#[gettin right to the angst i guess]
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keep it on the low
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism
word count: 3k
a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.
Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?
Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.
You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.
And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.
You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.
Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.
The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.
“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”
He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.
“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.
You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.
You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”
He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”
You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.
Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.
“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
He doesn’t.
Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.
“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.
"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.
“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.
"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.
“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.
"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”
His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.
“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.
“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”
And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.
Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.
More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.
He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.
His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.
You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.
"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.
He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.
"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"
You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.
And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.
"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."
You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.
"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.
But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.
You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.
His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.
It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—
"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.
But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.
"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.
It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.
"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."
It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.
Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.
"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.
"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.
Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.
He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.
"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."
And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.
The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.
"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.
"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.
"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.
No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.
"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"
You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.
"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."
At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.
It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.
Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.
This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.
He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.
Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.
Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.
He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.
And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.
He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.
"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."
You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.
"I'm yours."
thanks for reading! 💕
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller
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warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro
This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...
Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.
Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.
Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.
Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.
Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.
But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.
Simon who...
Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.
"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'
....
" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."
....
"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."
He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..
a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod imagine#cod x reader angst#ghost x reader angst#Ouchy my feelings#call of duty x reader#x gn reader#x female reader#x male reader
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Best Friends
✧ pairing: kim sunwoo x best friend fem! reader
✦ genre: fwb + smut
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, doggy style, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, angst??? lowkey unrequited love, lmk if i’m missing anything else!
✦ word count: 1.9k words
✧ synopsis: sunwoo is secure in what you two have, while you end up getting sidetracked and catching little feelings for your best friend.
✦ note: this is based off the weeknd’s song “best friends.” highly underrated song imo. i hope y’all enjoy xx
(i might write a prequel to this of when it all started, but only if i get motivated, lol. though, this is a stand-alone fic!)
༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘
You lie naked on your abdomen over his white sheets, lowered on your elbows, face down and ass in the air while Sunwoo fucks you from behind.
You’re entranced by the intoxicating feeling of your best friend’s thick cock thrusting in and out of your wet cunt. His hips are ramming against your ass rhythmically, causing your body to bounce right back against him at the animalistic act.
His finger nails gripped your hips and buttocks as he fucked you relentlessly, so hard that you’d be left with bruises and crescent shaped marks over your flesh.
A pillow pressed against your face muffles the whimpers and moans leaving your throat. Sunwoo tsks at your suppressed sounds and doesn’t hesitate in grabbing a fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, yanking your head away from what’s shielding your noises and pulling your head upwards.
Immediately forced to now be on all fours, your fingers gripped his sheets while you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure at his harsh hold and cock navigating your tight walls.
“Come on, let me hear you, doll,” Sunwoo grunts as he continues to move his length in and out of you.
He now hears you panting clearly and a smirk plasters over his face listening to your fucked out breathing in response to his cock bringing you stimulation.
“Is girly gettin’ her brains fucked out so good that she can’t catch a breath?” Sunwoo lifts a hand to grab the flesh of your ass cheek, massaging the skin before he gives it a harsh slap.
“Ahhh fuck— Sunwoo!” your head snapped back at the stinging his hand left, yelling in response to his roughness.
He chuckles smugly at your reaction, and continues to ram into you.
“Would’ve never guessed you liked it rough for such a cute, sweet girl.”
“Should’ve known when you basically begged me to use you like a rag doll after one month into meeting me.”
You felt that you have completely lost all your senses from the overwhelming sensation of warmth and fullness from Sunwoo’s cock.
You’re insanely horny, starting to pound back shamelessly to fuck as much of him as you can, feeling his cock so hard that it hurts so good.
“Greedy girl, huh?” his hands move around your hips while his own slam into you harder, his sweaty balls clapping ferociously against your cunt.
More filthy noises ranging from high to low escaped your mouth as you were on cloud nine.
You were so overwhelmed in stimulation from fucking.
The lewd sounds of you guy’s intense breathing and moaning, the wetness of your sex, and the sound of the bed creaking.
