#when i say giffing this almost killed me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soaps-mohawk · 3 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”

“Good.”

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.

Tattoos.

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.

He has a point.

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.

Don’t back down.

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“It’s his fault.” You murmur.

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours.

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”

You nod. “Ozone.”

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.

That word again.

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.

Ask for one thing that you want.

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.

You could ask for something that’s not material.

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.

You can want this.

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.

You want this.

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

This isn’t a want.

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.

“Come in.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

3K notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 9 months

Note

i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs

Night air.

3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.

SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤

—--- JOEL——

Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming. He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.

He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about. When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door. The meeting becomes heated.

“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks. “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.”

Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up.

Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here. It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense.

He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.”

Joel picks up his rifle.

"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."

Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat. "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone.

Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun. When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post.

Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house. He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles. Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.

“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.”

The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you.

“Now back to business.”

They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case.

Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something. But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.

–

When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood.

You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel. He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it.

He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come. Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”

You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better.

“Good.”

In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.

—--

One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does. What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking. He’s working on something. He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it. Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you. Practical things.

He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there. He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being. It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed.

Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.

Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it. But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself.

Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small. He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl.

He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.

—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----

You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more. He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up. You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie. He puts something down on the ground, out of view.

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down. His eyes are dark as he watches the flames. He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.

"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask.

His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown.

“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”

“Can I help?”

He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle. You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment. He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head. “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.”

You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too. You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.

The fire is still blazing. There’s no sign of him putting it out. It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire. The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it.

You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough. All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes.

All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you. You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died. You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck. You try to visualize the look in his eyes.

And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it. And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm.

—----- JOEL —------

You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E', then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest.

He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening.

He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer. The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground. The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes. The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.

His eyes fall on your mouth again.

If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close. And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is.

His lip twitches as he watches you sleep. Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.

Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet.

He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body. Fuck. He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva. He's quickly gotten hard.

Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep.

He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you.

–

Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now. He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric.

You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip. He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast.

He asks, “You 'wake?”

“Mmm,” you answer weakly.

"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness.

Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh.

He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger. You ask, "are you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely. He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug. You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together.

Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.

—---YOU 🌸🫛—---

Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely.

“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear, "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name. Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps.

“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit. The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers. That’s what you need. You moan.

“Good girl.”

You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies. You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged. You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you. Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful. “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.”

“Joel,” you whine.

‘Ohh,” he moans.

“Joel, I’m–”

“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”

Your upper back presses into his chest. He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming. He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.

When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you. You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours.

At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too.

Smut continues here: asleep inside

Next major chapter: hunger

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333

Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak.

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr. Some of my fics are pretty dark!

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list soon, sorry ⚠️

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

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tw violence #joel miller angst #joel x reader #joel miller fic #tlou joel #tlou smut #raider joel #dark!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters

2K notes · View notes

iikatsukii · 1 year

Text

Too Late.

synopsis: they loved you when it was too late.

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! Reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: mentions of death, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts(?), swearing, familial issues.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: would yall believe me if i said i wrote this while listening to pussy talk by city girls LMFAOOOOO p.s. Happy valentines day (THE RED TEXT IS "FESTIVE" im trynna get into the valentines day spirit :D). I wish i could've given yall part two of illicit love instead of this but i'm not done with it </3. ALMOST THO!!! (gif creds: @world-of-pandora)

(p.s. part two is out now!!)

it was never supposed to end like this. jake's mouth felt bitter. his whole body shook as he let out the most heart-stopping scream when his eyes landed on his eldest daughter. you, neteyam's twin, lay lifeless in his arms. your father cried because he never got to tell you he was proud of you, or that he loved you, or that you didn't need to compare to your brother to still be considered his baby girl.

it wasn't always like this, though.

you and neteyam were always happy and playing around together when you were younger. still, as you two grew older, neteyam took on olo'eyktan training and became his father's perfect warrior. where does that leave you? mo'at had chosen kiri to pursue tsahik training because of her apparent connection to eywa. so where does that leave you? lo'ak took on the role of the troublemaker, and tuk, of course, is just the baby of the family. so where does that leave you?

you're lo'ak's babysitter. making sure the boy doesn't get into trouble, but with your lack of training due to your father training your brother more than you, you weren't really the best babysitter. honestly, it was more lo'ak protecting than you protecting him. he kept you from losing balance while in high places, saved you when you fell into the rapids and flew you home when you forgot your way as if you had not lived in this forest your whole life.

you felt like a burden on your family.

nothing you ever did was right.

you went hunting? cool, but you didn't bring back enough for the whole family, so now neteyam and lo'ak have to go out and find more food for everyone else.

you bead a necklace for your friend? great, but you messed up the pattern she asked for, so she brought it to kiri so she could remake it.

tuk wanted to go play with you? of course! but now she has a sprained ankle from falling into the river while you were looking at flowers a few feet away.

and every time, somehow, some way, your family always managed to say something that felt like a blade stabbed through your heart.

"next time, y/n, just leave the hunting to neteyam and i. at least we know the right amount to bring back." it was lo'ak before he and your twin had to go hunting for more food for dinner a few weeks ago.

"you know, sister, your jewelry hasn't been the same recently. i've had sooo many of your friends coming back to me saying you messed up the pattern they asked for. just try and pay more attention when you're beading." kiri said as you walked into your home. she was re-beading the necklace you gave to your best friend yesterday.

the one she told you was perfect and that she loved it.

"how could you leave your sister unattended like that y/n she could've been killed?! why can't you be like neteyam? you’re twins, for crying out loud, y/n. do you not care for your sister's well-being?" your father scolded you outside your grandmother's hut. you could hear her cries inside the tent, along with your mother's gentle words of comfort, as she tried to calm her youngest daughter down.

you were being compared to your twin for the millionth time in your life, and as used to this as you should be, it still hurt just as bad as the first time your father had said it.

"she only sprained her ankle. it was an accident sempu–" you tried to defend yourself, but you were cut off.

"NO. it is, sir. do you understand me?" jake yelled at you. in your 18 years, your father had never raised his voice at you, let alone for you calling him 'sempu.' he used to love it when you called him because you were his ite and he was your sempu. but right now, to him, you were just someone who had hurt his child and nothing more than that. you hang your head, eyes falling to the floor in front of you as you didn't want your father to see you cry.

"sorry, sir." was all you said before walking away. you don't know where you walked, but you found yourself at the abandoned shack. you knew this area was forbidden, so when you realized where you were, you immediately crouched. you were just gonna walk back because your father would kill you if he found out you were over here, but then you heard voices. you looked through the bush to see a group of 3 or 4 avatars. you knew you couldn't escape now, so you pressed on the collar of your neck.

"sempu– sorry. sir, i need help, i wasn't paying attention to where i was walking, and i can hear avatars speaking english and–" your father cut you off.

"where are you?" he, your mother, and your two brothers were patrolling around your land's territories when they heard you through their earpieces.

you let out a heavy sigh, praying to eywa that he wouldn't chew your ass up for being here, before pressing the button again and saying,

"i'm at the abandoned shac–AHH! OWW, LET GO, YOU ASSHOLE!!" you couldn't finish as one of the avatars found your hiding spot, grabbing you by your queue.

thankfully your family had heard enough. your twin telling his father he knew a shortcut, they all flew as fast as they could to you. honestly, this was their last straw. everyone was fed up with you constantly making things hard for everyone.

your mother, though, was worried. you were caught by those skydemons all by yourself. who knew what they would do to you?

as you waited for your family, you were roughly held by your queue as they poked and prodded at you like they had never seen a native before.

"let me see your hands." the man with a buzzcut spoke.

"why don't you look at my feet instead?" you said. they all gave you a confused look until you kicked quaritch right in his face. you don't know how, but it caused the avatar behind you to loosen his grip, so you tried to make a break for it.

unluckily for you, the female avatar grabbed your arm, pulling you back into her form. she gripped you by your neck, unaware that she had pressed the button on your communicator. you hissed at her. the man you had kicked was only laughing as he wiped the blood dripping from his nose. "she must be one of his. she's defiant. grab her hands, let me see." he said

the avatar behind you grabbed your hands, holding them both out.

"hm… four fingers. maybe she's not one of his." were they gonna let you go? wishful thinking.

"fine. she may not be one of his but if one of their people go missing they're bound to come for her. keep her." his words made your heart sank. were they gonna take you? away from everything? your home? your family? if you could even call it that.

but then you thought about it. you really can't call it that. you don't remember the last happy memory you had with someone, anyone, in your family. it clicked to you that it had been about 10 minutes since you had radioed your father, and he wasn't here yet. were they even coming for you? you knew it was a stupid question. they weren't coming for you. why would they when this was the easiest way to get rid of the weak link of the family? it's not like your blood would be on their hands, and their life would be way better without you.

"they're not gonna come for me. i have no family. you killed my family in the last war, you dickhead." you lied to the man you had kicked earlier.

hearing you say this confused your family. what were you talking about?

"dammit you're an orphan? i didn't know the na'vi had any of those. then what do we do with her. she's useless. nobody will notice she's gone." the woman behind you asked her superior.

"hmm.. i have a better idea. kill her. use her as a warning to the sullys. this is what we're capable of now. it'll be a threat. give us jake sully and nobody else will die. but this one… this one is our lab rat. we're gonna make you bleed out nice and slow little one." he said as he grabbed his pistol off his waist, pressing it below your jaw. the nickname made you internally gag, but you held your ground.

these people had no real idea how tired you really were. you were exhausted. you were ready for life with eywa. you wanted your deity to hold you close, keep you warm, and protect you from the harsh real world. the world that your parents didn't adequately prepare you for. the world that you were ready to leave.

"kill me," you said as you grabbed quaritch's wrist and moved his gun from under your jaw to right above your heart. "and make it quick. nobody will come for me anyways," you said in a monotone voice.

the avatars all looked at you in awe. they had never once seen a na'vi so willing to give up their life. the natives they had all met were vicious, hissing and armed, always ready to kill. but you. you were the opposite.

you were fed up and ready to die. but not for your people. for your own inner peace.

"no," quaritch said, putting his gun down. that shocked everyone. like he shocked his soldiers and your family, who had been listening the whole time. they were trying to get to you as fast as possible.

hearing how you really felt was a wake-up call for your family. and when they heard bullets moving within the chamber of quaritch's pistol, they all flew their ikrans as fast as possible, weaving through trees and around mountains, trying to get to you.

you looked at the man like he had just betrayed you.

"DO IT, YOU COWARD! FUCKING DO IT! NOBODY WILL COME FOR ME!! THEY DON'T CARE!! THEY DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" you don't know what came over you, but you tried to wrestle quaritch's pistol out of his hands. your family was only 2 clicks away and could hear you struggling. everyone landed at the same time. the sullys, excluding tuk and kiri, who had stayed with mo'at, caught quaritch's attention, which distracted him enough for you to pull the gun from his grip.

you distanced yourself from everyone, and looking around, you realized you were surrounded by everyone. your family and these random avatar people. everyone could read you. you were a ticking time bomb and the only person in control of the trigger was you. one of the avatars took a step forward slowly, but you saw him move and point the gun at him. it didn't stop him from moving, but you heard screams of protest when you pointed the gun at your own head. that's when everyone froze. the avatars. your family. nature. time. eywa. you. everything was frozen.

"babygirl…" the nickname made you snap your neck to the man who was the root of your problems.

"NO! no, you do not get to call me that. if i can't call you ma sempu, don't bother referring to me as your daughter." you said. your energy was depleted, and you knew you would only be able to stand here for a couple more minutes before you opened your own doors and walked to your great-mother. jake tried to take a step closer to you, which only caused you to tense up and pull on the trigger a little bit. everyone immediately backed up, your mother hissing at you through her tears. "MA ITE, PUT THE GUN DOWN," she screamed at you.

"sa'nok…" you whimpered, not even being able to look her in the eyes.

"sa'nu… i can't" you sobbed. you could barely breathe and your tears were coming down in waterfalls at this point. you couldn't see anything clearly. your tears had blurred your vision.

you knew your mom loved you. she and tuk were the only ones in the family who had never uttered a harsh word in your direction. though she was busy taking care of tuk, so it wasn't like you got much attention from them either. but there's no way you would blame her or tuk for that. if anything, you're sorry that you have to leave them, but this world isn't for you. you turned on your heels, looking at the man whose gun you took.

"you are a coward. you should've pulled the goddamn trigger. you're fucking pathetic. are you happy now? now everyone here gets to experience what they've waited so long for." nobody had ever heard you speak to anyone like that. honestly, they couldn't tell if your words were directed at quaritch or yourself.

you inhaled, looking up at the eclipse, your bioluminescent freckles glowing brighter than they ever had in the nighttime as tears cascaded down your face.

"goodbye," you said as you squeezed the trigger, hearing a loud bang and tons of screaming. you felt no pain, though. you opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them, and looked around. you noticed your pistol was stuck in the tree in front of you with an arrow clean through it. you turned to your twin with hate in your eyes. he lowered his bow as he read your expression.

"now you wanna save me?" your voice was weak but filled with venom.

"why didn't you save me when you noticed i stopped hanging out with you guys? hm? why didn't you teach me when i was younger? huh? why didn't you talk to me other than when you were chewing my ass out for something that was A FUCKING ACCIDENT, GODAMMIT. WHY?!" you felt like your tears were endless.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME?! ANSWER ME YOU FUCKERS!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!" you screamed your frustrations at your father and brothers. none of them could look you in your eyes, save for your mother. "you only want to save me because you know how much i don't want to be saved anymore but it's too goddamn late," you said.

you turned to the female avatar who was holding you from before. you noticed her gun earlier and hoped you looked threatening enough for her to use it as you ran in her direction. she didn't know what to do. she didn't know you were a barely trained warrior or that you wouldn't have put a scratch on her. she didn't know you were harmless. all she knew was that you were a native, and the natives were hostile.

so she pulled her gun out and fired two shots into your chest.

the momentum of the bullet was enough to stop you from running. you felt the searing pain start to blossom in your chest area. falling to your knees, your eyes met the woman who had shot you. you looked at her shirt, reading her name. it was a funny name to you, but you didn't care. she had fulfilled your wish without even knowing it. so you used your last breath to speak.

"thank you, z-dog" you slumped over on your side, as everything started to go slow. your vision was starting to darken, and you let it consume you, not wanting to fight for your life anymore.

cue the screams and cries from your family and the fleeing steps of the rda soldiers. your chest stopped rising and falling, and your breathing had ceased. your family surrounded your body, trying to stop your bleeding and preserve the life that had already left your body. still, you had been shot twice, and both bullets had exit wounds. it was no use. nearby, na'vi had heard the screams of distress and had called over some hunters and scouts to investigate the scene since they knew the area was near the forbidden old shack.

the hunters and scouts arrived at the scene armed and ready to defend their people, but what they were met with was the last thing they expected to see. the eldest sully daughter was lying on the floor, motionless, with two bullet holes in her chest and her blood sinking into the forest floor. her family leaned over her body, screaming and crying for her to be okay and to return to them. they whispered how sorry they were. they whispered to her how if she came back, they would treat her right, teach her, hang out with her, and love her like they were supposed to. but it's too late.

nobody knew how to react. the eldest sully daughter had died, and nobody but her family knew what had happened.

“ma ite, oel ngati kameie. i see you. i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. you don't have to be your brother. being you was just fine." your father cried as he cradled your head. brushing your hair away from your face, getting blood on your cheek since his hands were covered in it.

neteyam and lo'ak were each holding one of your hands. they cried as they watched their tears pool in your palm and then fall off the edge to drip into the soil below your body. they couldn't believe they treated you like anything less than their sister. they treated you like you were a stranger, a burden to deal with. and now that you were gone, they could not tell you how sorry they were for how they treated you.

neytiri was inconsolable. her firstborn daughter had just died in front of her eyes. willingly. she wanted this. her own daughter wanted to take her life. and she couldn't do anything to stop it. how could she not know? how did you go 18 years hurting in silence? how did she not know you needed to be saved?

"ma ite. my baby. ma y/n." neytiri's heart shattered when she saw those bullets go through your chest. she cried over your body for what felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes until the male healers came so they could carry you to the healing tents to prepare you for your burial ritual.

as jake pulled his mate from your body, she started to push against him trying to get him to let go of her so she could return to her daughter.

eventually, jake lets go, unable to keep his mate from her child. he joined her and just asked the healers to give your family a minute with you.

they just nodded in understanding, leaving your family to grieve.

two pairs of footsteps rushed towards the clearing, where the family mourned one of their own.

kiri and tuk had heard the news and came as fast as they could. tuk screamed, running up to you and curling herself into your chest as she sobbed into your neck. she didn't care if she was getting blood all over herself. you were her older sister, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. she felt nothing but sadness and loss. tuk felt terrible because the last time she had seen you was earlier when you brought her back from the stream because she had sprained your ankle. and now you were lying on the forest floor dead? how did this happen?

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! SISTER, PLEASE!!" kiri begged you to wake up as she placed herself where her father was earlier. she rested your head in her lap, looking into your lifeless yellow eyes. you were her elder sister. as much as you didn't know, kiri looked up to you. she knew how hard you tried for the family, and though it wasn't your fault that you would mess up a necklace every once and a while, she couldn't help but feel guilty for the words she said to you in those moments. she knew she could've should've been nicer about it.

when it was finally time for the healers to take your body, once again, neytiri tried to fight against them. this time everyone in the family had to hold her back as the healer walked you away in a leaf big enough to cover your entire body from the eyes of those around you. once you were gone from her view, neytiri fell to the floor again, sobbing into the ground,

"GREAT MOTHER, WHY?!!" their mother's screams felt like a knife in their hearts. the sully family felt nothing but guilt and grief upon your death. nobody got closure because there is no closure for this kind of thing. they were the reason you wanted to die, and now that you got what you wanted, they had to live with that guilt.

you were high in being held in eywa's embrace as you cried. looking down on your family. you did not regret your decision, but you just had one question for your deity.

"did they really love me, great mother." eywa heaved a sigh before answering you.

"my ite, your mother and youngest sister loved you everyday, they were just very poor at showing it i'm afraid." you nodded your head, asking a follow-up question,

"what about the others?" you knew by her face that you wouldn't like the answer, but it was too late. the question was asked. and the answer is precisely the reason why you did what you did.

"they loved you just a little bit too late, my child."

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar wotw #avatar 2 #avatar #sully family x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x twin!reader #sully family angst #jake sully angst #neteyam angst #this is an angsty story and im not sorry ab it :)#happy valentine's day #neytiri sully #best mom neytiri #i love her #neytiri be my mom pls

7K notes · View notes

kaleldobrev · 9 months

Text

Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #Dean x you #dean x reader

1K notes · View notes

sempersirens · 9 months

Text

raising hell all over town

pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader

summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking

a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @sempersirenswrites and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)

Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.

For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.

Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.

Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.

Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.

There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.

When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.

He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.

Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.

"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.

"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."

"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.

"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.

"Babe, just say they're boring."

"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"

"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."

Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.

The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.

"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.

"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.

The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.

"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.

As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.

"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.

"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.

You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.

"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.

Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.

"I said, apologise to my friend."

"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.

"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.

Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.

"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."

The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.

"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.

"No, I think it just looks like that."

You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.

"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.

"What?!"

"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.

You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.

"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.

"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."

He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.

"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."

"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.

Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.

"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."

"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.

"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."

"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.

Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.

"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.

"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."

Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.

You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.

As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.

Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.

You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.

"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."

"Peace is overrated." You replied.

"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"

You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.

"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."

"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"

"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."

He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."

"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.

"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."

He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.

"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.

He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.

"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.

"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.

"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.

For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.

He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.

So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.

Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.

You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.

"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.

Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.

"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."

"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"

He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.

"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.

"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.

His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.

"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"

"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."

You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.

Joel swallowed hard.

"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.

"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."

He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.

"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."

You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.

“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”

Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.

He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.

"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.

Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."

"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."

Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.

"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."

You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.

"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.

Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.

"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.

The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.

"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.

"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"

You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.

"Yes, sir."

part 2 coming soon

taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel

1K notes · View notes

theharddeck · 5 months

Text

start the new year right (jake seresin x f!reader)

pairing: jake hangman seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what could be worse than a delayed flight with lost luggage? driving back to san diego with your nemesis. and what could be worse than that? the car breaking down in the middle of the night, on new years eve. and of course, the motel couldn't have a 2BR room available...

word count: 8.2k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: explicit PiV sex, oral sex (f!receiving), bc of who i am as a person overstimulation, not the BEST communication/consent, but everything is consensual! it's just implied; normally i'm better about explicitly asking and confirming

A/N: happy new year, friends! what would my year be, if not ending with me sitting down with a stanley of chamomile and writing more than i've written the whole previous month? hope this new year is gentle to y'all.

Natasha: Hey girl! Just got an alert that your transfer flight was delayed? Are you good?

You: ‘good’ as in ‘safe’, ya

You: ‘good’ as in ‘en route’, not so much. They overbooked the flight and the next one they have available is Wednesday morning

Natasha: nooooooo

You: At least my luggage is on its way to SAN… I’m considering renting a car and just making the drive from Vegas myself

Natasha: I love you and I trust you

Natasha: but an overnight drive by yourself after an already-long day is not the move

You: ugh I know, but i don’t know what else to do

Natasha: …mkay i have a solution but it’s not the one you want

You: let’s have it

Natasha: jake’s flight also rerouted through LAS

You: absolutely not

Nat: you didn’t even hear the actual plan!!

You: if it involves me and hangman, the answer is no

Natasha: it’s just a five hour drive, you can be adults/play nice with each other for five hours

You: when has Hangman ever been an adult about anything

Natasha: fair point

Natasha: but he is also currently texting me saying he’s stranded

Natasha: you know one-way car rentals are stupid expensive

Natasha: and he likes to drive so maybe you could sleep on the way

You: stop being logical

Natasha: i do not want to get a call from the nevada state police when you fall asleep behind the wheel on New Years Eve in the middle of the Mojave

You: good, add a guilt trip to the mix

Natasha: is it working

Me: …

You: it’s working

Natasha: (Ryan Gosling!Ken gif: SUBLIME!)

You: lol

You: ugh okay text me his number

Natasha: can’t believe that after 8 months stationed at the same base you don’t have his number

Natasha: mkay just sent

Natasha: you have to promise not to kill each other

Three hours later, you were really glad you hadn’t made any promises to Nat that you couldn’t keep.

Because not only had Jake insisted on renting a truck (“I need the legroom!”), and that you didn’t need to stop in Barstow for gas (“trust me, sugar, I’m an Eagle Scout–I know we can make it to east LA”), the gas-guzzling monstrosity had fizzled out somewhere between exits along the 15.

Now the hood was smoking, there was no way you were getting your security deposit back, and you were just as stranded as you’d been when you first texted Natasha from the airport.

Only now you were in the middle of the desert, and your phone was almost dead.

Four hours later, you had walked three miles back to the last exit and were checking into a truly shady motel, straight up refusing to talk to Jake because somehow, incomprehensibly, the only room available was one with one (1) king bed.

Four and a half hours later, you were dripping wet, trying not to shiver because the shower you took to warm yourself up had backfired, since the motel towels were basically handkerchiefs and your wet skin made the room seem extra cold. You hadn’t wanted to wear your airport clothes to bed, but since your luggage was already in San Diego, that left you with just a cropped tee and boyshorts.

“You okay in there?”

You glared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, since Jake was on the other side of the door.

The audacity of him.

When you’d first met Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you’d been determined to endear yourself to him.

He was a couple years older than you, and pretty close to infamous after that stunt he pulled in eastern Europe a few years ago. He was ruthless and reckless and good enough to get away with both, and you’d hoped that if you befriended him, he could teach you a thing or two during your own time at Top Gun.

And he was ridiculously beautiful, which maybe – maybe – had your admiration veering slightly into crush territory. But you’d locked that down, determined to view him platonically, and not let that get in the way of any instruction he could give.

Of course, the first words out of his mouth had been “Honey, you gotta know there’s easier ways to get your MRS degree than to become a naval aviator.”

Your crush and respect had evaporated on the North Island breeze, and it’d been downhill from there.

You had no idea why, but he had been openly antagonistic at any given moment since then — doubting your competence but disguising it as care for your safety, and tagging a misogynistic “sweetheart” at the end of every condescending sentence. You’d ignored him as much as you could, hoping he’d get that he wasn’t in Dallas anymore, and that shit didn’t fly with you, but that had only egged him on.

But now you were exhausted, cold, stranded in the middle of the desert, and practically naked to boot, and he had the gall to act like he cared if you lived or died.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said, swinging open the bathroom door and beelining for the bed, hoping you could get to it fast enough that Jake wouldn’t make a comment.

Or before your tits froze off, at least.

You didn’t look over at him as you dove under the covers, trying your hardest not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed, much less bleached.

Of course, the comforter was tucked into the foot of the bed, and you wrestled with it for a few moments before giving up, and hauling the topsheet up over your body. It was paper thin, but it was a semblance of covering, and you lay stock-still, closing your eyes and hoping sleep would magically deliver you away from this situation.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and shut again.

You could hear the sounds of Jake brushing his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste you had bought from the “concierge” in the lobby (a relic of a man who looked like he did Civil War reenactments for fun, and seemed highly amused by your outrage at the available accommodations).

You would’ve passed the time on your phone, but the last of your battery had given up the ghost while you were in the shower.

A minute or two passed, and the bathroom door opened and closed. From behind your closed eyelids, you could hear Jake shuffle over to the lightswitch, and then he stopped.

You waited.

He didn’t move.

“What do you need, Seresin?” you asked, tersely.

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes popped open, wincing at the brightness of the lights, still overhead. A quick glance down at your body made your skin heat – your tee was skin tight, and the thin topsheet did little to cover you; you crossed your arms over your chest, hiding your pebbled nipples, continuing to stare at the ceiling and avoid eye contact with Jake.

“You could turn off the lights,” you muttered.

Technically, the cold wasn’t his fault.

But it was his stubbornness that got you here, so that had to count for something.

“I was just asking–” Jake started, and you interrupted him.

“It’s the desert in December,” you snapped, “yet, for some reason, this motel has the AC on; of course I’m cold.”

As if on cue, the machine in the windowsill rumbled to life.

You closed your eyes. “Please, just turn off the light.”

The light switch flicked off, and if it were anyone else, you’d have appreciated the immediacy of the response.

But it was Jake, and he didn’t merit any kind of gratitude, so you didn’t say ‘thank you’.

Silence stretched.

You heard a rustling, and a moment later, you felt something land on your upper body. You flinched, pulling the material away from you on instinct, and identifying it by touch as Jake’s sweatshirt.

You opened your eyes, peering through the shadows of the room. The curtains were thin (you were sensing a theme here), letting in lights from outdoors, and you found Jake still standing by the door. He was digging through his backpack, clad in a white tank and boxer shorts, apparently also not wanting to wear airport clothes to sleep, but that didn’t explain why he had chucked his sweatshirt at you.

“What is this?” you asked.

He looked up, shrugged slightly, and went back to rifling through his bag. “I run warm.”

You pursed your lips. “Jake, I–”

“I had a jacket on over it at the airport, okay? Promise, it’s not dirty.”

That hadn’t been what you were going to ask, but you paused all the same.

You appreciated that he was reassuring you, and you did remember that he’d been in a jean jacket at the airport. You’d noticed it against your better judgment, thinking he looked like an A-List actor as he walked through the airport towards you, all broad shoulders and smiles, like you were friends.

“Can I have a pillow?” His question interrupted your recollection, and you frowned in his direction.

You were clearly on half of the bed, Jake could see which pillows were for him to use. Did he expect you not to have one?

You pointed to the pillow you weren’t using, confused, and he laughed quietly.

It wasn’t a sound you heard much from him.

Normally Jake laughed like he was proud of himself, reclining in the golden light of the world around him, blessing you all with his presence. This was a different sound, less pretentious, somehow warmer.

“Yes, I can see it,” he said, his voice still amused. “But I need it over here, for the couch.”

You blinked.

The couch was maybe three feet long, an atrociously patterned aberration that you’d tossed your carryon onto, and not looked twice at. Jake didn’t explain anything further, but there were still only two pillows on the bed, and you couldn’t understand why he seemed to think you didn’t need more context for why he wanted to decorate the couch with one of them.

“Why?” you asked.

Again, that quiet chuckle.

“Because, sweetheart,” he said, and you bristled on instinct, “that’s where I’m sleeping.”

You couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Jake said, stubbornly.

“That was never up for debate,” you snorted. “Jake, we’re adults. We can share the bed. You’re not going to fit on the couch.”

“I’m an Eagle Scout,” he grumbled. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, loyal, brave, clean, etc, I’m sure,” you said. “But I’m not sure how helpful you’re going to be tomorrow, when you can’t drive that monstrosity of a truck due to your back spasming from being rolled up on that couch all night.”

You watched through the shadows as Jake stubbornly tried to wedge himself sideways on the couch. Sure enough, his knees were practically bent up to his navel, and even through the darkness, you could see the furrow in his brow.

“You could drive it,” he said, too obstinate to accept defeat.

“I will not,” you returned, “drive a vehicle that ostentatious.”

“Says the pilot,” he grumbled.

“Naval aviator,” you shot back. “Jake, it’s an enormous bed. Get over yourself, get into it, and the sooner you settle, the sooner it’ll be morning, and we can leave.”

He deliberated, the mulish man.

But eventually he pushed himself off the couch, clambering across the room. The bed dipped as he slid into it, and reached down for the comforter, still wedged into the bottom of the bed. You tried not to be annoyed when he yanked it free easily. It was probably just momentum, or that you’d loosened it up for him. While he was rearranging the comforter, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, and tried to be calm about the situation.

His sweatshirt was somehow still warm.

It smelled amazing, like cedar and fancy cologne.

And also sweat, which you tried damn hard to ignore.

It was cozy, and you snuggled into it, and a moment later, Jake settled. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that you didn’t have to touch each other, but that didn’t mean you could ignore that he was there.

In bed.

With you.

You snorted, thinking how much of a dream this would’ve been to you eight months ago, before you met Jake, and he dashed your crush to pieces.

“What?” Jake grumbled, and maybe it was the proximity, or maybe exhaustion from the day was setting in, because his voice sounded almost gentle.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “G’night.”

“Night,” Jake said.

You rolled onto your side, pulling your feet up under you, and folding your hands under your face, so you didn’t have to touch your skin to the pillow. Of course, that brought the sleeve of the sweatshirt to just under your face, and you were surrounded by the delicious smell of it again.

It distracted you for a moment.

Just a moment.

Then you had to acknowledge that, even with the sweatshirt and the newly-added comforter, your wet hair was no match for the chill of the room. Your legs felt exposed and the sheets felt like they were damp and wet, and you tried your best to ignore it, but soon you were shivering.

You tried to be still, you did.

But when you heard the bed shift as Jake turned towards you, you winced into the darkness, unsurprised.

