the map. Zhao cleared his throat. – “Perhaps the princess should leave the room.” – Zhao stated looking behind Zuko to you. Zuko lifted his head up, bringing his fingers closer to his palm on the table. – “The princess stays!” – he declared with a glare.

“My prince.” – Zhao started, his expression bitter like swallowing a sour apple down. – “All this talk of war, might not be something for a girl to attend.” - Zhao let out, clearing wanting you out of the room. – “Y/n stays!” – Zuko made clear, slamming his fist against the table. – “I have no secrets for her.” – he finished looking angered at Zhao. – “Is that so?” – Zhao spoke a hint of surprise in his voice. Perhaps some mockery too.

“Forgive me my prince, but I do not believe your princess would be an asset to the room.” – Zhao slipped out, looking rather foul at you. Zuko clenched his hand, getting frustrated with him. – “She stays!” – he outed loud.

It wasn’t hard to read the room. Commander Zhao disliked you for one reason only. The reason you were a water tribe girl. If you were a girl from the fire nation, he might have belittled you too, but with less grudge. You sighed soft, getting in motion. – “I’ll leave since you are insisting.” – you said making Zuko turn around to you. – “But…” – he started. He had been keeping his foot down, insisting on your presence in the room. So hearing you give up, confused him.

“I know when I am unwanted.” – you replied loud enough for Zhao to hear. Stepping up to Zuko, you wanted a private moment with him. – “Be firm.” – you whispered to him. Letting your gaze go from Zuko with admiration to Zhao with anger. Zuko swayed his head a bit to the side, moving his hand to yours.

“Stay…” – he whispered almost breathlessly when you slipped through his fingers, already leaving the room. Zuko’s gaze met up with Iroh. Commander Zhao to his back. Iroh showed Zuko to be strong, to not show emotion with a simple expression. Zuko took a deep breath before turning back to Zhao. – “Now let’s talk.” – he said firm, pressing his palms on the table.

You were on deck, hand under your chin as you let the water from the ocean move up and down with your hand. A stream of water getting stretched out from the ocean and back down. Just mindless bending to pass the time. Commander Zhao felt like a bad omen to you. You didn’t care much for the little respect he had towards you. You did care how he could subtly belittle Zuko.

Acting as if he was higher in rank and Zuko but a foot soldier. A part of you was glad you weren’t in that room with him. You hated looking at his stupid face. On the other hand, you wanted to be in that room to make sure he wouldn’t make Zuko a fool. Kyoshi Island made you look differently upon Zuko. With more respect as to say. It sure made the union between the two of you bond.

Something you never thought was possible. You’d always hoped Zuko would melt some walls down with you. At least enough for him to respect you and perhaps if you could dream for him to show affection in any way. Even if it meant the littlest of meanings. You wanted him to be happy with you, even though you were never his choice.

The water splashed down as you heard their voices. It made you turned around, standing up straight. Commander Zhao stomped towards the railing to leave your ship. Not seeing Iroh or Zuko near him, you rushed back inside. The door swung open as you were panting with worry. You only had to look at Zuko, knowing Zhao had gotten under his skin once more. – “What happened?” – you asked with concern, going over to Zuko.

You reached your hand out to his arm. Your fingers could touch his arm but for a second before he flipped his arm up. – “Get out!” – he shouted loud with anger. It startled you, but you staid. Zuko grunted loud, brazing. – “I was only…” – you began as he cut you off with blazing fire in the room. You felt the warmth tickle your skin. – “I don’t need your pathetic sympathy!” – Zuko answered rudely.

“Zuko!” – you shouted back getting up in his face. – “I am not Zhao!” – you grabbed him by his suit. – “Damn well remember that!” – your gaze staring coldly back at him. Your little outburst made him swallow in shock. Never had he seen you counterstrike so hard against him. You let go of him with a shove. Iroh was impressed by you, tempering Zuko’s temper so easily. Zuko blinked confused, calmed down in a matter of seconds.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed down as well. – “Don’t let Zhao get under your skin. He’s not worth it.” – you told Zuko. Zuko nodded. You wanted to leave again when Zuko grabbed for your wrist, making you stop. Startled, you looked down at his hand around your wrist. Your eyes met as Zuko looked away. His grip faltered as he let go of you.

He proceeded to do as if what he had done was of no significance. You bent through your knees as a curtsy to him before leaving the room once more. – “Don’t.” – Zuko said out loud. – “I wasn’t going to say anything.” – Iroh answered innocently. – “You were thinking it.” – Zuko added with a sigh. – “All I wish to say is don’t push her away nephew. You’ll regret it.” – Iroh replied wisely. He then bowed his head to Zuko, taking his leave. Iroh found you on the deck, asking if you wanted to join him for tea. You accepted, drinking some tea under the moonlight with him.

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

“Remember your fire breath.” – Iroh said to Zuko. Zuko took a deep breath to show him. – “Princess Y/n.” – Iroh said making you nod determined at him. Iroh nodded back. You jumped off the railing into the water. Before your feet touched the water, it turned to ice underneath you. You whistled loud for Zuko to join you. He gave his uncle one last hug before he jumped over the railing too.

Landing hard on the ice platform, you had created. He sunk to his knees from the impact as you helped him up by his elbow. Taking a firm stand, you started swaying your hands around you. The ice platform got in motion as you bend the movement of the water. The ice platform making a way through the ice cold water to get to the Northern water tribe. Zuko had his fists up, ready to fire at anyone trying to attack. His gaze fell on you, seeing you bend the water so gracefully yet with strength.

Above your head you saw balls of fire being launched at the water tribe. Your hatred for Zhao, Admiral now, growing more. – “There is a secret entrance underneath the water.” – Zuko let out, keeping an eye out for it. You felt the movement of the water in your bones, feeling connected to it.

“There.” – you told him bending the platform over to it. The platform came to a stop as Zuko exhaled deep, a bit of flame coming out of his mouth. You came standing by his side. – “You don’t have to do this.” – he told you. – “Together.” – you reminded him holding your hand out to him. Zuko stared at your hand, then up to your warm smile. He clasped his hand in yours without a word. Both of you jumped into the water. The cold giving you a brief shock. You let go of Zuko’s hand underwater to swim. Dive and swim closer to the entrance.

Zuko emerged first, gasping loud for air. – “Y/n?” – he said looking around. You hadn’t emerged yet as he slightly started to panic. Your head came above, taking a soft breath. – “Here.” – you said as he sighed relieved. Zuko and you swam to the edge, having found a way into the Northern water tribe. Zuko helped you out of the water.

Your eye fell upon the moon high above. – “Y/n.” – Zuko called out waiting for you to join him. – “Y/n let’s go!” - he ordered seeing you waste time by staring at the moon. Hesitantly you came in motion, joining his side. – “I just want the Avatar.” – Zuko said to remind you. The two of you found a way outside. In shock, you stared at the chaos. Fire everywhere. The water tribe, your kin, fighting with every might against the roaring flames.

