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coryosbaby · 1 year

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Ultraviolence - E.L & C.M

(pt. 1)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)

Warning: dubcon, stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), reference to being siblings while fucking (I’m sorry), jealousy, p n v, Ethan isn’t a virgin in this, loss of virginity for reader, Cherry popping, slight blood kink, scent kink, sir kink, dark! Dom! Ethan, sub! Reader, slight perv! Reader, Ethan is older (19/20), reader is of age, quinn doesn’t exist ig, masturbation, fingering, corruption kink, degradation, choking, a little bit of titty worship

A/N: this is the first part to the stepbrother! Ethan landry fic! <3 heavily imagining the way Ethan acts after the ghostface reveal for this, bc he’s just so cray cray and fine 😜 so he’s like, majorly unhinged and cocky 💗💋 reader is also hyperfem ! (I like pt 2 better honestly pls bear with me)

When you first figured out that your mom was marrying, you were ecstatic. She deserved to be married to a decent guy, and Wayne was someone in that category. He was nice, had money, and you didn’t dislike him.

When you first met Ethan, however, he made you nervous.

You didn’t hate him, per say. But the intense look he gave you the first time he was forced to shake your hand put a chill up your spine. His gaze itself cut into you like a knife. Polar opposites, him in dark sweaters, t-shirts, and jeans. And you? Clad in the shortest skirts, in the tightest tops.

The boy had ignored you the first few weeks of knowing each other. Now moved in, you’re both in the same house. Your rooms are right across from each other’s: yours completely covered in pink, with flower and hello kitty accessories laying about. Ethan’s is definitely different; a little bit less cluttered, most of it blue. A bookcase in one corner. You knew this because he left his door open quite often.

You regret not paying attention to that tiny detail.

It’s a sunny day. The sun is shining brightly down on you as you rest beside the pool in your backyard. Clad in a checkered pink bathing suit, your hair is thrown up with a claw clip and you’re spread out on a towel. Suntanning is one of your favorite activities, and today is great for it.

Wayne is at work and your mom is away doing errands. You don’t know where Ethan is. Probably in the living room watching a show, you suspect. It’s what he usually does.

You sigh, and pop the knuckle of your left hand. It’s definitely time for a drink, and you want to get your Bluetooth speaker.

When you go inside, you climb up the stairs to your room. Ethan’s door is slightly cracked, but not to the point where you can see inside. Not unless you’re close to it, at least. He must be busy.

You roll your eyes when you catch sight of the dress you’re going to be forced to wear at your mom’s wedding resting on the top of your dresser. You love her, but the woman does not have a good sense of style.

Grabbing the small speaker in your hand, you begin to make your way back outside.

And that’s when you hear it.

A groan, and then something wet.

Its coming from Ethan’s room, and sounds like him. And it’s as if the sounds he’s making started up right when you went to leave. And with his door unlocked? It couldn’t be that wrong to be curious and see what he was doing, could it?

You approach the door, not really thinking it through. And when you catch sight of the room through the crack of the door, it takes everything in you not to rub yourself.

You can see Ethan on his bed, shirt off and his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, his sweats pulled down to expose himself. He’s looking at his cock, face scrunched up in pleasure, and god, he’s big. You can feel your face heating up, can feel your swimsuit beginning to get soaked with more than just water.

“Oh… shit. Yeah, baby. You like that cock, don’t you? You dirty little bitch.” He growls, and it’s like he’s saying it directly to you.

And maybe he is. Because as his thumb is rubbing the tip of his cock, he looks directly at your quivering form in the door, thrusts his hips into the air, and cums.

You’re trying your hardest to avoid Ethan.

And who wouldn’t? He’s your fucking stepbrother and you just watched him jack off; not only that, but he orgasmed when he saw you watching. It’s fucked up.

You try to push the guilt of touching yourself later that night to the thought of it down. And it’s hard. Ethan sends you glances, a lot more noticeable than his usual ones, and when you make eye contact with him he looks at you with mischievous eyes.

And then comes the day that you’re both alone again. You’re on the couch watching a show, trying to get your mind off of Ethan. When of course, he comes down the stairs, wearing a black button up shirt and jeans. The shirt hugs his muscles and you try not to pay attention to that. He sits down beside you.

“Hey, sis.” His voice is amused, and you don’t look at him as you adjust your thigh highs.

“Hey, Ethan.” You mumble. The tv show is suddenly very interesting.

“I like this show, too. Really good.” He notes, as if this isn’t the first set of words you’ve ever really said to each other. His hand rests on the top of your thigh and the movement makes you jump out of your seat. You look at him for a moment and then scurry to the kitchen.

“Where are you goin’ sis?” He questions loudly.

“T-To…get something to drink!”

You go to the fridge to open the door and pull out a Cherry Coke, nervous hands skimming over other drinks to have an excuse to stay in the room for longer. You jump when you turn around and Ethan is leaning against the counter. He looks calm, a small smirk playing on his handsome face.

“Can you get me one too, sweet thing?”

The nickname makes you flush, and you turn around to reach back into the fridge and grab another Cherry Coke.

You hold it out to him, but instead of grabbing the drink his hand goes to wrap around your wrist to pull you closer. You inhale sharply when his hand comes up to move a piece of your hair out of the way. He then leans into you, so much that you can feel his breath. You clench your eyes shut and pull away when his lips almost touch yours.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“E-Ethan…” he’s looking at you so intently, that it makes you flush under his gaze. And then his fingers move to the thin strap of your top, playing with it. He seems deeply concentrated on it. Or, more likely, your tits. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do or… or trying to start, but we can’t-”

“You’re really pretty, do you know that?” He interrupts, and you stutter, not really knowing how to reply.

“Y-Yes? I mean, a lot of people say it, but…” he looks up at you and smiles.

“You’re so sweet, too. So innocent..” he frowns, his grip tightening on your shirt strap. “But maybe you aren’t. Because you’re a little pervert, aren’t you baby?”

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-“

“But you did. Don’t lie to me.”

“I-I’m sorry…” you say, breathless.

And then, without warning, he’s kissing you. You gasp at the harshness of his mouth, and he yanks you closer to him by your hair. He turns you around to shove your body against the counter, as if you weigh nothing. You moan, and he reaches down to grope one of your tits in his hand.

“Let me see these. Now.”

You whimper, hesitant, so Ethan makes the decision for you. He yanks your straps down and your tits spill out, nipples hard and stiff from your arousal. He brings one into his mouth and sucks, his teeth scraping the swollen skin.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to see these tits, sweetheart.” His cock grinds against your clothed pussy, and you thrust your hips forward.

“This is… god, this is so wrong, fuck…”

“But you want it, don’t you? Dirty girl.”

His strong hands go underneath your ass and lift you up on the counter. He brings his mouth back to yours, and groans when you touch his hard bulge through his sweats. Fuck it. What’s done now can’t be undone.

“I do want it, sir. Wan’ it so bad.”

He lifts your skirt up, moves your underwear to the side, and sticks his middle finger in your tight heat. You hide your face in his chest, his smell making your brain cloudy, makes you forget the possibility that both of your parents could come home at any moment.

“You’re such a wet little thing.” He breathes. “Gonna let me fuck this sweet pussy, baby?”

You nod shyly, and he laughs.

“C’mon, baby, don’t get shy on me now. Let me see you. ”

You look up at him, and he grips your throat.

“Are you going to let me fuck you?” He questions again.

“Yes sir.”

And then moments later you’re bent over the counter, virgin pussy spasming around Ethan’s incredibly large length. You’re crying, the stretch painful, but nonetheless he feels amazing.

His big hands grip your hips harshly as he slams into you, sweat beading on his chest. When he looks down, your creamy fluid mixed with blood drips down his cock, and he grins.

“Awww, baby. You’re bleeding! ” He mocks. “Little virgin pussy can’t handle my fat cock, can it?”

You mewl, thrusting your hips back harder, craving more of him.

“Yeah, pretty baby. That’s it. Take your big brother’s cock.”

#I’m sorry this is sinful #Ethan landry #Ethan landry x reader #Ethan landry x fem! reader #stepbrother! Ethan landry x reader #stepbrother! Ethan landry #dom! Ethan landry #sub! reader #virgin! reader #scream #scream 6

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slyblonder · 2 months

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King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

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a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

#ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #song mingi smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #slyblonder

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teyamsatan · 11 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her.

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right.

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.”

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still.

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead.

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with.

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that.

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target.

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?”

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.”

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process.

“No.”

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt.

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?”

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.”

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit.

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out.

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.”

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?”

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.”

“I don’t know.”

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

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(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

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callsign-rogueone · 4 months

Text

where were you in the morning? - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x gn!reader words: 408 🏷: no book spoilers this time! just a little thought about our sweet boy 🥰 very brief mentions of torture (RSC), implications of sexual activity, no mention of reader’s appearance or gender.

You’d nearly given Bodhi a heart attack when he woke to find only cold sheets beside him. He’d checked his room and the bathroom attached before throwing on a shirt and heading upstairs to bang on Garrick’s door to ask if the section leader had seen you - he’d grumbled that he hadn’t, and that the younger boy needed to go the fuck back to sleep.

His head spun. Had you been kidnapped for another round of survival training? Were you chained to a wall right now, begging for mercy?

He finds himself in front of your room next, poised to knock, but puts his hand down before his knuckles can touch the wood. What if you left in the middle of the night because you thought this was a mistake, or a just one-time thing? Had you not enjoyed yourself? Oh gods, what if he'd made you feel pressured to-

“Hey,” you greet with a soft smile, interrupting the spiraling thoughts, and he whirls around, stunned.

“You’re okay,” he breathes, inspecting you for wounds — you’re a little out of breath, and there’s a fading bruise on your arm from a few days ago, but you’re otherwise unharmed.

You laugh nervously. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I thought they’d taken you for RSC, or that you regretted… what we did,” he admits, and your heart drops at the realization.

“Oh, no, love, I just went to go on my daily run with Imogen and Vi,” you explain, wrapping him in a hug and resting a palm over his pounding heart. “I’m sorry I scared you. You looked too peaceful to wake, so I just left a note on your desk.”

Oh. He’d assumed the worst immediately, too busy freaking out to look for a note.

“Please wake me up next time, okay?” He asks in a soft voice, still holding you tightly, his face resting in the sweaty curve of your neck.

“Okay,” you agree, but he doesn’t let go. “Bo,” you prod gently, “I need to shower.”

“Right,” he says, taking a step back, a dark blush across his cheeks. “I’ll, uh, see you around, then.”

“Unless you want to join me? I’ll prove to you that I didn’t regret any of it.”

He blinks once, twice, cheeks reddening further as he realizes what you mean, and he nods a little too eagerly.

You laugh. “Come on, lover boy. Breakfast is in half an hour, we’re burning daylight here.”

#mine #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing fanfic #bodhi durran #fourth wing #reader insert

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angel-kyo · 5 months

Text

Pay it no mind

Part VI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is an implication of reader dying (but they don't).

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V

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

When you entered the coffee shop, Haruki was already sitting at a table in the corner.

He got up to greet you when he saw you approaching. “Did you have any trouble to find this place?”

You sat in front of him. “Not really. I actually had been nearby some days ago for work and saw it,” you replied.

He smiled. “Oh, does being a teacher involve much work outside the school?”

So, the work part had not been a lie, but being a little more explicit, you had been exorcising a curse. Of course, you could not tell him that.

You smiled back. “I don’t know about other schools, but sometimes we have to run errands here and there.” Haruki nodded, and you decided to change the subject before he could dig further. “Anyway, should we order?”

Over iced coffee and tea, you and Ikeda caught up on pretty much everything you had missed during your years apart. The elderly uncle he had moved in with years ago had passed away just before he finished high school, so with no family left in the country other than his avoidant father, he had gone to study abroad. He had returned to Japan to work for a big company in Osaka, but then he had been transferred to Tokyo, which led him to getting a small apartment there, which eventually led him to you.

You watched him sip his tea and place it back on the table.

Time really goes by quickly. It wasn’t that long ago we were at a similar place talking about the future and look at us. This is the future.

“You know? Back then, I wanted to come back after finishing high school, but it would have been so…” He moved his hands as if trying to grasp the right word.

“Complicated?” you offered. His lips curved.

“Not that it would have been easier anywhere, but I guess there really is a right time for everything, don’t you think? At least I got to see you again."

Ikeda was looking at you expectantly and you only nodded. He laughed. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all!” It was nice listening to him. “I was just thinking how great it is that you have accomplished so much.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just think it’s nice to be back.” He made a pause. “What about you, though? So, you graduated, stayed here and became a busy teacher… Maybe found your soulmate yet?”

You snorted, almost spilling your drink as you shook your head. “My… No.”

Your own reaction had made you laugh, but what had really gone through your mind was a much more disheartening memory: Satoru's forced smile when you told him you liked him.

Ikeda smiled at your reaction. “What about your friends? Are you still close with those guys you used to hang with? The girl that used to come with you every time and the other two?”

“Shoko is a doctor now.” You smiled and looked through the window; it looked like it would rain. “About Geto…”

They did their best to cover it up, but you might have heard about an incident in a village...

Haruki watched your gazed had saddened, and he could infer it was not a pleasant subject, so he tried to facilitate a response “You drifted apart? That happened to me and many of my friends...”

Your eyes returned to his. “Yes… We don’t really talk anymore.”

That sounded better than saying ‘our friendship became complicated after he turned into a mass murderer and curse user.'

Haruki’s smile was apologetic. In his memory, Geto seemed to have been a nice guy, and from your expression, he could tell that, for whatever reason it happened, letting him go had hurt you.

It must be inevitable that people part ways even when they don’t want to, he thought.

Now, he was not sure if he should ask about the other guy. Would that sadden you too?

“I am still friends with Gojo, though. You remember him?”

He nodded. Of course, how could he forget about him?

You continued. “Actually, we work together. He is a teacher too.”

“Oh, well, that’s...” he was not sure how to put it, “...that’s interesting.”

He could not help but wonder what kind of teacher Gojo had become. Thinking it backwards, Gojo had always been throwing annoyed looks at him. No, that white-haired kid had not looked like teacher material at all back then.