Your body being shaken and boobs bouncing from his hips plunging against your ass.
His hot cock pounding your warm pussy and tight walls, providing pleasurable friction.
Pure euphoria.
Your cunt’s walls squeezed around Sunwoo’s length once he starts hitting the jackpot that is your g-spot, eliciting a groan from his throat at the vibrations sent straight to his cock as a result of your clenching.
“Getting ready to cum? Let it all out, doll. Show me how much you enjoy being fucked dumb,” he grunts out, movements continuing frenetically.
“Oh— fuck!” You hiss at the familiar feeling of a coil in the pit of your stomach making an appearance. So fucking tight.
The penetration angle starts to become so intense that your pussy is ready to soak his cock in your cum.
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you cry out, seeing stars while quivering.
Your heart rate increases, ears are ringing, and legs shake as you let go, coating his cock in your cum and juices.
You groan and groan again at your release, completely letting yourself fall face into the pillow you were over earlier.
“That’s right doll, s’ good.” Sunwoo praises, hands still holding your hips as he chases his own release for a couple seconds more, listening to your muffled whines in overstimulation.
You feel his dick pulsate and twitch before he pulls out, hissing at his warm cock leaving your walls.
You unfortunately can’t see him, since you’re faced down on the pillow all fucked out as he starts to jerk himself off at a fast pace.
He grunts lowly, jaw slack and muscles clenching while spewing his hot ropes of cum across your ass.
“Fuuuuck,” his voice trembles in feeling the wave of tingly pressure within each pump and in seeing the whitish fluid coating your butt cheeks.
You were infatuated with the way he fucks you from behind. The roughness of it all, and how you have become his prey.
Although Sunwoo never cummed inside of you (he says it’s because that would be too intimate) you enjoy feeling his semen paint your skin after every fuck, finding it submitting and erotic.
Sunwoo likes to fuck you from behind and as he pleases because he’s using you to release his frustrations as a college student athlete.
You let him use you like a rag doll because you have an attraction to him— of which, he knows about.
And it’s starting to become harder to ignore when you look like you want to pour your heart out to him when you two talk and after every sexual encounter, when he just wants to have casual sex.
He likes fucking you from behind because he rather not see that dreamy look in your eyes as you guys have sex, or he might end up getting too caught up past what it is.
And Lord knows he can’t do that.
He stumbles over from his own fucked out daze, parking his rear on the bed right in front of you.
You two take a minute to regulate your breaths and bodies, shivers and spasms flooding the each of you as you recover from intercourse.
You crane your head to look back at Sunwoo. Wisps of his black hair are fallen over his forehead, sticking to his skin in sweat from the adrenaline and physical activity.
He meets your gaze for a brief moment with a lopsided grin. He then shifts his eyes over to your ass milked in his cum.
Your eyes follow his gaze and you slightly move, feeling the soreness of your cunt and the juices that are slipping out, definitely staining his sheets.
His weight on the mattress disappears as he gets up, walking away for a moment to find a towel in his bathroom.
He comes back swiftly, goosebumps dancing across your body once the towel in his hands makes contact with your skin.
He gently begins cleaning you up, wiping off his cum from your butt cheeks and cleaning up your own mess from your cunt.
You hum as he wipes the body fluids off, the scent of your natural pheromones and sweat filling your nostrils.
Sunwoo chuckles seeing the flesh of your ass move at him rubbing the towel against your skin. He doesn’t hesitate to playfully slap the cheeks, resulting in you gasping and then wincing at the sensitivity.
Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you bite back a smile. It doesn’t end up reaching your face as it falters instead, watching him walk over to his nightstand to pick up his phone to check the time instead of laying next to you with you in his embrace.
And that’s when the post-nut clarity crashes all down on you.
“I gotta wash up before the game.” a hand of Sunwoo’s goes to scratch the back of his head, eyes evidently avoiding your gaze.
You simply nod and purse your lips, feeling the awkwardness you two normally shared post-sex.