It pained your heart to see it come to this. Zhao had lost his mind. Zuko noticed you were captivated by it. He knew your heart would be bleeding from seeing this. He returned to you, grabbing you by your wrist. – “Don’t look.” – he said pulling you away. A ball of fire clashed into an ice structure above. It made some brocks of ice crumble down. You bended them away before they could crush Zuko and you.

Zuko gave you a complimenting look before going his way. You remained outside, making sure no one would follow him. The moon caught your eye again as you felt like it was trying to say something. A warning before the storm. It made you swallow nervously, unaware of what was happening down in the sacred pond.

“Zhao!” – Iroh called out with anger. – “Whatever you do to that spirit, I will unleash on you tenfold!” – Zhao laid on the ground, holding the moon spirit under his grip. He grinned, chuckling even. With trembling cheeks, he drove the blade into the moon spirit. The moon disappeared, leaving the world in a gloomy view.

You stood outside, gasping loud as suddenly the moon was gone. Your hands felt weird as you couldn’t bend anymore. Looking at your trembling hands, you couldn’t figure out what had happened. You gasped hearing fire benders come in sight. They pointed at you, firing a blast at you. Now defenceless, you couldn’t do much. You were able to deflect one or two from moving out of the way, but the third one hit you. A blast of fire hitting you in the chest.

The pain was excruciating as it send you down. It had knocked you off balance. Getting slowly up, your side felt heavily bruised. There was another blast as you couldn’t out run it. It made you cry out, falling back into the snow. Clutching your side, it felt wet. Looking at your hand, you saw it was blooded. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you forced out, dragging yourself forwards into the snow. You had lost sight of Zuko a while ago. You remained still, hoping they would presume you were dead and move on.

Trying hard not to tremble, you waited till the sounds died out. Although it wasn’t easy in this chaos. Water benders that could bend no more, falling down. Struck by fire. Your breathing became shallow as you forced yourself up. Knees weak as they could barely hold you up. Weakened and bleeding, you shuffled forwards, pushing yourself forwards. – “Zuko…Zuko…” – you would whisper in search for him.

Zuko panted loud as he came outside. His first reaction was to look around for you. – “Y/n?” – he said suddenly noticing the moon was gone. The world turned grim. He saw water benders around him try to bend with no success. His eyes widened, knowing it must happen to you as well. – “Y/n!” – he called out, running to look for you. You found your way to a bridge, shivering as you tried to keep your eyes open.

Another person came running towards you as it made you look. They came to a sudden stop in shock. Your expression hardened. – “Zhao!” – you said bitter. Zhao stared in shock at you, till he saw how weakened you were. He straightened his posture with a chuckle. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Moving your hands forwards you expected him to be hit by water. Yet nothing came.

Remembering again, you turned your hand to you, shaking with realization. Zhao laughed loud at your vulnerability. – “What’s the matter princess, can’t bend?” – Zhao mocked. – “Don’t worry.” – he said taking a stand. – “I still can.” – he finished punching fire at you. The impact made you fall back, crying in pain. You pulled yourself back up with every might of you. You weren’t going to let him win easily.

“You can’t win from me.” – he said teasingly. You took a stand with buckling knees and trembling hands. The side of your dress already stained with blood. Zhao readied himself to fire at you again, when he got interrupted by another blast of fire. – “Zhao!” – turning your head a bit, you saw Zuko come in sight. – “You took everything from me!” – he shouted bending more fire at him. Zhao got knocked back.

Zuko put all his anger into his bending, overwhelming Zhao with fire. Zhao crawled up to the side of the bridge, leaning against it. Worn out. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you said, drawing his attention to you. Zuko’s eyes widened seeing the state of you. Your knees gave in, making you collapse. Zuko caught you before your body could hit the ground. Zhao wanted to get up as he got hit by fire, the wall of the bridge, collapsing as he got blasted through it.

Iroh had a murderous look in his eye, his hands still in position. Zuko looked with concern at you. – “How… who did…” – he asked looking at the blood on your dress. He placed his hand against your cheek, to stop you from trembling. – “Y/n.” – Zuko said, his gaze soft, eyes glossy. – “Y/n.” – he repeated when you weren’t giving him much reaction.

“Y/n.” – he said more desperate as the pain reflected in his eyes. He looked down at your chest, seeing it barely move, hinting your breathing was dimming out. – “No, no no no no, Y/n!” – he called out panicking. – “Y/n!” – his eyes teary now. He panted out a breath, desperate to get a reaction out of you. – “Y/n!” – he called out again, shaking your shoulder. – “No! no!” – he cried out followed by a scream of agony. Iroh lowered his head in respect, grieving for his nephew. – “Please… Y/n please… don’t leave me yet…” – he said letting his forehead lean against yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/n.” – he sobbed out. – “Come back to me.” – his voice cracked a bit as a tear fell on your cheek. He shakily pressed his lips onto your forehead. – “I am not done with you. You still haven’t scolded me enough.” – he said in the hopes it would break a reaction out of you. – “Please Y/n… I…I… damn it!” – he cursed out. – “You cannot make me care for you and leave me like this!” – he outed in pain.

“So you care.” – you muttered weakly with a cough. Zuko’s eyes widened, looking down at you. You slowly opened your eyes, giving him a faint smile. Zuko grabbed your cheek, forcing his lips down on you. Your eyes widened more. His kiss was tender and soft. – “Look what you made me do Y/n.” – he said with a smile through his tears.

It made you chuckle out a laugh, only to be reminded of your pain once more. – “Uncle!” – Zuko called out. Iroh came running over, helping you up. Zuko picked you up in his arms, as you were still too weak to walk. – “We need to get to the ship now!” – he ordered. His uncle nodded firm. – “I’ll clear the way.” – he said not taking his task lightly.

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

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pandoraslxna · 6 months

Text

Classified briefing

Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: Briefings can be so boring. Luckily, Quaritch has his favorite little lap warmer with him to make to whole thing so much more entertaining.

Warnings: explicit smut, no plot at all just porn, in public, age difference, size difference, cockwarming but with toys, authority kink, voyeurism, sex toys (anal plug, vibrator/dildo), public humiliation, everyone kinda thirsts over reader because this is my dirty little fantasy hehe

Notes: i wrote this back in august and then totally forgot about it until now so here it is, not proofread at all and not my best work either lol

There’s a long, polished table that stretches across the center of the room. The table's sleek design exudes elegance, and the smooth surface reflects the room's cold, overhead lighting. It makes you feel even more out of place than you already were.

You can’t help the tremble of you knees once your eyes fall to Dr. Garvin and Mick Scoresby, both of them considered big fish in their area of expertise. You swallow dryly, nervousness slowly creeping up under your skin.

A gentle push to your lower back signals you to move, and then your feet automatically carry you further into the conference room. Most seats are already taken up, each person exuding an air of authority and importance, and a hushed silence falls over them as you near the table.