Haruki was not dumb. He always knew Gojo disliked him, and that the reason was pretty much related to you, but it had been only once that your friend had confronted him directly. Would Gojo have told you about it? He figured probably not, and even if he had, the past is in the past.

***

“This was fun,” you told Haruki as you walked to the station.

“It really was”, he agreed. “Maybe we could go to where I used to work next time. You know, for good old times’ sake.”

“You should bring your apron!” You grinned and looked at the sky, “But sure, we should go, if it’s still there, that is.”

At the entrance of the station, Haruki told you he could walk to his apartment from there, so you said goodbye.

The day had been full of memories and, although overall it was nice to reminisce, it had left you exhausted, so you decided to go to bed early.

Maybe tonight you could dream of a softer time, before Shoko looked so tired, before Suguru slipped away, and before Satoru had to shoulder alone the burdens of the strongest.

As the raindrops tapped on your window, you slumbered into the memory of a young group of students laughing and running under the rain.

***

“[name].” Someone was tapping your forehead. “[name].”

Your eyes opened to be met with a pair of blue ones.

“Oh, good, you woke up.” Gojo shot you a smile. He was standing next to your bed, bending over you.

Slowly, your head turned to look at the time on your nightstand watch. It was 6:02 am.

Huh, he started being annoying earlier than usual.

Still laying down, you saw him straighten up. “I need your help with something.”

“It better be urgent, or I’ll have to ask you to return that key I gave you.”

You knew that would not be of much use anyway. Before giving him a spare key to your apartment ‘for emergencies’, Satoru would just teleport inside whenever he thought the situation called for it, which was basically whenever he wanted.

Of course, he did not use his key just for emergencies, but at least you had gotten him to use the front door since then. And he had looked so glad you had given him a spare key and even gave you one to his place, that you did not really have the heart to ask him to give it back despite his unnecessary intrusions.

He grinned. “We need to pick Shoko’s birthday present.”

There was going to be a small gathering that day to celebrate your friend’s birthday. She had insisted on not making a fuss about it, but she did say in a half serious tone that presents were mandatory. You had gotten her a bottle of that rare wine she liked a month ago in anticipation of this day, but apparently, Gojo had waited until the very last minute to get her something.

You turned in your bed and closed your eyes again. “That is not an emergency.”

“I just did not know what to get her. She was not thrilled with my choice last year, so I thought…” Gojo sat on your bed and went on rambling about how he had carefully picked Shoko’s present on a trip last year and how rude it had been of her to call it ‘ugly’ in front of him.

“What is this?” Shoko’s face had been unreadable, but judging by the way she was holding it, she was not pleased.

“I got it during my last trip. It is believed to bring good luck to your home, and you can put it in your living room so it…”

“Of course not. This is too ugly to be left where people can see it," Shoko had sentenced.

You sighed. “Fine. I will help you, but I need some more sleep first.”

“It’s a deal then. We will take a quick nap and then go. What do you think we should get her?” Despite being with your back to him, you could feel him laying down and accommodating closer to you.

It had been a while since you two had shared a bed. Yours was particularly small, so one of you would always take the futon or the sofa if he wanted to 'stay for a nap'.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly.

There was silence for a second and you thought he had caught up with the situation he was putting both of you in, but then he replied “Your bed is more comfortable. Besides, it’ll be just a minute, right?"

You were going to protest, but he continued. “I had a rough night.” His tone was lower now. “Indulge me this time, can you?”

You knew he had been on a mission last night, however, no matter how gruesome, it was not like him to complain about it, let alone seek comfort in others, at least, it had not been like that in a long time.

Would it be okay to comfort him as when we were kids?

You turned to face him. He was laying on his side already looking at you.

When you put your hand over his, Satoru was reminded of how you used to hold hands when things were rather unpleasant at his family’s state. It was a gesture of reassurance; you holding his hand was proof that he was not alone. He had never told you but there were times when he thought your hand had tied him to reality, it had kept him human, and he had loved you for it.

“I…”

“Sleep then. You probably need it,” you interrupted him and closed your eyes.

Would it be okay for him to tell you he loved you or would it make things awkward again? Would it still make you hurt because he had not reciprocated your feelings weeks ago?

In truth, he had not come so early because of Ieiri's present. He had done it because the curse he had encountered last night had gotten to him.

He had been told that thing was not really strong, but it could show people illusions of those dear to them dying in front of their eyes; it was the fear the victim would experience at that time what would make the curse stronger. Gojo had not expected to see you, but he did; and although he had snapped out of it almost immediately, it had been enough to make him rush to you as soon as he had finished the mission and changed clothes.

But now, with his hand in yours, Satoru closed his eyes, feeling a little more at ease.

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

Note: Huh... I thought this one would be shorter. Sorry.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part VII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk drabbles #gojo x you #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #satoru #gojo fluff

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czrpenters · 1 year

Text

piercings | tara carpenter x reader

summary: you could be a little extra when it came to pleasing your girlfriend.

pairings: tara carpenter x fem!reader.

warnings: no scream vi spoilers, mention of needles and piercings. also, english is not my first language.

word count: 985 words.

masterlist. | request rules.

It wasn't fully your idea to get your nipples pierced after all. You saw Tara blushing while looking at some pretty suggestive pictures on her Tumblr the other day, and instead of being jealous like you usually would, you started wondering; is she really into that stuff at all?

The next day, you got an appointment at Woodsboro's local tattoo parlor. And oh god, it was more painful than to watch a dog die in an early 2000's movie. You literally felt your soul leave your body for some minutes, your skin had visible goosebumps all over it and the pain was bearing the unbearable. But damn, you looked hot. And you knew that Tara would love that.

She mentioned once or twice, as well. "Babe, would you think I'd look hot with my nipples pierced?". And you knew damn well that this was never going to happen due to her fear of needles, but a girl can dream, right? And Tara was about to have her dream come true that night.

"Baby, I'm home! Got us some chinese!" Tara shouted while entering your house, with some takeout in her hands. It was your usual friday night; your dad was a surgeon so he had to bear inhumane 48 hour-shifts on the weekends, which of course meant that you guys had the whole place to yourselves. You usually didn't do anything that crazy or teenage-like, you and Tara were really responsible for your age. The days were mostly spent by watching some movies, eating a bunch of junk food and a lot of sex. Nothing that a lesbian couple wouldn't do.

"I'm over here!" You shouted back in your bedroom, turning off your phone and waiting for your girl to come to you. Your chest was still a little bit sore, so laying on it was definetly not an option right now. Also, no bras for at least a whole week, but that was something you weren't really worried about. You wanted to show them off. You wanted her to see it.

Tara left all the bags filled with food on the kitchen counter, discarding her jacket and shoes before coming up the stairs to your bedroom. She was exceptionally tired today, to say the very least. Playing soccer was definitely not the best career choice and yet she still played it. Not for the sport itself, but the thrill to win. She was exhausted, so it was no surprise that she decided to fall on your bed like a dead corpse, without even looking straight at you. "M' tired as fuck."

She mumbled, in the cutest fucking way possible, which made you laugh. "I know, baby. You didn't have to bring us food, y'know? We could just order Postmates or something." You kissed her forehead, laying down with her but without hugging, you couldn't even dream of having your chest touch something other than the thin layer of fabric of your tank top.

"But it's our tradition, babe... I don't wanna be the one to break it." You almost didn't hear her muffled sore voice, and it made your heart flutter. She couldn't be real. "Why you're not hugging me?"

You knew that it wouldn't take long for her to notice that something was missing. She wasn't sure what, but she knew you better than that; she knew that the first thing you'd do was hug and kiss her right after practice, like always. But you didn't. She finally looked up with a puzzled look on her face. "Is there something wrong?"

"No baby, nothing is wrong... " You kissed her lips briefly, trying to reassure her that everything was fine. More than fine, actually. "It's just... I got a little surprise for you, that's all."

"Baaaaabe! You know that I hate and love surprises." She whined, jumping on the spot and sitting down while looking at you. Thankfully you were wearing a thin sweatshirt over your tank top, so she couldn't see what it was just yet. "Come on, tell me what it is."

"I will, I promise! Just... Close your eyes first, okay?" Before she could even start her sentence, you shushed her. Reluctantly, she closed her eyes, but you were directly looking at them to make sure she wouldn't peek. Carefully, you took your sweatshirt off, alongside with your white tank top. Your nipples were a little puffy still, more red than the usual. It felt like if Tara sucked the life out of them for at least a couple of hours, but instead of her usual bite marks, there was a silver jewelry on them.

You were so fucking excited and it took every inch of your soul to not blurb and tell her what it was before she could even see them. "Okay baby, open them now."

She did as she was told, and you swear to god that you saw some sparkles emerge from her eyes. You could almost feel her happiness, as if her mouth was watering like a boy seeing a pair of boobs for the first time. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Got them while you were at practice. Aren't they pretty?" They were two pieces of silver jewlery, the colour matching the necklace she got you with her initials on it. And oh boy, she was so turned on at that moment that she couldn't even form a sentence. "Didn't liked them?"

That was a rethorical question. You knew she loved them. And the fact that you had to wait at least 2 weeks for her to touch them was, to say the least, torturous. But before you could manage to think about anything else, you felt her lips against yours in a fervorous kiss. Her mouth tasted like cherry, and her kiss tasted like heaven. A piece of your own private paradise. "You really don't know the things I wanna do to you right now, (Y/N)."

"Show me then."

⠀

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega smut #scream #scream vi

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manias-wordcount · 2 years

Text

Pretty in Pink (Vi)

Kinktober 2022 Day Four: Lingerie

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her so pent up before.

Her murmurs are soft against your skin. Dirty words of praise mixed with promises of what she’s going to do to you over and over again as soon as she’s gotten her fill. Heated and heavy breathes against your shoulder as she delivers open-mouth kisses to the most sensitive spots on your neck. Meanwhile, you can’t help but let your head fall back upon her shoulder as your eyes flutter shut and your mouth falls open to let forth your endless gasps of pleasure. She always found a way to get you just so loud and needy. You’re just glad you finally got her to break her composure. As much as you loved her for who she was…

…you had always wanted to see her as depraved as you get when you’re with her.

“You so fucking pretty,” Vi’s voice is so hushed it’d be almost impossible to hear if it weren’t for how close she holds you to her. But you’re able to hear the desire dripping through her words at every syllable. It makes you feel good. It makes you feel wanted. Now, more than ever even. Like you’re the prettiest girl in the Underground instead of some nobody wrapped up in her girlfriend's arms inside the nearest Love Motel you both could find.“God, where did you find this?”

It wasn’t a surprise that she was talking about your current little lingerie get-up that you had specifically picked out for her. Still, you couldn’t help but let out a near silent gasp as her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties before snapping it against your hip. But before you know it, her hand is back to cupping your covered cunt, slowly rubbing while grinding her palm into your clit just enough to make you feel something. At the same time, the arm wrapped around the front of your lower torso just to lock you in place against her chest is reaching up, up, and up. Predictively, her hand finds one of your breasts and takes no time eagerly playing with your pebbled nipple through your dress.

You had a feeling this would be the type of reaction you got once you told your girlfriend about your latest purchase. A visit to Piltover spent well, you realized as soon as you saw your girlfriend’s expanding pupils and darkening look as you explained to her what you had bought. After that, it wasn’t long before you found yourself being shoved into a motel room bathroom and being told not to come out until you’re dressed in something a little more appropriate for the occasion. And it really wasn’t long before you’re getting jumped by your girlfriend and dragged to the bed when she saw how it looked on you.

The pink little baby doll dress the saleswoman pitched to you was the perfect choice. It was a soft, light color, and the fact that it was a mixture of both silk and lace made teasing all so easy. The lace surrounded your chest, giving small yet intricate designs that stretched across your soft mounds and made your perky nipples even more pronounced the more you were turned on. The silk covered the sides of your stomach- splitting right up the middle and beneath your breast to give a welcome window to more of your skin for Vi to enjoy. Though to top it off was the matching silk panties with lace finishing and trim that the dress was able to display oh-so-well on your body. The way they stretched and curved over your thighs and ass left little to the imagination.

Just the way Vi liked it.

“I just want to suck on these perfect tits while they’re covered like this. See if it feels as good as the real thing.” You felt her groan out into your ear as your nipple is rolled between two fingers before being tugged harshly. You whine out, not expecting the sudden roughness despite the not-so-gentle nature of your girlfriend. But it doesn’t stop you from bucking your hips into her hands seeking out more friction to help you get off. And it’s an action reward by her grinding your palm even harder into your center in a way that you never thought could feel so good. In a way, only Vi could make you feel good. “I wanna pull these to the side and finger fuck you until you’re making a mess of your pretty new panties. God, you’re just so fucking pretty.”

“Oh yeah?” Your response is instant as you’re no longer able to hide the coy smile that overtakes your face. “You like seeing me like this, baby? You like seeing me in pink, huh?”

“I love seeing you in pink. I love seeing you like this.” She agrees breathlessly- voice low and eyes half-lidded as a string of desperate curses leave her lips. She looks hungry. So hungry that you swear she might devour you if you’re in her sights long enough. And you really, really really hope she does. “My pretty girl. My pretty fucking girl.”

Once the last word leaves her lips, you suddenly find that her hand on your chest is cupping your jaw, turning your head towards her. In seconds, her lips are against yours, kissing you so passionately that you swear you were starting to see stars. But it’s then that you find that she’s making good on one of her promises. Because it’s all too soon that a wave of cold air hit your cunt before being replaced by the feeling of being stretched out by two excitable fingers, ready to drive you insane.

You whimper at the sudden feeling of being stuffed, but the sound is swallowed up by Vi tilting your head back a bit more to deepen the kiss. Her bangs brush against your skin, and the shivers you can’t help but let out causes her to bring you even impossibly closer to her than you were before. Your body feels so, so warm, and your mind feels like it's spinning circles. You’re so lucky she’s supporting all your weight right now as she kisses you over your shoulder.