“Sweetheart…” he started, and you shook your head, refusing to look back over at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to fall asleep.”

Jake let that statement hang for a moment, just long enough for your shivering to start up again. He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded nervous, “I meant what I said earlier. About running warm.”

This time, you did turn over, trying to read his expression in the shadowy darkness. He looked…open. Like he really was altruistically suggesting sharing body warmth, nothing malicious and none of his normal teasing.

You were suspicious, but not enough so that you could ignore that it was a better idea than freezing yourself to sleep.

“You sure?” you asked, and Jake grunted, which you figured was as good a response as any. Actually, it was pretty damn good, because if he sounded eager, you’d be creeped out, and if he was uncertain, you’d feel guilty. But being matter-of-fact about it gave you the courage to scoot across the bed.

“How do we do this?” you asked, and Jake reached for you. It was an easy movement, natural, enough so that it surprised you when he hesitated before touching you.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping you sounded half as unaffected as he did. This was fine, this was normal. Just a guy who was SO obnoxious that it made you forget how hot he was, suddenly not being obnoxious, and basically punching you in the face with his hotness.

His hand settled on the small of your back and damn it, he was warm. His touch was soft, gentle, almost nervous, and he pulled you closer to him. You realized you’d expected him to turn you over, press your back to his front so that you’d be spooned, but instead he just wrapped you in his arms. He reached around you to tuck the comforter between you and the mattress, insulating you with his warmth.

Your head was in his chest, and with his arms bracketed around you, your breath heated up the space between his tank and your face. He’d even managed to slot his arm under your head, so your face still wasn’t on the pillow.

Cuddling with someone new was usually awkward, a tangle of limbs and expectations, but with Jake, it wasn’t. It was…damn it. It was pretty close to perfect.

“Good?” he asked, and he sounded different, with your cheek on his bicep, and your nose practically pressed against his chest. It was like you could feel his voice, rumbling around you, somehow more comforting for the proximity.

You nodded, not wanting to hear anything new on your voice if you tried to respond.

Jake hummed.

A moment later, you realized his thumb was moving. Nothing major, just a small movement between your shoulder blades, a reassuring stroke. It was a comforting motion, gentle, and it wasn’t long before his warmth and his touch lulled you into a sweet sleep.

You startled awake to the sound of guns.

Not guns, fireworks.

Damn it, it was New Year’s Eve; how had you forgotten?

Jake stirred too, a deep breath expanding his chest, and leading you to realize his head was resting on top of yours, his chin tucked on top of the crown on your head.

“Is that–” he mumbled and how dare he, honestly, how very dare he, because he sounded great. Fuck him, for that, frankly.

The situation washed over you, half asleep and fully cognizant of how random it was. You didn’t mean to start, but soon you were laughing, your shoulders shaking.

“You okay?” Jake asked, a thread of concern in his voice, and that didn’t help any.

“Just the universe’s sense of humor,” you said.

You didn’t know how, but you knew he was confused and you should’ve been worried about how you knew that, how you weren’t cold at all, how if you looked up, you’d know what a sleep-mussed Jake Seresin looked like, but all you could think was that this was so, so stupid.

You took a long breath, starting to explain.

“I just can’t believe this is how I’m starting the next year of my life,” you laughed. “Like, I’m fine, right? I’m doing alright on a career path I love, I call San Diego home, I have great friends and I’m doing as good with my family as anyone could be. And where am I on New Year’s? Stranded in a motel off an exit that’s literally not even town, cold enough that a guy who hates me is cuddling me so I can be still enough for him to go to sleep, with a dead phone so none of my friends or family can wish me a happy new year, and I–”

“Wait,” Jake pulled back, and you frowned at the interruption, “why do you think I hate you?”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jake said, having the gall to look confused.

“Jake,” you said, disbelieving. “You’re literally constantly a jackass to me. You’re constantly undermining me, doubting or heckling. You throw in a – frankly overwhelming – amount of southern charm and expect that to distract from the fact that you’re being outrageously patronizing and—”

Jake kissed you.

You weren’t expecting it, and it was so sudden that it thoroughly cut off your train of thought. All you could do was comprehend fleeting sensations and emotions. Jake’s lips were soft, the pressure of them light and teasing against yours. His arms tightened around you, like he was steadying both of you. In the same way you’d sensed his confusion, now you sensed his apprehension, and an unfamiliar determination.

Just as quickly, he pulled back.

“I don’t–” his voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Christ, I don’t hate you.”

You licked your lips, annoyed that they had the audacity to tingle in response to him.

You wanted to ask what the hell that was.

You wanted to ask why he was looking at you like that.

You wanted to ask what that expression meant but more than anything, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Your arms were curled up between the two of you, and it took so little effort to curl your fingers in the front of his tank and pull him to you. His mouth was on yours a breath later, and his hand was on your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you properly.

Of course he was a good kisser.

Fucking of course he was, he had to be, but it was one thing to know it in an agnostic kind of way, and another to feel his lips pressing into yours. You shivered when his tongue swept over your bottom lip and when you mirrored the motion, something in his chest rumbled, and Jake parted his lips for you.

He tasted faintly of toothpaste, and he had some kind of chapstick on his lips that was sweet, and you couldn’t get enough of him. His arms were still around you and he was so warm, so broad, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. When your arms wound around his neck, Jake broke away from you. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, and his hands fell from your back to your waist, as if holding you in place. He turned his head slightly, kissing lazily at the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, to your jawline.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he murmured against your skin, and this time when you shivered, you knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“You still haven’t told me,” you managed, eyelashes fluttering at the teasing brush of his lips, while you tried to look at him.

To your astonishment and delight, Hangman blushed.

Sheepish wasn’t an expression you were used to on him, not unlike bashful, but you thought it suited him. He looked like he was gearing up to say something and, curious though you were, you didn’t want to get into that right now. It was late, you were still exhausted, and just a few moments ago, you’d thought he hated you.

If his expression now was any indication, you and Jake had very different conceptions of flirting.

“Look,” you said, before he could say whatever he was hyping himself up to say, “this is probably a lot more complicated than either of us were prepared for. So, it’s the New Year…we could start it how we want the year to go.”

Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he smiled softly, a sweet expression on his face. He turned his head to kiss the palm of the hand you had looped around his neck.

“Cuddling,” he said, at the same time you announced,

“Orgasms.”

You would never forget the expression on his face.

Sweetness morphed into amazement, and then quickly into hunger.

“I can pivot,” he said quickly, and you lifted your chin.

“You sure?” you teased, “Don’t want to strongarm you into–”

Your sentence ended with a squeal when Jake turned quickly, flopping onto his back, and pulling you on top of him. Your knee was between his thighs and you couldn’t hold back your grin as you looked down at him. Just like with this kiss, he was letting you lead, but being so clear about what he wanted.

And who were you, to decline?

Kissing him from on top of him felt different, felt amazing.

You could appreciate how sturdy he was, and when you relaxed slightly, you found yourself straddling his thigh. You’d been a part of plenty of dogfight football scrimmages, and Jake was never one for longer board shorts; you knew exactly how strong his thighs were. But it was one thing to see them on display, and quite another to feel them flexing between your legs.

One of Jake’s hands was inching under his sweatshirt that you wore, warm fingers spreading across your stomach as you moved over him.

God, he felt so good, so few layers between his skin and your core, and the pressure of his thigh between your legs was so good. You kissed him again, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, as you ground against his leg.

When you moved, you felt the hem of his boxers slide against your leg, and sue a girl, you were curious. You shifted slightly, moving your thigh higher, and when you rocked your hips, your thigh brushed against his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake gritted as you moved against him, and you thought maybe you didn’t mind the petname, when he sounded like that.

You braced yourself on the pillow behind him and moved again.

It shouldn’t be this hot.

But it was, he was, and you felt pleasure spooling through you, just from his leg between yours, and his gentle touch against your skin. How he reacted to you, how he moved under you, it was so good, like a promise.

“Not gonna lie,” Jake said, his voice still rough, “I really like you in my sweatshirt.”

Your mouth fell open when he pushed his hips up to meet you.

You both stifled a gasp at the motion, the sensation with so few layers between the two of you. Jake’s hands crept higher under your sweatshirt, almost tentative, and you leaned into his touch, encouraging. His hands cupped your breasts, and your head dipped to the side in relief. He made a sound of satisfaction, just enjoying their weight in his hand, then his wrists moved so his thumbs could brush over your nipples. He rolled them, and you felt it in your core, your thighs clenching.

“Love you in my sweatshirt,” Jake repeated, sounding dazed, “but I wanna to see you without it.”

You leaned back immediately, pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

You missed the warmth of it immediately, but Jake’s gaze was worth it. His expression bordered on reverence, and he actually licked his lips, looking up at you. You wiggled on his thigh, heat pulsing, needing something from him, your skin prickling under his gaze.

Jake frowned, the lust in his eyes overtaken by concern. “Too cold?”

You certainly weren’t toasty, but you couldn’t say you cared.

“I would’ve thought you’d have a solution to keep me warm,” you teased, and Jake seemed to accept the challenge.

The hands that had been on your breasts dropped to the back of your thighs, and a moment later he had pushed you back. You were on your back, feet in the air, and Jake turned you gently on the bed so you were resting on the pillows again. You settled in, expecting him to lower himself between your thighs, and were surprised when instead he reached back for the comforter.

Maybe you had misunderstood, he didn’t actually want…

He pulled the comforter over his head, over your shoulders, and you blinked disbelieving at a Jake-shaped figure under the blanket, moving to the base of the bed, between your legs.

You were fairly confident, but that was a lot to ask from someone on a first date, and this wasn’t even that, and you ducked under the comforter as well.

“Jake, you don’t have to–” you protested, realizing belatedly that there was nowhere near enough light to be able to make meaningful eye contact.

“You said orgasms, right?” Jake said, his voice full of a familiar smugness.

He settled at the base of the bed, crouching, and through the darkness, you could tell he was looking in your direction. His hands were intentional on your legs, letting you know where he was, giving you time to tell him if you weren’t okay with something.

If he was offering, you were beyond okay with this.

“Right,” you said weakly.

His hands trailed up your thigh, his warm touch light, and his fingers closed over the band over your boyshorts. You nodded, a sound he heard because your head rubbed against the comforter.

He kissed your thigh.

It was a feather light touch, a brush of his mouth against the sensitive skin, but it was so gentle that it reassured you. He kissed your other thigh, then higher, and one of his hands felt up to your stomach, and he pushed, an unsubtle prompt. You lay back against the mattress, nerves and desire warring within you as Jake kissed higher.

You felt a brush of his tongue when he reached the edge of your underwear and your breath caught.

“Plural?” Jake asked, and it took you a minute to understand his question.

His fingers pulled at the edge of your boyshorts, peeling them slowly down, his mouth pressing gentle kisses as he revealed more of your body. He was exploring by touch what he couldn’t see, so slow and perfect it was overwhelming.

“There’s two of us,” you managed, back to his question. “Hence plural.”

Jake laughed, a soft exhale against your skin. He’d bared you to him, and you shifted, like you were seeking his touch.

“I know this is new for us, sweetheart,” he mumbled, a kiss to your hipbone, then the opposite, “but that’s not how this is going to work.”

You bit your lip, nervous again.

You were new to this with him, and some guys thought oral sex was some kind of prerequisite – check the box, half ass it for thirty seconds, guarantee she’ll let you hit it – but something told you Jake would be different.

You were panting, anticipation making you breathless.

You whispered his name and it was like he was waiting for permission, because he leaned into you. His first kiss against your pussy was gentle, just as sweet as those kisses he’d trailed up your thighs. It was so sweet it made you squirm, and Jake chuckled, a sound you felt as his breath ghosted over you. He pulled back long enough to draw an audible breath, then his tongue licked over the whole of your cunt, a long, torturous swipe that had you trembling.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, muffled, and your hips bucked. “You’re already wet for me.”

You reached under the comforter, your hands tangling in his hair and Jake hummed his approval before following your prompting back to your pussy. He lapped at you, learning you, and when he trailed up to circle your clit with it, you couldn’t stop the cry that escaped you.

“That right, honey?” he asked, sounding smug, and he circled your clit with his tongue. You felt a hand slip from your hip to your entrance, rubbing over you as his tongue played with your clit. He kissed you, teased you, and when he pushed a thick finger into you while his lips closed over your clit, you moaned.

“Feels so good, Jake,” you cried, and you felt him shudder at your voice.

You heard it too, how wrecked you sounded, and it was his fault. Your hips were pushing up into him, chasing the suction of his mouth, the pull of his fingers. He was only a knuckle or so into you, but his finger was so wide, thicker than your own, and you moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion.

It was Jake between your legs, Jake’s wicked smile, sharp tongue, capable hands, Jake who was working you with his fingers and mouth. He felt so good, and your body felt like it was humming to a frequency he set.

You trembled as he sheathed a finger in you, you moaned when he sucked your clit, and when his teeth brushed over your clit, the pleasure coursing through you snapped. Your fingers in his hair tightened, and Jake groaned when you pressed your pussy harder against his face. He groaned like he wanted it, like he craved that reaction, and you came hard.

He coaxed you through it, gentle and steady as he’d been so far, and as you came down, you pulled slightly at his hair.

“Jake, that was–” you gasped, and you felt him laugh again.

“Honey, what part of ‘plural’ is so hard for you to understand?” he asked.

And he pushed another finger into you.

Your back bowed off the mattress; you were so sensitive and it made everything Jake did to you feel so much more.

His mouth traveled down to where his fingers were pressing into you, and he curled them into you. You heard an obscene slurping sound, and your eyes rolled back as you realized he was pulling your release out of you, tasting it from his own fingers.

“Like honey from a honeycomb,” Jake mumbled, his voice thick, and you whimpered at how he sounded.

A moment later, his lips closed over your clit again, and your head thrashed against the pillow.

“Jake, I just–” you panted, but he sucked again and you broke off on a moan. “I can’t, I just – fuck, give me a second– oh, that feels so good.”

Jake either didn’t hear you or he wasn’t listening.

He was following your body, the way your hips were pushing up into him, the way your cunt was clenching down on his fingers, and it was like he was drunk on the taste of you. He suckled on your clit, his tongue laving over you, stoking you higher again. He felt so good, and you were sure you were telling him, but you were fast losing confidence in your ability to form words.

You lost track of time, there was just pleasure, and the heat from Jake, and the way he was working your body.

“You gonna come for me again?” Jake coaxed, pulling back to blow a long stream of cool air over your clit. You flinched, you writhed, you would do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. “I think you can do it, honey, it was so pretty the first time. This pussy is so good, doing such a beautiful job coming for me, tasting delicious and I bet you can do it again…”

Your legs felt limp as he licked over you again, tasting where his fingers fed into you, pumping them and pulling pleasure out of you. His tongue flicked over your clit, a maddening pattern, and when his lips closed, he sucked hard. It was so strong, so unreal, and you shook as you came again.

“Ah, there it is…That’s so good, sweetheart,” Jake soothed, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your pussy, and you certainly didn’t know which was hotter.

He continued to stroke inside of you, his thick fingers pulling you through your orgasm, keeping you grounded, keeping your pleasure coming.

You weren’t cold anymore.

In fact, you were burning up, and Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. The moment he felt coherency return to your posture, he dove back in. You genuinely didn’t think you could stand another orgasm from his mouth, and you let go of his hair – he wasn’t listening to you anyways – and flipped back the comforter.

God damn, he was so hot.

He looked up from between your thighs, the lower half of his face smeared with your arousal, and he fucking licked his lips, before smiling up at you. His hair was in complete disarray, and you could tell his whole upper body was flushed from overheating, and he looked so smug, so proud, and he had every right to be.

“C’mere,” you asked, and it was enough.

Grinning, Jake crawled up the bed, caging you with his arms again.

He hesitated, unsure what you were okay with, but you kissed him hungrily. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you felt a sort of possessive pride that it’d chased away the cloying sweetness of his chapstick.

Right now, Jake tasted like yours, and you were obsessed.

When he realized he could, Jake returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Your hands smoothed over his back, curling in the hem of his tank and pulling it over his shoulders. Jake wouldn’t separate from your lips to let you pull it over his head and you giggled as he kissed you through it, like an infinity scarf. You felt up his back, hands delighting in the contours of muscles that you’d only admired from a distance, before you caught yourself.

He was so strong.

Warm and toned and big, intoxicating to think of him over you. Finally, he ducked his head to chuck off the shirt, and the motion lowered his hips to yours. You both groaned at the brush of his cock between your thighs, and then Jake was kissing you with fresh urgency. You hadn’t seen him yet, though he’d had his face in your pussy, and you reached between the two of you.

You felt him over his boxers, and Jake broke off the kiss at your touch, his head dropping to your shoulder. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, and his hips pushed into your touch. You explored the shape of him through the thin cotton, your own hips rocking into him on instinct.

Fuck, he felt big.

You felt a small bit of wetness near the fat head of him, and you moaned as your thumb rolled over the leaking precum, rubbing his sensitive head.

“I have a – shit,” Jake broke off, his hips rutting into your touch, and your head fell back. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, and it would’ve been more effective if you didn’t sound so needy about it.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his cheek, then scooted out of the bed.

The room felt freezing outside of the bed, but it was refreshing, as you darted over to his backpack. You found his wallet, and the condom inside it, and when you got back to the bed, Jake had only moved to push himself up. He was kneeling in the middle of the bed, and he shifted as he pulled off his boxers.

“Holy shit, Seresin,” you whispered, not even caring that your voice sounded reverent.

His cock was beautiful, thick between his thighs, bouncing parallel to the bed. Jake gripped the base of it loosely, like he had to do something while he watched you watching him, and you crawled back to the bed, still staring, kneeling so your knees almost touched his.

“Can I?” you asked, holding up the condom. “Please, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice so gruff and gorgeous. You licked your lips and ripped the foil, but hesitated before you pulled it out.

“I’m clean,” you told him, sitting back on your thighs. “Um, we should still use this, but I just wanted you to know.”

Jake caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. He kissed you quickly, short and sweet, and there was something unexpected in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Me too, sugar,” he said, his voice deep. “Thank you.”

You couldn't be sure what he was thanking you for, but you felt like you should be thanking him. For making sure you felt good, for thinking of a condom, for making you feel so cared for. So you tilted your head, reached between you to where he was loosely fisting himself, and replaced his hand with yours.

You pulled your hand loosely over him, obsessed with the warm feel of him, how thick he was in your hand, how heavy. Jake’s hands hovered like he wasn’t sure where you put them, and they settled on your upper arms, like he needed you to keep his balance.

It didn’t stop you from leaning down and guiding his tip towards your mouth.

Jake groaned, a beautiful, strangled sound, and it was lost to you when you first tasted him.

This wasn’t the proper angle for a proper blow job, and you wanted to feel him, but you were curious, and your tongue lapped at him. His skin was scalding hot, and a pearl of precum beaded at the end of his cock, like an invitation. You licked it into your mouth, moaning at the salty, rich taste of him.

Jake’s hand fell to the back of your head, not pushing, but like he needed to steady himself. You licked over him, acquainting yourself with him, learning the veins and sensitive spots, knowing you’d want to come back to them later. Too soon, Jake’s hand tightened in your hair.

You looked up at him, hoping he’d like the picture of you from this angle. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered shut, if that was any indication.

“Need to be inside you,” he ground out, and opened his eyes. “That mouth is so sweet, honey, gonna make this be over too soon. I want to feel that pussy.”

God, you wanted that too.

You pushed yourself back up, pulled the condom out, and rolled it over his thick length. His thighs were shaking, you noticed, and it filled you with something like tenderness. That he’d get you there twice, then let you play with him, then say “please”, like fucking you was a privilege.

When your hand reached the base of his dick, condom secured, he surged forward to kiss you. You swayed on the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, his hands cupping your face, yours on his waist. Both pulling, both needing to be closer, and when Jake lowered you back down, you followed his prompting eagerly.

He settled you back against the pillows, back how you’d been when he’d driven you to the stars with his tongue, but this time his handsome face was right over you. When he settled over you, you closed your eyes against the intensity of the moment. You were both fully naked, and it felt so heavenly to have so much of his skin pressed against yours. He was warm, strong, all around you, and you needed him in you too.

You spread your legs, letting him rest deeper between your thighs, and whimpering when his hot cock brushed against your stomach, then down.

“Don’t know how slow I can take this,” Jake said, like he expected you to have a problem with that.

“I want to feel you,” you told him, honestly. “Please.”

Jake kissed you again, pulling back to press his forehead to yours as he guided his dick between your thighs.

You’d had two orgasms.

You’d had his fingers and his tongue loosen you, you were plenty lubricated, but when Jake’s cock pressed against your entrance, you realized it hadn’t been enough.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you gasped, as his fat head pressed against your pussy, waiting for resistance to melt.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can do it…You’re doing so good, just a little bit of give, come on…”

You whimpered at the new endearment, but there was no way. You felt needy, cloying. You could fit him, you knew it, but it felt—there.

He eased in, just a breath, and you felt like sobbing. It was so good, so overwhelming, so fucking tight, and you needed the rest of him.

“Jesus, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake said, he sounded choked, and you loved it.

“More,” you whimpered. “Please, Jake, want to feel you…you’re so big, I need more, please, please.”

“Honey, you can’t say things like that–” Jake gritted, your words driving his hips forward.

You could tell he was trying to go slow, but the feeling of him forcing his cock into you had your legs shaking. You wanted it, needed it, and if begging was the way to get it, begging you could do.

“Want to feel your thick cock, Jake,” you whispered, and he shivered. He was bracing himself against the headboard, and you could feel his arms shaking as he fought to keep from driving into you. “You feel so good, need to feel you so deep…want to come on your cock, please, Jake…come on and fuck me.”

He groaned like he was in pain, as he pressed deeper into you.

He was trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, but you wanted to be mindless, you wanted your whole being centered around the deep push of his cock. You wiggled your hips, and sighed as he sunk deeper.

“Thank you,” you breathed, and his hips punched forward again.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you would’ve laughed, but you were too overwhelmed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you knew he could give you. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to your breasts, squeezing and massaging your breasts as he sank into you. You turned your head to look up at him, and found him staring, slack jawed, down at you in awe.

“You make me feel so good,” you coaxed him. “Please, Jake…fuck me.”

Jake growled, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and his hand fell between you to brush over your clit.

You jolted at his touch, your hips opening impossibly wider, and a hotter, stronger arousal racing through you than the steady, heavy press of him. Your hips bucked up, and you tweaked your nipples, working yourself up onto his cock rather than pressing him into you. It took a couple more burning minutes, and you were both coated in sweat by the time he was seated in you.

“Baby…” Jake breathed, his voice a dream and you had to resist the urge to purr. He was so warm, all around you, inside you, it felt like he was grounding you.

Then he moved.

His first pump had your back arching, your knees jolting up, your eyes flying open. Fuck, how did he reach that part of you, how was there room, how were you–

Jake laughed, a deep, dark sound.

“That's what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, and he moved again. You cried out, overwhelmed, perfect.

“This what you were begging for?” Jake grunted, between strokes, “This what you were asking so prettily for, and now you have me, and what’s that, baby, can’t find your words? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, not a damn thing, but you couldn’t summon the wherewithal to tell him. All you felt was pleasure, pounding and sweeping, full and as good as eternal.

“This pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart,” Jake swore, his head lowering to kiss down your neck. He sucked at the skin there savagely, needing a distraction, and you clenched around him, when his lips closed over your pulse point. “Pulling me in, so tight and warm. You look so good around my cock, honey, you wouldn’t believe… Like a dream, like a fucking wet dream, but you’re here, stretched around me, taking me so good…”

You moaned as he found a rhythm.

The headboard was banging against the wall with the strength of his thrusts, and he pounded into you. There was so much he hadn’t said, so much he couldn’t say, but he pushed it into your body, swore it to you. He soothed it over your clit with his thumb, he promised it with his thick, heavy cock inside of you, and you felt yourself falling into it.

“Please, Jake,” you managed, begging again. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than take the harsh fucking he was giving you, and craving it, needing it.

“What’d’ya need, honey,” Jake groaned. “You have me here, so fucking deep, never felt this good, this right—what do you need, baby, tell me, whatever you need.”

Had the room been dark? Surely it’d always been bright light, sparking, blinding.

Pleasure was rolling over you, suffocating, live-giving and you shook your head, moaning with every thrust of Jake’s hips. The only words you could manage were his name, and please, and it seemed to spur Jake on further. His thumb pressed hard into your clit as his hips sped up, and you felt the wave inside you cresting.

“You’re close, honey, I can feel it, can feel how hard this cunt wants to come. Are you gonna do it, baby? Milk this cock, make it even tighter around me, want to feel that, need to feel your pussy twitching around me, sugar, please come…”

Your orgasm shattered over you, blinding and perfect. Your throat felt hoarse from your moans, or your breathlessness, but everything heightened. You felt like you were breathing with Jake, felt every hitch and gasp and shudder as he coaxed you through it. You felt like you were suspended in space, like the only thing there was was Jake’s arms around you and his cock within you and you needed, you needed, him to come.

“Come in me, baby,” you whispered, your voice watery. “Need to feel you, want to feel how you’d fuck me to fill me, please, Jake, it’ll feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Jake shouted hoarsely, his hips thrusting harshly into you. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel too good, you’re so tight around me… I need to come, need to feel– fuck –”

You could feel his thighs shaking, his back tensing, and you turned your head to kiss him as he came. He moaned into your mouth, his whole body jerking as he emptied into the condom. You felt how strong he came, felt how thoroughly it worked through him, and it filled you with pride and satisfaction as he collapsed over you.

You knew he meant to push himself to your side, but you didn’t let him go.

You were just as boneless.

You both lay there, a sticky, sweaty, mess, panting. It was like a dream, a daydream crossed with a fantasy. You were warm, comforted, sated, and the room was still cheap, the motel was still sketchy, but you were suddenly quite alright with this start to the year.

tag list: @cheekymcgrath @laracrofted @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @hangmanssunnies @callsignspark @lewmagoo @mxgyver @sebsxphia @daggerspare-standingby @ryebecca @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanbrainrot @sometimesanalice @wildbornsiren @whoeverineedtobe @clancycucumber230 @javihoney and i think a couple folks have changed their URLS, so please let me know if you still want to be tagged!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #misskielwrites

732 notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Gif by the amazing @pedropascalsx

September Part 2

Firefly Hospital, 2024

summary: Twenty years ago, Joel Miller was the love of your life. On the day of the Outbreak, you’d gotten separated and never saw him again—imagine your surprise when you find out the smuggler Marlene hired to bring the immune girl to your research hospital is none other than the man you thought you’d lost forever.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader (reader is a doctor with no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (10 years), oral sex (f receiving), face-sitting, vaginal fingering, coming untouched, dirty talk, praise kink, canon-typical violence, minor character death, slight angst, emotions, love confessions, mentions of PTSD, handwavey medical jargon (went to google medical school for this one), Ellie being a cockblock, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU finale speculation, TLOU tv spoilers, TLOU game spoilers)

word count: 16.6k+

a/n: This goes over reader and Joel’s reunion after twenty years of being apart. It is dramatic and a fun ride. I’m playing fast and loose with game canon to speculate how the show finale will go, and this chapter follows a bit of how it goes in the game, with me taking some liberties. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing and being by my side.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

20 Years After the Outbreak

He can’t fucking believe it.

He’s at a loss.

Months Joel spent with this little girl, bringing her across the country, keeping her safe, protecting her with his life—fucking Tess lost hers getting Ellie to the Fireflies, and they’re just going to kill her in order to reverse-engineer a vaccine? She was a lamb to the slaughter. He’d inadvertently brought her to her death.

Anger is threading in his belly, pissed off over everything he went through, feeling like it was all for nothing, not if she’s going to die.

They’re in a hospital that’s being used by the Fireflies to try and find a cure, Ellie taken from him, Joel kneeling on a hospital room floor after an armed guard had hit him, listening to Marlene talk about how this was harder for her due to her history with the girl.

Joel rolls his eyes because if she actually gave a shit about Ellie, she wouldn’t let this happen.

There has to be another way.

He has to find Ellie.

He almost lost her getting here, and he isn’t going to just step back and let her die, the world be damned, he can’t lose another person he cares about, not if he can help it. He’ll do everything in his power to find her and get her the fuck out of here—she’s too important to him.

Marlene’s in front of him, the guard at her side.

“This isn’t about me, her, or you,” she tells him. “There is no other choice here—my hands are tied.”

He scoffs, moving to sit on his ass and resting his arms on his knees, glaring at her. “Yeah,” he sneers, “you keep tellin’ yourself that bullshit if it helps you sleep at night.”

She sighs, shaking her head.

“March him out of here,” she orders the guard. “He tries anything. Shoot him. Don’t ruin this, Joel.” She turns on her heel, opens the room door, and leaves, Joel’s mind racing with what he can do. He’s sized up the other man, knowing he can take him, the only disadvantage being that Joel didn’t have any weapons, and he did.

“Get up,” the Firefly says.

Joel doesn’t bother moving, working out in his brain his next steps. He needs to get his hands on a gun, thankful they hadn’t handcuffed him, which would give him the opportunity to disarm the guard.

Get a weapon, find Ellie

His mind chants.

It was evident that she wasn't safe as long as these people were alive, so he’d take out anyone who got in his way.

“I said get up.” The other man raises his handgun, pointing it at Joel.

He sighs, groaning as he rises, rage pulsing in his veins, his jaw clenching, hands in tight fists wanting to hit this bastard.

Marlene left the door open, the Firefly’s back to it, his attention focused on Joel, not realizing someone had slipped inside quietly behind him. Joel watches as the smaller person claps a hand over the man’s mouth, their other hand slicing open his throat with what he thought might be a scalpel. The guard gurgles as he falls forward, the gun clattering to the ground, grabbing at his neck to try and stop the bleeding, to no avail, falling to the floor in a growing pool of blood.

Joel’s confused, his eyes a little wider, taking in his unexpected savior.

From the scrubs she’s wearing and the scalpel, he thinks she’s some kind of doctor. Her hair is hidden under a surgical cap, her face obscured with a mask covering half of it as if she’d left in the middle of an operation.

She’s bending down and picking up the gun, tossing it to him when she straightens, Joel catching it easily.

“Who are you?” he asks.

There’s something familiar about her eyes, but he can’t place who she is, not sure who the fuck he knew who’d be all the way out here and willing to risk their life for him, his brain coming up with no one.

For one hopeful second, even though he knows it’s fucking impossible, he thinks it’s Tess until the woman speaks, her muffled voice dashing his hopes, “No time to chat,” she says. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline, all of the confusion and disappointment being replaced with hope once more.

“You know where she is?” he asks.