Glancing to the handful of free seats and based on their ridiculous size, you could only assume who they were reserved for.

The recoms act like a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Pushing each other in a fight for the seats in the far back, snickering and cursing, and you want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands for all the attention they draw on themselves and ultimately on you, too.

Thankfully, they all fall silent once the Colonel clears his throat and takes the first seat, thighs spread like he owns the place. Again, you feel so out of place, frantically looking around to find a place to sit and make yourself even smaller than you already were, next to those trees of blue soldiers.

But before you can even do as much as blink, all chairs seem to be occupied and you find yourself standing, nervously fiddling with the seam of your skirt, before two big hands grab your hips and pull you down to sit on a warm lap.

In all honesty, you were already expecting him to pull a stunt like this. Obviously there had to be a reason for him to bring you here, and not just because he thought you were oh, so interested in a meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you or your work at all.

Quaritch grins and pulls you closer by your waist, a huff of breath fanning over the top of your head at your little whine of discomfort.

Sitting down makes you hyperaware of the round little silicon toy, the plug that’s sitting snug inside your ass since he himself had placed it there a couple of hours before.

"Be good while I work and I’ll reward you later", he reminds you quietly, squeezing your hips in a warning grip and you nod, blushing. But the faint rosy color on your cheeks soon turns into a deep flush of red that spreads all the way to the tip of your ears, once Miles pulls a little, pink remote, barely the size of your thumb, out of his pocket and places it on the table right in front of your face. You know what this is for. Not for the plug, no, but for the other toy that’s spreading your pussy open, the one you’re currently clamping down on.

For a moment, all your attention is fixed on staying still, not moving too much like that would remind him to turn the switch on and—

"With all respect, Colonel", a voice suddenly speaks up, then a finger is pointed at you and your breath hitches in your throat. "What is she doing here?"

Scoresby looks at you, then back up at Quaritch, and while he doesn’t speak to you directly, the message is clear. It seems Miles feels the way you tense up, because his hands begin to run up and down your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over your skin.

"Keeping my lap warm", he grins and shrugs in an act of fake innocence, and Scoresbys jaw clenches so tight at the sound of snickering coming from the other recoms, that you‘re sure you just heard something crack.

He actually looks a little relieved at the voice of Dr. Garvins as he politely chimes in, "She’s from the scientific department, sir. That means she’s certainly not qualified enough to b–"

"I- I can leave, it’s okay", you cut him off, causing all present pair of eyes to fall onto your smaller frame. Your attempt to stand up however, is quickly interrupted by Quaritchs arm around your middle, pulling you back down and keeping you there, firm and secured. No chance to flee.

"No, you won’t."

The tension in the air is thick enough, you could probably cut it with scissors. There’s a uncomfortable silence, before the Colonel opens his mouth again, smug as ever, "Her qualifications are none of your concerns, doctor. In fact, I am her qualification to be here. Now if you would please move on and wrap this up so we can all go on with our days? I have other businesses to attend to."

Dr. Garvin, in no mood to argue with the recom that’s over twice his size, straightens up, clears his throat, nods, and moves to the center of the room to stand in front of a big holographic map.

His voice is still a little shaky, a thin layer of nervous sweat sitting on his forehead as he starts the briefing like nothing’s ever happened. The recoms sitting to your left and right instantly scoot back in their seats, settling into more comfortable positions like they’ve been through enough meetings like these to know this could take an awful while.

You allow yourself to finally exhale the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, shoulders hunching a little as you try to listen to what was being said in front of you.

Something about na’vi clans, metkayina, the ocean, weapons, their relations to something they call Tulkun and then over time, it flows into all that war talk you can barely keep up with.

Not that you could actually focus, really focus, on anything other than the pair of hands roaming up and down your thighs the whole time and the feeling of being so full, so on edge, but not being able to do anything about it. His palms are warm and rough on the soft of your skin, squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh from time to time, which causes you to clamp down on the toys inside you. You close your eyes briefly- inhale, exhale.

When you open them again, you desperately try to find something else to put your focus on. Next to you sits Lyle, the Corporal plays with a pen, flicks it around in skilled fingers, looking just as bored as the rest of team deja blue. It’s actually quite interesting to look at, you think. That is, until he catches you staring. Your eyes meet and he winks at you. Straightening up, you glance in the other direction, trying to hide to blush spreading over your cheeks.

Lyle may be an exception when it came to Quaritch‘s possessiveness, but that doesn’t mean the Colonel won’t tease you for this.

Your whole body tenses when suddenly, a low vibrating buzz shoots through your core, putting your nerves on fire. The suddenness of it all gives you barely any time to stifle the gasp that falls from your parted lips, quieting down the whole room. Your ears are ringing, pleasure surging through you in pulsating waves, before Quaritch switches the toy off again. Well, not entirely off, but at least to the lowest setting. Enough for you to calm down again.

Blinking away the stars behind your eyelids, you realize, to your absolute horror, that Dr. Garvin has stopped talking. And he is staring right at you, mouth slightly agape. And so are some of the other humans. The other half that’s not looking at you, is trying their absolute most to keep it that way, staring at the papers in front of them or counting the tiles on the ceiling.

"Excuse her. Normally she knows how to behave", Quaritch breaks the nerve wrecking silence with a chuckle, "Please, move on."

Garvin clears his throat, sweat now beading at his temples as he stutters to continue where he had left off.

"Corporal Weinfleet here is trying to concentrate, darlin'", Miles hums lowly into your ear, hands gripping your waist to pull you down harder against his lap. "And you’re being very distractive."

His hands hold you down, and then he makes your waist circle on his crotch, hard enough to feel the plugs heart shaped handle grind against his cock.

"S-Sorry, I’m sorry", you whimper quietly, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any more noise.

"Don’t tell that to me", he grins. One of his hands then tips your chin up and gently turns you to look over to his right hand man, who’s grinning back at you like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks.

"Sorry, Lyle", you mutter, big doe eyes looking up at the recom.

You know there are important words being said. Things about trade, unions, Tulkun, hunting, Sully and all the work that still needed to be done to catch this guy you’ve heard so much of. Over an hour has passed of nothing but strategizing and thinly veiled arguments and it’s safe to stay, you’re slowly loosing the battle against your own body’s desires.

The vibrator still weakly buzzes inside you, and you struggle not to squirm on Quaritch’s lap, you really do. But it’s just so difficult.

Your breathing has started to come out in shallow pants, nerves being on edge for way too long now, and then Quaritch leans forward, curling a piece of hair behind your ear so that he can murmur into it.

"Relax, princess", Quaritch whispers. "Just trying to take the edge off for you…" Your lace panties are absolutely soaked with arousal by now, and your teeth scrape over your bottom lip as you inhale sharply through your nose when he flicks the switch and the vibrations turn more intense. Your toes curl. But you don’t move. "Good girl, doing so good for me. That feel good, hm?"