He walks around his room and rummages through drawers to find fresh clothes for his shower. You simply watch as he does so, loneliness and shame beginning to creep up over your mind.
His body suddenly makes way towards you, and you perk up, thinking he’ll finally kiss you— a forehead kiss you at least hope, only to weakly smile when his hand reaches on the top of your head, ruffling your hair messily.
“Thanks, doll.” he whispers softly. His hand falls to his side and he wets his plump lips with his tongue.
Your eyes fall onto said lips, secretly longing for them to sync with yours. You crave that affection from him sometimes, past the rough sex you two have.
How foolish of you to think he’d give you more.
Sunwoo purses his lips as he sees your eyes observe them. His body shifts uncomfortably, feeling awkward from the atmosphere.
He sighs lightly as he begins to trudge towards his bathroom, stopping once he reaches the doorway to turn and look at you.
“You coming to the game tonight?” he questions with a nod.
“Yeah, i’m going with the girls as per usual.” you tilt your head and propped your elbow up to rest your chin on the palm of your hand as you peer at him.
“Cool.” he sheepishly smiles. “You can grab something from the kitchen if you’d like, as always. I’ll see you later, y/n.”
And with that, he fully enters the bathroom and shuts the door.
Sunwoo quietly blows out air as he shuts himself in the bathroom, lids closing as he begins to feel like an asshole.
It’s heavily apparent that you want more from him, but he simply couldn’t offer you that. It wasn’t part of your agreement in this friends with benefits relationship.
He was the star soccer player. Notorious for breaking hearts as he prioritized the sport above meaningful relationships.
He didn’t think he was capable of balancing a relationship right now. It wasn’t in his cards. He was selfish and thought with his dick.
He also wanted to focus on being a good player while balancing school and maintaining his popularity.
Sex was an outlet for him. It made sense to just have casual flings and not put any meaning to it aside from fulfilling his sexual desires.
So when you approached him with the idea of doing anything to relieve his frustrations one night after a shitty game, who was he to refuse?
You two fucked hard when Sunwoo needed you. He fucked your throat and your cunt well after every encounter.
His only rules were no kissing, he won’t cum inside you, and your relationship remain a secret to anyone and everyone. It was plainly no strings attached.
He didn’t want to be held responsible for your heart if you two fall.
But as time went on, deep down, he knows he’s tearing you apart.
And you allow him to do so.
You swallow hard as he closed the door. Your body still lies naked on his bed, having no desire to get up.
Your face falls into your hands, sighing in frustration at the position you’ve put yourself in.
Unfortunately though, what sucks is that you rather have him like this than nothing at all.
There’s a power imbalance inherent in this with you on the downside, because of your stupid feelings.
You wanted Sunwoo so bad.
For his flirty personality and natural charm. For his respectful manners even though he fucks you like a whore. For his passion when he’s playing his heart out on the field. For his relaxed attitude towards others and life. For how he gets easily scared at the slightest of noises and things, of which, makes you laugh.
Your heart has caught up to you and it’s fucking you up.
You realized you don’t want to have sex as friends no more.
༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘
#ericscroptop#the boyz#the boyz imagines#the boyz smut#tbz fanfic#tbz sunwoo#kim sunwoo#sunwoo x reader#sunwoo imagines#sunwoo smut#sunwoo scenarios#sunwoo#kpop smut#kpop#kpop imagines
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Whiskey Sour
chapter four: between the sheets
Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences.
His best friend, for one.
series masterlist
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending
word count: ~ 7.7k
a/n: let the fucking commence!
chapter 4: between the sheets
Joel's birthday.
Your car is still in the shop by Monday—Joel’s birthday—so you’ll be sleeping at your dad’s place.
And so will Joel.
“Is this what you guys usually do for birthdays?” you ask, looking up from your studying toward your dad, who's stocking the cooler with beer. “Drink, eat, and watch TV until you rot or pass out?”
“Any better ideas?”
You roll your eyes. “Guess not.”