“Yes,” she answers, nodding. “Follow me. Your stuff is down this hall.” She points behind her. She’d discarded the scalpel, pulling a handgun from the back of her pants. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Leaving without another word, Joel is hot on her heels. Questions could wait until Ellie was safe, keeping his guard up and on alert, fingers itching to kill these assholes. Down the hallway, she shows him where his things are on a counter, him quickly putting on his backpack, their weapons drawn as they start moving, him covering her back.

“We’re turning up here,” she whispers. “Two guards—need to get to the stairwell.”

“Copy that.”

Eerie calmness washes over him, his brain working to figure out their next moves. She stops at the corner, glancing around it. Her head turns toward him, nodding, then she steps out, two shots ringing out. Joel sees the Fireflies crumpling to the ground as he follows.

“Clear,” she says, stuffing her gun into her pants as she goes to one of the bodies to take their semi-automatic rifle. Joel does the same, impressed with the clean headshots.

“Who are you?” he asks again, taking up point behind her again with the bigger gun.

“We’ll worry about that later, Joel,” she answers, already on the move.

“How’d you know my name?”

“Ellie,” she replies. “But I’d never forget Joel Miller.”

Does she know him? Does he know her? His eyes had trailed over her body for any kind of clue, but he came up empty.

“What’s your name?”

“That’s not important,” she says. They’re approaching the stairwell. “Ellie’s on the top floor, far end. The place will be littered with guards. They won’t hesitate to kill you, so show no mercy.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he grits out. “Would burn this fuckin’ place to the ground if I could.”

“I’ll bring the gasoline. You light the match. Deal?”

Joel huffs out an amused breath. He may not have any idea who this woman is who’s helping him, but she’s competent, knows what needs to be done, and is funny.

He kinda likes her, whoever she is.

They don’t speak as they hurry up the stairs, and once they’ve exited, she jams a chair into the door to lock it.

She was right about the place being littered with Fireflies.

They move as a unit, in sync, somehow knowing what the other would do without speaking, taking out anyone who got in their way swiftly and efficiently. Rage fueled him, and she led him, knowing where to take cover, tossing each other more ammunition divested from those they’d gunned down. The guards had no idea what hit them, hearing screams and frantically calling for reinforcements over their radios, wondering out loud who was killing them.

It’s a bloodbath, a fucking massacre. Joel and this woman are ruthless in their endeavor to get to Ellie.

Blood is spattered on their clothes and skin, sweat clinging to their bodies, breathing hard when they enter a door and see where the operating room is. Joel barricades the door they’d come through with medical equipment to buy them time, his knees aching and back sore, heart racing a mile a minute.

“There will be a nurse and a doctor,” she whispers. “I should’ve been in there, too.”

He grunts in response, taking off his backpack to strap the rifle to it, putting it back on, and grabbing the handgun from his waist.

He’s hoping and praying they’ll make it in time, not sure what he’ll do if they don’t, the trek to the room feeling like it takes forever.

She pushes through the door first, him stepping in after her training his gun on the surgeon about to operate.

“Get away from her!” Joel angrily demands, his teeth bared, ready to shoot.

“What are you doing here?” the surgeon asks, moving to stand between them and Ellie, holding up a scalpel in defense. “You brought him here?” The question was directed at the mystery woman.

“Yes,” she answers, her gun locked on him. “We’re not letting you kill her.”

“She’s our future! You can’t take her! This is the only way to save lives!”

“It’s not!” she shouts, Joel hearing her anger.

“You’ll pay for this—don’t come any closer,” the surgeon threatens, swinging the scalpel around.

There’s no hesitation when she pulls the trigger, the man falling to the ground as the nurse screams, Joel seeing her reaching on a surgical tray for something sharp, his shot stopping her.

The room is cleared, his focus moving to Ellie.

“Sweet Jesus,” he murmurs, his gun going back into his waistband, not wasting another second to get to the girl, her in a surgical gown and oxygen mask, hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed.

“Come on, baby girl,” he says, carefully removing the mask. The woman had shouldered her rifle, moving to the other side of the table to carefully take care of the IV and bandage Ellie’s hand. “I gotcha,” his voice soft as he gently picks her up, his attention moving to the woman. “How do we get outta here?”

He watches as she tears off the cap and, finally, the face mask.

Stumbling back, he feels like he’s been shot, his eyes going wide, all of the oxygen leaving his lungs and making it hard to breathe, blood pounding in his ears.

It can’t be.

Since the night of the outbreak, Joel has been plagued with nightmares, reliving the horrors over and over again, self-medicating with pills and home-brewed booze to dreamlessly sleep. There were nights when he’d dream of the woman he once loved—her eyes, her smile, usually the two of them in bed with soft light pouring in from the window, and if his brain was being particularly cruel, he’d be on top of her, watching as she came around him—something he once loved to see, and was now painful, waking up harder than a rock, and too fucking sad to do anything about it except drink until he passed out. A vicious cycle.

Staring at the woman in front of him, it’s the same face from his dreams.

He’d kissed those lips, held those cheeks, spent hours studying every detail, and thought he’d never see it again—only in memory, another person lost to him.

It feels like he’s seeing a ghost, unable to believe that this is real, that she’s standing there, thinking maybe he might be dead, and he’s having a nice hallucination before his soul leaves this earth.

He croaks out your name, it feeling rusty on his tongue.

She smiles softly, and he sucks in a breath because it is you, and you’re alive, tears beginning to burn in his eyes.

“Hi, babe,” you greet with a wiggle of your fingers in a wave.

His heart constricts, his lips slowly tipping up, replying without a second thought.

“Hi, baby.”

Hours Earlier

“She doesn’t have to die!” you shout.

For months, Marlene has been talking about a girl immune to the infection and that she hired a smuggler to deliver her to your research hospital where you worked, but after most of Marlene’s crew didn’t make the trip here, you all assumed the girl hadn’t survived.

At least you had until she’d been found unconscious nearby, the old bite mark that’d healed and scarred with no sign of infection prominent on her arm, identifying her as Ellie Williams.

Tests were done to confirm her immunity, and now you’re discussing what’s to be done with the lead surgeon at this facility and Marlene, the doctor so adamant about finding a cure he isn’t taking into account that Ellie is a child and that there are other options than doing a procedure that will outright kill her.

“We have to extract the fungus,” he replies.

“Yes, and we can biopsy,” you argue.

“Can that be done?” Marlene asks.

He’s sitting behind his desk, you and Marlene standing in front of it. She’s called you in as a second opinion because you’re second in line behind the surgeon here at the hospital.

You and he speak at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Her attention moves to him.

“Lay it out for me why a biopsy wouldn’t work.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, looking tired.

“The fungus is intertwined with the brain, and removing it would destroy the host.”

“She’s a child, not some science experiment. Why does it all have to be removed?”

He sighs.

“It’s our best chance at making the vaccine—extract the entire specimen, and we’ll save millions of lives.”

“At the cost of an innocent kid?” Marlene asks with a raised eyebrow.

He leans forward on the desk, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do you think I’m unaware of the situation?” he asks. “How many Fireflies have died for less? How many sacrifices have been made for nothing when this one will actually have results?”

She looks at you.

“Rebuttal?”

“In order to make a vaccine, we only need some of the mutated infection. It’s possible to biopsy some of it to get what we need—extracting the entire specimen is overkill and murder.”

Marlene faces him again.

“I want to agree with her,” she says, pointing her thumb at you. “If she can do it without killing Ellie, then I’ll have her take over.”

His eyes narrow.

“She’s not even a real doctor.” “My degree would say otherwise,” you snidely reply.

He met your gaze.

“You didn’t complete your residency—you were an intern when the outbreak happened. I was a practicing physician with years under my belt, and you think you know our best course of action for this situation? I have the experience. I have been searching for a cure for years while you were off being a medic.” The disdain is evident in his tone. “You may have risen in the ranks here over the last five years, but I am the head of this hospital.” He looks at Marlene. “I’ve been working for your cause practically since its inception. Our goal is to make a vaccine. You’ve trusted me here for years to do our work, and we’ve been fighting for this moment—this is our chance to justify all of the sacrifices and horrific things we’ve been through, and we can’t let it all go to waste because our cure happens to reside in a fourteen-year-old girl—you have to trust me on this, a biopsy is not enough, we need it all to ensure the vaccine is made.”

“That’s horse shit!” you exclaimed, throwing up your hands.

Marlene holds her hand up to you, her attention on the surgeon.

“What if this was your daughter?” she asks, well aware that he has one, who’s also a Firefly.

“I wouldn’t hesitate,” he answers. “One life for millions of others? I think it’s worth the sacrifice.”

She nods.

“Do it.”

“Marlene, I can—” you start to protest.

She turns to you, cutting you off, “We have to do whatever it takes to be successful—if you don’t agree, you can leave. It’s being done with or without you, but you're not welcome back once you step outside those doors.”

Your mouth falls open, anger swirling in your gut.

This is murder. They’re going to kill this girl, and what if it doesn’t pan out to anything? This isn’t sitting right with you, not when there are other options. You’ve been with the Fireflies for years, a way to survive and try to do some good, but seeing what they’re willing to do for a cure has made you disillusioned with the group—the experimentations, infecting people to try out vaccines that failed—and now there’s a real shot at getting somewhere, and they want to kill the person who’s giving it to them.

Can you get her out?

Can you save her?

That smuggler she came with managed to get her across the country in relatively good shape, and you have to assume he fought and killed to keep her safe.

Would he help you?

Two against dozens of armed guards sounds like a suicide mission, but what will the Fireflies resort to if this all fails?

As the surgeon said, you spent years as a medic, which meant you were traveling, protecting yourself, gaining your skills as a doctor and in self-defense, not shy about guns, blood, or carnage.

If they’re going to do whatever it takes, then you will too, in order to save this girl.

“Am I understood?” Marlene asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply.

“Good.” She glances back at the man. “I’m gonna go tell Joel.”

The name has a jolt running through you, memories of a man from your past coming to the forefront of your brain—chocolate-colored eyes, brown waves of hair, a strong nose, broad shoulders—Joel Miller was a hard one to lose, and you never recovered, would never recover. He was the love of your life, and you were planning on spending the rest of your days with him and his daughter up until the world ended, and you got separated, hoping they were out there somewhere as safe as they could be in these times. You squash down the sliver of hope, knowing Marlene isn’t talking about your Joel.

“Why?” he asks, making you mad that he’s questioning her decency.

“He traveled with her for months. He has the right to know. Good luck with your surgery.” With that, she left, leaving the two of you.

“I know you don’t agree with me,” he starts, “but today will go down in history as the day we saved the world.”

Your hands clench at your sides, grinding your teeth.

“Right…”

“Get her prepped for the operation. We’ll start in two hours.”

“How many will you need on your service?”

He thinks it over for a second.

“You can scrub in—I won’t need your help. One nurse will do. It’s a pretty straightforward procedure.”

“As you wish, Doctor,” you say through your teeth. “I’ll get the operating room put together.”

With the discussion over, you leave the room, trying to figure out what you’ll do as you walk to the surgical floor, mindlessly changing into scrubs, and a surgical cap, putting on your medical mask last. In the back of your locker, you take the handgun, stuffing it into the waistband of your pants, thankful it was normal to walk around armed.

Before you go to the girl’s room, you stop at the nurse's station, having the few there decide who will help during the surgery.

You’re not going to bother putting the operating room together; that will give you extra time.

Frankly, you shouldn’t even bother seeing the girl, but something inside you wants to meet her, so you go, her sitting up in a hospital bed, legs criss crossed under her, reading some old magazine one of the nurse’s probably brought her.

Knocking on her door, you ask, “Anything good in there?”

She looks over the pages at you.

“Just two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. People really read this shit?”

Laughing, you answer, “Yes, especially girls your age.”

She makes a face that has you snorting, her setting it down.

“It’s crazy how much people cared about how they looked.”

Walking towards her, you smile, nodding your head.

“I know,” you reply. “It would take me a minimum of thirty minutes to get ready before leaving the house.”

Shock is on her face.

“Why did it take so fucking long?”

“Shower, hair, makeup, finding the perfect outfit—if I had a date, it took me an hour because I wanted to look as cute as possible.”

Sadness has your chest going tight, remembering your first date with Joel and how you stressed over what dress to wear, mentally high-fiving yourself when his eyes lit up at seeing you. He tried to be a gentleman, telling you he was old-fashioned and didn’t do sex on the first date, his mind changing by the end of the night when you’d both ended up naked on your living room couch.

“An hour?!” she exclaims, taking you from your reverie. “Why?”

“Well, when two people like each other very much—”

“Ew,” she interrupts. “Yuck, I don’t want to know. Anyways, I’m assuming you’re a doctor?”

Making a show of looking down at your body, you ask, “What gave me away?” You met her eyes again.

“Honestly, you’re not like any doctor I’ve met before—earlier with the tests, they were so…”

“Cold?” you finish for her. “Not very friendly?”

“Exactly.”

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.

“There’s no bedside manner anymore,” you say. “It’s getting you fixed up and on your way—at least that’s how it is with newer doctors, the ones who’ve learned over time and didn’t actually go to school before the world went to shit. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable, and—” you look left and right like you’re making sure no one is around before looking at her again“ —It’s nice having someone new to talk to. People here are boring.”

She laughs.

“I can tell.”

It’s the right decision to save this girl. You know, in your gut, that it’s what you need to do.

Her spunkiness reminds you of Sarah, who also wouldn’t have been into two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. You’d bonded with Joel’s daughter over music, her loving your CD collection and always letting her choose what you listened to in the car, her tastes varying, which had a lot to do with her dad loving tunes from the seventies and eighties. She was a firecracker, always keeping her dad on his toes, and here was Ellie keeping you on yours.

“Let’s talk business, squirt,” you say.

Her face scrunches up, “Squirt?”

“Yeah, similar to ‘kiddo,’” you answer.

“You fucking sound like Joel—where is he, by the way? I woke up, and he wasn’t with me. People have been weird and will only say he’s okay.”

The worry is evident on her face, even though she’s trying to hide it.

“I haven’t personally seen him,” you reply. “He is okay, though. Marlene was actually heading to let him know how you’re doing.” And that they’re planning to kill you, you didn’t say out loud.

“That’s good. Don’t need him worrying.”

“I’m impressed he got you all the way here. What’s he like?”

You’re curious about the man.

“Tall, wide—” she held out her hands “—and a grumpy asshole.” Definitely not your Joel, then. “But he’s got his nice moments.” She gives you a conspiratorial look that makes you smile. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I know deep down he’s a fucking softy.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” you laugh.

Her face goes somber, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket under her.

“So, what’s gonna happen to me, Doc?”

Your stomach must drop all the way to the ground floor.

You couldn’t lie to her, but you didn’t want to scare her.

“They want to extract the infection from your brain to make a vaccine,” you answer truthfully.

“Who’s they?”

“Marlene and the head of this facility.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “You won’t be there?”

“I was asked to scrub in, but I won’t be operating.”

“Surgery, then?”

“Surgery.” You nod.

“Will it hurt?”

Smiling reassuringly, you answer, “Won’t feel a thing. You’ll be knocked out cold.”

“That’s good. Can I talk to Joel beforehand? I just want to thank him for everything.”

You frown, “That won’t be possible. I’ll happily relay a message to him for you.”

She looks downtrodden, eyes darting away from you.

“That works. Um, if I don’t make it, can you tell him I said thank you? For getting me here safe and not abandoning me? That I’m sorry for being such a fucking pain in his ass.”

You reach to touch her leg comfortingly.

“I’ll let him know,” you reply softly. “You know, I once knew a Joel before everything.” You wave your hand in explanation, her meeting your gaze to nod. “I was going to marry him,” you continue. “He hadn’t asked yet, but I knew he was the one. You never forget a dreamboat like Joel Miller,” you sigh wistfully.

Her eyes go round.

“Joel Miller?” she asks. “Your Joel’s last name was Miller?”

“It was.” You nod. “I loved him and his daughter Sarah.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You’re taken aback, “I’m sorry..?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She puts up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just my grumpy Joel’s last name is Miller, and he had a daughter named Sarah.”

Your heart clenches, and your throat gets tight, asking thickly, “Had?”

Clear sadness comes over her face.

“I don’t know all the details, but she didn’t make it. Early on. Really fucked him up.”

Covering your mouth, you need a second, emotions warring inside you—hope that it is your Joel and unimaginable pain about Sarah, not wanting her to be gone, and thinking of all the years he would’ve been alone, wondering if he even had Tommy. It’s a struggle to keep the tears at bay.

“Your Joel Miller, does he happen to be from Texas?” you finally ask.

“Yeah,” she answers, nodding. “Sounds funny, too. His brother Tommy and him are from, I think, Houston, no, fuck, starts with an ‘A.’”

“Austin,” you breathe, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yeah!” she exclaims. “Holy shit, is my Joel your Joel?”

She’s excited by the prospect, and you’re doing everything not to cry. You need to go to him. You both need to save this girl, and once that’s done, you can have the long overdue reunion. He won’t want her to die, especially not after losing Sarah. It’s cruel that he’s been put in this spot, your blood boiling, knowing without a doubt that if he brought her here alone, the two of you could get her out, or at least you’d both die trying, and you’re willing, especially to see Joel one last time.

“I think he might be,” you reply.

“You gotta go talk to him!”

“I do.” You nod. “Do you trust me?”

She looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to be safe—you’re not going to die. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Okay..?”

“Good. You’re not going to see me again until after you wake up, so don’t panic, squirt. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to go see him,” you say as you stand up.

She picks up the magazine.

“Do you need kissing tips? It says here that with these techniques, you’ll rock his world.”

You snort.

“Aren’t you a goddamn comedian—you must’ve amused the hell out of Joel.”

She looks proud as she smiles.

“I made him laugh—multiple times.”

“Way to go, kiddo. Don’t tell anyone where I’m going, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Sounds good, Doc.”

It was your goal not to arouse any suspicions, walking briskly towards the floor you knew Joel was on, stopping to snag a scalpel, and taking the back way that was a little longer but would have you bypassing a lot of the guards since you had some time to work with, the procedure having to be delayed with nothing being ready.

Hiding in the shadows of the next room, you gasp when you hear Joel calling Marlene on her bullshit, your heart picking up in speed at the familiar Texas drawl and rasp, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

He’s here.

He’s really here and alive.

The focus needs to be on saving Ellie, so you know you can’t trip him up by revealing who you are, thankful you’d changed into your operating clothes.

When his door opens, and you hear Marlene’s footsteps heading away from you, you’re moving, scalpel held tight in your hand, knowing you need to be as quiet as possible so as not to alert the other two guards on this floor.

You don’t even look at Joel when you enter the room, focusing on your task, and executing it seamlessly, only chancing a glance once you’ve tossed him the gun.

He’s older and greyer, years of surviving making his already broad shoulders even broader, his face hardened over time, having some idea of the hell he’s been through, and still, just as he was at thirty-six, at fifty-six, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Your fingers want to smooth the furrow between his eyes, kiss those plush lips of his, feel his arms engulf you, hold you tight, and never let you go.

Twenty years and you’re still madly in love with Joel Miller—one look, and you’re a fucking goner.

You can’t get your hopes up, not knowing anything about his current situation, assuming he’s probably moved on.

Who wouldn’t want him?

There’s no way he’s been single all these years. You’ve had your own flings, nothing long-lasting or very memorable.

Who could compare to Joel?

He’s the blueprint of what you want in a man, and no one could or would ever measure up.

Was your life lonely?

A little, but why tie yourself to someone you’d never be able to love because your heart belonged to another?

“Who are you?” he asks.

“No time to chat,” you reply. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.” You ignore the excited flutters in your tummy at hearing his voice.

He asks another question, and you answer, leading him from the room, weapons raised, ready to face whatever comes your way, comforted with Joel at your back.

When you reach the top floor, you quickly understand how he managed to get Ellie here in one piece—the man was a killing machine—brutal, merciless, breathtaking.

The way he fought was a thing of beauty, and if you hadn’t had to focus on staying alive, you’d have loved to watch him—seeing his strength, his competence, not wasting a single shot.

Somehow, it made him more attractive, which you didn’t think was possible.

The two of you worked together so well as a pair, covering each other, moving as one to mow down anyone who crossed your path, making it to the operating room just as they were about to begin.

You feel no remorse for killing the surgeon. Frankly, you haven’t felt bad about killing another human in years because there’s no room for feeling guilty when you’re trying to survive—you compartmentalize, knowing that it’s either them or you; if you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, you’re dead, so you’ve got to pull the trigger first, and you will.

You and Joel are on the same page about getting Ellie out of there as soon as possible. You quickly take care of her IV and make sure her hand is bandaged, smiling softly when you see Joel tenderly lift the girl into his arms, murmuring quietly to her, seeing just how much he cares.

There’s no doubt in your mind he would’ve attempted this rescue alone, and the thing is, you’re pretty sure he would’ve succeeded from sheer will alone.

His eyes meet yours, seeing his trust in you, him relying on you now to get you all out.

“How do we get outta here?” he asks.

There’s no point in hiding anymore, honestly surprised your cap and mask even stayed on.

You’re not sure what his reaction will be, hoping for happiness.

When he gets a good look at you, he stumbles back in shock, the blood leaving his face, watching his eyes go wide, mouth agape, seeing the shock, the disbelief, the hope, many emotions coming over his features as he processes what’s going on.

His voice cracks as he breathes your name, and you gently smile, knowing this is probably a lot for him, raising your hand and wiggling your fingers in a wave.

“Hi, babe,” you say.

It’s noticeable on his face the realization that it really is you, and you’re here, his eyes getting misty, lips turning up, the blood in your veins thrumming when he answers like he had a thousand times before without missing a beat, “Hi, baby.”

“You’re alive,” Joel says in wonder, his eyes mapping out your face, seeing lines from aging but still just as beautiful as the first time he saw you all those years ago.

“I am,” you reply, nodding. You point at him. “You are, too. Imagine my surprise when Ellie started telling me about this grumpy asshole named Joel Miller, who brought her here—couldn’t believe it was my Joel Miller until we compared notes. Sorry to spring this on you; I know it’s a shock.”

He huffs out a breath.

“That’s a fuckin’ understatement.”

You giggle.

Is this real? Is he dreaming?

You’re just as lively as he remembers, your smile like a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken world.

There’s a sensation in his stomach, it not feeling right, hitting him a second later that the fluttering is fucking butterflies, as if he was a goddamn teenager again, talking to his crush.

Twenty fucking years, and he still has it bad.

“God, I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you, too.”

“We’ll catch up after we get the fuck out of here. We’re going out that door.” You point at the opposite wall from where you came in. “Pit stop to grab her things that are on the way. Then the elevator to the basement garage—we can get a truck. There’s multiple.”

“I need you to do somethin’ first,” he says.

Your head cocks to the side.

“What do you need?”

“Come ‘ere, my hands are full. I need you to pinch me.”

Your eyebrows drew together.

“You need me to pinch you…?” you ask slowly.

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “Gotta make sure I’m not dreamin’—need to know you’re really here with me.”

Your eyes soften, quickly moving around the table until you’re at his side, smiling at him as you pinch his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek, his skin buzzing where you touch, wanting more of it.

“There,” you say, looking at him through your lashes, and it has him gulping. “Believe I’m here, now?”

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby,” his words come out rough, feeling the tears in his eyes.

“I missed you, too, Joel,” you reply, rubbing his arm, goosebumps erupting on his skin. “Let’s get out of here—I wanna catch up.”

He nods, “Lead the way.”

He watches you getting the rifle into your hands, him following you out of the room, stopping to grab Ellie’s backpack that was left on a hospital bed, and you putting it on.

It’s a fucking maze to find the elevator, you knowing exactly where to go, guards showing up halfway to it, commotion erupting as you told him where to go, covering him and Ellie as the three of you moved quickly down the corridors, gunshots ringing out.

You’re both panting by the time the elevator doors close, you taking point in front of him with your gun at the ready.

Joel can’t get over you being here with him.

There’s so much about you that hasn’t changed since all those years ago, somehow keeping your radiance, your life, not losing yourself to the darkness, but underneath all of that, he’s seen how you’ve adapted—killing with zero hesitation, not afraid to do what it takes to survive, a ruthlessness to you that only develops after going through some horrible shit. Guilt makes his chest squeeze, hating that you’ve been out here on your own, surviving. He at least has Tommy, had Tess, and with how easily you’re leaving with him, he doesn’t think you have anyone, and it breaks his heart.

“Do we need to worry about runnin’ into anybody else down there?” he asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder, “They would’ve called everyone to the top floor, and I’m pretty sure we took out at least ninety percent of their muscle. I can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to try and stop us.”

He nods.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. I’d honestly planned on trying to get her out before I knew it was you who’d brought her. I’m thankful you were here—you’re a fucking tank. Probably wouldn’t have even needed me.”

He chuckles, his chest puffing out a little in pride.

“If I’d had to do it alone, I’d be in a helluva lot more pain, so thank you.”

“Knees?”

He nods. “And my fuckin’ back—I’ve gotten old.”

“But you still look really fucking good,” you reply with a wink, and it makes his throat go dry, his heart hammering that you’re flirting with him, that you’re still interested in him after all this time, even though he’s gone grey, and rougher around the edges. You didn’t even shy away from what he’d do to keep himself and those he cares about safe; pretty sure you even liked it.

It’s been so long, he wonders if you moved on and if he even has a chance with you.

He’s had time to mourn Tess, thankful for the years he got with her, keeping him alive and not letting him self-destruct in his grief, but even though they cared about each other to a certain extent, they’d been using one another—he was the muscle, she was the brains, and he couldn’t give her what she wanted; offer feelings that weren’t hers to have, so what they had wasn’t all that romantic, there wasn’t time for any of that shit, and Tess didn’t much care for it, anyway.

There’s history with Joel and you, memories of a time when you’d been happy together, and being here with you is making him remember all of the good times—the feelings he had for you that he’d buried deep inside after he thought you were gone, coming alive inside him, consuming him, wanting to touch you, feel your soft skin under him, and kiss you—fuck, he hasn’t kissed in so long, Tess never being very affectionate, sex always quick and a means to scratch an itch.

He clearly remembers what sex was like with you—it haunts his dreams, the time you’d spend in bed, reliving the passion, the tenderness, the love, something deep down he’s craved since the last time he was with you.

The elevator opens before he can speak, the gun raised in your hands as you exit, Joel at your back, both of you stopping in your tracks once you’re out, finding Marlene standing there with her handgun pointed towards you both.

“What’s your plan?” she asks. “You save her today, but what about tomorrow? There’s a lot of shit out there. How long before she’s killed by a pack of clickers? If she even makes it that long without being murdered first. Face it, you can’t save her.”

“We’ll sure as fuck try,” he grits out. “Stop pretendin’ like you care about her. You were happy to stand aside and let her die.”

“For the greater good, to save lives.”

“You can shove the greater good up your ass, Marlene.”

She sighs.

“You can still do the right thing.” Her attention moves to you. “Do the biopsy like you wanted. All I care about is finding the cure. I’ll put you in charge of the facility. You can lead in the vaccine’s development.”

You scoff.

“You know as well as I do,” you reply, “that I’ll be dead if I step one foot back inside there. You’re lying, Marlene. You and the rest of the Fireflies will want us killed for what happened today.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Marlene asks.

“Yours!” you exclaim. “For not listening to me. This is all your fault.”

A gun goes off, and Marlene stumbles, falling to her knees, her gun skittering across the ground when she loses her grip on it.

She’s holding her stomach, a blood stain expanding under her hands.

“Don’t,” she chokes out, looking at you with her face contorted in pain. “Don’t kill me. Let me go. Please.”

You and he both know what needs to be done.

“She ain’t safe with you alive,” he says, her attention moving to him.

“Please,” she pleads.

Another shot is fired, and Marlene’s lifeless body crumples to the ground.

“Come on,” you tell him, heading towards a nearby pickup, shouldering your rifle as you get the door open for him to set Ellie in the backseat, you disappearing for a minute and coming back to put gasoline canisters in the bed, along with a bag, telling him it had emergency rations and a first aid kit.

“Where will we go?” you ask when you get in the passenger seat, Joel already ready to drive.

“Wyoming,” he answers. “Tommy.”

Relief washes over your face.

“I’m happy to hear he’s alive,” you say softly.

A stone is in his stomach that he’ll have to tell you about Sarah.

“Yeah, that asshole’s still alive and kickin’,” he replies. “His wife scares the fuck outta me.”

“Wow, can’t believe someone married him.”

He chuckles.

“Me either—do you know how to get outta here?”

The truck’s started, Joel already driving.

“Yes!” you reply, directing him.

There’s not much talking as you make your way out of the city, both too nervous and expecting the worst. It feels like he can finally breathe once you’re on the highway heading toward Tommy’s.

Ellie’s still passed out, the pickup rumbling down the road.

“How long will she sleep for?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Oh, an hour or two,” you answer.

He nods. “We gotta do anythin’ for her?”

“Nope. Just have to wait for the drugs to wear off—she was given a cocktail that could knock out a horse.”

He frowns, nodding once.

“It’s sweet,” you reply, him seeing you with a soft smile on your lips.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“How much you care about her.”

His hands squeeze the steering wheel, the leather creaking.

“She’s a pain in the ass,” he grumbles.

That makes you laugh, and God, he’s missed that sound.

“Ellie apologizes, and I quote, ‘for being such a fucking pain in his ass,’” you giggle. “She also wanted to thank you for keeping her safe and not abandoning her.

His heart clenches up.

“She said those things?”

Your lips tip down, frowning.

“Yeah. Wanted me to tell you in case she didn’t make it.”

“Why’d you wanna save her?”

“It was the right thing to do. I fought for a way that she’d survive the operation, and I was outvoted—couldn’t let them murder her.”

After losing Sarah and thinking he lost you, too, Joel had erected walls in his mind to keep the debilitating grief he felt at bay, shoving down his emotions and not letting himself feel—couldn’t let himself feel, not if he wanted to live, which was already a struggle. This made him cold, emotionless, a husk of a man, having to keep finding something to fight for to keep going, only allowing his rage to come out in order to kill and do what was necessary to survive without a single care.

Tess would poke at the walls without meaning to, getting glimpses of his tenderness that she’d bat away and make him close back up.

Ellie made it her goal to break them down, him imagining her with a sledgehammer, laying waste to the concrete and steel, making him care, making him feel until she’d made a hole big enough to crawl inside and worm her way into his heart, the kid one of the most important people in his life now.

And then there’s you, coming out of nowhere and making the walls left standing crumble to dust simply by being here—the memories, the history, the love, igniting him, making him remember what it was like to feel again, focusing on the strongest emotion that has him feeling warmth deep down to his bones, contentedness, pure happiness, the feeling so strong he’s almost breathless.

You’re alive and with him, Ellie’s safe and sound, and he’s happy, actually happy, for the first time since everything went to hell.

And you care about Ellie, which just makes him love you even more, those butterflies in his stomach going wild.

“Thank you again for all you did,” he says.

“It’s no big deal.”

“You coulda died.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” You shrug.