Motherf— "Yes, sir", you shakily exhale. Just a little more, you think. A little more and you could… if only you weren’t in a room full of people.

Miles fingertips stroke gently up your thigh, causing little goosebumps to appear and your entire body to shiver at his caress. It’s a battle not to tighten every muscle against it, to let it roll through you for everyone to see, because the alternative is far more dangerous. You know for certain that he wouldn’t have even the teeny tiny littlest bit of a problem with bending you over this table and fucking you raw for the whole conference room to see, if you wouldn’t behave and sit still. You swallow thickly at the thought and fuck, you wished you didn’t bought that mental image up because you clench around the plug, around the vibrator, feeling both toys rub against each other through the thin wall that’s separating them.

Someone coughs at the other side of the table and your eyes flicker up to Scoresby, sitting three down at the head of the table. He’s watching you with a cocked eyebrow and a barely concealed glint in his eye.

He knows, you think. You can see it in the way he looks at you, filthy and creepy and— Another wave of pleasure shoots through you like lightning, the vibrations picking up and it causes your entire body, including the walls of your aching holes, to tighten even more, and the tiniest little whimper to escape from the hollow of your throat before you can swallow it down.

Your cheeks flush, the tips of your ears heat, and you quickly turn your attention back to Quaritch just as he opens his mouth.

"You like having that nasty fucker look at you, huh?"

You try your very best not to keen from the feel of your sticky underwear clinging to your pussy, pushing the toys deeper in as he pulls them up a little, giving you a mean wedgie under the table.

"N-No, sir", you whisper.

"But you’re putting on quite the show." Miles grins, sharp toothed and mischievously, his eyes boring into Scoresby until he finally adverts his gaze, his nervousness covered by yet another cough.

"I‘m– I’m n-not…", is all you manage to force out, panting heavily.

Your back arches and just like that, the vibrator is at the perfect position. Just up against your g-spot, the silicon tip rubbing so slightly against the oversensitive ridges.

Your fingers grasp at his forearms, blunt nails dig deep into the thick blue skin, as you focus more on clinging to him than how full you feel, how each breath you take makes the toys move ever so slightly to tease you deep inside and how the vibrations are on their highest level, ruining you from the inside out and causing your whole body to physically shudder.

You’re so ridiculously wet, natural lubricant squeezing around the toys, drenching your panties and now soaking a small patch onto his pants where you’re seated. It feels good. So good, and you’re so close and everyone can probably hear how heavy you’re breathing, so you think fuck it and rock forward with the smallest ”mmh” and a bolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. Quaritch can feel his cock twitch with the growth of his own impatience.

"Look who’s getting bold", he chuckles quietly, and you dare to roll your hips forward. "You want to come, huh? So close, ain’t ya?"

You feel eyes on you. Prager as he dares to put a hand over his cargos and squeeze his aching cock. Mansk staring so shamelessly at you, like his sunglasses make him invisible. Feel Lyle next to you tilt his head to try and catch a glimpse of what’s underneath your skirt.

Feel Miles hands on your hips, tight enough they might bruise your skin as he rocks you back and forth on his crotch, clit dragging over the wet fabric of your panties.

"Please", you whine softly, eyes fluttering close as you let pleasure overtake all your senses, not even caring for the fact that you’re in a room full of people.

"M‘not holding you back, darlin'", he speaks lowly into your ear, bouncing his leg a few times to push those toys just an inch deeper inside you. "Come, if you can keep it down."

Your brain had completely checked out sometime around when your abdomen began to clench with your exasperated breathing and the throbbing between your thighs became so unbearable, you slumped forward. The cold table top against the burning hot skin of your forehead felt like a relief and you had to bite your tongue hard, to not moan out loud.

The vibrations inside your core felt like they were shaking and stimulating ever single nerve there was, to the point all you could do was let it happen. Your whole body felt hot, sticky with sweat and other body fluids as you clamped down on both toys for the final time, before you fell apart with a choked little gasp, followed by silent whimpers of, "Hngh– fuck, f-fuck!"

"There you go, buttercup", you heard Lyle snicker next to you, only adding further to the humiliation you tried so hard to ignore. "About time."

Your whole body locked up, thighs squeezing shut and muscles tensing, as you tried your absolute most to hold back all those pathetic little noises.

"You owe me twenty bucks, Mansk. Told ya‘ she can’t hold it in", came as a whisper from your left, yet you couldn’t put your focus on that voice enough to figure out who was speaking. Ja maybe, or, or… fuuck, fucking hell.

The vibrations inside you went on and on for as long as Quaritch doomed you were capable of, and it felt like you were still coming, until he finally, mercifully, decided to shut the toy off.

It was almost comically how you instantly went slack on his lap, the moment the vibrator inside you stopped working. The content little sigh that left your parted lips was all you could hear, as the room had turned awkwardly silent over the past few minutes.

Then, a dark chuckle sent a chill down your spine, as Quaritch looked over at Garvins stunned frame and said, "You were saying, doc?"

#colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader smut #miles smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch smut #atwow quaritch #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #avatar quaritch #quaritch x you #quaritch fanfic #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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krypticcafe · 1 year

Note

Okay so we’ve got the boys reacting to being called babygirl, but how would their partner react to being babygirlified??

When they call you babygirl (COD:MWII)

rating: mature

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, suggestiveness, angst, a smidge of a graphic injury, general military violence, no beta read haha

a/n: reminder to all my gn and masc readers that I'm using babygirl in a gender-neutral context and so is the reader!! Also, I can't guarantee that it'll all be lighthearted as the last part but I can guarantee y'all eatin good tonight :)))

Gaz

Funnily enough, he purrs it out when you come to bed after a long day of work, pulled into his side the moment you laid down.

"How's my babygirl doing? Good, yeah?"

You're stunned, surprised at the fact that he even used it at all.

He's amused by your reaction and presses a soft kiss to your head, making a mental note to use it more often like this.

Like him, you try not to fall too into the feeling, but he already knows the effect on you.

Luckily for you, he doesn't abuse it, but almost torments you with it, using it in private or a soft tone that only you can hear.

But you like it. It's intimate, a little special in how he uses it to get you smiling or flustered. Much like a lot of other aspects of your relationship, it's something you can trust him with and be respectful about.

Most of the time, you'll find him using it on a sleepy morning, arms around your waist with his chest against your back and his face nestled on your shoulder blade, mumbling a "mornin'" or a "how'd you sleep last night?"

For him, it's best when he can get real close to you and just pour his affections out with that simple little nickname.

He watches you stumble out of bed while he pours a cup of coffee for the two of you and smiles innocently when he offers it.

"Sleep well last night, baby-"

"You are so damn lucky I love you." You warn, taking the cup and rolling your eyes when he laughs.

Don't worry, he knows he's one lucky bastard.