He opens the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t have a piece of—”
“Do. Not. Eat that cake,” you warn without looking up from your textbook.
“Jesus. Bossy.”
“That’s Joel’s cake, Dad.” You look at him over the couch and grin. “Once he gets the first piece, you can pig out.”
“I didn't say pig out,” he mumbles.
There's a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you offer, jumping upright and knocking your textbook off your lap.
“Did you have an extra shot of espresso in your coffee this morning?” calls your father from the kitchen, but you're already in the foyer, opening the door for Joel.
He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt, as usual, but wears them so nicely it's almost as exciting as a new outfit altogether. You opted for one of your sundresses, white and printed with daisies. “Hi,” you say, sounding more out-of-breath than you feel. “Happy birthday, Joel.”
Fuck, this dress. Is he supposed to sit right next to you all night without reaching his hands under that flowy little skirt? It’s his goddamn birthday—he should be able to do whatever he wants to with whatever you offer him. But Mike’s here, in between the two of you, forever. So, all he can do is kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”
You beam up at him, and he’s not going to last the night when you look like this, dress like this. “You’ll love the cake,” you tell him, ushering him into the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, you old asshole.” Mike pulls him into a hug and slaps him on the back.
Joel chuckles. “Real nice, man.”
“Don't mind my kid.” He jerks his head in your direction, where you've settled yourself on the couch again, surrounded and engulfed by textbooks and notebooks. “She doesn't know how to relax.”
“I know how to relax,” you say, nose still buried in your work. Joel knows you do. He helped you relax just a few nights ago. “Unless you two want to write this test for me, I’ll be multitasking tonight.”
Joel and Mike crack open a bottle each of Sam Adams and clink them together. “To gettin’ old,” says Mike.
I’m the one who sat your daughter on my lap and made her come all over me. Can a young, stupid kid do that? Joel just grins, feeling a little bit of primordial pride. “To friends who should learn to shut the fuck up.”
They drink at the same time, and you hold up a glass of water from your spot on the couch in cheers. “To being around long enough to remember when the Colosseum was built.”
Oh, you think you’re real fuckin’ funny. He’s got half a mind to drag you upstairs and stuff your mouth with his cock just to make you remember how good he makes you feel. Maybe it’ll fix that attitude; maybe it’ll just quiet you down for a bit. Joel shares a look with Mike, who’s trying not to laugh. “She said it.”
Mike sits in the chair next to the television before Joel can subtly usher him into the seat next to yours. He sets his jaw, lowering himself next to you, the corner of a textbook briefly jabbing him in the ass. If he looks long enough, he will see that your skirt has slipped up your thighs and the barest sliver of your ass is visible from where he sits. He would not know, of course, because he isn't looking.
“Can we do gifts now?” you ask, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Joel’s heart squeezes at the thought of getting a present from you.
Arms around his neck. Layers of clothing between you. Your body rubbing up against him, taking what you want. Sweet moans that hang from the ceiling of his brain. Stalactites.
What more could you give him?
“I don't see why not,” says Mike. “But since best goes last, you should give your present first.”
You roll your eyes and set all your things on the table, leaning over the armrest to produce a giant gift bag brimming with blue tissue paper. Joel, of course, does not look at the shape of your ass in his face. “Blue’s your favourite colour,” you tell him.
It is. He doesn't even remember telling you. Joel takes out the tissue paper and pulls out the first item. It's a cowboy hat, tied with ribbon to a green plaid-patterned flannel.
He looks at your pretty, smiling face. “In case you want to go back to your roots,” you supply. “I could see how much you missed the farm you grew up on, and I think you'd look great in a cowboy hat.”
Joel’s throat is tightening. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely.
The next item makes him frown. It's bright pink and slightly squishy and—
“A yoga mat,” he says. Mike snorts, hiding it behind his beer bottle.
“It matches mine!” He recalls the mat in your bedroom the day he helped you unpack your things. The tight black pants moulded to your ass. Do you want him to do yoga with you? “I know you've got a bad back, and it really helps reduce pain. Plus, flexibility is always important.”