He smiles.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Same. I have missed you every day since the last time I saw you.” Reaching your hand over, you touch his thigh, sadness on your face as you look at him. “Joel, I’m sorry about Sarah,” you say gently.

He sucks in a breath, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” his voice is thick, his throat so tight it’s hard to speak, but you need to know what happened, Joel knowing how much you’d loved her, treating her as if she were your own. “It, uh, was my birthday when everything went down.”

Your hand goes to your mouth, gasping, “Joel, no.”

“Yeah.” He swallows hard. “Worst fuckin’ day of my life.” Tears were in his eyes. “Held her in my arms as she died—fuckin’ military shot her,” he spits out. “Tryin’ to contain everything they just started murderin’, took my baby girl from me,” he chokes on the words, a tear slipping down his face. “Lost her and thought I lost you, too, found your house in flames.” He wipes at the wetness in his eyes. “Fuckin’ hate remeberin’ that night—my entire world was taken from me.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper, moving across the bench seat to be next to him, Joel welcoming the hug you give him, wrapping your arm around his belly, and resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m just so fucking sad about Sarah,” you sniffle.

He reaches to press a hand against the back of your head.

“I know, baby,” he replies.

“Was Tommy with you?”

“Yeah. He kept me alive.”

“What’d you do?”

He lets out a long sigh.

“A lot of fucked up shit.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“I guess if you’re livin’, you’d have to.”

“Isn’t that so assbackwards? What were you doing before Ellie?”

“Boston—smuggling.”

“Oooh, a criminal, isn’t that sexy.” His hand moves to hold the steering wheel again, gulping. “Sorry,” you say quickly, sitting up. “It’s rude of me to flirt with you while you’re explaining all these horrible things. I don’t even know if you’re still single; for all I know, you could have a wife and kids back in Boston.”

“No wife and no kids—I can’t, not again.” He can’t help the somber tone of his voice.

He can tell you understand from the look on your face.

“I get it,” you reply. “I, uh, made sure I couldn’t have children. The world’s too fucked, and I didn’t want to risk anything. So, had a fellow doctor help me out.”

He’s sad remembering how when you were together, you’d wanted kids with him, at least two, you’d told him, and he’d been excited by the prospect, seeing how much you cared about Sarah and her adoring you. It was painful to think about, but he’d asked his daughter a week before his birthday over breakfast if she’d be okay if he married you. She’d been ecstatic and wanted to help him pick out the ring.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” you wave away his apology. “Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a question sitting on the tip of his tongue that he finally asks.

“Do I gotta worry about a partner huntin’ us down to get you back?”

You scoff.

“No. Painfully single. Anyone I need to worry about?”

“Not anymore,” he answers. “There was someone months ago—they didn’t make it.”

“Jesus, Joel,” you gasp. “You can’t catch a fucking break. I know life is a bitch, but my god, do I feel like it’s taking a special interest in making you miserable.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that’s how it feels sometimes. God must be laughing at me.” He glances at you. “I think things are changin’ though after today. Finally think I’m gettin’ a goddamn break.”

You lean forward, knocking your knuckles on the dashboard.

“We don’t have wood, but I’m being safe—don’t want to jinx you.”

“Thanks for lookin’ out.” He smiles.

“Always.” You grin.

“Tell me what happened with you,” he says. “How’d I lose you?”

It’s something he’s wondered for twenty years, needing to know what happened to you.

“As you know, I was interning at the clinic to complete my residency—”

He did know that. You were fresh out of med school when you’d met, honestly surprising him that you let an old guy like him get your number.

“And I’d had your birthday off,” you continued. “When they called me in, I went, but something didn’t feel right about halfway, so I turned around to head back to your place. A tire went flat.”

“The spare was flat, too, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“I told you I’d take care of it, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother!”

“You weren’t no bother—you were my girlfriend, and it was my job to make sure you were safe. I shoulda just fuckin’ done it. Fuck.” He hits the steering wheel.

He felt like this was all his fault. So much could’ve been different if he’d done this one thing.

“Hey, hey.” You rub his arm. “This isn’t on you. I was the dumbass.”

He meets your eyes.

“Twenty years,” he says. “Fuckin’ lost you for twenty goddamn years because of a tire?”

He can’t fucking believe it.

You’re looking down, “Yeah,” you whisper.

He sighs loudly, squeezing your thigh.

“Sorry about gettin’ upset, it’s just, God, think of what our lives coulda been.”

“I’m sorry, Joel. I fucked up.”

“No, baby. You were busy becomin’ a doctor, already stretchin’ yourself thin datin’ me. I shoulda done more.”

“You did more than enough, and you had your own stuff to worry about—Sarah, your construction company. I’m an adult. I should’ve made sure my shit was taken care of.”

He sighs.

“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I am.”

“What’d you do after gettin’ out of Austin?”

“Searched for you. Doctors were in need, so I traveled a lot in the early days offering aid and hoping I’d find you. Some years later, I got snatched up by the Fireflies, thinking maybe they had the right idea, eventually helping to try to make a vaccine. Was at the research facility for the last five years, but things were so fucked. I know I would’ve gotten out soon if I hadn't left today.”

“What do you wanna do now?”

He’s hoping you’ll say you want to stay with him, wanting you back.

“Um, well, seeing as I’m unattached, and you’re unattached, I thought I’d follow you around? Wherever you go, I’ll go,” you answer. “I’m not sure if you can tell, but I never got over you, Joel. Never. I thought I lost you, mourned what was and could’ve been, and I was never able to really be with anyone because I still loved you, and seeing you today, being with you, it’s evident I still love you. So, if you’ll have me, I wanna stay with you, I don’t want to be away from you ever again, and I know Ellie is important to you—I’ve known her less than a day, and she’s already pretty fucking important to me, too. She’s a good kid, and I’m glad you’ve got her. I’m just really fucking hoping you’d maybe want me around, too.”

His heart’s squeezing so tight it’s hard to breathe, so happy that you’d want to be with him again, but doubt rears its ugly head that this is all too good to be true, that you don’t know what you’re signing up for.

“I ain’t him,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not who?” you ask, confused.

“I ain’t the same man you fell in love with.”

“You think I don’t know you’ve changed? We killed together today. You’ve been referred to as a ‘grumpy asshole’ by someone who’s been around you for months. I’m not expecting you to be the man you were twenty years ago—we’ve been through literal hell. I know I sure as fuck am not the same.” You grab his thigh. “We can figure it out, get to know each other again. However, I think it’s safe to say with how easily we’ve fallen back into things, there isn’t much to worry about.” You softly smile. “We’re not the same people we were before this shit, but I think the love’s still there. At least, it is on my end. You’re fine, babe,” you reassure, rubbing over his jeans. “Don’t stress. We can make this work if you’re willing.”

He met your eyes, seeing the truth shining brightly in the depths and knowing without a doubt you meant what you were saying, wanting to kiss you so badly.

“I’m so fuckin’ willin’,” he says. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Impossible.” You smile. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

He knows you mean it, and it has his heart swelling, thinking maybe things are changing for the better, that he’s being given a second chance at life, and he’s not gonna waste it.

“Wanna know the moment I knew you loved me?” he asks, reminiscing about the past.

It’s how he’d known you were the one for him.

A curious expression is on your face, smiling at him.

“Tell me.”

“When you didn’t even bat an eye at bein’ fired from the clinic in town for datin’ me.”

“Oh my god, I wasn’t fired. I was forcibly relocated.”

He chuckles.

“If that’s what you wanna call it. You datin’ a patient made it to where the only clinic that’d take you was an hour and a half away in the city.”

“You make it sound like I was dating you while you were still my patient—you were in my care once, and by the end of the appointment, you’d seduced me.” He snorts. “I was never your doctor again, so it wasn’t unethical. I had to be forcibly relocated for breaking a dumb clinic-specific rule that made zero sense because Janis was jealous you were dating me and not her and reported me. Fucking, Janis,” you seethe.

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s probably dead now,” he says.

You chortle before covering your mouth in shock.

“That’s fucking dark, Joel.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“I mean, yeah, the odds aren’t very good. You wanna know something, though, about the whole me being forcibly relocated to the city?”

He met your eyes, seeing that smile he loved.

“What’s that?”

“It was worth it—you were worth it. I’d do it all over again and happily be forcibly relocated so I can date you.”

That has him feeling soft.

“Am I still worth it?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“Twenty years might have come and gone. I’m not that young piece of ass I once was—“

He makes a face, cutting you off, “You were never a piece of ass to me,” he says seriously. “I loved you—still love you, never fuckin’ stopped. Before everything went to fuckin’ shit, I saw us havin’ a life together—was gonna ask you to move in that night, had a key ready to give you. I wanted to marry you, have kids, and spend the rest of our lives together because you were my everything.” His voice cracks when he speaks again, “You and Sarah, you both were my entire fuckin’ world.” He clears his throat to compose himself. “I loved you so fuckin’ much I spent years tryin’ to find you. Years. When there wasn’t any sign, I figured I lost you, too, and with you gone, my last shred of humanity went, too, because I no longer had anythin’ to live for. I loved you,” he croaks. “I still love you, and I’ll never stop until the day I die.”

Tears roll down your cheeks.

“I love you, too,” you say.

His arm moves around your shoulder to pull you into him, hugging you as best he can and kissing your hair.

“I’m happy to have you back—want you with me if you can accept that I’m fucked up.”

“We’re in the same boat. It’s crazy what an apocalypse does to people.”

You stay like that, him holding you against him while you both talk, reminiscing about before, sharing your favorite stories about Sarah, comfortable with each other, and talking so easily like no time had passed at all.

An hour goes by, Joel navigating the road as you chat.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” a voice says in the backseat. Ellie sits up, rubbing her eyes. “My head feels so fucking weird.”

“Hey, take it easy,” he says. “Drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“Welcome to the land of the living,” you say.

She must notice how you’re cuddled up next to him, seeing her eyes get big in the rearview mirror.

“Woah, you really didn’t need those kissing tips, Doc.”

You snort, and Joel’s curious about what she means.

“What’s she talkin’ about?” he asks.

“She’s being a smartass.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

“She’s always a smartass,” he replies.

You move to look over the seat at her.

“Just feeling woozy? Anything hurt?” you ask.

“Brain’s all foggy. Nothing hurts.” She touches her head, looking confused. “What happened? Did they do the procedure?”

“They didn’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “We—”

He interrupts you, “They found somebody else,” he says quickly, knowing Ellie won’t take what you did well. “There was another like you, and they chose them.”

He doesn’t want to meet your eyes because he knows you’re staring him down.

Ellie’s not buying it; he can see it on her face, making him grimace, and swallow hard, knowing he fucked up, shame roiling in his gut.

“So, Joel is a fucking liar,” you say, eyes still on him. “I can’t believe you—she deserves to know.”

“She ain’t gonna like it,” he says.

“You don’t know that.”

“What won’t I like?” Ellie pipes up. “What’s going on, guys? Be straight with me, Doc.”

Your attention moves to her.

“They were going to kill you.”

“Oh,” she says quietly. “I was okay with dying if it meant saving people's lives.”

“That’s very courageous, Ellie, and I understand you want to help, but they didn’t need to kill you. What was the point if they had and a cure couldn’t be made?”

Her eyebrows furrow.

“They still would’ve had a chance to try!” she says hotly. Joel knew she’d be mad; the kid was determined to be a martyr. “It could’ve worked, and you took away my shot to help do some good!”

“They were going to murder you,” you calmly reply.

“I was willing to die!”

“Well, I ain’t willin’ to lose you!” His voice rises.

“It wasn’t your choice, Joel! It was mine!”

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’, and you ain’t listen’ to her either!” He tilts his head towards you. “They coulda gotten what they needed without murderin’ you, but they didn’t care.” He looks at you. “Baby, tell her your plan if you would’ve had the chance.”

“We could’ve gone in,” you say, “and biopsied some of the infection—it intertwines with the brain, so just a little bit somewhere that wouldn’t do you any harm.”

“Well, why don’t we go back there and do that then?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

You sigh.

“Because the Fireflies were so deadset on taking your entire brain, they were willing to kill anyone who got in their way.”

“You killed them,” she breathes, eyes wide.

“We did.” You nod.

“What do I do now? Why am I here?” She’s upset. “Why am I immune, Doc? Are there others like me?”

“We’ve never come across anyone else immune—somehow, the infection has mutated in your body. It’s a new development, something we’ve never seen.”

“And the people who could’ve figured out what the fuck is going on with me are all dead? Great.” She falls back into her seat, pressing her hands to her face. “I needed it all to mean something.” Her words are muffled, looking up at you with wet eyes. “All of the people who’ve died for me. First, my friend Riley who was there when I was bitten—the two of us planning to die together, and my turn never coming. Then Tess and Sam. It needs to mean something. Their deaths can’t have been for nothing! Why do I get to live, and they don’t? What’s the point of me being immune if I can’t do something good with it?”

“Hey, Ellie.” You reach over the seat to touch her arm. “There’s still hope. If I can get access to the right equipment, I can do the biopsy. It might take some time, but I’m capable and have spent many years working to find a cure. There’s hope, kiddo. They didn’t die for nothing, you’re still here, and we’ll have the chance to see what we find.”

“You promise?” she sniffs.

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Is there something you want to say, Joel?” You look at him pointedly.

He sighs.

“Sorry for lyin’ to you, Ellie. It wasn’t right.”

Her face lights up.

“Oh, Doc’s got you whipped!” she laughs. “This is so fucking funny.”

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her in the mirror.

“You’re fucking forgiven, Joel, but I’m still gonna give you shit about being in love,” she sing-songs.

“Christ,” he sighs.

“It’s okay, babe,” you say, rubbing his arm. “We’ll just gross her out with excessive PDA.”

That has him perking up.

“Excessive?” he asks, looking at you and seeing your mischievous smile.

“Wait,” Ellie says. “What’s PDA?”

“Public displays of affection,” you both say simultaneously.

She makes a face.

“Like kissing?” she asks.

You look at her, grinning.

“Yes,” you answer. “And inappropriate touching.”

“Ew.” Ellie mock gags. “Disgusting. I don’t need to see that shit. Keep it to yourselves.”

“Sometimes when two people love each other very much, they can’t help—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sappy bullshit,” Ellie interrupts. “I’m good. Don’t look back here. I’m putting on actual clothes.”

About forty miles from Tommy’s, the truck breaks down on a mountain highway with no way to salvage it, having to walk the rest of the way, gathering your belongings for the half-day trek.

Ellie is a delightful conversationalist, telling you about the trip she and Joel made, poking jabs at him here and there that have him looking grumpy and you laughing.

The three of you are on high alert, even while talking, Joel and you gripping your rifles tight with the young girl between you as you walk for a few hours, finding an old abandoned farmhouse to stay in for the night when the sun begins to set.

It’s just your luck that there’s a stream running through the property, and though it’s too cold to fully bathe, you and Joel take the opportunity to wash up with a bar of soap pilfered from the home to get all of the blood and grime off your skin while Ellie explores the house.

There’s tension between you and Joel, and it’s thick, palpable, fueled by the shared looks and finding his eyes on your body more times than you can count; you’re just as obvious with your interest, checking him out at every opportunity, marveling at how his flannel hugs that chest of his, and his jeans making his ass look incredible, your fingers itching to touch him, and feel his warm skin.

To add fuel to the fire, he hasn’t kissed you yet.

Hours you’ve been back together, and not one single kiss to your lips, knowing he wants to, seeing his gaze lingering on your mouth when he talks to you, wondering to yourself what’s keeping him from going for it, and it was taking everything in you not to make the first move.

It has you desperate and aching, just wanting to feel his lips on yours and his arms around you once more, knowing it will be so fucking good, but in the back of your mind, you know his hesitance is Ellie. After what she said on the drive, he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, which was sweet of him, but it’s been twenty years, and you’re jonesing for just one kiss.

Inside the house, Joel goes about barricading all of the doors on the first floor with furniture, refusing your help, which leaves you to stand off to the side, getting flustered because the man’s putting on a damn show.

He pushes up his sleeves, allowing you to see his muscles flex as he works, seeing his strength while he manhandles a china cabinet, sinfully grunting, sweat beading on his skin. It has you all hot and bothered, thanking the powers that be, Ellie was in another room going through stuff so as not to see you openly gawking, knowing the girl would give you shit about it.

With the last door secure, he turns to you, wiping at his forehead with the back of his arm, a knowing smile on his lips when he asks, “Is there somethin’ on my face? You’ve been starin’ an awfully long time.”

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I was staring because you were being a damn tease.”

He matches your stance, crossing his arms and looking amused.

“I was movin’ furniture. How is that me bein’ a tease?”

“You were moving the furniture suggestively. You know exactly what you were doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I was just makin’ sure we’re safe for the night.”

“Uh-huh, right. You’re a damn tease, Joel Miller.”

Three steps, and he’s in your space, your breath hitching when his big hands land on your hips, leaning his face close enough to your own that your noses almost touch.

You’d forgotten how much real estate his palms can take up, your skin tingling under their breadth, arousal burning in your belly.

“You think I was bein’ a tease?” he asks in a low rasp, his eyes moving between yours and your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Lemme show how much of a tease I can be, baby.”

Your eyes widen.

“Oh god.”

“You drippin’ for me? Thinkin’ about how it felt to have me inside? How I stretched you open? How you always felt me the next day?”

It feels like your skin is on fire, your body so hot, your heart pounding in your chest because now you are thinking about it, and it’s making you throb between your legs.

A whimper falls from your lips as he nudges your nose with his, mouths so close you can feel his breath.

“Bet your panties are drenched for me, baby. Bet you’d love me to slide my hand down them to touch your pretty little pussy, and feel just how wet you are.”

You’re pretty sure you’ll explode if he doesn’t do something, harshly whispering, “Fucking kiss me already, Joel!”

He smiles, chuckling.

“Got you all needy. Alright, I’ll kiss you.”

There’s a possibility your heart might jump out of your chest as he starts moving, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” Ellie says as she enters the room. Joel steps away from you, and you cannot stop the strangled whine that comes from your throat. “You okay, Doc?”

Clearing your throat, you turn to face her, smiling.

“Just peachy.”

She seems to accept your answer, a book held in her hands.

“As I was saying,” Ellie starts. “I’m fucking starving. We got anything to eat?”

The three of you shared some jerky on the drive and nothing more, realizing you haven’t had an actual meal since that morning at the hospital, your stomach suddenly growling.

“Seems it’s dinner time,” Joel says. He looks at you, “You brought those rations, right?”

“I did,” you answer, walking to the rundown dining table that you’d plopped your bag onto, Joel’s backpack next to it. Rummaging through what you have, you say, “Looks like we’re having a variety of canned goods.”

“Got any peaches?” Ellie asks.

“Yep!” you answer, grabbing the can.

“Fuck yeah! I call dibs,” she replies, coming over to take it from you.

All of you sit at the table to eat, Joel across from you, Ellie at the head seat, everyone relatively quiet as you chow down, feeling his eyes on you and pretending like you don’t notice.

“What did you find?” you ask her.

She meets your gaze, setting down her fork to pick up the book.

“Something called ‘Jurassic Park,’” she says. “It’s got dinosaurs, which I thought was fucking cool.”

“The movies were really good,” you reply.

Her eyes get bigger.

“They made movies about this?” She holds it up.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Three. I’ve never read the book, though. Let me know how it is.”

“I’m gonna start it tonight after dinner. Did you ever see the movies, Joel?”

He doesn’t answer, too focused on you.

“Earth to Joel,” she says, leaning forward to wave her hand in front of his eyes, his head turning towards her quickly.

“Did you say somethin’?” he asks.

“Yeah.” She’s grinning, clearly amused. “You know, if you stare at her any harder, she might catch on fire.”

His eyebrows dip down.

“I wasn’t starin’,” he grumbles, his elbows on the table while he takes a bite, looking at his can.

“Jesus, Joel, I was not prepared for you being a lovesick fool. It’s honestly gross. Thank god you weren’t like this with Tess.”

His head snaps up as you tense, knowing she’s mentioned that name before.

“That’s enough, Ellie.” His tone’s severe.

You look at him, your eyebrows pinched together.

“Who’s Tess?” you ask.

Ellie’s eyes go big.

“Oh, shit,” she says. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t realize she didn’t know.”

“Who’s Tess?” you ask again.

“It’s alright, Ellie,” He sighs, long and loud, running a hand through his hair. He looks at you. “Tess was my old partner in Boston. She, uh, died on the trip to bring Ellie to the Fireflies.”

“Oh,” you reply, nodding. “The one you’d mentioned. I’m sorry she didn’t make it.”

“It’s just how these things go,” he says.

“Your girlfriend died…” you say slowly. “You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

He grimaces.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Well, I’m going to finish eating upstairs,” Ellie says, the chair scraping across the floor as she gets up quickly. “You two need to be alone.”

He looks at her.

“You don’t gotta do that,” he replies.

“No, no,” she says, grabbing her can and book. “I am so happy not to be a part of this.” She briskly walks away.

He sighs, pressing his hands to his face.

“What do you mean it wasn’t like that?” you ask. “If you were partners—clearly romantic…”

Meeting your gaze, he answers, “It wasn’t romantic. We cared about each other, we kept each other alive, and occasionally fucked, but there was nothing romantic about it. I didn’t feel that way about her, and can probably count on one hand how many times we even kissed. I didn’t love her. I couldn’t love her.”

You know the answer before you even ask the question, and still, it catches you by surprise.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Because she wasn’t you.”

“Joel,” you whisper.

“You were it for me. You were always it for me, and if I couldn’t have you, then I didn’t want anyone else.”

“It was the same for me,” you reply. “Felt cruel to try and be with someone when I could never love them, so I just didn’t.”

“Yeah. I was always upfront about what I was willin’ to give.”

“Gotta set expectations.” You nod. “Don’t want to hurt feelings.”

He lets out a long breath, looking away.

“Still got hurt anyway.”

“Honestly, if you told me not to fall in love with you, I think I’d just fall harder, so it makes sense.” You shrug. “You’re still a goddamn dreamboat of a man.”

His eyes meet yours again, crookedly smiling.

“Dreamboat?” he asks.

“God, yeah. Look at you. The grey is sexy, and my god, I think you have more muscles than when we were together.”

There’s a change in his gaze, seeing his eyes go darker.

“You wanna find out?” he asks.

“Um, yes, I would very much like to do a study and compare it to previous findings.”

He nods, pointing at your can.

“Finish eatin’.”

“But—”

“Dinner first,” he cuts you off. “Then you can check me out. Gonna need your energy.” He winks, and you gulp, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache as you do as he says, both of you finishing your food in silence.

Ellie’s upstairs, and the two of you are alone down here, anticipation welling up inside you because you know at some point, everything between you both will finally erupt, and you can tell it’s going to be explosive.

He leans back in his chair when he finishes, resting his hands behind his head, his eyes on yours, waiting for you, and smiling when you push your can away.

His voice is deeper, drawl more pronounced when he speaks. “I was gonna stay down here and keep watch for the night,” he rasps. “You’re more than welcome to rest upstairs if you’re tired.”

He says one thing, but those darkened eyes of his say another.

“We both know I’m staying with you.”

Smiling, he replies, “I hoped you would.”

“There’s no furniture, so we’ll have to get comfortable on the floor.”

“If I remember correctly, you quite enjoyed the floor.” He smirks.

You suck in a breath, memories of the two of you being so turned on by the time you got back to your house, you didn’t make it past the entryway, him fucking you on the rug.

Your skin is burning up, clearing your throat.

“I’ll grab us some pillows from upstairs,” you say, the chair making noise as you get up.

He nods, “Okay.”

Quickly you’re moving, taking the stairs two at a time, figuring out which room Ellie’s in with the door shut, glad she chose one on the other side of the house and managing to find four pillows in the other rooms, hugging them to your chest as you return to Joel.

He’s looking out the living room window, his body tense, taking in his profile, his attention shifting to you when he hears your footsteps.

The center of the living room is bare, the lone couch against the front door, the coffee table pushed against a wall, leaving the space between you and him empty, stopping in your tracks when he faces you.

His shoulders visibly relax, the two of you stuck in place, staring at each other with looks like you cannot believe the other is there and alive. Years of thinking you’d never see one another again, and now you’re in the same room, breathing the same air, feeling so relieved and happy.

Something shifts, both of you realizing you’re alone and don’t have to fear any interruptions, the energy igniting, eyes going dark with want—all of the hours you’ve spent together building up the tension for this very moment, it snapping with the pillows falling to the floor, unable to keep away from each other any longer, closing the distance in quick steps.

His hands cup your face when he reaches you, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, feeling his happiness, his joy, each press of his lips telling you he’s happy you’re alive and here with him. The passion has your fingers threading into his grey waves of hair for something to hold onto, gasping when he eagerly licks into your mouth, him groaning when his tongue slides along your own. Your blood is singing in your veins at how right it feels, how familiar it is, twenty years, and you still know how to kiss each other, finding your rhythm, not able to get enough, both so greedy you don’t stop until your lungs ache for oxygen, coming up for air with gasping breaths.

He’s kissing along your jaw, speaking into your skin, “I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

“I missed you, too. Every goddamn day.”

Hands start wandering, needing to feel each other; he’s squeezing and touching anything he can; you’re working the buttons on his shirt and pushing it open to touch his warm skin, mapping out his muscles and the scars littered all over his torso that weren’t there before, wanting to kiss each and every one.

He’s sucking at your pulse point, palming your breast, his other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin buzzing, arousal pooling in your belly.

“I love you,” he rasps as his lips meet yours again. “Never stopped lovin’ you,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too,” your words muffled, moaning when his hand finds its way between your legs, cupping your sex.

“I need you,” he says between kisses. “I’m so fuckin’ hard.” He grabs your hand to press it to his bulge, feeling him straining against his zipper, your cunt clenching at the reminder of just how big he is.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “I’ve missed your dick.”

“I’ve missed bein’ inside you. Wanna feel you again.”

As great as that sounds, your drenched panties indicating just how much you want it—there’s one small problem.

You pull back to see his eyes at half mast and glazed over in lust.

“We can’t fuck,” you say.

He frowns, eyebrows pinching together.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I love you, Joel. I love you a whole hell of a lot—would die for you, but you haven’t showered in days, you’re literally a walking UTI, and as much as I’d love to have that big dick inside me, I am not, risking an infection.” His frown goes deeper. “We can do other stuff, though!” you continue, and that gets his attention. “Hand stuff—no blow job until you’re clean,” you quickly add. He’s thinking it over, the wheels turning.

“I get it,” he finally responds. “You’re the doctor. You know what you’re talkin’ about. After a good scrub, you’d wanna?” he asks, looking hopeful.

“God, yes. I’m praying there’s someplace to wash when we get to Tommy’s.”

He smiles.

“They’ve got workin’ water in the houses—hot water. I can take a shower to get all nice and clean for you, and I’m sure he’ll set us up someplace with a bed.”

“Nobody better need us for a day or two, then,” you say, hooking your arms around his neck. “We won’t be leaving it.”

“Is that so?” He crookedly smiles.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve got time to make up for, and I want to feel you for days.”

He kisses your chin, lightly nibbling on it before trailing along your jaw to your neck.

“You gonna let me fuck you full of me? Fill you up?”

“Until I’m stuffed,” you moan, pussy pulsing at his words.

“Fuck,” Joel groans. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“You love it, though.”

His head comes up, looking you in the eyes.

“Love you more,” he rasps, kissing you hard with his hands on your waist, thumbs playing with the waistband of your scrub pants. “When’s the last time you showered?” His question said into your lips.

“This morning.”

“Thank Christ.”

It’s disorienting how suddenly he pulls back, confusion on your face as he bends, roughly pulling your panties and pants down your legs.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you ask as the cool air hits your bare skin.

“I can’t fuck you, but you didn’t say anything about my mouth.”

He unties your shoes, sending them thudding across the floor.

“You’re gonna eat me out?” you gasp. “Right here.”

You have to hold onto his shoulders for balance as he gets your lower half undressed.

“Right fuckin’ here.”

Once you’re naked from the waist down, he’s groaning as he gets up, kissing you quickly before he moves the short distance to grab a pillow, letting it fall to the floor beside you when he returns, watching as he discards his shirt, and unbuckles his pants, getting them undone.

You can tell he has a plan, knowing exactly what he wants, and you’re happy to go along for the ride. A surprised sound leaves your mouth when he kisses you hard, all tongues and teeth, his body pressed to yours, his hand squeezing your bare ass, while the other moves down your front, moaning when blunt fingers slip through your folds.

“Fuck, you get so wet for me,” he says into your lips.

Your heart is thudding, pleasure radiating in your core as he pushes through your wetness, moaning when he circles your clit, unable to stop from canting your hips into his hand.

“Fuckin’ needy for me, baby.” He nips at your lip before kissing you hungrily, swallowing your soft sounds while your fingers grip his hair.

It’s been so long, and it feels just like you remember. Joel still knows how to play your body, gathering moisture on two fingertips to work against your bundle of nerves, applying the right pressure, circling it just how you liked, his tongue sliding along your own, heightening the arousal, building you up.

With your eyes closed, it feels like you’re back in that little house you had in Austin, him stopping by on his lunch break for a quickie, you both too horny to bother going to the bedroom.

“Wanna feel you come on my hand,” he murmurs.

You whine when he presses one thick finger into you, your hands gripping tighter in his grey waves, when the second one pushes in alongside it, stretching your walls and easing the ache of emptiness.

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moan. “It feels so good.”

He pumps his digits, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking them, it sounding obscene between your legs, him working them in and out, filling you over and over again. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing it while his fingers work; every nerve in your body lit up, fire burning in your belly, knowing this was going to be quick.

Your tongues are tangling, lost in what he’s doing to you, how he’s making you feel, memories of the past, happiness for the future now that he’s here, all of it overwhelming you, rocketing you towards your release, and he knows your close, has always been able to tell.

His mouth separates from yours to speak, “Open your eyes, baby. Wanna see you come.”

You do as he says, seeing his so dark only a sliver of brown remain, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. Panting breaths filling the air, hearing his fingers, Joel taking up your vision, focusing on him, and only him, the world dropping away, everything else forgotten.

He crooks his fingers, and a second later, he’s hitting nirvana, a strangled moan pulled from your throat, your legs going wobbly at the white-hot jolt of pleasure, him having to hold you against him with his other arm to keep you standing.

“There it fuckin’ is,” he rasps. “Come for me—soak my fingers, baby.”

You tumble over the edge with a cry of his name, waves of your arousal spilling around his digits as you tense up, clenching down on him hard, your body alight in ecstasy.

“So good to me,” he groans. “My good fuckin’ girl.”

His mouth is back on yours, kissing you deeply as he works you through your orgasm, every muscle in your body relaxing, brain a pleasurable haze.

God, you’ve missed him. It’s been way too long since you’ve come that hard, and now that you’ve gotten one, you want more, need more.