Price

"Atta soldier, how's my babygirl holding up?"

He's watching proudly from afar while you finish pummeling through a group of enemies like it's nothing.

"Doin' alright Captain, we're clear to push on." You respond with confidence.

But you don't tell him that his comment through the comms alone nearly threw you off your rhythm.

He uses it again when you're all at the pub celebrating another landmark success, subtly bragging while half-drunk about how you carried the team today.

A part of you is mortified not just because Price tends to open up a little too much when he's drunk, but also because you hated the fact that you liked hearing him call you that in the first place, how you didn't need a drink for your mouth to get dry and your face warm. Not to mention it was in public—practically a declaration that you belonged to him.

Not that you minded.

His grip grows firm on your side while he speaks with admiration, your face grows warm since one, he was calling you that in front of so many others, and two, he didn't just hand out praise to anyone so when he meant it, he really meant it.

Later when you're both headed to your shared quarters, he asks, "So were you havin' a fever earlier or..?"

Of course he noticed.

You explain to him it just caught you off guard, that's all. Especially when he says it in such a way.

In the back of your head, you hoped he'd be too drunk to remember this in the morning but knowing him...

"I see... well then, we'll just have to put that to the test tonight, won't we?"

You have no objections.

Soap

"There's my babygirl, been lookin' for that smile since we been back."

After a particularly rough mission, Soap had been glued to your side for the past hour or so, talking it out with you.

When a particularly dumb joke of his finally cracked you, that's when he said it.

You groan, still laughing while leaning your head into his shoulder, muttering about how "irresistibly insufferable" he could be sometimes.

"So you admit I'm irresistible?"

That gets him a lighthearted punch on his chest and some more hearty laughter out of the two of you.

You now find him using it here and there to get a smile out of you. He's got an eye for when you're a little more tense or stressed than usual.

He doesn't use it in excess either, he's sweet and soft about it, not as casual with the pet names as some would think.

Oh, but don't take it for granted because he can and will tease you. You like to blame him for your ability to keep your guard up for so long and for his ability to somehow find new ways to break it again and again.

And while you think it's a horribly corny pet name, you know he has nothing but good intentions, and you can't ignore the way it makes your heart flutter.

He loves it too, he's a sucker for giving and receiving cheesy nicknames, stuff that really gets a reaction out of you but doesn't cross the line.

"If you don't like it, then why dinnae you give me a different thing to call you?" Cue the McTavish SmirkTM, and you wonder what he has planned this time. And like how you got yourself into this relationship- you decide to humor him.

"You already call me 'love' and 'sugar', I don't think you need any more to torment me with, McTavish."

"I don't know... I'm thinkin' 'my fiancé' sounds pretty damn good."

"But I'm not your-"

Oh.

Ghost

You're thrown into the air and onto the ground after a blast hits, one so loud that you're left hearing nothing for several seconds.

Out of the chaos, you hear Ghost call your name, and you try to stand only to fall back into a pair of arms.

"It's me- it's me." He lowers you down onto his lap and looks over you, "Fucking hell... what did they do to you?"

You realize what he's talking about when you try to hold yourself while gasping for breath, but find a cold metal rod jutting out of your abdomen.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you up, we're gonna get to the others-" He halts when you scream out in pain and lowers you back down.

"Nonono- please Simon, it hurts, it fucking hurts so much I can't-"

His heart breaks at the sound of you choking on words, holding you closer, and trying to reassure you (and himself because he's never had his heart pounding so hard and his mask feel so damn suffocating and god dammit he can't afford to lose someone again-)

"I know, I know, I got you babygirl, I got you. It's alright now, but I'm not leaving you like this. You're gonna be alright, it's gonna be okay."

You can only nod your head, tightening your hold around his neck when he carries you. It feels pathetic every time you let out a yelp or sob of pain, but Simon's patient, he's constantly giving you reassurance and letting you know that there's just a bit more left to go. At some point, you let exhaustion take over your body.

Thankfully, you wake up laying in an infirmary bed, with a sleepless Simon at your side. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Could be better," You cringe at how hoarse your voice is and thank Simon when he gives you a cup of water, "You seem worse than me to be honest."

"Yeah? 'n whose fault is that? Oh right, the one who took a pipe to the stomach."

Rolling your eyes, you try to remember the last things you saw before blacking out and smirk to yourself when it comes back to you.

"So, since when were you a "babygirl" type of guy? Is it a common thing in Manchester, or are you just that soft for me, Lieutenant?"

"Maybe I should've just left you there." He groans, and you scoff, laughing as you shove at him. Even if he's shit with words, you know deep down he would never have the guts to do so.

Only a fool would.

König

Let's be honest, he'd only really say it after you've said it to him.

You don't push him, knowing he just has trouble trying to get a natural feel for it and it's not a huge deal. Plus, you already adore all the other names he's given you, most of which are more familiar and natural for him to say with them being in his native language.

Unfortunately, one night at the bar, you find someone else directing the particular nickname at you.

"Hey babygirl, what's a cutie like you doing all alone here?"

But fortunately, you were in fact, not alone.

Konig rises from the barstool behind you and his height alone should have the person pissing their pants.

"You should mind whose 'babygirl' you're talking to, arschloch."

You know what? Close enough.

You turn back to check on König and wow, that. Is. A. Sight.

König's chest rises and falls with his aggravated breathing and you find yourself lost in how intense his glare is while he watches the person scamper away. His words are on a loop in your head with how the rasp and snarl in his voice have your stomach twisting and your heart running laps.

You'd never admit it to him, but you have to repress all of your urges whenever he gets like this on the battlefield. Christ.

"You alright?" You breathlessly sigh, wrapping a hand around his.

His tension instantly melts at your touch and you smile at that.

"I should be asking you that..." He murmurs, almost ashamed as if he had any reason to be.

"Oh I'm more than fine now."

An idea comes to you.

"I'd be even better if you can tell me what you just said to them, perhaps in private? I don't think I can hear with how noisy it is in here" You snicker, tugging him closer.

You just absolutely know he's burning under that hood when his eyes go wide.

"I'm just kidding, liebe," you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, "But honestly? That was kinda hot. Whaddya say we get outta here and cuddle tonight?"

His response is a quick and eager nod, making you laugh and whisk him away to your quarters.

Roach

Ah if only you weren't such a curious soul.

You overheard some of your teammates call each other "babygirl", which made you wonder if there was a sign for it.

You blurted out this question to your boyfriend, not thinking much of it because, hey, you always asked him about signs you weren't sure of or hadn't quite learned yet, or in this case, pure curiosity.

He stares at you dumbfounded before signing the words.

"Oh, so it's literally just 'baby' and 'girl'?"

He nods, "Yeah. What, do you want me to start calling you that or something?"

He lets out stifled laughs when he sees the look of realization on you before you throw your burning face in your hands.

"I'm a damn idiot."

"I know you are."