Because the hand on your jaw shares the same heat that the fingers pushing in and out of your messy, messy pussy. It’s what causes your focus to jump from the feeling of your bottom lip being sucked on and tugged between two teeth and the unbelievably wet sound your cunt makes as Vi goes to town overwhelming you with pleasures much as possible. For as long as possible.

Now if you could just let her see you in the dark pink lingerie set you just bought as well. The one that matches her hair color almost perfectly. Because you have a feeling that somehow, someway…

…she’ll be even more desperate than this.

#vi x reader #vi #vi league of legends #vi arcane #vi arcane x reader #vi league of legends x reader #league #League of Legends #league of legends fanfic #league of legends fanfiction #league of legends x reader #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction

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day-drawn-blog · 7 months

Text

Part II : Slow burn ❤️‍🔥

Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

I feel your breath on my neck, the soft caress as cold as death

Your blood like wine, I want it in, oh darling make me drink and make me feel

- I want to live

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- Set in Act I

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V : Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I'm not to blame

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours

Part VIII: your blood like wine invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

---------

Next day, you woke up early and you remembered the rollercoaster your heart had been through. And your little secret. Ah, you almost forgot. So caught up were you in your pining you ignored the safety of those around you, and the resolve you had made last night to help and protect those around you. And right now, nothing posed more of a threat than a blood sucking vampire posing as an ally. You did not quite trust him yet. After all, you did not know him well at all.

You left your tent, resolved to confront him.

To settle this issue as best as you can on behalf of those innocent of his real identity. You spotted him next to his tent. His messy curls, even more disheveled in the morning. But his countenance brighter than yesterday. You wondered if it was the effect of the favor you did him. Somehow a part of you felt happy, that you made a difference to him.

You broached the subject.

"Can we talk?" He looked up surprised. "About your... condition. I was curious how we were going to feed you from now on."

His eyes widened.

I guess he did not realize you would confront him about this first thing in the morning. But it has to be done, sooner the better. Before everyone else wakes up. "How... how are you?" He managed, flustered. At least he has it in him to be polite and ask, you thought. You approved of his shallow charm. Now to the point.

"I am alright. But I am worried." "You have my word. I will never put any of us in harm's way. And if I ever do, I will ask, first" he flashed his cheeky grin. You almost gave in. And then suddenly, rustling behind him, startled you both.

Shadowheart walked out of his tent.

You were completely blindsided, Astarion was more embarassed and looked away.

Shadowheart was surprisingly, normal. "Good morning. Are you guys planning breakfast? I heard talks about a meal, or something... " she drawled in her usual charming manner.

"Ah yeah.. something like that.."

you managed to say, and decided to drop it. Before your heart shattered into pieces again, you decided, you walk away.

You wished you could leave them at camp.

So you didn't have to be distracted by those two as you navigated such dangerous lands. But, you all always travelled together and at least there will be other people, to distract you, from Shadowheart and Astarion's intimate moments together, where he held out his hands, to help her on a step. Or she cast her guidance and radiance to protect him, or where he took out a threat with his sneak attack before they ambushed her.

You felt weaker in combat that day.

Several times, Karlach had to protect you. You almost got knocked down, and she had to help you up. Thankfully Wyll had your back too. You felt terrible how much you let this matter get to you. Back at camp, exhausted, and down to your last breath, you decided to put him out of your head once and for all. You needed to wash up, and rest.

This was not serving you.

As you sat in your tent that night, going over the events of the day. You felt tears come up. You wanted to be the one being protected. Looked after..by him. To be important enough.

To be valued and loved, by him.

Dammit. Why should you put him on a pedestal like this. Better start thinking really hard how you could avoid that from happening again. This was your only way. Should you ask them to stay behind at camp the next day? No ..you need every ally you can get fighting for your life.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. You were confused, you thought everyone had gone to bed early that night, tired from all the ambush you had faced that day. So who was it? And why were they coming inside your tent?The tent flaps parted, and you saw a familiar tall silhouette.

You stopped breathing in surprise.

You both stared at each other for a few moments before he broke silence. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, the hour is late. Terribly, and truly" and it seemed like he was second guessing himself and walking back out again. Then he stopped and turned around "You see, this was my first.. I had never drank from a ...thinking creature before. Cazador... my master, would only ever let me feed on rats. "

Where was he going with this?

"Would you be so kind, as to grant me this favor one more time? I completely understand if you don't want to, and this is, well very embarrassing for me to admit" You could see his ears turn red as he shiftily looked anywhere but at you. "But ever since last night, I have not been able to forget... how you tasted". "I could do anything for one more time...please?" And he looked at you with his eyes full of endless misery, that familiar pleading voice and gaze...

You were weak against that but you were annoyed.

Who does he think he is. Does he think himself so charming that he can just waltz into your tent, demanding you donate your blood for free while he went back to Shadowheart right after? You did want to be the hero to those that needed you, but this is just taking advantage of you. You liked him a little less at that point. You were fully resolved to turn him down. After all, this felt wrong, not just to you, but to Shadowheart as well.

You got up.

"I am afraid, Astarion, I will have to turn you down tonight. Isn't Shadowheart waiting for you? What will she think of your absence?"

"She doesn't know. No one does. And I would like to not tell everyone, as long as I can, if you help me. You are the only one, who knows. And if everyone were to find out, I am afraid they would not show me the kindness you did. I would be cast aside. And left to fend for myself."

For all the outward intimacy between him and Shadowheart, you realized, they were not after all, close at heart. What did you expect. Did you expect him to be someone that would allow himself to fall in love with someone or genuinely love and care for someone other than himself? Your first impression of him, was right. The suave and snooth bad boy, with a thousand charms was after all, just that.

You sighed.

Battling with your moral dilemma. You wanted to cave, and earn his trust even more, and maybe a bit of affection. But was that really the right way to go about it. To exploit his weakness? You couldn't. You needed to save everyone. Even the ones that were too proud to admit they needed saving. You sighed again.

"Astarion, I would like to help you. However I cannot, be your only source of.. sustenance. This will affect me in battle. And I thought we agreed you would feed on our enemies, since they are as good as dead, as you said."

If he was disappointed he did not let it show.

"But of course. I only just wanted a little bit. You wouldn't even feel it. I promise. It will be a gift, that I will never forget" He looked at you with his intense gaze that sometimes betrayed the storm raging inside him you suspected. "I understand..." His countenance fell. He was pained. "Have a good sleep. I'll see you around in the morning" And he turned to leave.

"Wait"

Dammit. You cannot turn him down. Or anyone. When they genuinely seem to need your help. But did Astarion really need you? Or was he being greedy? Were you being deceived? Probably. Behind the facade of one who seeks your help is someone simply using you. You felt that. And yet, you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

"Yes, you can...again, tonight. Only a little bit"

"Really? You would?" Genuine surprise in his voice. He quickly stepped in and drew the tent flaps shut. He took your hand and suddenly took the lead. Taking you to the back, gestured to you to sit. You sat down, he knelt in front of you, lifted your arm like last time, with both his hands, gave it a kiss, and looked at you one more time, as if to ask for your permission one last time, and when you nodded, proceeded to bear his fangs at which you looked away.

It didn't hurt, nor did it last longer than a few minutes. Afterwards he drew away, and sat down next to you, as if sated to his utmost. A grin across his face like last time. you looked at your wrist, and the two little dots where his fangs had pierced your skin. The ones from last night were fading. Tonight's red. He looked at you looking at your wrist. "Does it hurt?" He seemed...guilty.

"Let me wrap it"

He proceeded to tear a bit of linen from somewhere nearby and tie it around the bite marks. Hiding your doing, I see. This is no act of kindness. You felt your resolve melt. You felt glad to have been of use to him. But also sad, he was about to leave. And go back to shadowheart. You had served your role. He had used you, and no longer needed you.

Thank you ...you whispered to him

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #astarion angst #emo

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smoooothoperator · 2 months

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untouchable

21: Dear Reader

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 2.7k

a/n: so this is the end! There will be an epilogue and if course extra chapters, you can ask whatever you want to know about Violet and Lando. I'm so so so happy I came with the idea of this story and I feel proud of how it went, of the welcome of you guys, and as well as how the little idea of a ski trip turned into this! Thank you so so much to everyone that supported, I owe you the world❤️

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

If you ask someone how it feels being unconscious, they will probably answer you that it feels like a nightmare, a deep dream that no matter how hard you try you won't wake up. You can hear everyone's voices like an echo in your mind, mixed with the beeping of the monitors

My mind repeated all the time the last thing I saw before passing out, a bright pair of white lights coming closer to me. I was in an eternal nightmare, hearing his voice begging me to open my eyes. But I couldn't do it.

But I always felt his hand on mine, his lips on my knuckles, how he brushed my hair with his fingers. That was the only thing that kept me at ease, that made me feel I wasn't alone.

But the day when I woke up, when I could finally do what he asked, moving my finger, he wasn't there.

When I opened my eyes, I didn't find his blue ones. I found a curly hair next to me, but it wasn't his.

“Lando” I mumbled as well as I could, feeling how sore and dry my throat was.

“Oh, God”

Pietra and Max got up looking at me, watching how I looked around confused.

“Lando? Where…”

He left? He really left me?

“He had to leave” Max said, grabbing a bottle of water and putting a straw on it, helping me drink it. “He will come soon, okay? Don't worry”

I sipped the water, thirstier than I thought I was. But still, there were so many questions around my mind right now.

“Where am I?” I whisper. “I… What happened?”

Pietra and Max took a deep breath looking at each other. They told me everything, from the moment I got out of my apartment to go pick up the moment Lando received the call while he was streaming, they told me about them going to the hospital and Lando nearly screaming at the receptionist and how relieved they were when the doctor told them about the surgery.

“He never left” Pietra smiled weakly. “We had to force him to eat something, sending him reminders about his lunch and dinner”

“But… What about his training?” I mumbled confused.

“He will ask for a pair of weeks more” Max sighed. “Pato will drive for him in the first race after the break, just to make sure that you recover”

“But…”

“He won't leave you alone, Violet”

I took a deep breath and smiled weakly, closing my eyes for some seconds until the door opened.

When he walked in I barely recognized him. His curls were barely done, messy and falling on his eyes. He let his facial hair grow a little. His eyes weren't shining as always, and the bags under his eyes were there too.

When I said his name I could see the shock in his eyes, as well as fear and regret.

“You are awake” he mumbled, walking towards my bed, swallowing thickly.

“Mhm” I nodded, looking at him, reaching for his hand.

“And I wasn't here”

I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Something in them is not there anymore, I can see a shadow that is making his smile not reach to his blue eyes.

“But you are here now” I whisper, holding his hand with my hands. “That's everything that matters”

I saw Pietra and Max getting up, walking out of the room and leaving us alone.

I saw Lando's bottom lip trembling, making him trap it between his teeth. His eyes were getting wetter while he pressed his forehead against mine.

“He did it, Vi… Harry did this” he whispered.

Something inside of me knew it. Something really deep inside of me knew that he was the reason for the crash.

Lando sat on the bed next to me, grabbing his phone and showing me the recording, holding my hand while we listened to it.

“I don't want to see him ever again” I whispered, feeling a knot in my throat when I heard the moment he jumped from the chairs ready to attack Lando.

“He will go to jail” Lando sighed.

“Good” I nodded. “He deserves to rot in there”

I recovered slower than I would like to admit. Getting up from bed was a torture, sitting on the couch was a relief that only lasted a few seconds before realizing I had to get up from it later. The walls and the ceiling of the bedroom started to get boring.

Silence fell between us, with his hands holding mine as we took deep breaths, trying to assimilate everything.

“I really need to go out…” I groaned.

Lando stayed with me all the time. Even if he still had a week more of his summer break, he decided to ask for two more weeks to take care of me.

“You know you can't… Remember what the doctor said” he sighed, bringing the food to the table of the living room.

“I know, but I'm just getting tired of these walls” I sighed.

He smiled, standing behind my chair and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, reading what I was doing on my laptop.

“Just wait a few days, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. “And while you recover, we can look for houses, hm? I chose some that maybe you'll like”

The torturous and slow way I recovered was agonizing. The visits to the doctor were too many to count them with my hands: exams of my head, exams of my broken bones, talks with the psychiatrist.

“Can we visit them once I have the cast out of my leg?” I asked him, taking a deep breath after watching the pictures of the houses he found.

“Of course” he nodded.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Lando told me that while I was unconscious his parents came to stay here, to keep the apartment clean and to be closer to the hospital.

“What will happen with Harry?” I dared to ask, leaning on his chest. “Like… He's obviously a psychopath, or something in that style. Will he go to jail? Or somewhere where they control people like that?”

I felt Lando sigh and rest his chin on top of my head. I could hear his mind working, trying to find the right words of what he wanted to say.

“I just… I hope he gets the punishment he deserves to have” he said, and I could find a little bit of disappointment in his voice. “He hurt you, and I won't forgive him for doing that. Years ago I accepted that the friendship I had with him was gone, that he only wanted to be around for my money and fame. But now… What he did is unforgivable, Violet”

“I know” I whisper, swallowing the lump of my throat. “I know… I think I'll never forgive him either…”

He held me tight, like he was scared of letting me go. The last few days were hard, he always wanted to be around me, and I could feel how he woke up in the middle of the night to hold me tighter. And something inside of me broke knowing why he did that. While I was unconscious I could hear him cry. He did that when he was alone, when none of his family or friends were around. I could feel him holding my hand tight, pressing it against his lips while he let go the tears, when he talked about his fear of losing me.

How could I be so stupid? I made him promise me that he will always come back after a race, that he won't have a crash. And he made that promise, he came back after every race. And it was me who never came back, who got into a crash.

“I'm just glad that he's not around ever again” I sighed. “That we can love our lives without worrying what would be his next move”

He nodded in silence, sitting on the chair next to mine and eating the food on his plate without saying a word about it. I sighed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it softly, smiling weakly.

“We are free, Lando” I smiled weakly. “No more fear, no more looking out the window in case we are stalked…”

“You knew?” he frowned. He kept that in secret, hiding the pictures Harry sent on his backpack.