He breaks the kiss, removing his fingers from you, and you miss them already.

He’s crookedly grinning, eyes bright.

“Do I still got it?” he asks cheekily.

You giggle, playfully slapping at his naked chest.

“Yes, you’ve still got it,” you reply. “Played me like a goddamn fiddle. Haven’t come like that since…” Your eyes squint while you think. “Well, fuck,” you say. “Haven’t come like that since you.”

His chest puffs up in pride, and it makes you snort.

He steals a kiss.

“Fuckin’ glad I didn’t forget how you like your pussy touched.”

“Obviously, it was important to your survival—gotta know how to shoot a gun and finger pussy.”

He chuckles, moving to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah. Lemme see if I remember how to eat it,” he husks, seeing the hunger in his gaze as he lewdly sucks you off his fingers with a groan making your cunt clench. His digits leave his mouth, “Taste even better than I remember. Can I eat your pussy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding your head.

Thinking about it, you’re pretty sure the last person who gave you oral was Joel. Your body is thrumming in anticipation, feeling your arousal coating your inner thighs, excited because you know it will be good.

He crookedly smiles, tenderly kissing you before he gets onto the floor, his head on the pillow while he lays on his back.

This is where you get confused because you should be the one in that position, right?

Tapping on his chest, he says, “I need you to sit right here.”

That’s when it hits what he wants, and your eyes go wide.

“Joel, we are old. I’ll break your neck.”

He makes a face.

“Stop that. You’re not gonna break my neck. Just cause we’ve aged doesn’t mean you can’t sit on my face.”

“My knees would disagree.”

“That’s what the pillow’s for,” he smirks, patting it.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say, moving to sit where he indicated.

Did you think this was a bad idea? Definitely, but the man is so damn eager that you can’t help but want to give it a go.

He’s looking up at you, his hands on your hips.

“Remember how I like it?” he asks.

“Basically suffocating between my thighs?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly,” he replies, slapping your ass and making you squeak.

“If you need to tap out, you better fucking do it, Joel.”

“Of course, baby. Now get up ‘ere. It’s been twenty years too long since I’ve tasted your pussy.”

“Well, aren’t you just rarin’ to go,” you tease.

“Givin’ me shit about how old I am, and now you’re makin’ fun of how I talk?” He smacks your ass again. “Bad girl. Stop hollerin’ down a well, darlin’, and ride my face—I’m rarin’ to eat your pretty little cunt.”

Your head falls back as you laugh, not at all surprised when hands grab onto your ass and start scooting you closer to his waiting mouth, Joel manhandling you into position.

“That was the most yeehaw you’ve ever sounded,” you giggle, your knees sinking into the cushiony pillow on either side of his head, appreciating that he thought to grab it.

You’re sitting up, hovering over his mouth, shivering when there’s a wet streak of lips pressing kisses along your inner thigh, savoring the scratch of his beard.

Fuck, he’s gonna have you coming quickly; you just know it with how your pussy is throbbing.

“You know I don’t fuckin’ talk like that,” he says below you, kissing your other thigh.

His hands are gripped tight on the globes of your ass, squeezing your plump flesh.

“No, you don—“ the word breaks into a moan as he pulls you down, breathing you in, the hot air ghosting over your sensitive flesh, sparks dancing in your center when he nudges your clit with his nose.

His voice is muffled, “Smell better than I remember,” he groans. “Gotta taste. Sit.”

He’s helping you lower down until you’re touching his skin, not satisfied until his face is fully buried in your sex. You scrabble for something to hold onto at the first swipe of his tongue, your fingers landing in his hair.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

One taste and he becomes ravenous, his loud groans vibrating against your heat, obscenely licking and sucking, his hands guiding you so he can slurp up every last drop of your arousal he can get, drinking down everything he can, relishing in the prickle of his facial hair.

It’s so much better than you ever could’ve imagined, the man feasting on you like a starving man, rocking your hips, his fingers digging into your ass, humming appreciatively as electricity ignites under your skin, body vibrating, Joel working you up.

You’re gasping his name, feeling your orgasm build. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, the pleasure causing your eyes to roll back in your head, moaning loudly, tightening your fingers in his grey waves.

“I’m so close,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck, Joel. It’s so good. You’re so fucking good. I’ve missed you.” You’re so drunk on what he’s doing, you’re rambling. “I’ve missed this. Don’t stop. Make me come.”

You feel him groaning, Joel doubling down and focusing on your bundle of nerves—sucking it, licking it, lips and tongue worshipping you until you’re cresting, body seizing up as euphoria floods your system with a gasp of his name.

His loud, long groan vibrates against your sex, his mouth moving to drink your release straight from the source, pushing his tongue inside of you as deep as possible, licking into you eagerly, wanting to get every little bit of you as he can.

Your body’s trembling, pussy fluttering, panting out breaths, feeling so fucking good as Joel helps you ride out your high.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this much pleasure, and it’s intoxicating. You’re used to getting yourself off with your hand when the need arises and have only had a few partners over the years—the sex always quick and to the point, an orgasm never guaranteed, and here was Joel making you come twice in less than an hour.

He’s spoiling you, you’re addicted, you never want him to leave.

Broad strokes of his tongue through your slippery folds has your back arching, surprised he’s still going, knowing it must be hard to breathe down there. Your body is scorching, feeling like you’re burning from the inside out as he licks every inch of you, reacquainting himself with your cunt.

He lifts you up a little, and you hear him take a big breath.

“Ride my tongue, baby.” His voice is rough, strained. “Use me to get yourself off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m damn sure.” He smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and use me.”

You suck in a breath, pussy squeezing hard around nothing. He doesn’t let you reply, sticking his tongue out and pulling you down on top of it.

Your legs are closed around his head, his beard scratching against your thighs, hanging onto his hair for balance.

Grinding yourself against the flat of his tongue, he lets out a long broken moan, his grip on your ass tightening as you do as he asks, chasing your pleasure, using him, still so sensitive from your previous orgasms that the familiar heat was already growing in the base of your spine.

His mouth is hot and wet, working yourself up, pressing your clit hard against his muscle, moaning at the sparks of electricity shooting through you as you rubbed along it over and over again.

He’s groaning loudly beneath you, and you can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, going faster, eyes squeezed shut, panting out moans. You know your skin will be tender from his beard, and you don’t care—this is worth it, your pleasure heightening, muscles in your belly beginning to tighten, Joel drowning in your pussy.

The sensations overtake you, everything coming together, falling over the edge with a cry of his name. Your legs are squeezing his head so tight as the wave of pleasure rolls through you, starting in your core and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes.

Joel makes a strangled noise beneath you that has your eyes flying open, almost falling on your face as you quickly move off of him, ending up with your ass on his chest, looking down at him between your legs, your heart hammering in fear that you killed him—his eyes are closed, face completely lax, and glistening from your juices, his arms laying limply at his sides.

“Joel?” You pat his cheek. “I swear to god, Joel, if you die from suffocating in my pussy, I am bringing you back to life to kill you myself.”

“Not dead,” he slurs, eyes still closed.

“Thank god.” You rub your thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, sliding your fingers into the hair over his ears, him humming contentedly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Came so fuckin’ hard.”

Your eyes widen, looking behind you to find his softened cock out of his jeans and resting on his stomach, streaks of come painting his skin.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Looking back at him, you ask in disbelief, “You got off from eating me out?”

“Yeah.” He smiles dreamily. “Fuckin’ love your pussy. Missed it so much.”

You snort, rubbing your finger down the bridge of his nose. With him so relaxed, he looks like your Joel from twenty years ago, and it makes your heart squeeze over all of the time you missed with him.

What would’ve been different if you’d been together when the world ended? Would Sarah be alive? Would the two of you have still survived all these years?

You let the questions disappear as quickly as they came because there’s no point in pondering them. What happened, happened. You’re just thankful that by some miracle you found him again, that you both are now determined to stick together and live whatever days you have left by each other's sides.

“Aren’t you a romantic.” You trace over his wet lips, which are surprisingly soft.

His hand comes up to grasp yours gently, his practically encompassing yours. Featherlight kisses are pressed to each of your knuckles and, finally, your palm. His eyes blink open, all heavy-lidded to look at you.

“Fuckin’ love you more,” he says softly.

You feel yourself melt under his tender gaze, seeing the truth in the dark depths of his eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you guys done fucking?!” Ellie yells from upstairs.

Joel’s eyes go wide, cheeks turning red, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Give us a minute!” you reply.

“Okay!”

“Don’t look so embarrassed, Joel,” you say to him, tapping the tip of his nose. “It’s not the first time we’ve been caught, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”

He groans, pressing his hands to his face.

His words are muffled, “It’s just as embarrassin’ today as it was twenty fuckin’ years ago.”

“Hey, look on the bright side, babe. Ellie didn’t see anything. Remember how scarred Sarah was that one morning you forgot to lock the door? Thank god we were under the covers, but I thought she’d need therapy.”

“Don’t remind me,” he replies, looking at you again. “Taught her to knock, though.”

“Yeah, it did.”

There’s a lot of groaning as you both get up from the floor, knees not as young as they once were, Joel and you agreeing that maybe you guys should stick to fucking on furniture. After a quick search of the downstairs, you’re able to find a relatively clean towel for Joel to clean up with; you're already dressed. He hollers at Ellie that it’s safe to come down after his shirt is put back on and pants are righted.

She stomps down the stairs like she wants to make sure the two of you know she’s on her way, you and Joel standing by the dining table, passing a bottle of water between each other.

She covers her eyes with one hand when she enters the living room.

Joel huffs out an amused breath, shaking his head as he takes a drink when he sees her.

“There’s zero nudity, Ellie,” you reassure her. “It’s safe to look.”

She uncovers her eyes, “Can’t be too safe,” she says. “Last thing I want is to have to gauge my eyes out because I saw Joel’s old ass.” She makes a disgusted face, and you laugh, Joel snorting.

“What happened to spendin’ the evenin’ readin’ your new book?” Joel asks her.

“Ran out of water,” she answers, holding up her water bottle. “I’m fucking thirsty. Please tell me, one of you has extra.”

“Yes!” you respond, turning to get into your bag and grabbing a container of water. “Here you go, kiddo.”

She’s briskly walking over to take it, unscrewing it right away to take a few big gulps, sighing happily when she finishes.

“Fuck, that’s good,” she says, wiping at her mouth. Ellie looks between you both. “Thought I was gonna be stuck up there all night. So, based on how you were all over each other in the truck and the disgusting noises that I wish I could unhear, I’ll take it, Doc, and you are back together?” she asks Joel.

His ears are bright red, clearing his throat.

“That we are,” he answers, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you fucking blushing?” she teases.

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her.

“I’m just giving you shit, Joel. Hopefully, she can help pull that stick out of your ass.”

He sighs, and she laughs.

“I’m happy for you, ya big ol’ grump. Doc’s great! I see why you like her, and Jesus, I’m not into sappy romantic bullshit, but you guys have a great fucking story.”

“We really do,” you say, looking at him and finding his eyes are already on you.

“That we do,” he agrees, a soft smile on his lips, leaning in to kiss you.

“Oh, gross.” Ellie sounds disgusted, fake gagging. “I’m going back upstairs. I don’t wanna see this, and I definitely don’t wanna hear anything, so please keep it down. Yuck.” She doesn’t wait for a response, walking away.

You pull apart, looking at Joel.

“We’ve scarred another kid,” you laugh.

“I don’t think, too bad, though,” he chuckles.

“No, not too bad. Now, if she saw your old ass, she’d definitely need therapy.”

He frowns.

“My ass ain’t old.”

“I mean…” you pause, leaning to look behind him at it. “It’s still really nice. Like my god, you could bounce a quarter off it, and the way that I wanna touch it.” You straighten, meeting his eyes. “After you shower and I can get you naked, I am absolutely getting a closer look.”

He smirks, setting the water bottle down on the table, so he can pull you into his arms.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah.”

His head moves closer, hovering his lips over yours.

“When I can get you naked,” he rasps, “I’m spreadin’ you out on a bed and spendin’ hours between your legs, usin’ all that God gave me to make you come so many times you pass out.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You know it is, baby.” His lips meet yours, kissing the air from your lungs.

Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#pedro pascal #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #September series #wheresarizona writes

2K notes · View notes

thehusbandoden · 9 months

Text

You Flinch During an Argument -Kirishima Eijiro

A/n: this took me way too long, so sorry for the wait 🥺🥺

Holy crap this is long.. hope you enjoy this madness <33

General info:

Genre: angst to fluff/comfort // WC: 2,516

Warnings!: Arguing, one sided argument, mean reader, insecurity, self hate, slight self harm (grabbing at hair), mention of bullies, crying, flinching, and a lot of apologizing. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

(it took forever to find this specific gif 💔)

"Y/n- I said that I was sorrry!"

"And I said I don't care anymore!"

"Y/n, please! You're being unreasonable!"

"I'm being unreasonable?! I HAVE ASKED YOU FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS - YOU ARE SUCH A-"

"Y/n, calm down, you don’t want to say something you'll regret."

"You suck. You're a pig headed, selfish, work obsessed, slobby, jerk."

Kirishima was silent as you insulted him, part of him feeling like he deserved it all.

"Okay, y/n, I understand that I screwed up. And I know that I can't make it all better overnight, but please. You can not drive right now."

"And why not? It's not like I'm under any influence."

"Y/n, it's dark and rainy. That, plus your anger- is a sure way to kill both of us. I can not live without you, Pebble."

"Do not call me that." You seethe, glaring up at your redheaded husband.

Heart aching, Kirishima desperately thought of a way to keep you here with him, not knowing how he would cope if he lost you due to some stupid argument about cleaning.

"J-just stay here tonight. You can sleep in our bed, and I'll sleep downstairs. I won't talk to you, and if you still want to go in the morning, I won't stop you. If you're still angry, Ochako can come pick you up."

Considering the idea, you huff as you cross your arms, glaring at Kiri.

"Fine.. but I have a few conditions. On top of not talking to me, you will not touch, nor look at me. Deal?"

"If you hand me your keys, deal."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Or at least put them somewhere visible."

"Fine, deal."

"Deal." Kiri agreed, shaking your outstretched hand.

After you walked in Kiri waited a minute or so before following pursuit, closing and locking the front door with a relieved sigh- simply happy that you agreed on staying here for tonight.

After picking up the living room and washing the dishes, Kirishima deemed it okay to go upstairs to swiftly get ready for bed.

As Eijiro thought about your side of the argument his heart started weighing him down with guilt.

He truly didn't mean to be such a jerk. He didn't think about how overworked and exhausted you were.

In his head, he was going above and beyond picking up after himself, doing the dishes every other day, taking out the trash, folding both his clothes and the fitted sheets, and cooking breakfast almost every morning. He didn't think about the other household chores, how much work caring for the house took, nor how long and hard you worked on top of the house.

You worked shorter hours then he did, that's true, but you still worked hard and desperately tried to be patient with him. For over a month you've been gently asking him to help out more or do this and that for you.

When you asked him to do a specific thing he truly did try his best to get it done as soon as possible. Pausing his game to take out the trash, setting reminders to switch the laundry on his days off, scrubbing pots and pans late at night, and watering the plants most every morning before work.

But he didn't understand when you asked him to 'do more', he thought that he was doing a lot more than average, totally forgetting to consider that you work too and he's not the sole provider.

You had gotten really annoyed with how much you did in the house and how little he did in comparison, and confronted him once again after he got home from work.

He was quite confused and defended himself, not really seeing your side of things. It took ten minutes of arguing back and forth to actually understand your side of things, realizing that due to you both providing you both needed to tend to the house.

Guilt consumed him as he attempted to apologize again and again yet you wouldn't let him talk. After twenty minutes of this one sidedness you got angry and stormed out, telling him that you were going to Ochako's house.

Even though Kiri felt extremely guilty, he was mostly relieved that you didn't leave in these conditions, knowing that he wouldn't be able to function if he lost you for good.

Kiri was snapped out of his thoughts due to the tingling feelings of his hands going numb due to the cold water pouring onto them.

Sighing, Kiri turned off the water before sneakily grabbing a spare blanket, his pillow, and a pair of pajama bottoms from your shared bedroom, refusing to look at you as he hurried out of the dark room.

After changing and settling on the couch Kiri simply stared at the ceiling, going over your side of things and realising how much he screwed up and what he could do to change and start to make it up to you.

You jolted awake as a large crashing sound came from downstairs, hurrying out of bed, you readied your quirk in case of a villain.

"Ei..? Is that you?" You call, poking your head out into the kitchen.

"Yeah- sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay.. but what happene-" you froze as you saw Kirishima on the floor, shattered dishware surrounding him.

"Eijiro what the heck!" You exclaim, reaching out your arm to try and help the pro hero.

"I- I was trying to clean.. I'm sorry.."

At the word 'clean' memories of last night flooded your mind, causing you to drop your hand to your side, irritation flooding your senses.

"Oh, so now you're trying to make three months of neglectness and excuses better in one night?"

"N-no! Not at all! I just wanted to start helping out more!"

"It's three months too late for that Eijiro."

"You're being unreasonable-"

"No! What's unreasonable is you and your selfish laziness!"

"I'm trying! We're both new to living together and I didn't understand before!"

"Whatever. Just get up and go. I'll have to clean up and stop by the store before work."

"What- no! I'll clean it up!" Kiri exclaimed, jumping up from the ground, hardening his skin so he wouldn't get cut.

Shards of glass bounced off of Kiri's hardened skin, flying everywhere. Luckily, you were a pro hero, and had the amazing reflexes that came from that line of work. You dived down, avoiding the injury you would've received.

"Y-y/n! Are you okay?!" Kirishima exclaimed, rushing to your side.

Seeing the sudden movement you flinched, body still under alert.

After realizing what happened your heart dropped.

Oh no.

Kirishima was a gentle soul. He cared for you deeply and was always looking for ways to make your life easier and more enjoyable. There is no way he would take this lightly. He would definitely paint a wor-

You were snapped out of your thought process at the sound of a door closing. Panicking, you realized that Kirishima was xgonex.

"Ei!?" You call, hurrying to check for him in the living room, quickly realising that he left. Panicking, you hurry to slip on some slippers before making your way out the door, rushing to Kirishima's truck before he could pull out.

"Ei wait!" You exclaim, putting one hand on the handle of the truck and the other on his window. After looking down at you, he bit his lip before slightly opening the window so he could hear you.

"Go back in the house Pebble.." Kiri whispered, causing your heart to ache in dismay.

"Eijiro- what's wrong? I wasn't scared of you it was a reaction from the-"

"I don't care y/n. You flinched because of me- I- I need some time."

You could feel tears stinging your eyes as you stepped back, biting your lip as you watched Kirishima put the truck in reverse and slowly back out of the driveway, face heavy with hurt.

As soon as the red truck disappeared from sight you broke, running into the house before falling onto the couch, sobbing into a pillow.

The angered words you spat at your sweet, loving Eijiro flashed through your mind as you cried, guilt weighing you down as you remembered Kiri's heart broken face. Your mind started playing against you, shouting at you for your selfish, idiotic words and how you hurt the one person you cared most about.

'He didn't do anything!'

'You stupid little- he was doing his best! He apologized! And yet you treated him so- so horribly due to a few mistakes!'

'He really doesn't derseve you. He deserves someone as patient and loving as he is.'

'He was so heartbroken! You idiot!'

'I bet he's going to find somone better then you. I would't blaim him either.'

Tears rolled down your face as you sat up to stare at a picture of Eijiro on your wedding day. His red eyes were sparkling as he grinned at the camera, feeling nothing but joy and such love for you.

You two met in elementary school. You saved him from some bullies yada yada and instantly became friends. He was in third grade, you were in second. Your grade difference meant that you didn't get to play much, and so you thought of him as one of your temporary friends. The kind that you met at a park, played once, and then forgot about one another the next day.

But he was.. special. There was something about how the older boy's eyes shone when he looked at you, or how strong he seemed even though he was in tears frequently. You quickly found out that he was special. Even compared to your best friend, Sakura Mei.

You admired him for many reasons. For trying to be so strong even though the bullies' mean words brought him to tears, for how kind he wa -giving up his hard earned treat to a little toddler who wanted it at pick-up, sharing his lunch with a kid that was too late to get his own, having shorter turns so the next kid would get it sooner, and helping his teacher whenever and however possible.

You two became best friends and played with each other after school, causing your parents to create a long lasting friendship as well. For years you thought of him as your best friend, but a crush started to form in middle school, causing you to get confused.

Even when Kiri started to get self conscious and have a lot of self doubt, he was always by your side. Scolding you for having any of those thoughts, no matter how small. And so in return you helped him. Helping with training, bringing him food and water, reassuring him when he needed it, and even holding him as he cried. You were the reason he was able to recover so quickly, and afterwards he got into UA highschool, and you followed pursuit the next year.

After eight months of high school he confessed, and that was it. After you graduated he was there to cheer you on the loudest, and seven months later he proposed. The day of your wedding was full of joy, laughter, tears, smiles, and love. A love that made your chest ache in happiness, causing you to smile a little wider, kiss him a little harder, and fall in love a little harder.

Thinking back about it now, your tears came faster as an aching cold spread through your chest, causing the tears to fall faster.

"Eijiro.." you whimper, hugging onto the shark pillow Eijiro insisted on getting for your newly bought home.

It was crazy expensive, but he told you not to worry about it, and that it was "for our future famly".

"Ei.. I'm so sorry!" You cry, grasping your hair in your hands, tugging lightly but knowing not to hurt yourself or Kiri would be upest and worried.

Pawing for your phone, you unlocked the device before calling the contact "Bakubeast".

"What do you need." Bakugo huffed, causing you to whimper softly, catching the hot head's attention.

"Woah woah- do not cry. Crappy hair would kill me."

"I- I- E- Eijiro-" you rasp, having difficulty breathing and getting your point across.

"Hey hey- y/n calm down." Bakugo panicked, his softer tone helpig you calm down.

He was a good friend of both you and Eijiro, so him being kind to you really did help.

"Y/n/n, breathe."

Gasping for air you try to control your breathing, taking one deep breathe after another.

"Atta girl. Keep on breathing for m- for Eijiro."

Calm washed over you as you exhaled, sighing shakily.

"T-thank you." You whisper, causing Bakugo to scoff.

"Yeah yeah- now why are ya crying? Do I need to kicks some a-"

"No. It's me, not him. I'm wondering, is Ei over there? H-he left and I'm worried about him."

"No he hasn't. When did he leave? You do know that I'm like twenty minutes away, right?"

"That's true.. it's only been around ten.."

"I'll call you if he pulls up. But if you don't mind me asking.. what happened?"

"I'm sure Ei will explain.. I really don't wanna talk about it right now.."

"Okay.. well hang in there and call me if you need."

"Yeah.. okay."

"Have a better night, talk to ya later."

"Mhm.. bye.."

~~Kiri's pov~~

Kirishima felt like screaming.

Even though he knew that you weren't scared of him and it was just a reaction from the glass but it still hurt.

After pulling into his best friend's drive way, Eijiro quickly made his way to the door and knocked, wanting the hot head's opinion and seeking comfort.

"What happened to you?" Bakugo scoffed, opening his door as an invitation to come in.

"Can we.. talk?"

"If you make things right between you and your Cry Baby afterwards- then yes."

~~Your pov~~

You sniffled as you clung to Kirishima's pillow, eyes dry and puffy.

It's been an hour since Bakugo texted him that Kirishima was at his place, and you've been waiting for him to return or at least an update.

Your heart ached and you wanted nothing more than to be in Eijiro's arms and forget all about this horrid arugment. What if he didn't want you anymore.. what if-

You jumped out of bed as soon as you heard the door open, sprinting down the stairs to meet your Eijiro.

"Baby!" You exclaim, jumping into Eijiro's arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you attacked his shoulders, neck, cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips with kisses.

"I am so sorry! I- I said so many mean things to you and- and-"

"Woah woah Baby- calm down." Eijiro cooed, catching your lips in a kiss to distract you from your worries. "I know.. and I forgive you, so.. could you forgive me?"

"Yes! Yes- I am so sorry for-"

Catching your lips in another kiss, Kiri sat on the couch, holding you in his lap as he kissed you, stealing both his and your complete attention.

Reblogs help spread and support my work therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated<33

Series' masterlist | Kiri's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation

Tips <3

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

Sorry again for how late this was.. I hope it wasn't too long :(

691 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 4 days

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty Five

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I AM SO FUCKING SORRY IT TOOK ME ALMOST TWO MONTHS TO UPDATE. I love you all for sticking with us through this terrible lull. But I promise(well hope to) not go so long in between updates again. Hopefully, it was well worth the wait.

Also, please let me know if the tags didn't work. Tumblr has been a pain in my ass with them lately and with how many of you wanted to be tagged, I want to make sure I didn't miss any!

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @teenblues @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @krisslee18 @xxkittenkissesxx @happi-goth @embracethereaper42 @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @bloody-delusion-expert @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @a1ex-ba1ex @sideeyenoah @emzandthevoid @badomensls @bellaboo967 @waake-mee-up @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave

READER

I hummed along to the tune that played on the speakers, swaying my hips, as I moved around the room helping Matt set up the equipment.

“You don’t have to help, Y/N. You should sit and relax,” Matt said while I handed him a specific cord he was looking for to hook up to one of the speakers.

I shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve always been a workhorse so the idea of sitting on my ass while you all are working doesn’t feel right.”

He smiled. “Have I mentioned that you and Noah are perfect for each other?”

“Once or twice,” I shrugged with a hint of a smirk.

There was a faraway look in Matt’s eyes, one I’ve recognized all too well; loneliness.

“Hey,” I nudged him with an elbow. “Everything alright?”

He let out a long breath before adjusting his hat, keeping his eyes cast down at his laptop, the program he uses for mixing the songs up on the screen.

“Promise not to tell the guys? I don’t need them giving me shit for it,” he said.

Immediately I nodded and crossed my heart so he continued. “I see what all of you guys have and sometimes, a part of me wonders if I’ll ever get anything even close to it.”

I frowned. “Matt, you will! I don’t want to sound cliche, but that person for you is out there. They’ll show up when you stop looking. Neither Noah nor I were looking for a relationship, and look where we are now. It wasn’t an easy or short road by any means but we got here.”

“It might be too late for me,” he grumbled under his breath before clicking away at his computer. Just as my lips moved to say something, Noah’s voice came through the speakers in the room.

“Angel, I love you.”

My cheeks burned as I glanced over at him with a wide smile to which he shrugged.

“I had to test if the microphones worked,” he said.

“Right,” I giggled while walking over to the area of the room that was set up for band rehearsals.

Bad Omens were going on tour in two weeks, the first one since they rebranded themselves with this new era. Everyone was nervous because they wanted to make sure everything went perfectly. Part of me felt sad and guilty that I wasn’t able to go on the first set of shows because Hollow Souls had media planned.

That may be why I kept trying to help out any way I could with the rehearsals; to show Noah and everyone else that I supported them.

However, I did plan on meeting Noah for the last three shows, which seemed to ease the sadness on his face. We’d only ever gone a few days without seeing each other since we got together, so now that we were about to go without seeing each other for nearly two weeks, my heart hurt.

Cheesy, but it was true.

Noah’s hands immediately found my hips and brought me close to him, my hands resting on his chest.

“What’s wrong with Matt?” He nodded behind me.

I played with the strings of his Hereditary sweatshirt. We just watched the movie with Jolly and Astrid last night, and my brain was still swirling with the ending.

“I think he’s starting to feel a little alone. He sees us, Jolly and Astrid, Jesse and Maxine, and starts to feel like he missed his time,” I said under my breath so others wouldn’t hear.

The corner of Noah’s mouth pulled down on a line as he kept his eyes on Matt.

“Maybe the tour will help clear his mind,” he said with a sad sigh.

“Oh, about that,” I pulled the string of his hoodie again to pull his attention to me. “Are you still upset that I'm stealing Lana from you guys?”

He chuckled before squeezing my hips. “No, angel. Hollow Souls need her more than Bad Omens do. Plus, she found a replacement for her so Bryan doesn’t have to do most of the photography. I think it’s Lana’s cousin.”

“Good because Malcolm felt like shit. But we don’t have a full-time photographer and want to get these promo shots out as soon as possible. Lana accepted before she knew about your tour-.”

Noah hushed my ramblings with a gentle kiss to my lips, one that we both smiled into.

“Y/N, it’s alright,” he muttered against my lips.

Staring up into those almond eyes I loved so much, I eventually nodded and patted his chest.

“Okay.”

Linking our fingers together, Noah led me to the other end of the room where Davis was working on filling up the boxes of merch.

“I want to show you the new look we have planned for our stage outfits,” Noah said.

My eyes widened, almost forgetting that the guys talked about changing a lot with this new era. He showed me the pants, tank top, button-up shirt, and jacket; all black. But what kept my attention was at the top of the table, Bad Omens symbols calling to me.

“Ski mask?” I questioned.

Noah smirked while putting it on, those eyes darkening when I sucked in a breath.

“What does the mask represent?” I now asked.

“My vision,” he said while adjusting it.

“Ah, yes the vision,” I emphasized while rolling my eyes playfully.

Noah pointed to his head. “It’s all in my brain.”

“You have a lot going on in there,” I chuckled but kept a careful eye on the mask, assessing it while feeling the burn ignite within.

“When you don’t occupy over 95% of it,” Noah shrugged but then narrowed his eyes. “Is the mask doing it for you, angel?”

Davis tossed down one of the shirts he was folding and began walking away, muttering something under his breath.

“Can’t they wait until I’m out of the room?”

I licked my lips, doing my best to appear not turned on by the image of Noah in the mask.

“Maybe. But I still think you’re missing one thing,” I said with a low voice.

Somehow I could tell he raised a brow. “Yeah?”

Slinking up closer to him, I raked my nails down the exposed skin of his neck while whispering over his lips.

“Those grillz I found hiding in your bathroom drawer,” I nibbled on his bottom lip before walking past him, purposely putting a little sway in my hips knowing he was watching.

For the next few hours, I watched them rehearse the new setlist they created for the tour. I stood next to Matt in his makeshift sound desk, every so often watching what he was doing, and when they started to rehearse The Death of Peace of Mind, I couldn’t help but smirk when I thought back to the memory of hearing the song for the first time.

Noah must have been as well because as he moved in place with the microphone held tight in his grasp, his eyes met mine before winking.

“I miss the way you say my name. The way you bend, the way you break. Your makeup running down your face. The way you fuck, the way you taste,” his angelic voice sang.

“Woo!” I yelled while holding up a finger.

Suddenly a warm hue crept over my face when I realized I had said that out loud and slunk farther down in the chair next to Matt.

“Woo?” He asked with a teasing grin.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged while playing with a piece of lint on my sweatpants. “It just works. Every time I listen to the song, I always add the woo.”

Noah, whose own smirk was wide and prideful, leaned against the mic stand; they had stopped playing with my embarrassing outburst.