You nearly strangle him for that comment.

You make him forget about the conversation, but he keeps the thought in the back of his head for future reference because oh you are so gonna regret this >:)

After a mission, he comes up to you and asks, "How'd it go? My babygirl didn't get too roughed up this time, did you?"

"No, I'm good, wasn't a huge bust-" You stop organizing your gear right then and there, mentally replay what he signed, and slowly turn your head, narrowing your eyes at him. "-you little shit! I told you forget about that!"

"But you like it, don't you? You're trying so hard not to smile right now!" He gushes.

"Sanderson, I'm gonna kill you!" You run after him, chasing him around before tackling him down to the ground.

"I could get used to this." He muses, "Maybe you should call me babygirl, kinda suits me too. Oh! We should get matching patches, don't you think?"

"..."

"Wait where are you going—"

Hound

This time, you had been separated from your team for days after a mission had gone horribly wrong, with no way to communicate otherwise you'd all be jeopardized before you could be rescued.

You didn't even know if there was a rescue.

Just your luck, an enemy had you cornered with the audacity to use your own gun against you. And it was your last one, too. You brace for impact only to see them get knocked out while a voice called out your name.

It was Hound. They immediately run up to you, checking you all over, hands hovering around you worriedly, "Did he hurt you? Christ, they told me that you'd be in danger if I went but shit, how am I supposed to wait when—"

They stopped the moment you began to tremble, instantly pulling you into a tight embrace, and tucking your head in their shoulder.

"Hey hey, c'mere, it's okay. I'm here now, you're gonna be alright, it's okay." He softly repeats, and you weep in relief. "Oh babygirl... they can't hurt you anymore, I promise."

It was warm and safe.

You were warm and safe.

Hound spends the evening tending to you (you told them they didn't have to, it wasn't like you had major injuries), doing your paperwork for you, getting you food, and cleaning you up.

But all you want is to get your mind away from the events of the past few days, a distraction to feel good, feel safe, and feel loved, and he happily complies with your every need for the night.

"Figured you'd need some help after last night... sorry about that." They sheepishly mumble.

You wake up the next morning in your shared quarters, sore but in a pleasant way. The door opens and it's none other than your partner with a plate from the mess hall.

You pull them down for a quick kiss and thank them, telling them not to worry about it as you take the plate.

"You need anything else babygirl, or-"

You choke on a piece of scrambled egg, and they're already rubbing your back, holding back laughter.

"Whoops, should've waited until you were done, I didn't think you'd get so- I mean I thought after last night—" He's practically giggling now and while you'd normally relish in such a rare sight, you whine at him.

"But seriously, if you need anything, I'm there in a heartbeat."

You nod and thank whatever higher being out there for such a patient partner.

a/n pt2: hope the ghost and hound bbygirls enjoyed the "creative liberties" I took because I know I did teehee- anyways lmk how y'all feeling after that :)))

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

Let me (put my lips to somethin')

Joel Miller x f!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

1. boston qz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that true?”

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

“When was that?”

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

“And what happened to your foot?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

2. bill and frank’s

“No. I said no, come back here!”

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

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

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

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

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

“And yet you drank most of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah. You can stay for a minute.”

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

Joel snorted.

“You look like a goddamn cat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

3. road, somewhere in missouri

You had no idea how long you had been driving.

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

That is, if you manage to stay awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you need to get some rest–”

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

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

“Pull over.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I already did. Now scoot over.”

“No, I told you–”

“What’s going on? Are we there yet?”

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

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

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

“You almost drove the car into a ditch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t drive off without me!”

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

“C’mon. I’ll find you a blanket.”

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

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

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

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

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

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

“I’d like to see you try.”

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

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

“How gracious of you. I’m honored.

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

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

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

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

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

*****

4. jackson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel gave you a dirty look.

“I’m not putting on Christmas carols.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think I’m that picky?”

“Of course you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

A loud, scratchy sound rang out.

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

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

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

“Leave it, Joel. It’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Close your eyes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like kissing him.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

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

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

You were positive you’re about to pass out.

And it felt blissful.

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

He didn’t.

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

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

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

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah.”

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Can I–”

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

“Hello! Is anybody here?!”

Ellie came back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck…

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

*****

5. basement, somewhere in colorado

He was dying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But luck still wasn’t on your side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But if there were more…

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you pulled away and ran upstairs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave her alone, you fuckers!!”

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

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

You growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

+1. silver lake

Joel woke up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Joel?”

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

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

“J-Joel…”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s your leg? Can you walk?”

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

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

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

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

And your voice, those words…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he was really not good at this.

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

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

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

Which was even worse, somehow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really couldn’t believe his luck.

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

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callsign-datura · 28 days

Text

quit talking.

frustrated simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: smut, obviously. mentions of putting a muzzle on you, not dealing with feelings, unprotected sex, bro is def a tits man (he sucks on em), oral sex (f recieving), light choking, creampieee a/n: 1k? how the hell?? thank you! :)

If there's one thing you know how to do, it's piss Ghost off. It's not really fun to you, it's more of a competitive thing. He's been in this line of work for much longer than you have, but you've been in it for long enough that you should be treated like a valuable ally than an untrained soldier, or a rookie. But for Ghost, that nickname has stuck. "C'mon, rookie, get your head straight."

"Eyes up here, rookie."

"Are you listenin', rookie?"

Your blood boils every time the word slips from his mouth. Every time he does it, you keep yourself from snapping at him. You put a smile on and follow his directions.

But sometimes it isn't so easy.

He orders you around, and tells you what to do; like a lieutenant should. Yet for some reason, you feel your chest tighten when he gives you an order. You know damn well it's a personal issue. Probably some feelings you haven't dealt with yet that you aren't ready to deal with. But you butt heads. You can tell that your defiance pisses him off and the flicker in his eyes makes something in your heart surge; something you tell yourself is satisfaction. Recently, it's been worse... maybe it was the mission last month where you were stuck in a closet together and he couldn't keep his hands to himself, or the fact he acted like it didn't even happen after. Probably both.

---------------------- "Rookie."

That damn nickname again. You snap quickly, against your better judgment; but he can't blame you. It's been a hard day of biting your tongue. "How long have I been on this team, sir?" "Not long enough to be givin' me so much attitude." He snaps back just as quickly, and usually it'd be enough to extinguish that fire, but today, it's not.