“I found the pictures some day when I was getting your backpack ready…” I sighed. “I guess you hid them to not scare me, so I just didn't say anything…”

“He is so sick, Violet” he sighed, clenching his jaw. “He knew exactly where the window of your room was. He took pictures of us in bed! Of you naked! Of us having sex. And he threatened me to sell them”

“But he didn't” I said. “Those were only threats…”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, watching how he was taking deep breaths while he closed his eyes.

“That's why you always look out the window before going to bed?” I sighed.

“Yeah” he sighed. “I mean, at first I only thought it was a sick stalker. But then I started to think and then things made sense… I guess I always knew Harry was the one behind those threats…”

“He did everything to scare you and pull you away from me” I sighed.

“You heard his confession…” he said. “He did the same with your exes”

The fact that he was there when I was nearly abused. That he watched from afar how I was touched without permission and he only stared to find a moment to be the hero.

Boxes were the only thing I could see.

“He's sick” I said, pushing the plate away, not wanting to eat anymore, feeling nauseous.

“Where should we put the plants? I don't want to kill them”

Boxes, bags and suitcases.

Boxes everywhere.

Lando came into the office with an empty box, leaving it on the floor. He placed his hands on his hips, looking at me with a frown, then at the plants.

“Internet says that you can put them on a box and make holes on it so they can have air” Lando frowned. “I mean… What we can do is take them first to the house? Put them in the back of the car and then leave there while we come back for the rest of things”

I look at him and then at the plants. There are four plants in my office, six in the bedroom, three in the bathroom and eight in the living room.

“Will they fit?” I asked. “In my car?”

“Yeah” he nodded, biting the nail of his thumb.

“In an Audi A1?” I laughed.

He looked at me and took a deep breath before walking out of the office, coming back after a few seconds with a smile.

“I'll owe Max money…” he sighed.

“It's not my problem you two made a bet about us not needing help” I said, raising up my arms.

Moving out was finally happening.

I recovered right in time for the second race of the second half of the season. Time passed really fast and in between his races we started looking for houses, making time pass even faster.

Packing all the things in my apartment was another story. Taking all my things and putting them in boxes, bags and suitcases was funny, but I hated the fact that Lando made a bet with Max.

“He will be a pain in the ass” he sighed, walking slower towards me and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.

“Not my problem” I laughed softly. “Come on, we need a bigger car and he has one”

“We can always rent a car…”

“Lando”

“Okay, okay” he sighed, grabbing his phone and calling his friend.

The new house was completely empty when we bought it and it was exciting for us because we could decorate it how we wanted.

“Are we sleeping there tonight?” I smiled excitedly, biting my lip. “The mattress arrives this afternoon”

“Sure, why not?” he smiled.

When Max came, he was already smirking once he crossed the front door. I watched them, how Lando rolled his eyes and Max extended his hand with the keys of his car in exchange of a bill.

“I didn't want to say it, but…” Max smirked, looking at me and then at Lando. “Told ya”

“Whatever!” Lando exclaimed, making us laugh. “But thank you”

“You can use my car, okay?” I said, getting up and grabbing the keys of my car. “Maybe we will use it for the weekend, to take the suitcases and boxes”

“Okay” he smiled, and looked at us. “I'm so proud of you two, really”

“Stop it, you are going to make me cry” Lando laughed.

Max chuckled and hugged us before grabbing the keys of my car. He stayed here to help us put the plants in his car, just to be faster.

“We'll call you once the house is finally done” I said smiling. “So we can make a welcome home dinner”

“I like how it sounds” he nodded. “When is the furniture coming?”

“Tomorrow” Lando said, standing next to me after closing the door of the backseats once he put the last plant inside of the car. “Tomorrow is the living room and couch. This afternoon the mattress is coming”

“Let me guess, you will stay there tonight?” Max laughed.

“Oh yeah” he smirked looking at me, making me blush and look away.

“Forget it, I don't want to know what you two do there” Max exclaimed, making us laugh. “If you need help, Pietra and I can come tomorrow to help you build the furniture”

“Oh sure” I smiled. “No bets this time, please”

“Yes, ma’am” both of them sighed.

I smile and hug Max before getting in the car, biting my lip. The keys of the new house were in my bag, and I couldn't help but feel excited as we were getting closer.

“Are you excited?” he asked me, placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing it softly.

“You have no idea” I smiled.

It was only a turn more to the left and we're just in front of our house. Our house, our place. Home.

He parked the car in front of the gate and I grabbed the keys, pressing the control remote key and filing when the gate opened in front of us. He drove inside and stopped the car in front of the main door.

“I can't believe we're finally doing it” I said, getting out of the car and looking at the house.

I turned around and looked at him, walking towards me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I did the same, wrapping it around his waist and leaning on him.

“Do you want to get it?” he smiled, pressing a kiss on my temple.

I smiled and nodded, grabbing the keys and walking towards the door, unlocking it and opening it. But then I felt his arms around my back and behind my knees, picking me up and making me giggle.

“Lando!” I gasped, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

“It's our first time walking in, we have to do it this way” he smirked, walking inside of the house.

He placed me back on the floor and I smiled looking around. The empty hall welcomed us, but it was perfect. This place is perfect.

“Well?” he smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

“It's perfect” I smiled. “I can't wait to have the mattress”

“Oh, I don't think that can stop us! There is a kitchen aisle, a bathroom… plenty of places to have sex” he smirked.

“Yeah? I want to see the kitchen, just to make a better look at it, what do you think?” I smirk, walking away from him and looking over my shoulder, smiling when I saw him walk towards me while he unbuttoned his jeans and took off his hoodie.

This place is home. He is my home. And I can't wait to build a future with him, to see kids running around the living room, to hear our laughs.

This is finally our time to be happy.

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@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia @traveling-inspiration

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pagesfromthevoid · 1 year

Text

Darling, Don’t You Cry | j.m.

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Only you have shown me how to love being alive.

Word Count: 8.4k (ahahah)

Warnings: Canon violence. Mild SA mention (nothing explicit). Murder. Mentions of being drugged and kidnapped, hunted by people. Softie Joel.

Author’s Note: I…don’t know what came over me. Might I recommend listening to Darling by Halsey as you read?

Talk to Me! | Read on AO3

1993 —Austin, Texas

Two years after Tommy joined the military; two years after Sarah’s mom left

“I can’t stay,” she argued, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Joel stood in the doorway, arms crossed, but made no move to stop her. “Can we at least talk about it?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Now you wanna talk, Miller? I’ve been trying to talk for months.”

Joel heaved a sigh, running his hands over his jaw. “I know —I’m sorry, okay? It’s complicated —,”

“You think I didn’t know that going into this?” She asked, turning to finally look at him. “You think that I didn’t know how hard this would be, between you having a baby and a wife that just up and left? I knew it would be complicated, Joel.”

“Then I don’t get why you’re leaving,” he pressed, finally stepping into the room. “You’ve lived here your whole life —,”

“I’ve lived here since I was fifteen,” she countered, looking at him with annoyance. “And have had feelings for you since I moved here.”

“Don’t say that,” he warned, crossing his arms. “You’ve had plenty of boyfriends; shit, you dated Tommy.”

“Oh my god, when we were sixteen,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Then she stopped, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. I got accepted into a great program in Seattle. I have deferred that acceptance for two years to help take care of Sarah since Tommy left for basic, under the condition that I would go when he got home.

“Just because you have been dancing around whether or not you have feelings for me doesn’t mean I don’t know what I feel. And it damn well doesn’t give you the right to tell me I cannot go.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” he countered, reaching out to take the shirt she had in her hands. “I just —what’s so special about Seattle that you can’t have here?”

“My family is there. That’s what’s in Seattle, Joel. And a damn good aerospace program that wants me. Do you not get how big a deal that is?” She stared up at him, frowning deeply. “I have spent years being told I wasn’t good enough by every fucking teacher I’ve ever had —and now Boeing fucking wants me. I can’t keep blowing them off. Tommy comes home tomorrow, and my flight is booked for the day after. If I don’t go now —I won’t ever go.”

They stared each other down for a long time, Joel’s eyes pleading with her to stay. But she has spent the last two years helping take care of a child that wasn’t her’s, deferring an acceptance that never should have been deferred, and loving a man who couldn’t decide what he wanted. There were a million reasons for her to go; she just needed one good one to stay.

But she knew he’d never give her that reason.

“Tell me why I should stay, Joel,” she finally demanded, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Tell me what I know you want and I’ll stay.”

“Darlin’, I can’t —,”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, pointing at the door. “Just…just get out of my house, Joel.”

She watched him turn and leave, taking her heart with him.

2003 —Austin, Texas

Two weeks before the outbreak

“When are you gonna let me take you back out?” Tommy asked, leaning against the bar.

The dive bar wasn’t terribly busy; just a handful of people that knew she was back in town for a few days. Boeing was working with Johnson Space Center in Houston on a new project and she was sent down to work with the teams at NASA. It felt a bit surreal, being the lead on such a huge project.

She’d been back a handful of times since moving back to Seattle; mostly to visit Tommy and other friends. Life got busy, things changed, and it was never easy to just hop on a plane and visit. But now, with this new program, she was going to be settling down in Houston. Austin was a bit of a trek, but she missed her friends and time heals all wounds.

“We’ve been down that road, Miller,” she reminded him with a teasing grin. “If I recall, you cheated on me with Danielle.”

“And Noelle. And Gina.”

She looked up from the bar at the familiar voice, turning around to see Joel sauntering in with a soft smile on his face. Leaning back against the bar, she lifted her beer in greeting.

Maybe time didn’t heal all wounds.

But it sure as hell made the heart grow fonder.

“Joel Miller, as I live and breathe,” she greeted, though remained seated. “Still out here ruining Tommy’s life, I see. Didn’t know about the other two.” She gave Tommy a pointed look, but there was a grin on her face.

“Someone’s gotta keep’em humble,” Joel answered easily, taking the empty seat beside her. “How long you in town, darlin’?”

If he saw her flinch at the nickname, he didn’t react.

“Austin, a week,” she explained, lifting the beer to her lips. Her eyes dragged over his face, taking in every little change she’d missed in him. “Houston, at least a year.”

He raised a brow, sitting up a bit straighter. “Moving back, then? Seattle not cuttin’ it?”

“Seattle is just fine,” she countered, turning back in her seat to face the bar. “I’m working out at the Space Center, with the shuttle program. Lead engineer.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, shaking his head as the bartender handed him a beer of his own. “That’s impressive.”

She just shrugged in response, smiling behind her beer now. It was easy to fall back into it with Joel; like no time had passed at all. But that’s how it always was. Joel was an easy friend to make, and an even easier person to fall for.

What started as a stupid crush on the older neighbor boy had turned into so much more —ending just like she expected it would. Him not realizing she even existed until she was old enough to make a move herself, and by then he had a little girl and a wife. And even when his wife up and left, Joel couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from her.

“I’ve always been impressive,” she teased, glancing over at him. “Not my fault you’re blind in your old age.”

Joel scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m almost certain you and I are barely five years apart.”

“Feels like decades.”

They fell into a silence as the bar started to liven up, people wandering in and getting the party started. Her fingers fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist —one that Joel had given her the first Christmas she spent with him and Sarah. She couldn’t find herself parting with it; as much as she knew she should, she just couldn’t. The charm —a single star —was loose and she tried tightening it while she fiddled.

She stole a glance at Joel, who was looking at her with a small frown on his face. He reached over, taking her wrist without a word to fix the charm himself. His touch on her skin lit a fire that she had to put out immediately. She couldn’t keep looking at him; refused to. The look in his eyes reminded her of the one he gave when she left.

And she couldn’t fall for it again.

“I gotta get home,” she announced, hopping off her barstool. “My dad is waiting for me; promised I’d stay with him while I was in town.”

Joel nodded once, looking away from her finally. “Don’t be a stranger; Sarah’s soccer season ended so she’s home in the evenings. Doubt she remembers ya, but I’m sure you remember her.”

It was a subtle dig; a reminder that she had left and tried her damnedest not to come back. But she wouldn’t let him see how it bothered her, giving him a polite smile.

“I’ll try to stop by.”

Both of them knew she wouldn’t though.

2003 —Somewhere in east Texas

One month after the outbreak

“You sure that’s the address?” Joel asked, looking up at a building.

Just like most places, it seemed abandoned aside from a handful of looters trying to get whatever they could. One of the many luxury apartments of Houston, left to the elements and whatever else found its way into the building.

Tommy held out a worn out piece of paper to him, the ink faded from being folded over so many times. Joel took it, looked it over a few times, before he cast his gaze up.

“We gotta get to the eighth floor then.”

“Leave it to her to live on the fuckin’ top floor,” Joel grumbled, shaking his head.

“If she’s even there,” Tommy reminded him, looking up at the building.

He glanced at his brother, frowning deeply as Tommy fell prey to the thought that she was dead. Tommy was the one to assume the best; to assume she was alive.

Joel assumed she wasn’t.

It was easier to assume the worst than hope for the best.

Trekking up eight flights of stairs was living hell, given that at any moment someone —something could attack. Guns drawn, backing up stairs to cover each other…it was something that the two had grown used to doing over the last month. But silence enveloped the building, and by the time they made it to the top floor unscathed, things seemed…fine.

“Apartment 818E,” Tommy reminded him, motioning for him to follow down the hall.

Joel had an uneasy feeling as he peered into open apartments, checking for threats. It seemed that looters hadn’t made it up eight flights of stairs, leaving many of the apartments alone. But it was too quiet; too easy. Nothing in this new hell was easy.

Tommy stopped, standing in front of a closed apartment door. The numbers were eschew, like someone tried prying them off. But the door was unlocked when he reached for it, gun drawn. Joel followed close behind as they pushed open the door. And it was like walking into a memory.

Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, but it was clearly still her home. Pictures on the walls, books stacked on the coffee table. Dishes were still in the sink, and the upturned faucet suggested that the water had been running when she left. Joel stepped through the living room, glancing over the photos that littered the space.