“I like it, it’s cute,” he admitted.

“Maybe you should do it on tour,” Folio suggested to Noah with a wiggle of his brows.

Groaning, I gathered up my things before walking up to Noah and kissing him.

“I have to go. I have my appointment with Dr. Poulos. I’ll call you after.”

“Don’t forget about this weekend, angel,” Noah pointed a finger.

I nodded with a pout. “Right, our super secret date that I don’t get any hints for.”

When Noah bid me goodbye with a gentle pat on my ass, Jolly’s voice stopped me before I could leave.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm?” I adjusted the strap of my bag.

He scratched at the large bun of hair on top of his head. “Is your therapist seeing new patients?”

“Are you interested in therapy?” I asked with a raised brow.

“No,” Jolly shook his head with a sigh. “For Astrid. The last couple of weeks, she’s not been herself. I think with the upcoming anniversary of her father's death, she’s taking it hard but won’t talk to me about it.”

My heart sank for one of my best friends. We just hung out last night and I hadn’t noticed anything was wrong with her.

“Shit, I had no idea.”

Jolly set down his guitar. “She hides it very well. I only know bits and pieces about what happened to her father but I think she had someone else to talk about it with, it would help her.”

“Definitely,” I nodded. “I’ll grab a card from Dr. Poulos and put in a good word.”

Jolly placed a kiss on the side of my head. “Thank you.”

NOAH

The songs of birds danced around us as I held tightly on Y/N’s hands, the waves crashing at the pier below us and she clutched something tightly in her chest.

“You didn’t have to buy this for me, you know?”

Even though she tried to chastise me for spending my money on her, I knew from the smile on her face that she was happy to have a new wolf stuffed animal; one that mirrored the one I gave her back on our tour together.

The one Trey threw out of the window of their tour bus.

We spent our entire afternoon at the California Wolf Center, seeing different packs of wolves up close and learning about them. The smile that Y/N had on her face as she bent low in front of the fence to say hello to one of the wolves a few feet away from her made my heart flutter wildly in my chest.

If I didn’t already know that I loved her, I’d probably tell her for the first time at that moment.

After a long drive back into the city, we decided to walk onto the pier for some ice cream.

“I want to take care of you, angel,” I squeezed her hand as I led her towards a bench on the white sand.

We both sat and watched the waves for a few minutes while Y/N read her book. I had my arm wrapped around her, smelling the hint of vanilla in her hair and the floral scent of her perfume as it clung to her skin, and glanced over to the bench across from us. It was an older couple, the man reading a book to his wife, and I cocked my head to the left, something about them oddly familiar.

“Angel,” I rubbed her shoulder.

She hummed, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. I glanced at the title when she pulled it out of her bag.

The Dare by Harley Laroux.

When I asked what it was about, Y/N’s face turned crimson before waving me off and muttered something about how I wouldn’t like it. But when I read a few sentences over her shoulder, I could see why she blushed.

Something about the girl being bent over the guy’s lap in a movie room and getting spanked repeatedly.

“Y/N,” I said her name this time, pulling her attention away from the book and up to me. “Haven’t we seen them before?”

She followed my gaze over to the older couple and pursed her lips, trying to think if we had.

“We have! In South Carolina. You joined me at that cafe when I went to order all of us coffee that day on tour. They were walking ahead of us.”

Suddenly the light clicked on and I nodded when that day crept into my mind. I’d been so nervous to be alone with Y/N at the time but being so close to her in line and having her scent engulf me for the first time told me that she would sink herself deep inside of me.

“What are the odds,” I muttered with a smile.

“He’s reading a book to her,” Y/N mused.

I dragged my fingers up and down her arm while gazing down at her. “Do you think he’s reading her a dirty book like the one you’re reading?”

She smacked my chest causing an uproar of laughter from me.

“Are you going to get me some ice cream or what?” She raised a brow with a playful smile.

I brushed a kiss along her forehead. “What kind?”

Y/N tapped her chin in mock thought. “I’ll take a fudgsicle, please.”

With a sweet kiss on her lips, I let her by herself with the wolf stuffed animal and book and walked over to the concession stand, noticing a long line already.

It was a cool autumn day and everyone wanted to spend the last few hours of daylight outside. I, however, needed to waste another hour until we were able to head back to my house. As the line moved up slowly, I glanced down at my phone to read the last text conversation in the group chat with my roommates.

Michael: Where are we supposed to stay tonight?

Jesse: I’m staying at Maxine’s and Jolly’s staying with Astrid.

Michael: Oh way to rub it in. I guess I’ll bunk with Malcolm and Chase.

Me: Salem misses you 😂

Michael: I swear, if that cat bites my feet again in the middle of the night, I’m going to drop him off with you guys.

Jolly: Everything is set up, Noah. We’ll be out of the house in an hour.

Jesse: I don’t want to know what you have planned tonight but all I ask is please don’t touch my strawberries. They’re from Matt’s garden.

I laughed while stuffing my phone back into the pocket of my gray sweatshirt and moved forward in line. My hood was up and pulled low over the brim of my hat, making it hard for anyone to recognize me. We’d been fortunate enough all day not to be bothered by fans but now seeing how busy the pier was, I wanted to be extra careful. Y/N and I had yet to make our relationship public and we were hoping to keep it as quiet as long as we could since we were becoming very private people.

As the line shifted again, I noticed the older gentleman was now standing in front of me. With a quick glance back over to the seating on the beach, I saw Y/N still reading her book then realized the older woman was by herself, only to realize that her husband was standing in front of me, muttering something about the prices under his breath.

“That will be $5.95,” the younger woman smiled.

“My lord, how times have changed. What do we expect in this economy?” He said.

I stifled a laugh behind my hand as I rubbed at my jaw. “You’re not kidding.”

The older man patted the pockets of his tan jacket and then his pants. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet. Here, let this young man go ahead, I think my wife has my wallet.”

While reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet and waved to the worker behind the booth.

“I’ll get it. Can you add a fudgesicle and vanilla cone, please?” I asked with a smile.

As the worker went to work about getting my ice cream, the older man turned to look up at me; literally.

“Oh, my. You’re a tall fella, you must have eaten your vegetables when you were a kid,” the man adjusted his glasses.

“I’m a fan of tomatoes,” I shrugged with a laugh.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he nodded towards the concessions where the worker handed him his two vanilla cones.

“It’s not a problem,” I smiled at the worker after dropping a twenty on the counter, telling her to keep the change.

“You’ve got a name, son?” The older man asked as we both began walking back towards the beach.

“Noah,” I answered after a lick of my ice cream.

The burst of vanilla bean pleasured my taste buds and exploded in my mouth. It reminded me of something I’d like to try later.

“Well, I’ll be,” he chuckled. “That’s my name although I had it a lot longer than you, but-.”

He waved me off but then pointed to the exposed tattoos on my fingers. “So what do you do, Noah? You have those tattoos all over and a cool haircut. Let me guess. The arts?”

I nodded with a grin. “Yes, sir. You hit the nail right on the head! How about you?”

“Ah, what can I say? I know a thing or two about predicting things. And I’ve worked quite a few different jobs in my lifetime. Restored an old house and made an art studio for my sweetheart, even got myself in the paper. But now, the two of us are here on vacation.”

We came to a stop right where the sand and concrete met and Noah smiled while pointing over to the bench I first noticed them.

“That’s my Allie over there. Do you have a sweetheart, young Noah?”

“I do,” I grinned. “She’s sitting right over there, the one with the book and wolf stuffed animal.”

Old Noah’s tired eyes drifted over to where Y/N was sitting, the wind blowing through her hair, and the sight of her looking so at peace made my heart swell.

“You know,” I shifted on my feet. “We’ve actually seen you and your wife before. It was a few years ago at a coffee shop in South Carolina. It’s a little place called Palmieri.”

Old Noah’s eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be. What a small world. There’s no way I’d remember a name like that.”

I licked at the chocolate ice cream that ran down my hand from Y/N’s fudgesicle and shrugged. “It’s a place that means a lot to me.”

“How funny is that?” Old Noah’s chuckle shook his whole small frame before giving me a wink. “If I learned anything over my lifetime, Noah. It’s that fate will always prevail.”

I couldn’t help but make a face at that, only because I was becoming such a private person so it shocked me that this older man could understand parts of my life without giving much away. All of the odds and chances were starting to feel very Twilight Zone. It made me feel vulnerable and shocked that things from the universe were real. Everyone had been saying it ever since I walked off the bus on the first day of the tour and shook her hand for the first time.

Y/N was my soulmate and I was hers.

Old Noah must have caught the look on my face and patted my shoulder. “Don’t go too far in your head, son. It could be hard to get out of.”

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath.

“Well, all I’ll say is hold your sweetheart close, Noah. A woman like that is hard to come by. I promise, if the two of you treat each other right, you will live the best life together.”

I nodded with a smile. “Thank you, sir.”

Old Noah took a few slow steps before glancing back toward me. “Thank you for being so kind, Noah. You don’t see that much anymore. Have a great rest of your day.”

“You too.”

I made sure to watch as he made it back to his wife, slowly sitting down next to her and handing her the ice cream cone. There was something in the way she smiled at him; almost as if she was trying to remember something.

Then, I glanced over to Y/N, who still had her face buried in her book with a deep crimson hue covering her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Whatever she was reading in that book had her flustered in ways that made her pull at the collar of her shirt and shift in her spot on the bench. My eyes cast downward to her wrist, the metal chain catching the setting sun and I peeked down at my own. A sudden flash of a hospital bed appeared in my mind but was gone just as quickly.

Shaking it off, I reached Y/N and handed her the fudgesicle.

“Thank you, mochi,” she beamed at me after setting her book down.

We ate in silence for a few moments until I noticed a strand of hair falling into her face, nearly into the ice cream, so I brushed it away and tucked it behind her ear.

“Your hair. It was going to get sticky.”

She left a kiss on my cheek, the butterflies in my stomach having a whirlwind of a time.

“You’re always taking care of me, Noah. Are you going to get ice cream out of my hair even when we’re old and gray?” Y/N asked.

I pressed a cold kiss to her forehead. “That’s the plan.”

Old and gray.

“How do you think I’d look old and gray?” I wondered after finishing off my ice cream cone.

“Oh, handsome as ever and wearing a black cardigan. I bet you’ll still have the Levi cut,” she mockingly teased, resting her head on my shoulder.

The sounds of the waves crashing ashore and laughter from the families and variety of couples brought a weird sense of calm to my ever-racing mind and heart. I did my best to heed Old Noah’s advice to not get so far in my own mind and right now, with Y/N by my side, it made it easier. The last couple of years hadn’t been easy for either of us, especially the times we almost lost each other due to our own fucked up style of communicating. But because of therapy, we were learning and growing.

When I watched a couple, no younger than us, splash each other in the water, I was reminded of a time, long ago, when Y/N and I did the same.

"If you were a bird, what bird would you be?" She asked when she came to a stop in front of me.

"Well," I ran a hand over my chin to show I was thinking deeply about this question. "According to the fanbase, they see me as a duck so I guess that."

"I love that! Oh, you know what would be funny?" She grinned.

I shrugged. "No, but I have a feeling you'll tell me."

"When you scream to Dethrone, you should be funny by saying this is dethrone you quacks, instead of fucks. It'd be a way of showing the fans you read everything online," she deadpanned before falling into a fit of giggles and looking up to the darkening skies above her.

Seeing how much that small joke made her laugh made me make a mental note to say that next tour.

"What about you? What bird would you be?"

"A crow," she answered so fast, almost as if she thought about this question in depth before. "They’re mysterious, they’re misunderstood and always take care of the ones they love.”

I hummed with her answer. "I can see that. You'd make a lovely crow."

She bumped her shoulder with me as the waves crashed harder around us. "You'd make a pretty cool duck. And we'd be bird friends."

"Well," I glided my hands through the water. "If you're a bird, then I'm a bird."

“Angel,” I asked, pulling her attention away from her book.

“Hm?”

“If we were birds, would we be bird lovers? Because last time, we were bird friends,” I said.

The corners of Y/N's lips curled up in a smile as if the memory was replaying in her mind like a movie.

“We’d be the best bird lovers,” she breathed with a kiss on my lips.

Wrapping my arm around her, we let the silence fall between us again, truly enjoying this moment together. Ever since we both released new albums, our work schedule had been packed with constant media or preparing for the upcoming tour. This was a rare weekend where we all had off so neither of us was in a rush to leave.

Well, until I got a text from Jolly letting me know that the house was empty.

“I think there’s a fireworks show tonight at the pier,” Y/N said while looking at her phone.

Fireworks at the pier.

“Noah! Stop!” Y/N giggled while wrapping her arms around my neck.

“What?” I stopped spinning. “Let you go?”

She shrieked as I nearly dropped her. “No, you idiot! Don’t let me go!”

As if I had just been slapped in the face, I sat up straighter when everything clicked into the constantly moving puzzle pieces inside my mind.

“It’ll all connect, everything!” I muttered while chewing on my bottom lip.

“Conjuring magic there?”

Y/N’s giggles snapped my head towards hers as I did myself to calm my thoughts so she could understand.

“Remember at breakfast when Jolly and I were telling you our future plans for Bad Omens?”

She nodded, a pretty confused look on her face. “Yes?”

“The comics, the music videos, all of it. It’ll connect,” I rambled on my idea when she still looked at me confused.

“So, the covers would be what ifs?” Y/N asked after a moment.

I snapped my finger with an eager nod. “Yes, exactly!”

There was still hesitation on her face as she turned to face me head-on, fingers meddling with the chain around her wrist.

“Just Pretend? Don’t you think it kind of gives away the elusiveness of everything? Of us?” Y/N wondered.

“Not at all, angel. Let me explain,” I linked our fingers together and then went about spending the next couple of minutes explaining my grand idea.

READER

Oh. My. Gods.

I came to a halt in the middle of Noah’s living room, all of my breath stolen by the bright and colorful sight in front of me. On every living room and kitchen surface were bouquets; of different sizes, colors, and kinds. On the mantle of the fireplace was a large purple bouquet of Violets. On the end table next to the couch was one of blue orchids. Spread out along the kitchen island were three large vases of pale pink peonies. Besides the flowers, candles were lit and spread out throughout the open space.

Words felt foreign on my lips as I looked at all the other array of flowers, feeling the tears well up in the corners of my eyes and my throat burned when I tried not to let out a sob.

“Noah,” I choked while turning to look at him. “What is all of this?”

He was leaning against the front door with an apprehensive look on his face. Immediately, I could tell he was nervous with how tense his shoulders were.

“We never spent Valentine’s Day together,” Noah stood up straighter and cleared his throat when it cracked.

“But it’s March,” you giggled.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. But I wanted to give this to you. I’m trying to make up for our lost time together.”

I walked over to the bouquets of Violets on the mantel and breathed in the sweet scent. “Do each of these have a significance?”

This seemed to break Noah out of his nervous stupor because he took off his hood, shaking his hair before coming over to me.

“I’m glad you asked, angel,” he smiled. “The orchids and peonies represent love and admiration in Asia. The violets, also known as the Sumire, represent life and sincerity. Its small size and delicate nature represent deep affection for someone. These flowers are very important in Japan.”

You hummed while plucking one out of the face and twirling it between your fingers.

“Can you guess which ones are my favorite?”

When Noah shook his head, I plucked another one from the vase this time tucking it behind his ear.

“The violets because my affection for you runs deep. But I think you already knew that,” you pecked his lips.

Noah gave me a bashful smile while casting his eyes down at our feet, a crimson hue coloring his face. So I cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at me, and I could feel the nervousness almost burn my palm.

“Mochi,” you breathed. “You’re more nervous now than when you showed me my art studio.”

He rubbed at his cheek before motioning to the flowers around us. “I’ve never done this before. Dates and being romantic. I guess I want everything to be perfect. You deserve it.”

I brought the flower that was held between my fingers up to his nose, brushing it over the freckles there which in turn, made Noah scrunch up his nose with a quiet chuckle.

The sight of him like this, bashful and giggling, made me weak in the knees so I kept myself up by grasping at the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“Noah, it’s just me. You don’t have to do all of this or be nervous. You know I’d be perfectly fine with a simple rose stem.”

“It’s not just you, angel. It’s all of you, everything I do now is for you. I want to make you happy,” he said while locking his hands behind my neck.

“You do make me happy, mochi,” you professed while playing with the flower behind his ear.

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “But I-I didn’t have a chance to express how much I love you and want to take care of you. You mean so much to me and whatever I can do to prove that to you, I will.”

His smile was slanted slightly and his cheeks were still flushed as he twirled a piece of hair around his lock fingers before locking them behind my neck again; keeping me in place.

Not that I minded. I had no reason to leave.

“I know. I love you for it,” I kissed those lips that always tasted light and sweet, like honey. All I could taste now was how unbitter it all was.

There was no goodbye.

All him, all sweet.

“You’re adorable like this, mochi. Bashful every time we kiss.”

He playfully rolled his eyes before capturing my lips again. “Laugh it up you little brat. I need your lips like I need oxygen.”

Little brat.

Those two words made an inferno burn deep within my core and I let out a soft moan. Titling up my chin with slight defiance at him, I gave him a teasing wink.

“Why don’t I show you how much of a little brat I can be?”

My breath fanned over his lips, a tease to his words, then when something dark flashed across his eyes I knew that I had less than three seconds to create some distance between us. My laughter echoed through the space of Noah’s house as his loud footsteps chased after me. I ran from his living room, through the kitchen, and into his bedroom with his tall presence hot on my ass.

I wanted him on me in more ways than one.

Once inside his bedroom, I stayed on one side of the bed while Noah stood on the other, both of our chests rising and falling trying to catch our breath. His hair had become disheveled in our chase and it was falling into his face, him not making a move to brush it back. Those dark eyes stared me down through the even darker tendrils and my stomach flipped when Noah cocked his head to the side.

“I’m waiting,” he held out his hands to the side.

I raised a brow. “For what?”

“For you to show me how bratty you can be,” the speed at which his tongue snapped out to wet his lips was astonishing.

A devious smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth before I made quick work of stripping out of my clothes, letting them pool at my feet. I stood in front of Noah in nothing but a pair of crimson panties.

“Angel,” Noah’s voice rumbled deep in his chest.

“What?” I shrugged, innocently.

These were his favorite pair of panties. He always raved at how they stood out against my skin tone.

“I can smell you from here,” his nostrils flared.

“You cannot,” I scoffed while placing my hands on my hips, purposely cocking my left hip out.

Noah didn’t say anything, instead, he hooked a finger and beckoned me over to him. I shook my head with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

“I’m actually kind of tired,” I stretched my arms wide, faking a yawn. “I’m going to take a shower.”

As I stepped around the bed, Noah’s quick reflexes met me halfway causing me to scream and I jumped up on the bed to get away from him. I made it two steps on top of his bed until his strong arms wrapped around me from behind, tackling me to the bed.

“Angel,” Noah grunted while thrusting his hips into mine. “You’re such a tease.”

I bit back a moan. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Really?” His long finger grazed over the lacey material of my panties, teasing my clit.

This time I was unable to hold back the moan especially when his finger slipped underneath my panties to now gather my arousal to my clit. Noah’s teeth grazed over my collarbone, tasting me and humming in approval.

Until some noise from his computer went off and made him groan before climbing off the bed.

“What is that?” I asked while resting up on my elbows.

Noah clicked on his mouse a few times. “Orie wants me to get in a game with him.”

Suddenly, a thought came to mind and I tip-toed over to Noah, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind.

“Play a game with him,” I breathed against the shell of his ear.

He turned his head to glance at me over his shoulder, holding my hands against his chest. “Y/N, I can tell him no. It’s fine.”

I shook my head with a wink. “Play a game with him, Noah. Make sure the camera is off and strip down.”

His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, almost mirroring the color of my panties before I urged him to follow my orders with a swift pat on his ass. While he accepted the game invite from Orie, Noah stripped out of his clothes and sat in his computer chair.

“Don’t forget the headset and these,” I said while rummaging around the box underneath his bed before tossing one of the objects over at him.

I had a box of almost the same things underneath my own bed back at home.

Noah caught what I threw him mid-air, the golden lenses catching the light from the LED lights in the room.

“I haven’t worn glasses in months, Y/N. Why would I need them now?” He questioned with a slight slant on his lips while twirling the gold round glasses between his fingers.

Rolling my eyes, I stuffed the box back underneath his bed.

“Wait,” he pointed a finger. “How long has that been under there? And why were my old glasses in there?”

“Noah, please,” I semi-wined while running a hand through my hair. “Can you just-?”

With a wave of a hand to the glasses, he eventually understood why I wanted him to put them on.

“A little role play?” He teased while putting them on.

I sucked in a breath at the vision of him in front of me. I’d seen streams and pictures of him wearing these glasses with his long hair and I thought he was breathtaking in them.

Now with his short Levi haircut and all of his tattoos on full display for me, Noah somehow managed to be even more gorgeous.

With the headset on, he fell onto the computer chair and spoke into the microphone. “Hey, Orie. Yeah, I got a little bit to play a round.”

Once I slipped out of my panties and tossed them on Noah’s pillow, I held the black rose sex toy in one hand and when I reached the corner of the bedroom where Noah had his computer set up, I froze in place. His cock was thick, almost standing straight up with how he was sitting and I bit my lip when I watched precum ooze out of the slit.

I noticed he was already in some game with Orie, his fingers working fast on the keys and mouse, so I pressed a finger to my lips.

“Be quiet now, Noah. We don’t need to let Orie know what we’re doing,” I whispered while straddling him on his chair so he was able to see the computer monitor.

“Y/N,” Noah warned.

Ignoring him, I ripped open the condom and slowly rolled it over his cock which made him let out a low noise from his chest.

“Shh,” I hushed while clamping a hand over his mouth. “Not so loud.”

My stomach burned with arousal, igniting a part of me I never knew existed. My sex life had improved with Noah and I was able to find out new kinks. What we were about to do, sex with someone possibly hearing was new. I knew that Noah wouldn’t let Orie hear anything but even the thought of him hearing something turned me on.

“Is that Y/N?” Orie’s voice sounded from Noah’s headset.

I winked as Noah’s eyes darted from the computer monitor to me. “She’s yelling at Salem. We have him here tonight and I guess he’s being too loud or something.”

“Wow,” I mouthed, proud of how well he came up with that lie.

With his hands preoccupied, I adjusted myself over his cock and locked eyes with him as I sunk deep on to him. My groan caught in my throat at the fullness of Noah’s cock in my pussy. It felt fresh and new every time.

I cringed a little from the pain due to my endometriosis but as soon as I started moving up and down, the pain began to subside. Noah’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he tried his best to keep his attention on his computer while I rode him, slow at first.

“Angel,” he let out quietly through gritted teeth.

Ignoring him, I flipped on the black rose, the vibrations sounding loud in the quiet room and when I touched my clit with it I wasn’t able to keep that moan quiet.

“Fuck,” I dragged out while leaning my head back.

“What’s that?” Orie’s voice asked through Noah’s headset again.

“It's so good,” my body writhed against Noah’s.

He quickly said goodbye to Orie before exiting the game and ripping off the headset. My squeals bounced off the walls when one of Noah’s hands snaked around my throat, using his thumb to hold my chin straight.

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed when I rolled my hips over his cock. “What if he heard you? No one is allowed to hear those pretty little moans. Just me.”

I whined when he pulled the rose away from my clit, immediately missing the friction.

“I didn’t-,” I was unable to finish my words because Noah wrapped his other arm around my back to pull me closer to his chest, the head of his cock hitting that spot.

He bit down on my breast, right above my nipple, and I cried out in pleasure.

“I should punish you,” he rasped, voice gone with lust, and began pulling his cock out.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” I shook my head and desperately tried to stop him.

Noah raised a brow while tightening his grip around my throat and pushed his cock in deeper. “You’re sorry?”

I did my best to nod in his grasp. “Y-yes. Please, I need you to move again.”

He hummed and buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in. His pace didn’t increase, instead, it was even slower than before. It was as if he wasn’t even moving and I let out a groan of frustration.

“Do you know how long I wanted to fuck you in this chair, Y/N?”

Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple. “I’ve sat in this chair and thought of you so many times. My hand wrapped around my cock and pictures of you up on my screen.”

My stomach flipped at his words, the image he painted beautifully on the canvas of my mind.

“Were you wearing these glasses?” I motioned to them with a raise of my brows.

“This doing it for you, angel? My glasses?” He chuckled before moving over to the other nipple, mimicking the same actions as before with his tongue.

Every one of my senses was burned alive. It was like this every time Noah and I were connected; our souls becoming one.

My nails scraped along his scalp as I pulled on his hair, yanking his head back so he could gaze up at me, our pace always in sync.

“You could wear a mask and it would still do it for me,” I moaned while rolling my hips against him.

“I can make that happen,” he promised before crashing his lips to mine in a hungry kiss.

It was one of pure adrenaline, his tongue fighting mine for dominance and his teeth sunk deep into my bottom lip. I shook in his embrace when I felt the vibrations of the black rose against my clit again.

“No-Noah,” I cried in ecstasy when the familiar heat spread to my core.

“Good girl,” he praised in between devouring my mouth. “Say my name again.”

“Noah,” I sang when my orgasm was on the crest, begging me to let go.

His cock was fucking into me with absolutley no remorse. The chair beneath us was creaking and I was sure we’d break it at any given moment. My breasts were pressed tightly against his chest and the sharp metal of his chain digging into my skin added more blissful pain. My body was pulled tight with tension, knowing any moment I would snap.

“You know what to do, angel,” Noah spoke huskily as his cock twitched inside of me when he smacked my ass. “Don’t make me fucking ask.”

Locking eyes with him, I cried out my orgasm as my body writhed in his tight grasp, and Noah created some space between us to glance down where our bodies connected. It was wet, more than usual, and his eyes snapped away from the soaked condom and lap.

“Angel,” his voice was deep, dropping an octave. “Did you just squirt?”

I couldn’t speak; my orgasm took every single ounce of energy out of me. Instead, I nodded while resting my forehead against his chest and smacked away the vibrator that was still held against my clit. The aftershocks were too much and I was afraid of crumbling in his embrace.

“So,” Noah grunted with a thrust.

“Fucking.”

Thrust.

“Hot.” He growled out his release, spilling into the condom, and held me tighter against him.

Gentle fingers grazed up and down my spine, as we both came down from our highs and I hummed in delight when Noah’s lips pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I don’t think I could ever sit in this chair again without thinking of you,” he mused with a light chuckle.

Sitting up straighter, I tapped his cheek. He was still wearing those glasses and it made my pussy clench over his slightly limp cock.

“I wonder what else we can fuck on in your house to make you think of me,” I joked before climbing off of him.

Noah’s fingers gripped tighter into the flesh of my hips to keep me in place and he winked. “Let’s find out.”

The next morning, I woke to gentle kisses down my spine and I smiled in my sleep haze.

“Mm, good morning,” I grumbled into the pillow as I tucked it deep under my chin.

“How’d you sleep?”

Noah’s gruff and sleep-filled voice made my stomach twinge but then I internally groaned when the pain from last night started to creep back into my bones.

“I’m still sore after last night,” I sighed while turning over in bed to face him. He was freshly showered, with water droplets clinging to his hair, and wore clean clothes.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asked while brushing away the mess of hair from my face.

I shook my head with a lazy smile. “Not at all. I wanted all of that.”

To reassure Noah, I kissed his lips tenderly; my essence still lingered.

“Hungry?” He asked after pulling away.

“Starved! Someone kept me up all night,” I exaggerated while sitting up in bed, clutching the sheet to my naked body. “I’m going to shower quickly.”

Ten minutes later, I stepped into the kitchen just in time to see Noah. I could see the blood rushing to his soft and full cheeks, as he continued talking with the guys who had gotten home. The mortification of knowledge was evident.

Jolly, Michael, and Jesse.

“What’s going on?” I asked while stuffing my hands in my hoodie pocket.

Taking a closer look at Jolly, a bright red material that was hanging loosely on his shoulder caught my attention and I stifled my gasp behind my hand.

“Why was your swimsuit top hanging from the ceiling fan?” He questioned.

My eyes darted to Noah. “I thought you said you cleaned up!”

“I might have missed a few things,” he held up his hands in defense.

I ran inside, giggles bouncing off the walls, as Noah chased me and nearly slipped on the kitchen floor due to his wet feet.

“We can’t fuck in the Jacuzzi, Noah! The guys use it too,” I stood on the other side of the large kitchen island with my hands on my hips.

Noah wore a wicked smirk. “They won’t know, angel.”

I untied my swimsuit top and threw it up in the air, catching it on the ceiling fan in the kitchen.

“If you catch me, you can fuck me where ever you want.”

Michael came down the stairs with a troubled look in his eyes. “Why is there a folder on the computer in the studio labeled Y/N private?”

“Oi vey,” I pinched my eyes shut while Noah rubbed my back.

“You didn’t open it did you?” He asked.

“No,” Michael shook his head but then his shoulders dropped. “Do I even want to know?”

“Louder! Say it louder, angel!”

Noah grunted as he thrusted his cock into my pussy with such force, I screamed into the microphone.

“Noah! Don’t stop. Please!”

“Who do you belong to?” He demanded to know, sinking his teeth deep into my shoulder.

“YOU!” I cried out with my orgasm.

Jolly sighed while falling onto the couch and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.

“Everything alright?” I questioned while sitting next to him.

He gave a half shrug. “Last night was rough for Astrid. She kept waking up with nightmares.”

My heart dropped, knowing that her father's death was bothering her more than she would admit to anyone; even Jolly.

“Has she talked with Dr. Poulos?”

“No,” he ran his hands over his long thighs. “She told me she’ll reach out when she’s ready.”

I patted his shoulder. “I’ll stop by Fika today and chat with her. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Jolly smiled. “Thanks, Y/N.”

The sound of rummaging around the fridge and a loud gasp made me turn my attention towards Jesse, who was holding up an empty crate.

“My strawberries!” He exasperated while running a hand through his curls. “These were from Matt’s garden. Did you guys have to eat all of them?”

Noah and I shared a look. “Sorry, man. They were delicious.”

“Noah,” I breathed while pulling on my bindings.

The cool granite beneath my warm skin brought shills to my body. I was laid spread out wide for him on the kitchen counter, blindfolded, and hands tied up above my head.

I couldn’t see him but felt when he bit into the fruit, its juices spilling over my clit, then his warm tongue was there to clean it up.

“Fucking divine,” Noah groaned.

Jesse tossed the empty container in the trash before grumbling something under his breath while sitting on the couch opposite Jolly and I. Noah was finishing breakfast. When Jolly shifted in his spot next to me, my heart leaped in my throat when I saw what he had in his hand.

“The mask, huh?” He smirked. “Didn’t think you’d be into the yellow one.”

“NOAH SEBASTIAN!” I bellowed. “Did you just stuff the mask in the cushion hoping no one would find it?”