"It's been two years." "Two years of you talking' like you've known us for ten. Sorry to burst your bubble," he barks, turning his body to you as you recognize that look in his eye that you shouldn't be messing with him today. "You haven't. I'll keep callin' you 'rookie' until you get that in your head." His arms hang at his sides, his fists idly clenching and releasing as he steps towards you. "You got a problem with that?" Your eyebrows knit together and you tilted your head back as he gets close, his upper body curling to lean over yours and stare you down. Cold, brown eyes staring into yours; something that would normally give you chills. But not today. "Yes, actually, I do. I'm not a rookie anymore, I've been working with you long enough to the point I should have earned the respect I deserve." The words are slipping out. You realize how stupid it sounds and how you should have just been quiet and stopped fighting, but it feels good to get it off your chest. So you keep talking. "I'm a valuable asset to the team. I'm a good medic, a good ground unit, I'm damn good with a knife and I have good survival skills. I think those are grounds for respect from my lieutenant. Everyone else treats me well, but you." He rolls his eyes so strongly that you think it probably hurts. "You wanna know why they treat you well, rookie?" He retorts, his voice low and husky and raspy. His face is inches from yours and your senses are flooded with him; it's almost enough to get you to forget about why you were fighting in the first place. "It's 'cause everyone else knows that bein' nice to you and lettin' you act like a proper twat is better than tryin' to discipline you. You act like a child and they let you because you're too damn stubborn to get through to." The words piss you off again, and you open your mouth to respond, yet nothing comes out. "Don't." He warns. "This is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? I just want to be respected." "Nobody gives you shit anymore, rookie, but me. It sounds like you're mad that I'm the only person who gives you shit and doesn't let you get off easy."

"Because it's bullshit-" "I only give you shit when you're actin' like this." The glimmer in his eyes changes, and it becomes something you can't entirely put your finger on. "I only give you shit when you're yowlin' about 'not being respected' when you know damn well you are, you're just angry that I'm mean to you." "'Cause you are!"

"I am because I know that's the only way you listen." He says, his voice returning to something stable. "It's like you hate me."

Oh. His eyes flare again, this time with recognition. "That's what this is about? You think I hate you?"

"Well, sometimes..." Your voice lowers and you avoid eye contact with him, trying to focus on anything but the monster of a man in your proximity. "Sometimes it feels like it."

"Really? And that's why you're constantly puttin' up such a fight with me? 'Cause you think I hate you?" His voice turns... amused. Jesus Christ, he's enjoying this. "Yes, and--" You try to retort, but you can't think of anything. Your mind blanks. "And..." Embarrassment burns hot on your cheeks and you shut your eyes. He chuckles quietly. "That's fucked, sweetheart. You're not gonna believe me, even if I talk till I'm blue,"

"As if I could see." You snap, looking away. "...N' even if I talk, you'll interrupt me." He chuckles again. His voice tenses a little as if he's irritated. He grabs your hand and starts leading you somewhere and you start talking again. "I don't know where you get off on being rude like that." He laughs, in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing." "You haven't said anything to me about that mission," you begin. Your voice is shaky. These are untrod waters, but you want an answer. "Not a damn thing. Not a text, hell, you barely look me in the eyes." "Mm." He responds, his voice higher-pitched, once again with recognition. "So it's that, too." He glances back at you, and you barely even realize where he's leading you until he pushes open the door to his quarters and pushes you inside, stepping in too, and shutting the door behind him. "You're mad about that? That we haven't talked about that?" You open your mouth, but the surprise doesn't let you say anything. So you nod, looking around the room. It's bland. Very... Ghost. "I haven't said anythin' to you about it 'cause even thinkin' about it makes it difficult for me to see you in a professional light." He pauses. "It shouldn't have happened. If anyone finds out, it'd be me taking advantage of you,"

"That wasn't what happened, though. I was asking you--" "Quit." He snaps, his hand coming up to cup your chin and hold your jaw, urging you to stay quiet. "Quit interruptin' me, fuck. You talk a lot, you know that?" His other hand goes to the zipper of your jacket, pulling at it and unzipping it. Your eyes flicker down to watch his hand, and you stay quiet.

He chuckles again and shakes his head, his eyes wide with disbelief and amusement... some mix of the two. "Now you're quiet. When you're gettin' what you want. Dunno what I expected." He lets go of your jaw and pulls your jacket off, tossing it to the side and turning both of you, backing you up against the door.

"I don't hate you... Quite the opposite." He murmurs, his voice softening. You watch as his thumb hooks into the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his nose as he leans in and puts his other hand on your waist. He goes for your neck, and you tilt your head instinctively. More than happy to obey. "It's jus' the fact that this is entirely unethical. No matter how we put it... it's unethical." He kisses the flesh of your neck, lips dancing along the softness there, testing for any sweet spots. He nips when he feels you tremble. "...Now that isn't to say I didn't enjoy it... 'cause I did. I dream about it, pet," his voice shakes and his grip on you tightens. "Fuckin' dream about it."

The vulnerability at this moment makes your body heat up. Warmth is building in your lower stomach, and a soft noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back against the door. Your back arches as his breath ghosts your neck.

"Dream about you... n' this body, n' your voice, and your whimpers. I look at you, and I remember." He starts kissing your neck again. They're rough, and his breath is hot. You tremble again as his lips travel down, stopping at your collar as he reaches and slips the strap of your undershirt off your shoulder, and kisses the span of flesh that's been uncovered. Tongue darting out, following the contour of your collarbone, teasingly; leaving tingles in its wake that send heat straight to your cunt. "Makes it so goddamn hard to treat you like you're my teammate and not a person who haunts my dreams."

Another noise leaves your lips, and his hands slide up your sides, bringing the fabric of your undershirt with it. You lift your arms to let him, and you lock eyes for a moment. His are sparkling with lust, and he chuckles before his hands travel up your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and drops it to the side, and his lips are on your flesh again. He nips at certain spots, nibbling gently and sucking deep marks into the flesh. His kisses go from your collarbone to your breast, and his lips close around your nipple. Your body tenses and goosebumps prickle over the flesh of your chest, and you tilt your head back again, legs pressing together as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. His tongue laves over it, sending tingles of pleasure through you as your eyes flutter shut and he grunts against you. His teeth nip at it gently before he releases it, switching sides. His hands slip down your sides and move to your pants, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them and your panties down around your legs, detaching from your nipple to do so.

His gaze is immediately dragged to your cunt, and he hums low in his throat before he looks up at you. "C'mon, dove. Give me a taste, mm?" He asks, teasingly; but meaning the question entirely. Your expression twists in embarrassment, but your desire for him overrides any hesitation. And you nod. One of his hands cups the underside of your leg, lifting it up and to the side as he litters kisses along the inside of it. Having him so close to you makes your entire body shudder and a moan leaves your lips, your hand coming down to cup his head as you watch him. It's a lewd sight, but the view makes you tingle. He bites down lightly and a whine leaves your lips as you lightly swat his head. He chuckles in response and looks up at you, pulling away from your thigh to litter kisses over your cunt. You're wet enough to the point he can fucking see it; and your face flushes a bit more in embarrassment and you tilt your head back. You shudder, tilting your hips forward and chasing a bit more friction... and he delivers. His tongue darts out, dragging up between your labia to catch your clit. Your body shudders and you give a sharp whine. The feeling is electric, and you already feel something building in your stomach, yet you try to suppress it in turn for just feeling the sensation. His other hand comes up and his thumb pulls at the flesh, lightly spreading you out for his convenience, his lips closing around your clit as he grunts and the vibration of it turns into straight heat and makes you twitch. He sucks gently and you mewl, your hips shifting away from the unfamiliar sensation, forcing him to detach before he pulls you back in and clicks his tongue.