But he stopped in front of one —staring at him through dust and cobwebs. It was a photo of him and Sarah, right after Sarah’s first birthday, not long after his ex left. He remembered that day; she had insisted on taking a new family photo because fuck her, who needs her? And when Joel tried to argue that Sarah needed her mother —she reminded him that Sarah had her, and did he.

There was a photo next to it, one he didn’t remember taking. Tommy had his arm around her shoulders, and Joel had his around her waist. The photo was snapped as she looked up at Joel —like she was caught staring at him instead of smiling at the camera. It was right before Tommy had left for basic, at his going away party. She looked up at him like she was seeing the stars for the first time.

And Joel wondered, briefly, how he had been so fucking stupid not to notice.

He lifted the photo off the wall, wiping away the grime. There was a hole in his heart where Sarah was missing; and now another hole where she was too. He glanced at the photo of him and Sarah, taking it down next. Tommy was still searching the house, but Joel was prying the backs of the frames off and taking the photos out. He couldn’t leave them behind.

“Find anything?” He asked, taking a breath to calm himself down. Feelings didn’t mean shit at the end of the world, anyway.

When Tommy didn’t answer, Joel pushed the photos into his back pocket and returned to searching. He found Tommy standing in her bedroom, staring at the floor. Joel’s gaze followed, and even though he had assumed the worst —seeing the blood stains on the carpet twisted everything inside him until it ached.

“Maybe it’s not hers,” Tommy mumbled, kneeling down to look the stain over. Joel was about to argue, but Tommy’s voice cracked as he spoke again. “She was always fighting, she probably got away —,”

“Tommy,” Joel scolded gently, kneeling beside his brother. “Tommy, we need to go.”

But Tommy just shook his head, staring blankly at the blood stain. Joel huffed in frustration, pushing himself off the floor. He’d give his brother a few minutes; let him accept that she was really gone. It was easier that way —Joel had accepted she was dead weeks ago.

He took a moment, looking around her bedroom. It was a mess; like she was in the middle of cleaning up when everything went wrong. Clothes were hanging from her drawers and her curtains were drawn. The bed wasn’t made, with the covers practically pushed onto the floor. The pictures on her nightstand were knocked over from the blankets being thrown, and Joel moved over to set them back up.

Sitting on the nightstand was a worn, silver star. The jump ring was twisted open, and the star itself had a copper tint from being worn down over years. Joel hesitated just a moment before picking it up, looking it over. He’d tried to fix it last month, but she wouldn’t let him get too close. And now, he held the charm in the palm of his hand, throat closing up.

“Tommy, we need to go,” Joel finally decided, trying to keep himself together. “We gotta get moving. She’s gone.”

Reluctantly, his brother stood and rubbed a hand over his face. Then, after composing himself, he and Tommy left what was left of their old life behind.

Joel, however, pocketed the charm.

2023 —Present Day

Somewhere near the border of Wyoming

“Why couldn't the skeleton share the bad news?” Ellie asked, kicking her feet out in front of her.

Joel rubbed his face, groaning as she giggled to herself, holding the joke book. “God, why?”

“Because he didn’t have the heart!”

He hunched over, closer to the fire, giving her an unamused look as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ terrible, kid.”

“You’re just not funny.”

As Joel was about to argue, a gunshot rang out in the distance. Both of them went silent, with Joel smothering the campfire and him pushing Ellie behind rocks that they had taken refuge in for the evening. Joel stayed low, pulling out his own pistol. He glanced back at Ellie, who was peering out from behind the rocks, clutching her pocket knife.

“Stay here,” Joel ordered, giving the girl a hard look.

“But —,”

“No,” he interrupted, pointing at her. “Stay. Here.”

Ellie huffed in anger, but fell against the rock. Joel took a breath, shaking his head for a moment before he began making his way towards the gunshot. Another rang out —then another. The shots were getting closer —too close, and he was readying himself for a fight as he inched closer to the woods.

The sound of snowing and ice crunching under boots was loud enough that it pierced the silence of the night like a knife. Someone was being chased, and Joel feared the worst. There were too many possibilities of what could be running towards him, and he wasn’t about to take any chances as he pushed up against a tree, pistol at the ready.

Another shot rang out, and a high pitch scream came next.

“Son of a bitch.”

Joel blinked, that overwhelming pain in his chest suddenly taking over as he listened. The voice was painfully familiar —older, hoarse, but familiar. He peered around the base of the tree, catching just a glimpse of a woman, holding her shoulder as it bleed into her hands. Her gun lay on the ground beside her.

But it was her.

Twenty years —twenty goddamn years, and there she stood in front of him. Covered in blood —fresh and old —and being shot at in the wilderness of Wyoming. Older too; but they both were. Her lip was busted, bruised and bleeding. But it was her.

He wondered if she had looked for him and Tommy, like they had for her.

“You can’t run,” a voice called from further away. Joel, unable to catch his breath, leaned back against the tree.

“Thought that was the fucking point,” she snapped back, reaching down to snatch her gun back up, pointing it hastily into the woods. Joel couldn’t see where she was aiming. “I thought you were hunting me —prey runs, you dipshit.”

“Didn’t think you’d run so damn far.”

The other voice, distinctly male, emerged a few feet away from where Joel hid. He peered around one more time, making sure that it was just her and him. Her gun turned to her attacker, bad arm tucked into her side as she practically bared her teeth in a growl.

“One more step,” she warned, hand trembling as she held the gun. “And I’ll shoot you.”

“You can barely aim with your good arm, what makes you think you’ll hit me now?”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“I gave you that option.”

“And yet I still chose being hunted over your dick.”

Joel had heard enough, turning from behind the tree and taking aim. There was no pause; he did not hesitate. He just pulled the trigger and watched her assailant drop like the fly he was. He didn’t stop, though, emptying his clip until the man was a bloody, unrecognizable mess. Even with it emptied, he pulled the trigger several more times as he saw red.

She had whipped around, gun pointed at Joel now. Her movements were sluggish, and she was wincing from the wound in her arm. But he put his hands up, finger off the trigger. Her eyes widened as her hand shook, dropping her gun in the snow. It was littered in blood stains, and Joel thought back to that day they had found her apartment empty.

“Joel?”

Hearing her say his name —after twenty years —felt surreal. Almost like he was hallucinating. How many nightmares and dreams did he have about her? Begging her to stay, trying to find her only to watch her disappear again? He’d forgotten the sound of her voice, how sweet it was —even now, broken and older. But hearing his name from her lips took him back and suddenly he was in the house again, laughing in the backyard with Sarah and her.

He lowered his hands, slipping the pistol into his holster. She stared at him with wide eyes, as if she was seeing a ghost. Joel hesitated, but took half a step forward. She took a step back, breathing heavily as she watched him. It was like she was a feral animal, afraid to let him near.

“Joel!”

He turned at the sound of Ellie’s voice, who was running up on him. When he turned back around, she was taking off back into the woods, clutching her arm and holding her gun.

“Where the hell are you going?” Joel called after her, and she briefly paused —glanced over her shoulder at him —then kept going.

For a moment, Joel considered going after her. How could she just take off like that? But Ellie sidled up to his side, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket as she watched the woman walk away through the snow. Then he decided he couldn’t.

“You know her?” Ellie asked, brow furrowed.

“I…yeah,” was all Joel could muster up saying. “Yeah, I do.”

*****

The remainder of their trip to Jackson was filled with questions from Ellie about the woman in the woods. Who is she? Why didn’t we go after her? Was that your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god it was.

By the time they had called it for the night the first day after seeing her, Joel had given the bare minimum he could to answer Ellie. Admitting anything more would just trudge up memories he didn’t want to relive, and make it harder to not go after her. She clearly didn’t want their help, and he knew well enough that meant she’d fight them tooth and nail to avoid it. It’s what he would have done too. It wasn’t worth the risk to Ellie. Not when they were so close to getting her to Tommy and to safety.

After two weeks worth of walking and finally arriving in Jackson, Joel had tried to forget he had even seen her. There was no reason to tell Tommy; no reason to give him any hope that he had seen their old friend. Tommy had enough going on —with Maria being pregnant, there wasn’t a good excuse to bring it up anyway.

Following dinner —where they enjoyed a meal that wasn’t expired, and Joel thanked God for that —Tommy offered to show them down to the stables. Ellie was overjoyed, ready to interact with any and all animals she could. Joel just followed along as Maria explained the different posts that Ellie could help with if they stayed, all working with the different animals the community raised. Joel and Tommy fell back some, though Joel kept his eyes on Ellie.

“You know, I wanted to wait to tell you,” Tommy started, slipping his hands in his pockets as they both watched Ellie pet the horse in front of her. “But about a week ago, someone showed up at the gate —I don’t think you’ll believe me —,”

But Joel interrupted, whispering her name, before looking at Tommy. The younger man looked surprised that Joel knew.

“How did you —,”

“We ran into her a few weeks ago,” Joel explained, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was…shit, I don’t know. Being hunted. I killed the guy, but she took off.”

“Explains the shitty stitch job she had when she got here.”

Joel just nodded, trying not to think about her stitching herself up in the middle of the woods, alone. Though he had tried hard not to think about the other things she had experienced, alone, over the last two decades.

“She spent a couple nights in quarantine but we got’er set up in one of the apartments in the center. I’ve been checkin’ on her, but she hasn’t said much; didn’t even mention seeing you.”

Joel just shrugged, watching Ellie still. But he decided it was for the best to change the subject; for now anyway. “I need your help, Tommy.”

*****

When she had arrived in Jackson, she was certain that she was going to die at the gate. Her shoulder was infected —not from a bite, but from lack of taking care of it. She had stitched herself together with a dirty needle and thread she had tucked away in an abandoned cabin not far from where Ryan —her attacker —had died. Her supplies were still there when she returned, and she thanked the universe for not fucking her over even more.

With Ryan and his brothers gone, she was finally free from the nightmare she had been living in. Even if it meant dying at the gates of the community she’d only heard stories about…she died free.

But when the gate opened and she dropped to her knees in front of the masked guards, she heard her name being yelled. Frantic, shocked, terrified. But goddamn, she knew that voice.

“Tommy,” she breathed as he froze in front of her. She was covered in blood, worse for wear, and she knew what he was thinking. “I-I’m not infected, I swear, I was shot —,”

“We’re gonna get you to the clinic, okay?” He promised, motioning for the guards to help her up. A dog approached her, sniffing her over for several minutes, before returning to Tommy’s side. “See? Not infected; the dogs can tell.”

He ended up lifting her into his arms and carrying her through the gates. It felt like every part of her was just getting heavy, and her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything around her. But she was with Tommy; she was with someone she knew. And he was safe, and he was there. And when she woke up —if she woke up —she’d tell him she was saved by who she thought was Joel.

“I gotcha,” he promised, “You just gotta stay awake for me. Can you do that?”

She hummed in response, but her eyelids were too heavy and soon, the world had turned to black.

*****

When she woke, Tommy was sitting next to her bed with another woman. They didn’t notice her staring at them through half closed eyes, taking a moment to consider if she was dead and this was heaven. But then, she moved just enough and she gasped in pain. Her shoulder stung, her head ached, and Christ, she was thirsty.

“Hey, hey, don’t move,” Tommy ordered softly, pushing her good shoulder down into the pillows. “You’re just fine; you’re safe.”

She stared at him for a long time, reaching out to touch his face. Twenty years was such a long time, and he had changed so much. Everyone changed, of course. The world was nothing like it was when they were kids, but he was still Tommy Miller; still her friend and the boy next door. And as he touched her hand, she started crying.

*****

After a week in the clinic, Tommy set her up with a small apartment in the center of the community. He tried apologizing for how small it was, but she waved him off, insisting that it was far better than anything she’d experienced in years. When he tried to push for more, she told him she wanted to settle in and that she would tell him more later.

He left it at that, and left her alone.

It was a small space, but it was her space. She had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. And for a very short moment, she thought it was some semblance of normal. But when she got into the shower —washed out the grease and grime and remaining blood from her fight —and watched that faded crimson circle the drain…well, it wasn’t normal. It never would be.

And when she stepped out, feeling cleaner than she had in nearly two decades, she finally saw her reflection. Her lips were bruised and split, with a scar across her cheek to her ear. Bruises littered her skin, enough so that her entire chest and shoulder were completely discolored. The bags under her eyes —not from being hit, shockingly, but from pure exhaustion —made her look sick. Though god forbid, she was incredibly malnourished as it was.

Maria —Tommy’s wife, she had explained —came by with containers of food. She explained she and Tommy led the community, and that usually people ate the mess hall. But of course, no one expected her to right away. She wanted to joke, to tell Maria that she seemed too good for Tommy. But she stopped herself, because how would she know that? The Tommy she knew before the outbreak and the Tommy Maria knew were two completely different people.

By the end of her first week, she was finally finding herself trying to explore Jackson. Tommy had offered to give her a tour, but she told him to go help Maria with whatever she was doing. He had hesitated, but eventually left her to her own devices.

The remainder of her day was spent alone, wandering through the community. People greeted her, and she offered them soft smiles in response, but didn’t linger long enough to talk more. Exploring and socializing were two very different things, and she wasn’t ready for the socialization part of being there yet.

So she wandered the perimeter, counting her steps as she memorized each entry point. Nodded to the guards and thanked them. Then she made her way back around the other way. It’s what she had done in the Dallas QZ; memorized every weak point that she could sneak out of. It was the only thing that kept her sane for the first few years, before she finally managed to get the hell out.

Two twenty-three, two twenty-four, two twenty-five, two —

Her name was called, disrupting her counting, and she froze mid-step. Her name was yelled again, and that same familiar drawl that she had heard in the woods —that she thought she heard.

Slowly, she turned.

Twenty steps away stood Joel Miller, watching her.

She hadn’t been seeing things. It wasn’t blood loss or drug induced hallucinations —Joel was really eighteen steps away from her.

Seventeen.

He said her name again, and she took two steps towards him.

Fifteen.

“Joel,” she managed to croak out as she took three more steps.

Ten.

Eight.