He didn’t respond, simply humming along to the tune in his head.

Michael began cleaning up the scattered mess on the coffee table when something fell out of the small black bag in his hand.

A set of shiny grillz.

“So good,” I murmured while running my hands through Noah’s hair as I lay on the coffee table.

His dark almond eyes looked up at me as he continued the onslaught on my pussy with his tongue. The richness of his eyes stood out against the stark contrast of the yellow mask he wore. When he grazed his teeth over my clit, I hissed in slight pain.

“Shit, mochi!”

“Sorry, angel,” he whipped at his mouth, the shiny grillz on his teeth catching the light overhead.

The slight pain turned to arousal at the sight of him and I pushed his head back towards my clit. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Are those,” Jolly leaned closer to Michael. “Are those your show grillz?”

“Fuck, they still look wet!” Michael dropped them to the table.

I groaned while sinking further into the couch, hiding my face behind my hands.

“Alright,” Noah sighed while setting down the spatula and I noticed his ears were beet red. “You guys are embarrassing Y/N! So I missed a few things, sue me.”

“I’d like to,” Jesse grumbled while crossing his arms. “Ate all my strawberries.”

“It’s alright,” I reassured them with a smile. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

Micahel stomped up the stairs. “I need to take a shower to scrub out the images of you and Y/N fucking all over the house.”

Standing up from the couch, I walked over to Noah and laid a soft kiss on his warm cheeks. “I think after breakfast we should head to the farmers market. Buy Jesse some replacement strawberries.”

“Might as well invite Matt,” Noah suggested.

I shook my phone in my hand. “Already on it.”

As I helped Noah set up the table with the breakfast spread he cooked, neither of us heard the conversation between Jolly and Jesse; who were watching us with a smile.

“You do know that when she moves in, it’s going to be like this all the time right?” Jesse chuckled.

“Yeah, but look how happy Noah is. He deserves this,” Jolly said.

NOAH

I bounced on the soles of my feet with excitement as I waited in the lobby, hoping to find that familiar face in the crowd of people. Y/N was joining me on the road for the last week of the tour and after being away from her for two weeks, my soul was yearning to feel complete again. This was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other and all of our Facetime calls paled in comparison to actually seeing her beautiful face.

Throughout the crowd, a spot of aquamarine hair rushed past, only to stop when she recognized it was me.

“Hey, Bryan said you were handing out the key cards?” The woman adjusted the camera bag over her shoulder while gripping her suitcase with her free hand.

Our photographer fill-in for Lana.

She tried to give me a small smile but knowing what she’d gone through the last two weeks, outside of work, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt for what I was about to do. It’d been a plan of mine and the guy's since the other day, hoping it would fix the issue that had been plaguing her.

“Yeah,” I pulled out a familiar keycard, one I had just handed to Matt moments ago, and gave it to her. “We’re thinking of dinner and karaoke tonight if you’re interested.”

She tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “Y/N’s coming, right?”

I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that spread to my lips. “Yeah, she should be here any minute.”

“Cool, count me in. No offense but I’m sick of all the testosterone,” she giggled before giving me a wave and heading over to the elevators.

“If this plan doesn’t work, I’m going to lock them up in a closet to resolve whatever they have going on,” I muttered under my breath.

“Talking to yourself, mochi?”

Swirling on my heels, I gazed down at Y/N who was smiling and wearing the communal gray Chief sweater.

“Hi, angel,” I quickly wrapped my arms around her and breathed in her familiar scent.

Y/N buried her face in my chest and her hands dug at the back of my shirt. “I’ve missed you.”

Tilting her chin up, I left a deep kiss on her lips, not caring if anyone around us saw.

“I missed you too,” I brushed my nose along hers, and with my arm wrapped around her, I began leading her toward the elevators.

“You dyed your hair?” I asked as we stopped in front of the closed doors.

She wrapped her arms around my midsection and squeezed. “My roots were coming in and I needed it to look fresh for the photos. But speaking of hair colors. The girl you were talking to, was that-?”

I nodded with a sigh. “Yep. They’re still not talking though.”

As we stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed behind us, I held onto Y/N’s suitcase as she looked up at me, still wrapped in my free arm.

“Did you do what I suggested?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, they’re sharing a room right now. So if we hear yelling they’re most likely working things out,” I said while stepping off the elevator and heading towards the hotel room.

“YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE!”

“REALLY? LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU LOVED IT WHEN MY LIPS WERE ON YOURS!”

Y/N came to a stop in front of our door and pointed to the room next to ours. “I’m guessing that’s Matt’s room?”

“Yep,” I popped the ‘P’ as the door clicked open.

Once we were inside, I let Y/N get settled with unpacking her things as I lounged on the bed to watch with a loving gaze. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that after everything we’d gone through to get to this point, Y/N still wanted me.

I fucked up; a lot.

I made mistakes but those mistakes didn’t make me.

I fought with myself, with her, with others, to finally get here. To finally have Y/N as mine and secretly in that moment, I vowed to continue to prove to her how much I loved her and how much she meant to me.

A buzzing on the bed pulled my gaze away from Y/N’s beauty and saw her phone lit up with a message.

“Can you check it for me?” She asked before stepping into the bathroom.

Mom: Y/N, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the last week. Call me. I have something important to talk to you about. You can’t be busy with this job of yours so call me back.

“It’s your mom,” I informed with furrowed brows. “She’s been trying to get in touch with you?”

Y/N sighed while plopping down on the bed next to me. “Yeah. It’s probably she got a new job or met some new guy that she's going to get bored with after a week. It’s nothing important.”

I’d known Y/N for years now and I also knew when she was keeping something from me.

I brushed away the hair that fell loose from her bun. “Is there something else going on? You know you can talk to me, angel.”

Her eyes shone as she gazed up at me, laying a soft kiss on my palm. “I know, mochi. I know. I just don’t feel like getting lectured right now. I’m finally here with you, I don’t want her to ruin it.”

“Alright,” I eventually nodded, and for the time being ignored the way her face fell when she deleted the text message from her mom.

Y/N motioned to the wall opposite of us, where Matt’s room was.

“Do you think they’ll hook up?”

I snorted a laugh. “What’s with you setting up our friends?”

She shrugged. “I just want him to be happy. I want our friends to have what we have.”

“So you’re saying you’re happy?” I rested my forehead against hers, breathing in the familiar scent of her peach body wash.

“I am very happy,” she breathed before kissing my lips. “What about you?”

“Very,” a kiss to her lips.

“Very.”

Another kiss.

“Happy.”

Another kiss.

When her giggles filled the room, my heart stuttered in my chest. “I love you, Y/N.”

She twirled a strand of my hair around her finger. “I love you too, Noah.”

I laid there with her in my arms for a long time, the never-ending silence becoming a bit of comfort to us. We could lay next to each other for hours, not saying a word to each other, but we both knew how much we loved each other.

“Oh before I forget,” Y/N removed herself from my tight grasp, and her voice carried from the bathroom. “I brought some facemasks. I thought we could stay in and relax. I know you have a long day of rehearsals and the show tomorrow.”

Facemasks.

Hotel room.

Suddenly there was a vice grip around my throat, caging in the oxygen I was desperate to take back. Its large claws dug into my jugular, making the room tilt on its axis. I couldn’t center on my breathing, I couldn’t focus on anything in front of me.

“I didn’t bring any nail polish this time,” Y/N’s giggle barely broke through the haze. “And I can’t braid your hair.”

Nearly stumbling over the suitcases on the ground, I rushed past Y/N just as she stepped out of the bathroom and let the door to the hotel room slam behind me. The air in the hallway of the hotel was thicker, nearly making it impossible to catch my breath. The tight grip around my lungs and heart would not let up.

"I know what I feel. It’s not you, it’s me, Noah."

I shook my head furiously when the past began to creep in.

"No. Fuck, angel! Stop! The future hasn't even happened yet. Please, don't-what do you need to happen?"

Y/N’s bottom lip trembled as a broken sob clawed its way through her throat. "I-I think we need to remain friends right now. I can't-I can't get lost in you, Noah. It's so fucking easy to. I think we need space."

How she looked that night, moments before leaving me, continued to haunt me.

"I-I don't fucking want that, Y/N. I just want you!” My voice bellowed.

"Noah, please understand where I'm coming from," she begged.

"Angel-I. Please, just-," I eventually sighed in defeat.

Her broken eyes shined with her tears. "I'm going to head out."

I dug my palms into my eyes as I stood in the middle of the hallway, trying to stop letting my mind fall back into the past. All it took was two fucking words and I was back to that shell of a man I used to be.

Face masks.

I immediately flooded to where I was before all this. I felt like a scolded child with aging wounds.

Embarrassing.

Why did I just do that? Why did I leave the room for air? When the air I needed was back in the room? The emotional hurricane was in full force today. On the surface, it’s joking and light, but then it wants to pull me into the vortex. With each jibe, I feel the winds clipping wings of my own. I can’t allow it.

I refused.

I won’t circle the fucking drain. I began to feel my body relax and my voice flowed out calmly, instead of me being pulled in.

I decided I needed to inhale the air I could never survive without.

“Keaton,” I cried softly while rubbing at the ache in my chest. “I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.”

With the feeling of someone holding me upright, a soft breeze blew through my hair in the middle of the hotel hallway. A door down the hall opened, catching my attention immediately was a man wearing an all too familiar band t-shirt.

Too Close To Touch.

Along with the soft touch encasing me, I let out a quiet hum as a haunting flow of lyrics poured out of me.

“If you still want to sing, fill in the blanks we need. You can do it through me while you're gone.”

Then as quickly as those arms wrapped around me, they were gone and I felt alone in the hallway. But not before a soft voice whispered in my ear.

It’s okay.

Knocking on the hotel room door, realizing I didn’t have my key, I saw Y/N’s dark eyes staring daggers into me. All that inner rage inside those beautiful eyes made the guilt for walking away from her eat away at me even further; I deserved it.

When the frustration builds and I think I might explode, I have to remember to take a deep breath. So many times I’ve wanted to say things, or say anything. It was a long process with learning how to deal with it.

Her nostrils flared as I gently walked past her into the hotel room. Y/N needed to hear my explanation. I was ready to move forward. Reaching for a life I so badly yearned for with her. Here she was, in front of me. She was mine and she loved me.

Say something, you idiot!

“Angel-.” I began.

“What the fuck was that?” She whipped her head back at the door.

Oh shit, she’s mad.

The voice in my head didn’t sound like mine. Instead, it sounded like an old friend.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that. It’s just when you mentioned face masks and braids, my mind went back to a place, a darker place,” my hands shook as I stuffed them in my sweater pocket.

The anger in Y/N’s eyes vanished when it clicked for her what moment I was talking about.

“Mochi,” her voice wavered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to go back to that night. I know how hard it was for you, for both of us. I just thought we could recreate that night, the positives, and make up for the negatives.”

I linked our hands together to pull her into my chest, laying a chaste kiss on her lips.

“I’m ready to create many positive memories with you, angel.”

“Good,” she gave a small nod. “But next time something like this bothers you, please talk to me. Because you can't just run from sadness when it gets too hard to stay.”

“Really?” I snorted. “You’re using my lyrics on me?”

“Did it work?”

I wanted to kiss that hopeful smile off her face.

Instead, I winked and then pressed my hips into her, my cock brushing along her pussy. “You tell me.”

“You know,” her fingers danced through my hair. “I do miss a few things about that night.”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

Y/N stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips across mine. “I missed how I rode your cock while pulling on your braids.”

I shook my hair in her face. “You can still pull, angel.”

With one quick scoop, I had her in the air for a few moments before her body fluttered to the bed like the angel she was; her giggles bouncing off the walls. I was on her in a flash, attacking her lips with mine. Ravishing them like a man starved, wanting to lick up every last drop of the meal put out in front of him. Her tongue always molded perfectly with mine and Y/N hummed in delight when she tasted me.

“Shit, mochi,” she moaned while arching her neck back as I attacked the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck.

My cock twitched underneath my sweats and I rutted into her thigh. “Angel, I missed you.”

She reciprocated the feelings by kissing me again and slipping her hands underneath my sweater to drag her nails down the tattoos on my stomach. I shivered under the touch, loving the feeling of the burn her nails left behind, and I stripped her of her clothes, me following suit—all the while our lips never left each other.

Her skin on mine felt like the wings of an angel; soft and almost incandescent.

Her lips were like honey, sweet and sticky with gloss.

The arousal that I gathered with my fingers and sucked clean had a lingering tangy taste, something I found myself wanting more of.

A scent and taste that was distinctively Y/N.

“I love you,” I vowed in between kisses while I pumped my fingers in and out of her, using my other hand to lock her hands above her head.

“I love you,” she keened when my knuckle brushed over that spot.

The last time we shared a hotel bed, it ended with two broken souls, desperate to be molded back together. They spent months yearning to find each other again and now that they were connected again, we both refused to let something so minuscule as face masks ruin it.

READER

“Noah, stop!” I giggled when his lips brushed along the shell of my ear.

“Please, angel,” his gruff voice begged as his arms wrapped around me from behind.

I turned in his embrace, linking my fingers behind his neck, and marveled at those almond eyes I adored so much.

“No, Folio and Michelle are going to be here any minute,” I reminded him.

Noah adjusted the glasses on his nose with a pout. He woke up this morning with irritated eyes and not wanting to make it worse with contacts, he opted to wear his glasses.

Not that I minded, it reminded me of the time in his computer chair.

The tour ended a few days ago and now that all of us were back home, we decided to meet up at the local aquarium so Folio could finally introduce us to his girlfriend. But Noah, however, had other plans; ones that involved us sneaking into the backseat of his SUV so he could fuck my throat.

Tempting.

“He’s been talking about introducing us to Michelle for two months now, are we sure today is the day?” Noah asked.

I shrugged while pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I think so. Look how nervous he looks!”

Both of us gazed over to the other end of the lobby of the aquarium where Folio stood alone, hands shaking at his sides. We could practically see his heart jumping out of his chest due to his nerves.

“He’s never been this nervous before,” Noah murmured.

“Can you blame him? Look what she’s about to walk into,” I waved a hand at our large group.

Chase and Malcolm were looking at the large tank in the lobby that housed a variety of fish. Chase had his hand on Malcolm's lower back as he whispered something in his ear.

Jolly and Astrid stood a few feet away from us, a small smile pulling at her lips when he braided her long white hair for her.

Jesse and Maxxine stood with Davis, Michael, and Matt, conversing about something we couldn’t hear. But I watched with careful eyes as Matt’s gaze kept darting back to one certain area in the lobby; where a blue-haired girl was currently talking with Bryan.

Most likely about cameras.

When Matt’s eyes locked with mine, I motioned with a finger over to the girl but he rolled his eyes playfully before going back to talking with Michael.

Nicholas had sauntered up to Folio, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

There were a lot of us in our group but we were family. All of us.

“Folio! How did you and Michelle meet?” Davis questioned when all of us met in the middle of the lobby.

“At the Harley shop,” he chuckled, his earring shaking with the rumble of his body. “She wore her Motley Crue shirt and these cheetah flare suede pants. Her lips were red as fuck, I’ll remember those lips anywhere.”

All of us could hear the dreamy tone in his voice when he spoke about her and how the first thing that caught his attention was how she stood up to the man behind the counter who almost refused her service because he thought she didn’t know anything about bikes.

“I thought she was going to kick this guy's ass until I stepped in. We hit it off right away and she asked if I wanted to visit this Mexican ice cream shop around the block,” Folio smiled.

Just then someone walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around him, and I could see all the nerves slip out of his fingers.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips with a kiss.

Michelle smiled, showcasing off those red lips. “Hi, cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon? Really?” Matt teased when Folio’s cheeks turned a deep crimson.

“Everyone, this is Michelle. My girlfriend,” he said with a proud smile.

While all the introductions happened, I gave her a big welcoming hug, I left Noah with a quick kiss on his lips.

“Where are you going?” He pouted while reaching for my hips again.

I giggled and playfully smacked his hands away. “I’m going to talk to Matt quickly.”

Immediately Noah understood and dismissed me with a gentle pat on my ass. I found Matt standing a few feet away from the group of girls, his own dreamy smile on his face as he watched her carefully.

“Hey,” I tipped the rim of his hat. “It’s rude to stare.”

“Like you’re the one to talk,” he playfully shoved me. “With all the staring you and Noah did before you got together.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Very funny, Dierkes. I just came over to see how things are going with a certain fairy?”

Suddenly as if she heard me speak of her, that familiar airy laughter reached Matt, who clutched at his heart.

“I’m so fucked,” he admitted with a slight lift of his lips.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #just pretend noah sebastian #bad omens #fallenvvitchcult #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader

194 notes · View notes

kinzis-writing · 5 months

Text

Better than Revenge | M.R [4]

It had been almost two years since Y/N and Mattheo had been best friends. Y/N had decided that it was time to face her past and deal with whatever consequences would follow.

This chapter will probably contain a lot of Soft! Mattheo, which is ooc but i hope you enjoy.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettlby.

Warning(s): order of the phoenix spoilers (a bit), mentions of sexual activities, degrading/slight abuse by parents,

iv. “this is why we can’t have nice things, darling”

Chapter Four

*Gif not mine* *not edited or proofread*

It had been approximately four days since the Slytherin party and Y/N had tried her best to avoid Mattheo and his friends. It was easier to avoid the Slytherin friend group compared to Mattheo, as it seemed that he looked for her in every class, between every class, and at every meal. She had shaken him off every time and ignored him as much as possible, but that did little to stop him.

"Y/N!" The voice of Hermione had torn through the silence of the library. The Granger girl hurriedly making her way over to her housemate. "Lorenzo told me to come find you, Riddle is fighting Nott." she spoke fast.

Y/N shot up from her chair quickly, leaving her items and headed to where Hermione was taking her. It wasn't long before the two Gryffindor girls were stopping where their friend group was trying to break them up and other houses just watching. "Hey!" Y/N yelled as she walked towards the fight.

"Y/N." Sean warned as his sister shrugged him off and went towards the fight again since he had stopped her.

"Mattheo Riddle!" Y/N yelled breaking the boys apart as she carefully pushed them away from each other, her hand staying on the one she had called. "Stop it, both of you!" she yelled again. The Slytherin friend group cleared the hallways since the fight was under control and they didn't have to worry about their friends killing each other. "What in merlin's name happened?" she asked, looking at each one of the boys.

Mattheo stood their breathing heavy and glaring at Theo, who didn't dare look at anyone. Veronica wore a proud smile on her face, unknowingly being caught by the rest of the group. "Theo was insulting you." Enzo stated simply, not wanting to go into detail in such a public place.

"If she would put out-" Veronica started before Theodore shook his head indicating her to stop when he noticed Mattheo go to step forward, but Y/N held him back. The Nettleby girl was afraid that he would not be afraid of punching a girl right now.

"Let's go." She muttered pulling Mattheo along with her and not giving any of the Slytherin's her attention. She quietly led the boy to her dormitory and straight to the shared bathroom.

She didn't say anything as she sat him down on the toilet and started using some healing spells that she knew to heal him the best she could. Some of his wounds and marks were still there, but truth be told Theo looked worse.

"This was a bad idea." Y/N stated as she avoided Mattheo's gaze and walked out of the bathroom, him following her, once she had finished the healing spells. "This plan was rubbish, especially when it makes you and Theo fight. Merlin, you two were best friends before me." she muttered.

"He won't disrespect you s'long as i'm around." Mattheo mumbled as he took a seat on the girl's bed not knowing what to expect from her next.

Y/N shook her head as she stopped pacing and turned to face the boy that she had known very well since first year. "What was the fight even about?" she asked, knowing that it had to do with the issue between her and Theo.

"that bitch seems to have an influence on Theodore." Mattheo spoke as he eyed the girl in front of him. "Veronica started first, saying how our relationship must be draining because lack of activities, your ex then going on to say that there's better lays."

Y/N nodding, even though she didn't quite understand why her not having sex with him would be this big of an issue. Maybe it was an insecurity problem, or maybe it was the only thing he truly wanted from their relationship. Whatever the case, she knew that they were not worth her breath. Yet something had to give, because she was not finishing the next two years at school and dealing with the two wizards fighting.

"Come on," Y/N spoke as she grabbed Mattheo's hand and led him out of her dorm and made her way towards the Slytherin common room. She was going to settle this once and for all, whether it made people mad or not. "Pureblood." she spoke the the door and entered the common room as the door opened, Mattheo trailing behind her.

Just as she had suspected, the friend group had skipped class after the fight had broken out. The couple joined the group, as they caught everyone's attention. Veronica looked pissed and unhappy that they had decided to show up, when they were probably getting scolded by the friend group.

"I'll leave after I say this because I am done with how immature you two are acting," She started as she pointed to her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. "also the fact that the fights between you two," pointing at Mattheo and Theodore. "are absurd." she finished causing everyone to agree with those statements that had been made.

The girl turned to Theo before giving him a look, "You honestly want the truth? Because I have a feeling you won't want it once I started confessing." She asked the man that she used to have feelings for. When no one said anything, she looked at Mattheo to see if he had any feelings about people finding out about them. "It's true that I didn't sleep with you" She admitted to the group but kept her gaze locked on Theo's so he would know she was telling the truth. "I was going to the night you broke up with me," She admitted making Mattheo rolled his eyes and her brother look away not wanting to hear that.

"I didn't have sex with Theodore, but I wasn't a prude." Y/N looked straight in the eyes of Veronica as she spoke those words knowing that it showed who she truly was. "I lost my virginity to Mattheo the day before my birthday, 5 months before Theodore and I started dating." She told the group honestly. Sean looked sick because he didn’t want to hear that about his best friend and sister, Theo was angry and Veronica was surprised. The others not saying anything and just absorbing the information. “Besides there was other things done besides…” she trailed off before shaking her head and deciding against saying it.

Theo’s angry eyes burned right into Mattheo’s as he stood up and rushed towards the boy. Enzo pulling Y/N out of the way knowing what was coming. The Nott boys wand pressing against the neck of Mattheo. Of course, everyone thought that he wouldn’t do anything but it’s the fact that he would go that far.

“I should hex you.” Theo spoke dangerously low to his housemate and best friend.

“Now, why would you do that Nott?” Mattheo spoke calmly. Knowing nothing was going to happen and if it did that he could control the situation.

Y/N spoke up, knowing that it may make things worse but she hoped it made it better. “There’s no reason for that Theodore.” She spoke calmly, but her nerves were going wild for Mattheo. She knew he could handle his own, knowing where he came from. Still didn’t make her worry any less.

“This is rubbish, Theo.” Veronica started as she stood up and went over to rub his arm. “She isn’t worth it.”

Theodore shook her off and continued his hard glare at his best friend. “you took that from me.” He muttered causing the Riddle boy to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I was suppose to get that experience.”

Mattheo’s gaze darkened at what his housemate was meaning, “I didn’t take anything away from you. What experience were you wanting exactly? What claim did you think that you’d have on her?” He asked dangerously low, the patience in his voice wearing thin.

Y/N had enough of all this, she had left the common room without being noticed by Mattheo or Theodore. Who did Theo think he was, being entitled to her and what she had to give. It didn’t make any sense to the girl as to why he was acting like that. Pushing that behind her, she went back to the Gryffindor common room to hopefully have some normal time with her friends.

"Hey guys." Y/N greeted sitting her bag down beside of her and sitting down beside Hermione. Her friends greeted her back before they gave each other knowing looks. They weren't sure if their friend was aware of everything that was going on. "Are you all okay? You're acting strange..."

Hermione glanced around the group before turning her attention to the Nettleby girl, "Have you heard anything about Riddle? or has he told you anything?" she asked cautiously to not make the girl uncomfortable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, "No, why?"

"You know about everyone shunning Harry because of... his father and how his mother has escaped from Azkaban, and they haven't found her." Ginny explained to the girl trying to get her to understand their concern and everything about the situation.

Ron looked at Harry before turning his attention to the girls, "Harry said that they think his followers are planning something."

realization dawned on Y/N as her friends continued talking about the situation at hand. It was true about Bellatrix had escaped from Azkaban and she had completely forgotten to ask Mattheo how he felt about it, seeing as it made headlines. Y/N knew that his father was also back, or at least trying to make a comeback. Not only because she trusted her friends but because she could feel it. Coming from a family of death eaters allowed for this stuff to make sense.

"My parents are hosting a dinner that my brother and I have to attend." Y/N spoke making the golden trio and Ginny turn towards her. "I bet it has something to do with him." she added as she looked around her friend group.

"Please tell me you're not going." Harry begged in his own way to his friend. They all knew that Y/N's family was pureblood Slytherin's and death eaters, the Weasley's were even a bit unsure when Ron invited her over for the holidays when he found out that she refused to go home. Now it was clear that she was nothing like her family and wanted a different life, fighting for the good side of things.

Y/N shrugged, "I have to, or they will literally track me down." she mumbled as she noticed the tension in the room.

🪄

It was the time that she had dreaded for the past two weeks. The dinner that her mother had excitedly written to both of her kids about. To make matters worse for the Gryffindor girl, she knew it would be a death eaters meeting, seeing as almost everyone in Sean and Mattheo's group would be there.

"They're going to murder me." Y/N whispered to Sean as the youngest twin sat on her brother's bed as he laid out his suit. "I am a bloody Gryffindor, and everyone that's going to be here is Slytherin death eaters." The twins were still not close, but they were closer than previously due to her connection with Mattheo and after how Theo had treated her.

"I'll go down with you if they try anything." Sean promised as he noticed how distraught his sister looked. "Mattheo won't let anything happen to you either."

Y/N scoffed slightly at what her older brother had said, It was true that Mattheo was far from his parents when no one was around. But how would he act when multiple of his family's allies was in the same room? He had always acted a big stuck up or cold towards the girl whenever the Netteby's hosted Christmas parties and everything. "Our parents like you more, they'll make sure you live. They'll place the unforgivable spell on me."

"You'll survive." Sean promised before shoving his sister out of his room so he could get ready.

Y/N rolled her eyes before going to her room and getting ready. To blend in with everyone that was going to be at Nettleby manor, she had decided on another green dress. Something that would make her look mature but attractive at the same time. She quickly straightened up her hair and makeup before taking a couple deep breaths and heading downstairs to meet whatever fate was waiting for her.

"Y/N, you're late." Mrs. Nettleby scolded her eyes glaring at the girl in front of her. "You don't need to be a bigger disappointment than you already are." she muttered. A few of the other death eaters laughed at the mother's comment.

Y/N held her head high and stood up straighter, "Sorry mother." she muttered before stepping around her mother and going into the kitchen in her house.

"You don't walk away until I say I am done with you!" Mrs. Nettlby spoke harshly as her heels click-clack every time she stormed towards her daughter. "You should be grateful for the life that you have with us, we would have kicked you out if we didn't have a plan for you." she spoke in her normal harsh tone.

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly as she starred at her mother, "Plan for me?" she asked wanting to know what the group of death eaters planned to do with her.

Mrs. Nettleby gave her daughter a wicked smile before she grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and pushed her out to where the group was waiting for her. "Our daughter wants to know what her main purpose is, I think it's time we elaborate."

Sean's expression changed as he noticed the harsh grip that his mother had on his sister. He knew that his family treated her different since she was sorted into Gryffindor, but he did not understand why. He went to speak up before Lucius Malfoy stepped in front of the group of Slytherin boys. "I think it's time for you to let the adults talk." He spoke monotoned to the group of boys.

"What are you going to do to my sister?" Sean asked the father of his friend. His glare was hard as he tried to figure out what the death eaters wanted with his sister.

Lucius gave him a dark look, "that is between us and her, Mr. Nettleby." He spoke before ushering the boys out of the room.

After the boys had left everyone gathered around the table, the grip Mrs. Nettleby had on her daughter tightened as discussion started around the group of his army. "Here is what you must do."

“They wouldn’t hurt her, would they?” Sean asked nervously as he waited for the adults to break the spell on the door.

Draco scoffed, “they would.” He spoke monotonously.

Theodore had been ignored by Mattheo and Sean, but he was even look nervous now. He may have a grudge held against his best friend, but he would admit that Y/N didn’t deserve to be tortured by the groupies in the den.

Before anyone could speak up the doors opened and Mr. Nettleby threw his daughter out before closing the doors again. The girl’s shoulders were already turned slightly purple from the grip and fingernails of her mother. Her once neat hair was how messy and her makeup was smudged. A red mark shaped like a handprint laid across her right cheek.

Y/N didn’t dare say anything, all she did was take her heels off and raced to her room. Sean went to follow her but was held back by Draco who knew that Mattheo would want to follow the girl. After all, it was the boy’s father’s followers that did whatever damage to the girl.

Y/N rushed to her room and quickly got her duffle, whatever she had left at home was going back with her to Hogwarts. There was no one she could risk coming home again.

“Y/N,” Mattheo’s voice spoke softly from the doorway of the girl’s bedroom. “What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving.” She whispered hoping that they couldn’t curse him to get it out of him. She knew her parents would find her at hogwarts, which made her worried. “I can’t stay here, not with what they’re expecting me to do.”

Mattheo cautiously stepped into the bedroom that he was slightly familiar with. He didn’t want to startle the girl seeing as she was in a vulnerable state. “What did they do?” He asked carefully, he noticed the way her eyes squeezed shut and a tear fell down. “Let me help you.”

Y/N turned to him fully, so he got the full view of her. Her cheek now a slightly different color due to the impact of whoever slapped her across the face. “You can’t help me, Teo.” She whispered on the verge of breaking.

“Let me try,” he pleaded, hating seeing the girl the way that she was currently. “I’ll try to fix it.”

“I have to get out of here,” she told him. “I have to go into hiding or something.” She mumbled as her eyes finally fully met his.

Mattheo stepped forward again and carefully reached out and grabbed her hand in a comforting way. “Tell me what they want you to do.”

“They want me to spy on Harry,” she whispered. His hand gave hers a big squeeze. Knowing that she was best friends with him, sure he hated Harry. Most of it being because of his father and everything that happened. “They want me to spy on the the Weasley’s as well.” She added her heart breaking as she spoke.

“Maybe we can figure something out,” Mattheo tried to reason but they both knew better. Death Eaters showed no remorse for anyone, not even their own kids. At least, the Nettleby’s didn’t. “We can find a way for you to make them happy but keep your friends safe.”

Y/N shook her head as more tears fell down, “that’s not the worse part.” She muttered as his hand went to rest on her cheek.

“I’m sure we can get through it.” Mattheo reassured, his thumb wiping away the tears as they fell.

“They’re going to force me to become like them.” She told the guy that she cared deeply for in front of her. Mattheo paled, knowing exactly what she meant. It was exactly what his father and mother had been planning for him since the plan to get his father back. “They’re forcing me to join your fathers army.”

That sentence was enough for Mattheo to fear for the girl in front of him. It was enough to feel his own heart break. Because someone so sweet, caring, and willing to help others did not deserve to have that life that he was destined to live.