"Come on now, pet. You wanted this, didn't you? Stay still." You whine in affirmation, looking down once again and gasping as he buries his face into you once more. He dips his tongue into you, and his eyes roll briefly as he grunts at the taste of you; something that he'd get addicted to easily. Hell, he's already addicted to you; why not? He pushes his tongue into you for a moment, groaning again. His grip on the underside of your thigh tightens and he brings it upward a bit more, resting it over his shoulder as his hand slips up your tummy, giving the pudge there a little squeeze before he switches his attention to your clit, lapping his tongue over it slowly and gently. Each swipe sends heat into you, your walls clamping around on nothing, moans leaving your lips as he keeps his head buried into you. The sensations are mounting and he laps his tongue a bit faster to elicit more reactions from you.

Your hips buck into the sensation and a squeal leaves your lips. His hand slips back to cup your hip, pulling you further into him as he laps at your clit again and again. The hand keeping your labia spread shifts downward, and you jolt as he presses his middle and pointer finger against your hole, circling the flesh to gather your slick. The movement of his tongue stalls for a moment until he pushes his fingers into you, and he laps again, but much faster this time, grunting out in satisfaction at the way your walls flutter around his fingers and suck them in more. Moans leave your lips and your body tenses up, a cry leaving the moan before you shift down a little to push into his fingers. He curls them, feeling along your inner walls slowly and gently to find that spot that'll make you quiver, and he does; your hips buck again and you cry once more, the pleasure overloading your senses and rendering you to a whimpering mess. He laps away at your clit again, eating like a man starved; curling those two fingers on your g-spot and rubbing his fingertips against it slowly, gently.

The sensation causes the cord in your tummy to tighten. It doesn't take more of his assault to throw you over the edge; he continues, with an increased fervor upon feeling you tense around his fingers and hearing your noises take on a desperate edge. He pulls you closer, grunting into your pussy as you cry out and ball your hands into fists, grinding a little into the friction as your vision goes white and you sob his name. You continue, riding out your orgasm and whimpering his name quietly. His movements stop after your noises quiet, and he withdraws his fingers and pulls back to look up at you, making sure you're looking at him before he pulls his fingers apart; showing you the string of your fluid that connects them between breaking. He chuckles a bit and stands up as he looks you over. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper softly, tilting your head back. Your body relaxes, but not for long as you hear a zipper being undone. Your eyes open just as he turns you around and pins you against the wall. One hand against the wall between your waist and your arm, his lips on the back of your shoulder as his other hand comes to your waist, pulling back you back against him. You give a surprised noise and he chuckles. "What? D'you think we were done?" You don't respond, and he hums. "Good. 'Cause we aren't." He pushes against you as you arch your back, your eyes widening as you feel his cock pressing against your cunt; a whine leaving your lips before he pulls his hand from your hip to wrap around the base of him, adjusting himself to rest the tip of his cock against your hole, watching as you flutter around him. He chuckles softly at the sight, and puts his hand on your lower stomach, slowly guiding his hips forward. His cock slips into you with ease, and you feel a faint stinging pain from the stretch, but the full feeling his cock gives you distracts you from the pain. It's familiar, almost; like your body remembers how he fit inside you. Your slick coats his cock, making the fit a bit more easy. He groans softly into your ear, the feeling of you around him more than heavenly. "Fuck. S'fuckin tight. Mm... like you were made for me, hm?"

He grunts quietly as he feels you pulse around him, and he tilts his hips slightly, cupping your lower tummy as he grinds into you testingly. A whine leaves your lips, but you don't stop him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you feel some sort of sense of relief at finally being filled; by him. His breath fans over your shoulder as he grinds into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours; pulling out a bit before pushing forward and rubbing his hips into yours. He continues like this, one hand sliding up your front and wrapping around your throat, a gentle hold that keeps your head still. Your eyes keep shut, eager moans leaving your lips as you push back into him. For a few moments he continues this movement, just reveling in the feeling of your cunt around him before he begins thrusting. Slowly, at the same pace, raking his cock in and out of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you tighten a bit around him, eliciting groans from him. His movements speed up and the hand on your lower stomach slips downward, his middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. You lurch a little and give a little cry, still feeling a bit overstimulated from the previous activities.

That sensation leaves almost immediately as he thrusts into you quickly, the sounds of your bodies together filling the room amongst his groans and your squeals. You lift one of your legs, tilting your head against the wall and his grip on your throat tightens as he starts rutting into you; the feeling of you is getting to him as much as the feeling of him is getting to you. Your moans increase in pitch, and your mind is scrambled by the pleasure. Your walls quiver as he continues, bullying into your cunt. He's chasing his high, and the circles he draws on your clit also increase in pace. The cord in your stomach draws taut, signalling your incoming orgasm; you can tell by his pace that he's close too. "Fuck-- Gonna cum." He warns into your shoulder, yet his pace doesn't falter.

You whimper and your chest tightens at the thought of him pulling out; wasting his cum like that. "Inside," you babble out quickly, hands balling into fists against the wall. "Please, inside." You stutter over your words as he continues thrusting into you, but he understands you immediately.

You don't have to say it twice. After a moment, he bucks into you up to the hilt, and a shaky groan leaves his throat as he cums; hot, thick ropes that flood your cunt with his spend. The sensation, mixed with the feeling of him rolling his fingers over your clit is enough to make you cum as well, and you cry out, walls quivering on his cock before tensing, milking him. Your body trembles and he pulls his hands away, holding you close to him, hums of affection leaving his throat as he thrusts into you a few more times before his movements stall. There's a bit of content silence before his voice breaks it. "Still think I hate you?" You pause, then you murmur in response shakily, "Mnh-mnh. Thank you..." "You're welcome, pet. But next time you need my cock, say it instead of being a brat." "Then the next time you dream about me, tell me." "...deal."

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #callsign datura #ghost cod #simon riley

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elliesbff · 10 days

Text

“i need you.”

- abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 c:

cw: nsfw, scissoring, (r and abby! recieving) oral sex, (r! receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. enjoy! ˖ ࣪⊹

read pt 1 of i need you here!

.*･｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 .*･｡ﾟ

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby WLF, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

fin.

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it was definitely a lot longer than i planned, and sorry again for taking so long!! but i enjoyed writing this a lot, hopefully you guys enjoy reading it too. ♡♡

dt: louise again realest oomf!!

word count: 2,793

#abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou game #tlou x reader #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou smut #tlou show #tlou series #lesbian #tlou fic #abby tlou #elliesbff

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