Joel took four more; she took four. They met in the middle, and her arms were around his middle before she could stop herself. His snaked around her shoulders, pulling her into him without another word and she gasped as she started crying into his jacket. Joel pressed his lips to her hair, and she sobbed harder, clinging to him.

“It’s okay,” he promised, holding her close to him. “It’s alright, darlin’. Don’t you cry; it’s okay.”

How many nights did she dream of him calling her that again? Even after she accepted he didn’t want her, that he let her leave —she dreamed of it for years, wishing she could see him one more time. Apologize for leaving, and tell him she missed him. Tell him how she wished she had asked him to come with her, to bring Sarah and they could be a family together properly.

It was too late for that; too late to apologize. To have a family, and a life like what they had before. But he was there, and he was real.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice muffled by his jacket. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

He hushed her, promising her again that everything was going to be okay. “C’mon —sun’s setting. Let’s get inside before it’s dark.”

She nodded, letting him pull away. But his touch didn’t disappear, instead turning into him wrapping his arm around her shoulders to lead her back into town. Nobody said a word to them as she sobbed into her hands, letting Joel guide her wherever they were going.

She would have let him guide her to hell if it meant being close again though.

*****

They didn’t actually say anything to one another for a long time. Joel had brought her to the hole in the wall Tommy had given him and Ellie to stay, and when they sat down —she just cried. He didn’t know how to console her, or calm her down. So instead he simply let her cry, and held her while she did so. As Joel held her, he could feel her body shake with sobs. He could tell that she was struggling with something deep and personal, and he didn't want to intrude on her emotions by prying or trying to speak too soon. So he just held her tightly and waited for her to open up when she was ready.

Ellie had come out of her room at the intrusion, no doubt about to make a snarky comment, but Joel gave her a pointed look. It was a warning, and Ellie backed away as soon as the woman let out another broken sob.

But as her crying slowly subsided, and her tears stopped streaking down her cheeks, she pulled away from him. Joel leaned forward on the sofa, clasping his hands together as she fell against cushions. He wondered how long she’d kept herself from crying; how long she buried all those feelings.

“Feel better?” He asked, leaning back now to properly look at her.

She just nodded, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I’m sorry —Christ, I’m pathetic —,”

“None of that,” he scolded, but he tried to keep his voice soft.

Ellie peered around the corner, and before Joel could say anything, she followed his gaze to the child. Her brow furrowed, staring at Ellie like she was trying to pick her apart.

“That’s not…,” she trailed off, looking back at Joel in confusion. “Did you…Did I miss you having another kid?”

Ellie suddenly snorted, laughing at her question as she finally joined the two in the living room. Joel gave Ellie a careful scowl, frowning deeply as she sat on the floor in front of the two adults. While he never thought he’d have a private moment with her again, he needed Ellie to not interrupt him trying to figure out what was going on.

“I’m not his kid,” Ellie announced, sitting crisscrossed before her now. “I’m his cargo.”

“Don’t say that shit,” he warned, giving Ellie a pointed look. “You’re not –not anymore.”

“But…she was?” She asked, looking between the two curiously.

“Long story,” was all Joel could manage to say, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll…explain it later.”

She looked between Ellie and Joel for a moment, trying to draw connections between the two before she seemed to give up. Her hands rubbed her eyes again, taking a deep breath as she settled into the couch further. Joel simply stared at her, watching her movements. Her fingers tapped against her thigh, a pattern that he was certain she didn’t realize she was making. Her mouth was bruised, with a split lip that was still healing.

“Why’d you run from us?” Ellie suddenly demanded, leaning forward.

“Ellie –,”

But she let out a huff that sounded like a laugh, and Joel turned his attention to her instead of the kid in front of them. He wanted to know too; wanted to understand why she took off when she clearly knew it was him. She’d said his name, after all. But Ellie was too blunt for her own good.

“I…,” she trailed off, trying to think of her explanation. “Do you want the actual answer, or the less terrible one?”

Joel and Ellie glanced at one another, both frowning now. It was Joel who spoke. “The real answer. Please.”

She nodded once, looking down at her hands for a moment. “I thought I was hallucinating, that’s all. Twenty years –what are the odds of you being in the same stretch of woods as me, twenty years after the last time we saw each other?”

“Fucking slim,” Ellie mumbled, looking between the two.

She gave Ellie a surprised look, as if not expecting her to curse. But she shook her head, returning to her story. “I…I’d lost a lot of blood, I think. And I was drugged. Been running for days without eating or sleeping, so I…I saw you, and I really did think it was you. But then…well, she…” She motioned to Ellie then to Joel, frowning still. “I thought, ‘That’s not Sarah; that’s not Sarah so that can’t be Joel,’ and I…figured I was just hallucinating from the drugs and lack of sleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, honestly. But then…I took off before I could think straight.”

Joel stared at her for a long time, taking her explanation for what it was. In a fucked up way, he liked the thought that she had been seeing him in her delirious state. Maybe it was wrong; maybe it was the worst thing to think of. But she thought of him, and he wondered if that meant what he thought it did.

“How’d you end up in the woods?” He asked, eyes roaming over the scars that she had picked up over the years. “Sounded like you knew the fucker that attacked you.”

“That’s…a whole different story,” she sighed then glanced at Ellie. “One I don’t think I can share with a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Ellie complained, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve seen and heard so much worse –,”

“Ellie, please,” Joel scolded, pointing to the bedroom. “I need you to go find something else to do.”

“What the hell am I gonna do?”

“Literally anything. Go.” Joel's voice was stern, and he knew that Ellie was feeling frustrated not being involved. "Ellie, I mean it. Anything else. Just keep yourself busy and stay safe," Joel said firmly.

Ellie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine," she grumbled, turning to head to the bedroom.

As she disappeared from view, Joel let out a sigh of relief. He didn't want to hurt Ellie's feelings, but sometimes she was too stubborn for her good, and while he didn’t expect too long a moment alone with her, he wanted her to feel safe telling him what happened to her. And if that meant having Ellie go occupy herself for ten minutes, then he would make it up to her later.

She watched Ellie walk away, waiting to speak until she heard the slam of the bedroom door. She flinched at the sound, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m sorry, she can stay out here –,”

Joel shook his head, waving off her concerns. “She’ll be fine,” he promised, moving now to sit closer to her. “Sometimes she thinks she’s more grown than she is.”

“I think all teenagers think that way.”

He thought back to Sarah for a moment; how she insisted on doing things on her own only to realize she needed help when it was too late. It was a teenager thing to do, even in the middle of the apocalypse. The thought of Sarah hurt though, and he shook his head to bring him back. He knew that dwelling on the past wouldn't do any good, especially now that he had part of his past sitting in front of him.

“Talk to me,” he ordered, keeping that same stern but soft tone he gave her earlier. It was easier to move forward; keep the conversation going. Even if it meant talking about her past over his. “What happened?”

She bit at her lip, though stopped herself when she remembered the split and the bruise. Instead she opted to pick at the skin around her nails, trying to keep herself occupied. Joel waited patiently, frowning as time wore on. He could sense her unease and wanted to help, but he also knew better than to push her. He shifted his weight on the couch, leaning forward some, feeling the weight of the silence between them.

“Where do I even start?” She finally asked, covering her face with her hands.

“Why not the beginning?” He suggested, reaching out to take her hand. “Tell me what happened, darlin’.”

She hesitated again, looking at their hands. His were a scarred, calloused disaster. Worn and torn from years of violence and labor. Even before the world had gone to shit, they were worked hard from construction. Joel couldn't help but notice the way she hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth between their hands.

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the memory of the last time they touched like this. It was the morning before she kicked him out of her house. She’d stayed the night, having watched Sarah for him while he had gone out to help a friend get their car back and running. It wasn’t the first night they’d spent together, with her waking up in his bed and his lips on hers, lazy in the sunrise. She’d taken his hand, pressing their finger tips together, and asked him if he wanted to talk about her offer to Boeing.

He didn’t want to talk about it then, promising they could later. He remembered her sighing, burying her face back into her pillow even though she still held his hand in hers. He had been avoiding the conversation for weeks at that point —knew he was pushing his luck in her staying with him without talking about it. They hadn’t talked about what had been going on between them; hadn’t put a label to it. She was young and had a life ahead of her. And Joel…well, he was the father of a four year old and too jaded from his ex to put his heart on the line again. He had been afraid to tell her the truth, and by the time she tried to force it out of him, it was too late.

Christ. Had it really been thirty years?

“Joel?”

Her voice broke him from his thoughts, and he focused on her face again. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m listening, promise.”

She nodded again, taking a moment before she finally started to speak. Her free hand ran over her hair as she put into words the last twenty years.

“Uh, so most of the last two decades were in the Dallas QZ,” she explained, “I stopped keeping track around fifteen. Most of my team from the Space Center ended up with me there, and FEDRA had us work on putting the zone together. Guess they thought all engineers were builders –but we basically directed people on how to make shuttles and parts of the shuttle; buildings are completely different.”

“I still can’t believe you were an engineer for NASA,” he admitted, smiling softly at her. “Makes sense since you were always takin’ shit apart and putting it back together, just to see how it worked.”

“I never thought it was an option, but that’s how I managed to get a radio that worked right; I managed to jerry rig something that could pick up on the towers communicating back and forth.” She just shrugged though, looking back down at her hands. “That’s how I found out about this place. Overheard someone passing along the message, and I started to map it out the best I could. I have a shit sense of direction, though.”

“You always did,” he recalled, giving her another small grin. “Remember when you convinced me to drive you and Tommy to Galveston for some concert and you got us lost?”

She smiled, and Joel was certain she was thinking back on it. He remembered that trip well; she’d just turned eighteen, and Tommy was about to head out to basic. They wanted to do something exciting before he left, having asked her parents to watch Sarah for the weekend. Halfway through the trip, she offered to help with Sarah; she hadn’t mentioned getting an offer to go to school in Seattle at that point. He was just happy to have someone who wanted to be there.

He remembered how packed the cab of the truck was, and how she was practically in his lap the entire trip there. At the time, it was like he was suddenly seeing her for more than the girl who hung out with his little brother. She was lively, and excited. Her laughter filled the cab, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her energy. He wanted to spend more time with her, to hear her laugh and chat his ear off. Even when he realized they were lost as shit, it didn’t matter because he was just content with her beside him. Until Tommy reminded them they missed the concert, of course.

“We ended up there eventually!”

“After the fucking concert was over, a day late.”

“We still got there,” she argued, and Joel appreciated that the memory got her to smile just a little. But it faded as she continued to speak. “I told my team, and we were gonna get out of there. After a while though, it's like…like my team just started to disappear. Couple were killed by FEDRA for breaking rules; two others got sick. Then it was just me and…I figured if I was gonna go, I had to go then or never. Think that was, shit. I don’t know? Three years ago?

“I was fine for a year and half, on my own. Didn’t have a fucking clue where I was going, but I was doing okay. And then…I stumbled on this group of survivors –two women, three men. I offered them some supplies to show I wasn’t there to hurt them, and they told me they were headed here too. So I joined them. That’s…that’s when it got bad.

“Lilla, one of the ladies, got infected and attacked us. She bit one of the men, Travis. Obviously we killed them, and got away. But then, I don’t know, the leader of the group –his name was Ryan, he’s the one that you killed –got this sick idea that hunting people was the best way to survive. His wife agreed, and his brother just went along with it. I thought they were psycho, told them and that’s when…well, they decided it was me they would hunt.”

“What the fuck,” Joel mumbled, brow furrowing as he listened to her. Her hand was trembling now, and he reached out to take both her hands in his now. She closed her eyes, tears falling again as she clutched his hands tight. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Long story short, I managed to kill the wife and brother about six months into their stupid ass game; Ryan just kept…he kept finding me. Every time I got away, he showed up. He’d get close enough, get a hold of me –drug me, stab me, whatever he could to slow me down –then let me go again. When you found me…that was, I don’t know, I think the third or fourth time he’d caught me and threw me back out. Like I was some game piece. Then…then you killed him and suddenly, I was free again but I thought I was dying, and…and…”

Finally, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him as she started to cry again. Joel’s stomach churned, the thought of her being hunted for nearly two years. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through, the fear and uncertainty that must have plagued her every waking moment. He had always known that she was strong, but now he realized just how resilient she truly was. Despite the being fucking hunted, she had never given up. He felt a deep sense of respect and admiration for her, and he knew that he would do anything to make sure that she felt safe again. He’d failed her once before; he wouldn’t do so again.

As she cried in his arms, he whispered words of comfort to her, promising her that he would always be there for her. He knew that it would take time for her to heal, to overcome the trauma she had experienced, but he was healing too; he was just as broken as she was. And he wanted to heal with her –with Ellie too. In that moment, as he held her close, he realized he had to keep both her and Ellie safe; that he couldn’t fail them both.

He also realized, then, that he had to continue with Ellie to the university.

Joel pulled back, just enough to take her face in his hands. Tears were in her eyes as she looked up at him, and he couldn’t hold his back anymore. There was hesitation; a fear that lingered before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, feeling the weight of all the emotions between them. It was a kiss born out of sadness; trauma. But also one of comfort and understanding. It took a moment for her to respond to the kiss, but when she did, she returned with a fierceness that surprised them both. Their lips molded together, and their bodies pressed closer as the intensity of their emotions heightened. They both needed this connection, this moment of shared vulnerability, to ease the pain of their past.

They stayed that way for a long moment, lost in each other, before finally pulling away, breathless. Joel rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, feeling grateful for the connection they shared. As they finally broke apart, gasping for air, she looked up at him with tears still in her eyes. But they were different tears now, ones of relief and hope.

“I have to leave,” he whispered, searching her eyes as he pulled back, taking her face in his hands. “I have to take Ellie to Colorado –there’s doctors there; she’s immune somehow. They…they think they can make a cure.”

Her brow furrowed as she processed what he was saying, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Her hand fingers wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. Her eyes dropped, just briefly, on the string around his wrist –to the charm he’d taken years ago. Her tears fell even harder as she realized what it was. “Joel, I-I don’t –,”

“Come with us,” he practically begged, his voice breaking as he did. “I…I can’t lose you again. I won’t. Come with us, and help me get her there. Then we can come back here when the doctors get what they need, and you and I…we can try again; make up for the time we lost.”