Little note: hi! It’s been longer than I hoped and I’m sorry many things got in the way but here’s an update. I hope you enjoyed and we’re getting to the juicy stuff. I did change the plot a bit since this went from a George Weasley x reader (rough draft) and I did a full switch to Mattheo Riddle x reader. I think I’m going to start adding a word count at the beginning of my chapters just so I can keep track of how many words I usually write per chapter. Next update should be out soon! I’ve started writing requests but I’ll catch up with blogmas first! 🥰

Tag list: @yoichiislovie @justhavingsomefun1 @lafrone @julesandro @prongprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @itsamusical4lifee @frogtape @blueeweeb @harrysnovia @kiwi475 @wildlyobserving @devotedlycrookeddonut @oi-itse @dear-fifi @grandtheoristpeach @dory-98 @lovesanimals0000 @supernatural-lover @joekbff @ivy-34 @jasmine2105 @cmervns @jetblackpayne @b4b3tte @xmadigurlx @thecraziestcrayon @whoknowsbut

I think I added everyone! If i missed someone or I tagged the wrong account and you wanna be untagged just let me know. 🫶

423 notes · View notes

mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

Any chance of some nsfw with guard puppy leon pls? 👉👈 I love the way u write him sm😩😳

tw :: nsfw themes (mdni!!), re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, sub!leon, masochism, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, leon being infected for like 2 seconds, (also no specification of reader's gender/genitalia).

⸺ ya'll.................. you can't drop shit like this in my inbox and not expect me to go feral. (i am also legally obligated to use this gif cause how can i resist).

let's say it's right after the events of re4. you and leon had spent an eternity dodging every kind of abomination known to mankind before you finally made it to safety. the government then took you in to study the effects the plaga parasite had on humans. however, leon was infected while you weren't, meaning the two of you would have to be temporarily separated. and fuck, being away from you kills leon with need. he just has to get his hands on you. and when his head gets fogged up with all sorts of disastrous scenarios (all involving you hurting in some shape or form), leon busts open the lock to his room and sets out on finding you. practically tearing the place asunder in his efforts, he finally locates you in a completely separate wing.

how fucking dare they take you so far from him? what if something happened? what if he can't be there to protect you-!?

his train of thought is abruptly cut off when he enters the room and finds you, entirely naked. there are several doctors around you, poking and prodding at you like a lab rat. leon literally just !!!!!!!!! at the sight, but is also >:( because of all these people putting their filthy hands on you. he is enraged at the people for touching you, but he also can't tame his heart after seeing your bare skin. he leaves to his room with his tail between his legs and his face adorned in red blotches. and poor leon hasn't been granted a single second alone to relieve himself, not with all these scientists and security guards surrounding him 24/7. (he got a little aggressive with staff when he had to seperate from you).

and being unable to relieve himself before he can see you and drown you in his obsession is destroying him. especially when he learns you've been moved to a safehouse all the way across the country, all while he has to stay in this hospital without you. he isn’t sleeping, he lost his appetite, and his body temperature has increased to a worrisome degree. the doctors even put down ‘hypersexual’ as one of his symptoms. and just a week later, leon is still distraught, but is all healed up. his mood brightens, however, when he learns he is being sent to the same undisclosed location. finally, he gets to be alone with you. and god, he is desperate.

practically tearing the front door off its hinges, leon searches for you through the house like a goddamn serial killer. and when he finds you, he goes feral. you don't have a second to even acknowledge the second presence in the house before he is all over you. one second you're minding your business and the next you're practically being smothered to death. on the counter, on the bed, hell, on the floor, leon doesn't give a shit where. as long as he’s able to ensure no inch on your body goes untouched.

leon tears your clothes off like a predator tearing apart the flesh of its prey. his calloused hands touch everywhere he can with almost religious fervor. good god, has leon ached for this. he's constantly losing air from latching his mouth all over you. he'll pull back a good centimeter, wait maybe a picosecond to catch his breath, before indulging in you again. and sidenote, he's a virgin (fight me abt it). sweet, innocent leon is so inexperienced but tries so. fucking. hard. all you have to do is sit back and guide him. every syllable out of your mouth is gospel to him, after all.

while his tongue is practically shoved down your throat, you bite down on the squirming muscle and it's just....…. instant subspace. his eyebrows scrunch upwards and he's moaning like a bitch into your mouth. his entire life, leon has endured so much pain, (especially right after the events of re4). but to hurt at your hand, knowing he is still safe with you? it is like heaven and hell in the same breath. so please, hurt him, bite him, rip out his fucking throat with your teeth if you want- just fucking do anything to him!

and leon is so distracted by you, he doesn't even realize how devastating he looks. his cheeks are as red as two ripe cherries; his eyes are wet with infatuation, brimming with tears. and downstairs, the vulgar sight displays a good 8 inches erect, on the skinny side with veins protruding the straight, pink shaft. his tip flushes an angry red and is overwhelmed with precum. you gently take it into your hand and caress the white-pearl with your thumb. and leon's voice literally raises several octaves in such an obscene manner, you wonder how he'll react when he's finally inside of you. but for now, your mere hands on him has turned him into a completely different person.

you guide his bloated head to your entrance and rub it into the surrounding skin, now slick with your spit and his precum. leon's entire body is shaking; his chest is flat from holding his breath in anticipation. 'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-' his chants huff against your face while his gaze is casted downwards, trembling from the sight alone. you could keep him here if you wanted, torture him even more. mock his whining while his swollen head is practically begging you to let him in and end this agony. but, he's just too damn cute. so, you give your poor puppy what he so desperately wants and push him into your soaked hole with ease. and the cry leon lets out is nothing short of pornographic.

"y-y/n/n-! oh, jesus, sh-shit-... uhn-!" his forehead is pressed against yours as he moans out for you.

when leon finally bottoms out inside, you let your spongy, sopping walls adjust to the length of his dick and try to calm him down (to no avail, unfortunately). he's too caught up in tripping over his words, attempting to verbalize the adrenaline coursing through him from just how amazing you feel and how soul-crushingly good it will be when he finishes. leon hasn't even started moving yet and he's already overwhelmingly drunk on pleasure.

you then push down on his lower back, giving him permission to begin moving. and the man leon becomes is that of a creature possessed. there is not a single moment spent being gentle, he is rutting into your thick heat like his life depends on it. he buries his face into your neck and everything just becomes so messy. your hot, hyperventilating breaths paint the air and your bodies are sheen with sweat as they stick together. his hands are locked around you like a lifeline, clinging so tightly to you as if he were hanging from a cliffside and you were his saving grace. (this is him basically). with his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, his hair clinging to his sweaty forehead, his jaw hung low with uncontrollable moans — god, you make him so fucking stupid.

'hmy- my fuckin’ god- y/n/n, i-... 'm-your- your stupid mutt, your dumb puppy... fuck, s’fuckin’ good, s’fuckin' perfect." you're not even exactly sure what leon is saying, with his voice muffled against your neck. but, when his voice is so whiny and slurred like that, you can only imagine how adorably pathetic the words that follow are.

drool seeps down his chin and pools in the nape of your shoulder. his mouth is all over your neck like a vampire, lazily kissing and marking your skin. with how overwhelmingly intense the euphoria is, he knows that one glance at your godly face and body will send him over the edge. so, he keeps his face nestled away. fortunately for him, however, you're not far behind from finishing. every vigorous thrust of his plunges deep into you, causing your body to jolt forward from the sheer force.

you grasp hold of leon's hand, causing his heart to practically explode in his chest, before guiding him on how to stimulate you. his hands rub against your sex with fervent, clumsy haste. and before you can even blink, your orgasm hits you like a wave. it is unexpected and unbelievably intense. every sound from your mouth causes leon’s dick to twitch inside of you, pushing him closer and closer to that earth-shattering finish. he is now full-on crying, his lewd sobs and pleads reverberating from the grip your body has on him. in the cusp of your high, you grab a fistful of leon's blonde hair and pull his head back.

you growl in his ear, "you're my bitch in heat."

and with that, leon gushes inside of you. a deafening wail permeates the room as he sporadically thrusts his hips against yours with bruising force. he practically bleats like a sheep as he cums and anyone lurking outside would probably think you were murdering him. leon fills you to the brim with his seed, the excess escaping past your entrance and staining the surface beneath. his vision goes white, his body shivers with rapture, and his mind is devoid of any thoughts beside you, you, you. the act of intimacy, to revel in your pleasure — oh, it is heaven. leon knew it was gonna be good, but never this fucking good.

every muscle in his body then goes limp against you. quiet whimpers pervade the air as he presses sloppy, soft kisses against your lips. chants of 'i love you, i love you so fucking much' escape his breathless mouth. and the look in his honeyed gaze... he is just so fucking happy to be back with the only person he could ever love, the only person he could ever need. it's clear as day, leon couldn't be more in love with you. but, when you try and push him away for some room to breathe, his hold on you turns tenacious and you can feel how he is still rock-hard inside of you.

you realize that not only are you in for a long night, but you are in for a long, long life beside leon.

okay..... this is my first time writing smut. like ever. if it's shit, pls don't be afraid to send some critique my way!! thank u !

#i have no idea wtf im doing #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #yandere smut #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

2K notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 13 days

Note

This might be rather vague, but could I request a Bucky fic based around the sentence “please don’t make me lie to you”?

The Truth » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and Sam Wilson/Falcon

Summary: Bucky tells you the truth about who he really is.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and Angst, language, crying, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I imagined this took place during Captain America: Civil War.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

“Can one of you explain what the hell just happened?” You say, looking at Steve and Sam.

Steve and Sam looked at each other before looking back at you. Steve desperately wanted to tell you, but it’s not his place to say. You kept looking at them, waiting for one of them to say something. Your attention was quickly turned to Bucky when he groaned as he started to wake up.

“Bucky, baby.” You immediately went over to him and hugged him.

“Doll…” Bucky wrapped his right arm around your wand held you against him. “Steve…” He looks up at Steve.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspaper in your shoes.” Bucky says.

“Can’t read that in a museum.” Steve says.

“Like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam says.

“What did I do?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“You didn’t do anything, baby.” You say, caressing his stubbly cheek.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Steve spoke up.

“Buck, does she know?” Steve asks him.

“Know what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What’s he talking about, babe?” You asked, looking at Bucky.

Bucky looked down, feeling ashamed that he never told you the truth about who he really is.

“You never told your girl?” Sam says.

“Sam…” Steve warns. “We’ll give you two some time alone.” He says, walking away with Sam following behind him.

You and Bucky were left in silence. Bucky couldn’t look you in the eye. He was nervous to tell you the truth and he hoped that he didn’t have to tell you, but here you guys are. Bucky kept this from you for a reason and that’s to protect you and cause he loves you so much.

“Bucky, what were your friends talking about?” You asked.

Bucky was quiet for a moment longer before he looked at you.

“Please don’t make me lie to you.” He says, his voice cracking.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” You say.

Bucky took a deep breath before saying anything.

“I’m the Winter Soldier.” He flat out said.

“Who or what is the Winter Soldier?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Me.” He repeats. “These people called HYDRA found me the Alps in the 40s, gave me a metal arm, and trained me to become an assassin for them.” He explains.

You took a step back, trying to process what Bucky just said.

“Babydoll, say something.” He says, his eyes tearing up.

“All this time, I thought you were someone who showed up on my doorstep injured for almost a year ago when you possibly could’ve killed me.” You say.

“No!” He quickly said. “I would never hurt you. I would never forget myself if I did hurt you. You have to believe me.” He says.

You faced away from him and walked away from him. Bucky managed to get his metal arm free and follow you. He gently grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shout, yanking your arm out of his grip.

Bucky took a step back, not wanting to make you more mad than you already are.

“You really think I would hurt you?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Bucky.” Your eyes teared up. “We’ve been dating for almost a year and you’re just now telling me the truth about who you really are.” You say.

Tears rolled down your cheeks. You didn’t want to cry and look weak in front of Bucky, but you couldn’t help it. It’s like a dam broke loose. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him as you cried in his arms, your tears soaking his henley.

“I love you more than anything, doll. Please know that.” Bucky says in a whisper.

“I know.” You sniffled, looking up at him. “I love you too.” You say, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

Bucky’s right hand caressed your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin. He leaned down and kissed you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with his.

“Please don’t leave me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says, pulling away from your lips.

“I’m not.” You whispered. “I love you too much to leave you.” You kissed his lips. “Don’t ever keep the truth from me again.” You say.

“I won’t. I promise.” He says against your lips.

Steve and Sam walked in the room at the wrong time.

“Sorry to break up your moment, but if we’re going to do this, we need a plan.” Steve says.

“I know a guy.” Sam says, looking at Steve.

“Count me in.” You say.

From then on out, Bucky told you the truth about everything. No matter how bad his past was, he still told you. He loves you too much to lose you.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

235 notes · View notes

fanfics-and-love · 1 year

Text

Reclaiming a Legacy

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood

Word count: 4k words

Summary: You knew someone was behind the new ghostface kills, but you could have never guessed it was your girlfriend, and that the reason behind everything was you, and your past

Request: Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader. ask

A/N: I wanted to give my girl Amber a better motive bc she deserves it✨

masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a bit of a bitch sometimes, but never a murderer. Sure, she was rude and probably lacked common decency, but when you two were alone, she was kind and sweet.

There was no way she could be ghostface.

And that was what you told Mindy, after the third time that day in which she had questioned you about Amber.

“Mindy,” you said, exasperated. “I love you. I really do, but if you keep insinuating my girlfriend is a killer I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m not,” Mindy said, in a tone that told you she was actually aiming at that, toeing the question but not saying it out loud. “I’m just saying, out of all of us…”

“It can also be the nerd obsessed with horror movies who’s related to one of the legacies,” you shot back. “Or the big sister that has suddenly come back after years of no contact. It can be anyone.”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “But if anyone would want to kill Wes…”

“No one would want to kill Wes,” you said, slamming shut your locker. “He was a good kid. No one held grudges against him. He was chosen because life isn’t fucking fair.”

You cleared your throat when you noticed kids around the hall staring at you. Great, you were going around school screaming about the unfairness of life; as if you needed people to suspect you and your group of friends more.

“Okay. Sorry,” Mindy said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You almost shook it off, still pissed off at her, but with everything that was going on you weren’t sure who could be the next victim, so instead you hugged her.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, pulling away. “It’s just— everything is too stressful. I can’t stand it.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just want to discover who the fucker is so we can all be safe.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m gonna hang out with Amber and help her with the party, so I’ll see you later. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” she kissed your cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Stop fucking in my couch, horny fuckers,” Amber said, pushing two kids away from said couch.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone from school within Amber’s house walls. You thought of Wes, and how he’d take people remembering him with a party. He would have probably hated it, but it had been Amber’s idea, and it was hard to convince her not to do something once she had put her mind to it.

“Hey,” you said, glad you had finally found your girlfriend. It was hard to miss her, considering her attitude filled every room she was in, but parties like the ones she threw were so overwhelming even she could easily disappear in the crowd.

“There you are,” Amber smiled, shortening the distance between the two of you. She rested the red cup in her hand on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around you, nose caressing your neck. “Mm… I’ve missed you,” she said, pulling away to give you a kiss.

“You just saw me,” you giggled, standing on your tiptoes to give her another kiss. She smiled, pulling you even closer to kiss your cheek.

“What? Can’t I miss my girlfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course you can,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. She rested her head on your neck, kissing it softly. “What got you so happy?”

“I’m throwing a party and I have you in my arms,” Amber said, pulling away. There was a glee in her eyes that made your bones chill. “What else could I want?”

“A lot, actually,” you said. Despite how close you two were, it was still somewhat hard to hear her over the music coming from the kitchen. “A million dollars, three hundred puppies, world peace…”

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I still prefer you.”

You blushed at that, kissing her again. “You dork.”

“A dork you love making out with.”

“That I do,” you smiled, tangling your hands into Amber’s hair as she put her lips on yours.

“You’re so hot,” she said, kissing your jaw. You moaned, tilting your head to the side to give her more space. “Fuck. I love you, baby,” she said. Her voice was sweet and velvety, just like how it was when she talked with you on the phone. You loved these moments where she was vulnerable; it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too,” you said. Amber was kissing your neck again, and you tightened your hold on her hair when she began to suck on your neck.

“You do?” She asked, pulling away. You were a little taken back by the sudden movement. “You love me?”

“Wha— of course I do,” you said, looking into her eyes. There was something there, swimming with the glee in the brown waves of her irises, something that made you want to run away from her arms. Instead, you pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“Even if I was the killer?” You tensed, trying to step away from her. She shook her head, dragging your body into hers. “Would you?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” You asked. Mindy’s voice came into the front of your mind; Do you think your girlfriend is capable of killing someone? “Are you for real?”

“Of course not,” Amber said, kissing your forehead. She sighed in anger when she noticed you were still tense. “Relax, babe. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Am,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Jesus,” she said, stroking your back. “Don’t be such a bitch. I was just playing.”

“Let’s just drop the subject, alright?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Amber said. She was swaying you softly, and the motion was helping lower your frantic heartbeat. “Would you?”

“Uh?” You raised your head.

“Would you still love me if I was the killer?”

“Fucking hell, Amber.”

“Would you?” She repeated. You remembered those random questions she would sometimes ask, out of the blue— would you still love me if I was a worm? Would you still love me if I took shits the size of cars? Would you stay with me if I lost all my teeth?

But that question… it felt different somehow. Like a test you weren’t even aware you were taking.

Would you still love her if she was ghostface?

“Of course I would still love you,” you said, hoping it was all just one of those times she would ask stupid questions.

She smiled, all perfectly lined white teeth popping out in glee. You were taken aback by her happiness, and even more when she pulled you into a passionate kiss. It left you breathless. When she moved away, you could still see the happiness dancing in her face. She looked like a kid that had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the kitchen while their parents weren’t watching.

“Oh, look,” she said, moving away from you. You were momentarily confused at the loss of her warmth. “Tara is here.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

The phrase “Welcome to act three” changed your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought as you hid from your girlfriend, Liv’s blood still fresh in your face. You had plans for the future, in which you moved into the city with Amber, and graduated college, and then got a nice job and got married. You couldn’t have planned for this. Who would?

Amber was ghostface. And you had been too blind to see the truth. If you made it out alive, you knew Mindy would never shut up about it.

How could you have been so goddamn stupid?

“Y/N.”

You turned to your side, seeing Sam kneeling beside the sofa, hiding away from Amber as she dragged someone into the kitchen. Sam raised her hand and gestured for you to go with her, and you did without even thinking. When you reached the older girl, you grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes.

“Fucking hell,” you said. You couldn’t even blink; it felt like your eyelashes had been glued to your face.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, moving closer. You could see her hands were shaking as she looked around. A gunshot was heard, followed by a ringing so deafening you closed your eyes as you covered your ears, cradling your face in your hands. “Fuck.”

“She killed someone else,” you said, still trying to wrap your mind around how she meant ghostface and also Amber.

“Ri—” Sam took a deep breath. “Richie. I— I heard his voice right before— before she—”

“Fuck,” you said. “Sam…”

“Y/N,” Amber called from the kitchen in a singsong voice. “Baby, where are you?”

Sam put her hand over your lips, pulling you closer into the sofa, as if it would magically cover the two of you. You saw Amber enter the living room, wearing the infamous ghostface robe. A chill went down your body at the sight of the blood on her face.

“Baby—”

Tara appeared then, hitting Amber with one of her crutches. Sam went quick into action, getting up and kicking away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

“Bitch,” Amber said, grabbing a handful of Tara’s jacket and pushing her away. You ran towards the girl, helping her sit up. Tara had fallen face first, and it looked like she had broken her nose, judging by the blood running down her chin.

“Fuck you,” Sam said, grabbing Amber and throwing her to the ground. She eyed the gun the same time Amber did, but you knew Sam was cursed; she had pushed Amber right into where the gun was.

“Not so fast, bitch,” Amber said, gun in hand. Sam moved to stand in front of Tara, and all you could do was stare at your girlfriend. “Baby,” she said, turning to look at you. “Come here.”

“Am—”

“Come here,” she repeated, voice sweet. You could see her finger, pressing harder onto the gun’s trigger. If you didn’t move fast, she was going to shoot Sam.

“Okay,” you said, raising your hands. You walked towards Amber, allowing her to grab your arm and turn you around, pushing you into her body.

“Ah. Much better,” she smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now we just have to wait for the bitch to show up. I’m guessing she’s close, right, Samantha?”

You saw Sam’s hand hold tighter on her phone. “How do you know about Sidney?”

“Oh, honey,” she laughed. “If Sidney is anything, it is predictable. I’m guessing she has already figured out whose house is this, and is coming with Gale to save the day, as always.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Tara said. Blood was still dripping from her face, and you were thankful when Sam held her; she looked like she was going to pass out.

“Haven’t you heard, Tara?” Amber asked. She was pushing you away from them and towards the stairs, her grip on your shoulders so hard you knew it would bruise. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“Fuck you,” Tara said. You admired her— she could barely stand still yet she was facing off a killer with a gun in hand; you, instead, did nothing as she manhandled you around the house. If only you could do something to stop her…

“Fuck me?” Amber laughed. “You little shit. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me?”

“Should’ve killed me,” Tara said. The girl looked terrifying, with a bloody mouth and eyes opened wide.

“Okay,” Amber said, aiming the gun towards Tara. You watched as her finger pulled the trigger, and didn’t think twice before slamming your body against her, pushing her into the ground. The bullet hit the ceiling instead of Tara’s forehead. “What the fuck?”

“Run!” Sam said, rushing towards your side to pull you up. With your help, she carried Tara upstairs, where you hid in one of the guest rooms.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. You were leaning against the door, breathing fast. “I can’t believe— fuck.”

“How are you?” Sam asked, always the protector.

“How am I? Look at Tara. I think she’s got a concussion.” Sam turned around to see her sister lying on the bed. She was resting on the side, and even though her nose had stopped bleeding, she still looked too out of it. “We should hide her,” you said.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here,” you said. You could hear the front door opening, and Amber screaming. What the hell was she doing? “She’s going to come looking for us. Tara can barely move. She needs to stay somewhere hidden.”

“She needs a fucking hospital,” Sam said, harshly.

“Yeah, but she can’t really get help until we stop Amber. She might kill the people in the ambulance.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded, swallowing hard as she looked at her sister. Running a hand through her hair, she looked around. Soon enough, your eyes met. “The closet,” you said at the same time.

You heard gunshots, followed by a door being slammed shut. You looked at Sam, and took a deep breath. “Take care of Tara.” You ran downstairs, closing the guest room’s door behind you. You hoped Sidney and Gale were okay, and that everything was over. Instead, someone dressed in a ghostface costume greeted you on the last step, making you almost fall.

“Hello, Y/N,” ghostface said. He was using a voice changer. “Fancy seeing you here.” Ghostface pushed at your legs, making you trip. When the person grabbed you by the waist and pushed into their chest, you knew immediately who it was.

“Amber,” you said. You felt tears in your eyes as you walked into the kitchen. Richie —holy shit, Richie was the other ghostface— was holding down Sidney. When he saw her, he threw her another piece of rope.

“Tie her up and go find Samantha,” Amber said. Without even looking at you, she tied your hands together.

“I’m fucking trying,” Richie said. The rope in his hand was being wrapped around Sidney’s hands. What the fuck were they doing?

“Jesus, you’re useless,” Amber said, taking off her mask. “I’ll fucking do it. Go find that bitch before she ruins everything.” Richie nodded, but still stayed until Sidney’s hands were tied. Only then did he leave, pushing the woman into Gale’s body. You followed shortly after, falling into the two injured girls.

“You won’t win,” Sidney said. You were momentarily surprised by her calmness, but of course, she was Sidney Prescott; she had probably gone through worse at the hands of ghostface and survived to tell the tale; this was probably a normal Tuesday night for her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amber said, raising her gun.

“You never win,” she went on. “You think you do, then you make some mistake and it all goes to shit. I’ve seen it happen before, four times. It’s better if you just untie us and let us call the police.”

“I’m gonna win,” Amber said, moving closer to her. “I’m going to fucking win, okay?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Gale spoke. It petrified you how scared she sounded. Was this really the way you died? “You could be the first ghostface that doesn’t die. I could write about you.”

“And what? Call me the bitch that killed your ex-husband while I rot in prison?” Amber laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You really want your girlfriend to see you die?” Gale asked. You were taken aback by her words. Of course she would go for manipulation, she was a writer after all. It surprised you when you saw Amber hesitate, lowering her gun slightly as she looked at you with dark brown eyes.

“I’m doing this for her,” she smiled then, all doubt cleared from her face.

“Ah, so that’s your motive,” Sidney said, sounding annoyed. “Love. I think that’s a new one.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Amber said, aiming the gun back at Sidney.

“Here she is,” Richie said in a singing voice. You heard struggles, and then he entered the kitchen, dragging Sam with him.

“Perfect,” Amber said. “What about Tara?”

“Passed out in the bed,” Richie said. Sam groaned in pain as she was pushed to the floor in front of you. “Tied her up and locked the door. Caught this one,” he kicked Sam on the stomach “trying to hide her.”

“Aw,” Amber said, in a mocking soft voice. “Aren’t you the perfect sister?” Richie laughed at her words, stepping away from Sam.

“Time for the big finale,” Richie said.

“Tara is tied up, then, right?” Amber asked. Richie nodded, a gleeful look on his face. “And Chad is gone too?”

“A bullet between the eyes,” Richie laughed gleefully.

“Good,” Amber said. The next second, she shot Richie in the head. All four of you stared in shock. Your ears ringed, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the loud gunshot or the sight in front of you. Richie fell to the ground, blood seeping out of his head and mouth. You almost threw up at the sight of his gray matter laying on the ground. “Now, the real finale,” Amber smiled, turning back to you. “Who wants to die first? Uh?”

“Me,” you said, sitting up straighter. It was about time you were the brave one.

“Oh, baby,” Amber said, chuckling softly. “No. No, you’re not going to die. You and I are going to survive, and we’re gonna be the final girls.”

“Jesus,” Gale said. “Are you out of your mind? All of this for… for what? To be the new Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and Juliet die at the end, you dumb bitch,” Amber said. “No. This is about Samantha.”

“My father,” Sam said. Even though you couldn’t fully see her, the sadness was clear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, all the guilt she would carry with her if she made it out alive.

“Yes,” Amber nodded. “Your father, your grandma… you have a pretty crazy family, Samantha. Once this is over, all we have to tell the cops is that you wanted to live up your father’s legacy. Once they took a look at your pills and therapist notes, there’ll be no questions about who’s the killer.”

“There’s always two ghostfaces,” Gale said.

“And the other one is right there,” Amber pointed at Richie’s body. “You convinced your boyfriend to kill those people as an act of love, and he did. Good thing I was there to stop you before you killed Y/N.”

Sidney laughed, looking at Amber with almost pity in her face. “And why would Y/N be Sam’s target? Just because? For this to work, it’d have to be Tara.”

“No, no,” Amber said, shaking her head. “You’re not taking everything into consideration.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Gale said. “You think you can outsmart us?”

“I’ve already done it,” Amber said. “Because I know something you don’t. Something that explains everything,” she shook her head, smiling. She looked crazed.

“Jesus,” Sidney said. “You’re even worse than Jill. Stop with the dramatics.”

“Y/N is Stu Macher’s daughter.”

“What?” Gale asked, looking at you. You felt as confused as she did.

“Amber, what the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Stu is—”

“In an asylum,” Amber said. Something shifted in Sidney’s face, something that told you she already knew. “Locked up for years. I know what you’re gonna say,” she chuckled. “How could he have a daughter?” Amber kneeled down beside Sidney. “That’s what I told myself for months when I saw the papers. I thought, “but how? It’s not possible”, until I realized that it could be pretty easy to explain since Y/N’s mom is a psychologist.”

“What is with people in this town and leaving important documents just laying around?” You murmured.

“You can’t be serious,” Sidney said, interrupting you. “How…?”

“Why do you think she got fired?” Amber looked at you. “For sleeping with a patient. With Stu. C’mon, Sidney, I thought by now you were used to secret family members appearing out of nowhere.”

“So that’s it?” Gale asked. “You find some papers and you decide to start killing people?”

“No!” Amber said. You flinched at the scream. “No. Of course not. I had to check everything. This was too big to just say unless I knew for sure. So I investigated, and once I was sure, I searched for a partner online. Someone who would appreciate this plot. Someone who would know how important Stu Macher being alive truly was,” she eyed Richie, on the ground with blood slowly escaping his body.

“Plot? This isn’t a fucking movie!” Gale said.

“It will be, one day. The two daughters of the first Woodsboro massacre killers, facing off each other. Isn’t it perfect?” Amber turned to look at Sam. “Spoiler alert, you lose.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Sidney said. “You know the danger you’re putting her in? People are going to chase her like they will with Sam.”

“But Sam doesn’t have me,” Amber said. “I’m always going to be there to protect Y/N. Always.”

“Not if I kill you,” Gale said. Within a second, she was up, taking advantage of the surprise movement to throw Amber to the ground. Sidney got up next, grabbing a knife to cut the rope, and Sam, to your surprise, ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. You watched everything unfold before your eyes landed on the gun that had once again fallen.

“Stop!” You screamed, gun in hand as you pointed it at the three women.

Amber had Gale by the hair and Sidney had the knife in her hand, raised to stab Amber in the chest.

“Baby,” Amber said, pushing Gale into Sidney’s body. “Lower the gun.”

“Y/N,” it was Sidney this time, looking at you hesitantly. As if you were going to shoot her. Were you? “Don’t listen to Amber. You can’t be sure.”

“I would never lie to her,” Amber said. She turned her face to look at you. “You know I wouldn’t. You know it, baby. I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

Your hands shook, but you didn’t lower the gun.

“I love you,” Amber said, in that soft voice you only heard late at night, head pressed on her neck while she ran her hands through your hair. “I’ve done this for you, so you could be the new Sidney— so you wouldn’t have to live under the shadow of Samantha.”

“Am…”

“She’s lying,” Gale said. “Once this is over, the moment you do something she doesn’t like you’ll be next.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Amber said through gritted teeth, grabbing Gale by the shirt. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her.”

You knew your time was running out. Sam had probably opened the guest room upstairs already, and once she was done checking in on Tara, she would come back, more than likely with a weapon. She would be ready to kill Amber, and Sidney and Gale will help her.

Did you want them to kill her? Was it an honor reserved just for you?

Were you going to kill everyone but Amber, and save her?

You weren’t sure, not as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready for your next move. Still, you pulled the trigger and hoped to god you had made the right choice.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #scream franchise #scream 5 #scream v #ghostface #ghostface!amber freeman #ghostface!amber #ghostface!amber x reader #mikey madison #tara carpenter #sidney prescott #sam carpenter #Reclaiming a Legacy

2K notes · View notes