She nodded frantically, tears falling over his hands as she started to cry again. He wiped her tears away, pulling her close to rest his forehead against hers once more.

“Yes!” Ellie suddenly exclaimed, running into the room again.

Joel pulled back, though her hands found his to keep him close. “Ellie –,”

“I knew you wouldn’t let go with Tommy!” Ellie continued, throwing her arms around Joel’s neck from behind. “You fucking softie, I knew it!”

One of Joel’s hands reached up, patting Ellie’s arm with a small chuckle. She looked between the two for a moment, a soft smile coming to her lips. Joel looked back at her, unable to help the smile that came to him either.

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot

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kylianswifey · 1 year

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Yacht Day - Kylian Mbappe x reader

Summary: Kylian and Y/N are hanging out with their friends on a yacht. Y/N gets turned on my Kylian in a very inappropriate time. Warning: mention of sex. Word count: 1.7k

The warm sun beats down on my skin as I lounge on the yacht with my friends, enjoying our much-needed vacation. We're all having a great time, laughing and chatting over some beers. It was Kylian’s idea to have a vacation day with Neymar and Bruna, my best friend Violet and her husband Devin with their two year old daughter, Aria. We all grew close together after hanging out a couple of times together at mine and Kylian’s apartment. The chemistry between us as a group was strong so we love to do these kinds of activities together often.

Aria was sitting on my lap showing me her toys she had brought with her. I’ve been friends with Violet before she got pregnant, so I’ve been close with Aria since she was born. Sometimes, Kylian and I babysit her on Saturdays and we love spending time with her. I love seeing Kylian spend time with her. It makes me excited to have a family with him someday. We’ve had that conversation multiple times and we’re both on the same page. “Hey, mama. We have to put on more sunscreen, come on.” Violet reached out her hands to grab Aria from my lap. I hand her Aria and smile at their mother-daughter moment. The other guys were sitting, having a fun conversation because I can hear them laugh.

“Hey, Vi. I’m gonna head out on the deck while you take care of Aria.” “Sure. I’m going to put her down for a nap and I’ll be right out there after.” I nodded and made my way out. The sun was shining, tanning my exposed skin. I was wearing a green skirt and white crop top and a scarf on my head. Bruna was sitting close to Neymar on the couch, with his arm around her, while Devin sat on the floor with a beer in his hand. I spotted Kylian sitting on the stairs with his elbows resting on his knees, holding a beer on his left hand. He looked handsome in white shorts and no shirt.

When Kylian spotted me, he motioned for me to sit on one stair below him, in between his legs. He kissed my forehead and smiled, looking down at me.

“Hey baby, did you have fun with Aria?”

“Yeah, but Violet is putting her to sleep right now. She was tired.” “Aww, I had fun with her too. I took a couple selfies with her.” I smiled at Kylian’s face when talking about Aria. He's a manly man, but he's not afraid to show his softer side, and I find that so incredibly attractive.

“...and then I had to call him to make sure…” Neymar continued his story he was telling before I got here. Kylian lifted his head from looking at me and paid attention to Neymar. Anytime he laughed, I could feel his vibrations on my pressed back on his chest.

Because he was resting his elbows on his knees, I was practically trapped in between him. He held the beer with one hand, and subconsciously ran the fingers of his free hand on my cheek without looking at me.

“Oh yeah, yeah. I remember that. I told Y/N about it, it was so funny.” I didn’t even know what Kylian was talking about, his muscular thighs are making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else.

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I think about how turned on I am by his position behind me. I know I should be paying attention to the conversation, but all I can think about is how badly I want to feel his strong arms wrapped around me.

"Hey, Y/N, are you even listening to us?" Neymar asks, snapping me out of my reverie.

I turn my head to look at him, feeling a little embarrassed. "Sorry, what was that?"

Neymar chuckles. "I was talking about that story that happened at training last week."

I shake my head, feeling a little flustered. "Oh, right. It was so funny."

"I laughed so hard when Ney told me," Bruna says with a smile. "I couldn’t even breathe."

I nod, trying to focus on the conversation again. But it's hard when Kylian's warm breath is tickling my ear, and his fingers are idly tracing circles on my neck. I can feel myself getting wet, and I know I need to get a hold of myself before I embarrass myself in front of everyone.

Kylian seemed to notice the absent state and put his hand to caress my jaw and lightly pushed my head closer to his chest.

"Is everything okay, baby?" he whispers in my ear, and I can hear the amusement in his voice.

I nod, feeling a little embarrassed. "Yeah, everything's fine, Ky."

Kylian chuckles, and I can feel his lips brush against my ear.. "You know, I can feel you getting turned on, right?"

I feel my face flush bright red, and I try to pull away from him. "Kylian, please," I whisper, hoping that nobody else can hear us.

He leans closer to my ear, talking in a low voice.. "We just got here, baby.."

I lift my head to look at his face and close my eyes, making a pouty face. ”I knoww!”

He chuckles at me and kisses my lips and leaned close to my ear again, I look down. ”I’ll take good care of you when we get home, baby.”

His warm breath on my skin sent a rush of sensations through my body, and I couldn't help but feel a little weak in the knees. His words were a soft and gentle murmur, but they carried a weight that made my heart skip a beat. In that moment, everything else faded away and it was just the two of us, lost in each other's embrace.

“Ky, don’t do that please..” he knows I get weak when he does that.

He grins and runs his hand up and down my thigh.” Do what?” I grip his thighs. “You like to torture me, don’t you?” I looked back up at him, giving him a look that begged him to stop turning me on more.

“Baby, everyone is looking at us..”

“Hey, Aria finally fell asleep, what are you guys chatting about?” Violet came out on the deck and sat next to her husband.

Violet’s entrance brought me back to reality and I looked up at Kylian.” Baby, stop doing that.” “I’m not doing anything!” he nuzzled his nose deeper into my neck as he said this. “That!”

But he didn't stop, and instead, he enjoyed seeing me in this shy, turned on state. He loved having this effect on me, and I couldn't help but love it too.

As the conversation died down, I excused myself to the bathroom, hoping to calm myself down. I splashed some water on my face and took a deep breath, trying to control my emotions. I sat on the bathroom counter and took a moment to calm down before heading out. I closed my eyes and relived the position I was in minutes ago, between my hot, unresistable boyfriend’s legs.

The door opened and a happy, smirking Kylian walked in. He locked the door behind him and came up to me, standing between my hanging legs on the counter. His soft lips brushed against mine. He traveled his lips down my neck, my chest and ran his on my butt.

“Kylian…” I closed my eyes letting out a small moan.

He kissed me and spoke with his lips against me.”Shh, quiet baby. I will take care of you.” I couldn't resist him any longer, and I didn't want to. I needed him now more than ever, and he knew it. As he continued to kiss me, I felt his hand slide up my thigh under my skirt, making me shudder with pleasure. He shushed me every time I moaned, his lips finding mine again and again, silencing me with his kisses.

His hand continued to move higher and higher, until it reached my middle. I gasped as he slid a finger in, and I felt myself getting wetter and wetter.

“Shh, be a good girl, baby.”

He continued to finger me, his mouth exploring every inch of my neck, and I couldn't control myself any longer. I moaned, feeling the pleasure building up inside me. Kylian's touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. He added another finger, stretching me out, and I gasped as the sensations became even more intense.

"Kylian," I moaned, unable to hold back the pleasure building inside me.

He shushed me again, his mouth finding mine in a passionate kiss. As his fingers continued to move inside me, I felt myself getting wetter and wetter, my body on the brink of orgasm.

And then it hit me, a wave of pleasure washing over me as I came undone in his arms while I hung my mouth open as he kissed the corner of my lips, looking in his eyes as he did the same. My body was shaking with ecstasy, and he held me close, whispering words of love and comfort in my ear.

He continued to hold me close against his chest as I caught my breath, my eyes still closed. He kissed my neck and ran his hands on my back. I opened my eyes and loosely wrapped my arms around his waist.

“You okay, love?” he pulled away from the hug and cupped my face, softly kissing my lips. He always asks me that after sex, it’s one of his aftercare things.

“I feel amazing, baby. I love you.” I smiled at him and he pressed his lips against my forehead. “I love you too, amor.” He helped me hop off the bathroom counter.

“You go join the guys back there as I fix myself up and change my skirt and panties, okay?”

He nodded and gave me a quick peck before he left the bathroom. I stood there looking at myself in the mirror, smiling like an idiot, thinking about the way Kylian makes me feel. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be able to call him mine.

#kylian imagines #kylian mbappe one shots #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe imagine #mbappe imagines #mbappé #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe request #kylian mbappe series #fanfiction #neymar jr imagines #neymar jr #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr fanfiction

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vole-mon-amour · 2 months

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1x09, part 3.

I'm so sad for him. He would literally forgive her ANYTHING.

He's TERRIFIED at the idea of losing her. And he's so right, Vi can't bring back Powder. It was so obvious when Jinx lit a fire & Vi got a taste of what Jinx is like these days. Vi wouldn't be able to control her, nor would she be able to love her when she's like this. The problem is, it IS her nowadays. There is no Powder anymore. It's such a fucking tragedy that Silco dies.

Honestly, say it, Silco. V is into Caitlyn now way more than she is into Jinx. Actually, she's not into Jinx at all. Again, there is NO Powder. Every time Vi calls her that, I cringe. I can't stand that name, it's simply not her. Just like Silco says, "that girl does not exist anymore".

And it's only them, you see? And she's his daughter, you see? ;______; The way he loves her, help. ;___; The look he gives her. It doesn't fucking matter she kidnapped him and tied him up and gagged him, he doesn't fucking care, he only wants her and he wants her to stay with him. ;_____; All the walls around him fall apart for her sake. He's the most vulnerable with her.

"I'll never forsake you." The voice acting. The animation. I feel unwell.

Gods, he's so scared she will leave him. So confused about her dropping her gun.

He's like a caged animal when he grabs Jinx's gun. Vi only made it worse for Jinx. But yeah, just like Jinx said, it's up to Vi if she gets Jinx or Powder, and Vi's shouting and SIlco's death sealed the deal.

She really caresses behind his ear as he's bleeding out. Oh, the fucking tragedy. ;___;

"Don't cry. You're perfect." FUCK OFFFFF. The pain is real and I am feeling it. Like, no stills or gifs can truly makes you feel the same if you don't remember the tone of his voice, the feelings in his voice.

"I hope you know we had everything, When you broke me and left these pieces."

Honestly, the difference between Jinx getting Vander killed and Jinx getting Silco killed is that Vi means it and she leaves her. Yes, they were kids, full stop. She gave into those emotions, though. For the moment, she hated Jinx & she meant it. She can never love Jinx.

Jinx kills Silco? He tells her not to cry. He tells her JINX is perfect. She kills him and yet, she's his entire word. "I'll never forsake you. <...> I never would have given you to them. Not for anything." and he MEANS it. As he bleeds out while she holds his face, he tells her not to cry and that she's PERFECT.

"'Cause I, I was meant to be yours."

Yeah, they can all burn, indeed.

V is so confused because how can her sister feel all those feelings for Silco? How can she cry for him? He's a monster, he deserved to die, didn't he? Yeah, she just doesn't understand. Fuck. (breaks down) I love Silco so much.

"Even though I'm different." That's exactly the problem. Vi can't love her as she is now. Silco could. He did.

I'm going to miss him so much.

I hope she doesn't die in s2 (or turns into something that's completely unrecognizable). I really fucking hope so. ;____; And man, Silco is so beautiful. Was? Anyway.

She's alive! My girl is alive! Maybe she'll take over the undercity without Silco? "What we could've been." right when they focus on her and Silco's empty chair. Gods. I'm hurting. The song at the end is absolutely perfect and I can't stop crying.

Oh, Ekko found himself a friend. Oh, what could've been, indeed. This is such a great alliance because Ekko is somewhat a scientist himself and he's open-minded and he has nothing to gain, so he gladly shares about his experience with Heimerdinger.

The animation is incredible. And Vi still chooses Caitlyn over Jinx. Like I said she would. :(

Even Viktor looks hopeful. Season 2, "Devastating"? "No one is going to be happy after watching it"? Oh, they're going to break me.

#jilco #silco and jinx #arcane #silcojinx #natiswatching #long post

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ariundercovers · 3 months

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Traffic Jam (When Paths Cross Pt. VII, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3.5k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: A loaded question and some heated conversations.

Chapter Warnings: no porn only plot, ANGST, spanish nicknames, idiots in love, Chucho being a Dad to two idiots in love (the poor man omg).

A/N: I know this series is moving FAST but I'm so determined to actually finish this one that I'm writing quickly and just rolling with it! I hope the time gaps that are written in aren't too bothersome.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (VI) HERE

You walk into work the next morning with a bright smile on your face, lost in the dreaminess that is Javier Peña. Your head is stuck in the clouds, still giddy from his admission to you last evening.

He loves you.

Javier Peña loves you.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this high. Sure, you’ve felt you were in love before, but it’s never been like this. Never this intense, sudden, unexpected. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

One of your coworkers notices your giddy mood and you end up gushing everything out to her, a stupid smile on your face when you tell her what he said about the necklace, and how he made you panic when he didn’t say “I love you” back right away. She smiles at you, tells you he sounds like a good man, and that she’s happy for you - happy to see you so excited and happy. She says love looks good on you.

And that’s how it goes for the next few weeks. It’s all love and butterflies and perfection and heart eyes and everything else gooey and good. But something keeps nagging at you - a question left unasked, unanswered. You need to know, and eventually, you can’t keep yourself from putting it out there.

When it happens, you’re at the mall of all places, looking for some jeans for Javi and a new suitcase for an upcoming work trip for you, given that you broke one of the wheels on your old one on the last trip. Eventually, you decide to take a rest with some overly sweet Chinese bourbon chicken in the food court. It’s pleasant and simple, but your mind can’t stop whirring, won’t stop thinking about all the possibilities, trying to piece together what your future might look like, what your future could look like.

It’s been long enough, right? You can ask. You can have an adult conversation.

You shared ‘I love you’s, for fuck’s sake. You can ask him this question.

You do your best to settle your nerves before speaking up, finishing up a bite of chicken before setting down your fork and looking up at Javi with a curious glance.

“What do you think about, when you think about the future?” Javi’s brow furrows as he regards you, head ticking to the side as he tries to wrap his mind around the question.

“What do you mean?”

You shrug slightly, thinking nothing of it. “I mean… the usual stuff, you know? Do you want to be in Laredo? Married? Kids? A House of your own? Still on the Ranch? That stuff.”

Javi blinks back at you for a long moment before he shakes his head and averts his eyes back down to where he’s picking at a pile of fried rice. “Yeah… I don’t think any of that is for me.”

You’re taken aback. That’s not the answer you were expecting, and not by a long shot. “Oh… I, uh… what part of it?”

He shakes his head again, looking up at you this time as he sets down his fork. The expression on his face is unreadable to you - like he’s suddenly a different person altogether. “All of it. I don’t… want that. Any of that.”

The two of you are completely silent for a long, long moment. You’re not sure how to phrase the miserable thought and emotion that’s bubbling up inside of you, but you eventually manage to put a few words to at least part of it.

“Does that mean you don’t want me, either?”

Javi looks taken aback as he answers, “No, that’s not what I said.”

“But… if you don’t want to get married, or kids, or a house, or any of it… ever, what’s the point of this? What are we doing?”

He grunts, frustrated as he reaches up to pinch at his brow with his finger tips. “Isn’t this enough?”

You sigh, shrugging. You’re not sure how to answer him. “I mean… for now, but…”

“But what?” He cuts you off before you can even finish the thought. You’re taken aback, again, and you lean forward as you try to muster up a coherent response.

“I’m not a child anymore, Javi. I want to be thinking about the future, I don’t want to keep wasting time with people and situations that don’t want anything to do with me in the long run. You really don’t ever want to get married? Or any of it? Nothing?” He sighs and rolls his eyes at you a little bit, the frustration in his face wildly apparent.

“No. I really don’t.”

It’s hard not to have a horrible expression glued to your face. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. In fact, it’s quite possibly the furthest thing from it.

“Ever?”

Javi slams his hand down on the table, and you’re taken aback by the frustration and power he puts into it. He’s never lashed out at you like this before, and you’re just not sure what to make of it. It startles you at best, maybe scares or frightens you at worst.

“No. Never. Can we move on, now?” You try to blink back the fear and frustration you’re feeling, because you know if you dwell on it much longer, you’ll end up crying. You can feel it brimming quickly behind your eyes.

“O-okay.”

You finish your meals in a terse silence that feels very uncomfortable and out of place for the two of you. You’ve never had this tense of a moment between you before, and you’re not sure how to get out of it. Eventually, you wait long enough without speaking that you just settle back into a relative normal as you’re shopping through the mall, looking for the right style and brand of jeans Javi wants.

It’s stuck in the back of your mind the entire time, however, so much so that you can barely focus on the questions Javi is asking you. You’re so fixated that you walk past several stores with luggage in the front window without even registering it, and Javi has to keep pulling you back to go in and look. Eventually, you give up.

“Javi, can we go home? Maybe we can look another day.” He looks at you quizzically, confused.

“Are you alright, muñeca?”

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling it. I’d like to go home.” He nods and takes your hand, turning around to head back to the exit where he parked the car. Nerves are bubbling up inside of you in a way that you haven’t felt since your final interview for the job at the arts center. Few things have made you freak out this badly, but you just can’t help repeating it in your brain, over and over again.

I don’t… want that. Any of that.

He didn’t want you long-term, either, that much was clear to you. You wondered what he was doing in all of this if he had no plans for longevity. Why keep leading you along like this? Why get you so attached that it’ll just hurt worse the longer he waits to end things? The feelings quickly turn to panic, and turn the contents of your stomach rancid.

You felt hopeless.

Javi leads you to the car, closing the door for you before getting into the driver’s seat and heading out, driving off in the direction of the ranch. The usually lovely winding roads that lead you back to the Peña farm house make you feel sickly and near-ill the entire ride there. It takes everything in you not to vomit in Javi’s passenger seat, holding it in as best as you can until he finally parks in front of the ranch. You hurry inside, past Chucho laid up in his recliner chair in the living room and lock yourself in the bathroom down the hall. You lean over the sink, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. After a few minutes of steady breathing, your stomach settles, and you look in the mirror to be confronted by red-rimmed eyes. You might as well have been crying the entire ride back to the house with how awful you looked.

You turn on the tap and splash some cold water on your face, the chill helping you feel a bit more settled and present in the moment than you had been. You’re still unnerved, your stomach unsettled, but you feel more like a human than you did on the road, certainly. It hits you suddenly that you’re going to need to bring this back up with Javi again to get some clarity. You wouldn’t be able to sleep or hardly even think without it.

Strolling back into Javi’s room, you find him pulling his new jeans out of the bag and removing the tags before tossing them in his hamper to wash. He turns to you with a half smile and a tilt of his head.

“Cariño. You feeling alright?” You nod somberly and have a seat at the end of his bed, waiting for him to finish. He wraps you up in his arms, pulling you down into the bed so he can tuck you in properly. “A nap, perhaps?”

You nod, curling into his arms with relative ease as he strokes your shoulder gently.

It’s keeping you wide awake, so you turn in his arms and look up at his face, sighing as you realize how awful this conversation might be.

“Javi?”

He doesn’t respond at first and you worry he might be asleep already. Eventually, he groans and asks, “What is it, muñeca?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath before you continue. “Javi… can you please talk to me about this no marriage and no kids thing?”

You can feel his body go rigid beneath the sheets - soft arms turn to violent blades wrapped around you as he stiffens. “What is there to talk about? I don’t want it.”

“What if I do? Can’t we just talk about it?” You roll onto your back, hoping a little bit of distance might help the tension you’re feeling between you. He turns and looks at you seriously, blinking a few times before he sighs and drops his head.

“I guess… you’ll just have to figure out how to deal with that disappointment.”

You scoff, his words grating at you. “What? Disappointment? We can’t even have a discussion about it? About the possibility, even?”

He shakes his head, looking back at you for a moment before he responds. “I don’t want it, cariño. I’m sorry.”

You huff, sitting up in the bed and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger inside of you is threatening to bubble up and lash out, so you do your best to temper it before you speak. The last thing you need to do is make all of this worse than it already is. But, the anger is bubbling up too quickly to be able to temper yourself fully. Your words still come out like a knife, sharp and targeted in a way that you’ve never spoken to him before. “So that means you get to make universal decisions for us now, too, huh?”

He’s taken aback as he sits up, as well, looking at you with a confused scowl. “What?”

You inch away from him, eyes boring holes into his skill. “I thought this was supposed to be a partnership.”

“What? Why are you getting like this? Things have been easy, good. I don’t know why you have to complicate it with this.” He shifts, reaching toward you, but you shirk away, his words seeding themselves deeply into your chest.

“Complicate? Is that what I am? A complication? Fuck. That’s not… that’s not what I’m in this for, Javier. I want to be more than a good fuck. I deserve to be more than that.”

“Cariño, that’s not what I said-”

You don’t let him finish his thought before you’re lashing out again. “Isn’t it? You’re not interested in anything more than what we have right now. And what we have right now is a lot of sex and casual conversations. We might as well be friends with benefits if that’s all you want out of this.”

He glares at you, frustrated, and shakes his head before standing up and pacing the room, from door to headboard, back and forth. “That’s… No, fuck. What the hell? You don’t know anything. You don’t fucking know anything.”

“And why is that? Because you won’t talk to me, Javier.”

He throws his hands up in frustration, his voice elevating as he responds. “It’s my business. I’m entitled to not talk about it if I don’t want to.”

You shake your head in disbelief at his obstinance and sigh. This wasn’t going anywhere. Shifting in the bed, you swing your legs over the side of it and stand, looking back at him briefly to respond. “Sure. Whatever. Screw this, Javi. I’m going home.”

Home.

There’s that stupid word again. You were starting to feel like it was more here, more with Javi and with Chucho, than it was anywhere else.

You suppose you were wrong.

Javi’s voice shifts as he starts to plead with you, “Wait, cariño, hold on-”

His begging falls on deaf ears as you collect your things from around the room and head out as quickly as you can, slamming his bedroom door behind you as you rush out, flustered. By the time you get to the front door, you remember you don’t even have your car. Javi drove you here earlier this afternoon. You pause, hand hovering over the doorknob, and you hear someone clearing their throat behind you.

Fuck. Chucho.

You turn around to see him sitting up in the recliner, head tilted to the side as he regards you. His rough voice soothes you after the piercing tones of Javi’s frustration.

“Heading out, mija?” You sigh, visibly deflating at the kind and caring tone he always offers you.

“I was going to, but-”

He cuts you off so you don’t even need to say it yourself. “You need a ride?” As you nod in response, he starts to stand, slowly, knees creaking as he rises. “Come on. I’ll take you.”

You’re grateful beyond belief that he doesn’t push further, doesn’t ask why Javi isn’t out in the living room, or why you need a ride from someone not his son. He just gets up and silently throws on his boots, grabbing his keys from a hook behind the door as he pushes outside, holding the door for you. You climb into the passenger seat of his pickup truck, fastening your seatbelt as he starts it up and pulls around the driveway, heading back onto those same winding roads you had come to love.

A few minutes into the drive, he clears his throat, his wide-brimmed hat tipping in your direction. “I’m not going to ask you if you want to talk about it, because I’m sure you don’t. But I have a few things I’d like to say, if that’s okay.” You turn toward him, eyes trained on the side of his face as he clears his throat again, reaching down to take a sip of the water bottle sitting in the cupholder between you two.

You nod with a small, under-your-breath ‘okay’, and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to begin.

“First, I hope he hasn’t scared you away from me and from the house. I’d be lost if you stopped coming by.” You shake your head vehemently, floored by the suggestion.

“No, never, Chucho. Nothing’s gonna keep me away. I’ll figure out how to deal with this.”

He nods somberly, fingers tapping on the large steering wheel. “Good. That’s good. Now… in the case of my son, I know he can be a lot for many reasons. He’s quite the stupid boy when he wants to be. But he’s been through the wringer since he was young. There’s a lot I’m sure he hasn’t told you, and it’s not my place to say, but just know that he comes to you with a lot of baggage. He’s misguided sometimes, and I can only set him so far in the right direction. He’s been lost for a long time.”

You blink back at him, not shocked by the news nearly as much as you think you should be. It makes sense, given his reaction to you today, and especially given the horrible things that came out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like your Javier.

“Now I know that I’m an old man, and it’s been a long time since I fell in love, but I can see when two people are right for each other. You two… you are right for each other. You’re good together, and you make each other better. I’ve seen it firsthand, especially these last few weeks. Javi is much more pleasant to be around these days.”

You smile at the compliment and lean over to squeeze his shoulder lightly in gratitude.

“Just… give him a chance. Please. I know he can be good for you, too, if he can just get his act together.”

You nod and sigh, shoulders dropping as you take in his words. “I want to. I want to so badly. But I’m afraid that I’m scaring him away, Chucho. I’m not what he wants… he doesn’t want someone this serious, this willing to move things along.”

“Ask him about it, mija. Make him talk to you. There’s so much there. You can help him, I know it. You’re only the second woman he’s ever brought home.” You’re shocked by that admission, to say the least. It was easy to tell that Javi was more into flings than serious relationships given his highly flirtatious personality, but in almost 40 years… only one other person? It surprises you, makes you start trying to rethink the experiences you’ve had with him so far, rethink every comment and frustration. You’re vaguely curious who that other person was, what happened with them.

“I’ll try, Chucho. He just makes it so difficult, sometimes.”

“I know. Believe me, I know he does. But he loves you - I can see it in the way his eyes light up when you arrive, and in the way he pines over you when you’re away. And you do, too. That’s something real - when you have it, don’t let it go. Fight for it. You’re lucky if you find something like that even once in your life.”

Is it really that obvious to Chucho?

You’re more than shocked - you’re amazed by the suggestion. Here you’ve been thinking the whole thing has been one-sided, all stuck on you and your overly ambitious heart.

“Then why does he make it so hard for me to be able to love him back? The right way? Why does he have to make it so difficult?”

Chucho sighs and shrugs, glancing over at you briefly. “That’s Javi’s story to tell, mija, but he’s a fool if he’s trying to write you off completely.”

You thump your head back against the bench seat, arms crossing over your chest. “I just don’t know how to make him see me. See any of this. It’s like he has blinders on or something.”

Chucho nods along and answers, “he does, mija. Installed by a host of events that I can’t disclose on his behalf. But he does have blinders on, absolutely. He’s not seeing straight, not thinking clearly. He’s running on fear and anxiety if anything.”

You’re shocked by that suggestion. “Fear? He’s afraid of me?”

“No, mija. He’s afraid of putting himself out there.” He pulls onto your street, finding a place to pull over next to the sidewalk in front of your apartment and putting the truck in park.

“I don’t think he’s going to listen to me, Chucho. He’s dead set on destroying things all on his own.” He sighs, turning and placing a hand gently on your thigh.

“Just give him a chance, mija. Please. I’m begging you. If anyone can do it, it’s you. Just give him another chance.” You nod back at him and offer him an uneasy smile.

“I will. If he’ll let me. I don’t know if he’s going to let me, though, Chucho.”

He looks at you very seriously at first, but then the serious look morphs quickly into a smirk. He winks at you. “Trust me on this one, if you can.”

You chuckle nervously but smile and respond before getting out of the car and heading up the stairs, back to your lonely apartment.

“Alright. I will.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: And here be the angst. I promise it doesn't linger for too long, but Javi's been through too much to just have things go easy the entire time! These two still have lots ahead of them!

Let me know what you think! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so so so very appreciated!

xoxoxo

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NEXT PART (VIII) HERE

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