Joel wants to bend you over that goddamn armrest and leave bruises on your ass in the shape of his fingerprints. You're awfully fucking bold, making him picture you folded in half and sweating, right in front of your father. But it's thoughtful. It really is. You want to help take away his pain, as if you don’t do that with every second you're in the same room as him. “Might have to teach me,” he says.
“I’m a fantastic teacher, luckily for you.” You clap your hands together and tuck them under your chin, and he's falling, listing, into a place he cannot crawl out of. “Open the last one.”
It’s in an envelope—whatever it is. Joel gently tugs out the piece of paper inside and reads it. The lump in his throat has migrated to his eyes, prickling the nerves behind his nose. “You named a star after me?”
“Shit,” says Mike. “I should've gone first.”
“It’s official and everything,” you tell him. “NASA has this program. I thought it might be cool to look up and know one of them belongs to you.”
He’s getting fucking soft with age. Joel clears his throat, his fingers trembling a little as he puts everything safely back in the bag and meets your gaze. He wishes Mike weren't here. He wishes he could pull you up against him and show you exactly how fast his heart is racing. You know him. You're so kind, so thoughtful, so bright. He doesn't deserve to have these things, but Jesus, he needs you so badly it aches. He doesn't just want you. He likes you. He’s excited by you and he’s nervous around you.
How can he simply move beyond a feeling like this? He doesn't think it’s possible for a person to walk past you on the street and simply forget. You demand attention. You deserve it.
“Thank you,” he says, because there's nothing else to say. He's a man of action. He will show you his gratitude. But it will have to wait, and so will he.
Your eyes twinkle, and somehow he knows that you're thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Joel.”
Mike's gift to him is a new toolkit, since his current one is approximately as old as you, and a new nine iron, “since your back will be on the mend soon and you can hit the course with me again.”
You wrinkle your nose. “You’re such a guy, Dad.”
“Yeah?” He pulls you into him, attacking your head and your cheeks with a flurry of kisses as you squeal with laughter. “That'll show you, smartass.”
Joel cannot ruin this. But he finds he doesn't have many reservations about ruining you for every other man you'll ever meet. He’s going to be selfish with you tonight. It’s his birthday, after all.
The doorbell chimes its broken melody, and you open the door to find an unfamiliar man staring down at you with a crooked smile on his face. He has shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes, and he's wearing a denim jacket, holding up a six-pack of the same beer Joel and your father are drinking.
“Well, hello,” he says. He's certainly Texan.
“Hi,” you return politely, though it sounds a bit like a question. “I’m sorry, I don't think we’ve…”
“Sorry, darlin’. Tommy Miller.” He’s quick to shake your hand, and your brows shoot up. Now you know why you recognise that smile of his.
You can't help but grin up at him. Good looks must run in the family. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy.”
“You must be Mike’s girl.” He clicks his tongue, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes glimmer with something you can almost call mischief. “I like your dress.”
You lift your brows. “I like your double denim. Very with the times.”
“Tommy, stop harassing her,” says your father from behind you. “Good to see you, man.”
He and Tommy slap their palms together in a purely male handshake while you take the beer from him and hurry back to the kitchen. “Your brother’s here,” you tell Joel in a hushed voice. “Didn't tell me he was so handsome.”
He cocks his head to the side, leaning his hip on the counter. “Yeah? He tell you he liked your dress?”
“He did.”
“That's his favourite.” Joel steps closer to you and you have to tilt your chin up to see him better. “He once said that to a girl who was wearin’ pants.”
You let the laugh slip out before you can stop it. “He brought you beer.” You lift the case onto the counter. “He must be good for something.”
“Yeah.” A hand slips indecently between your thighs and two fingers snap the waistband of your panties (white and lacy, because you need to have a little fun). “Toyin’ around with what ain’t his,” he says gruffly.
You gasp, practically jumping back from him when your dad and Tommy enter the kitchen. If you look flushed or nervous, neither of them say a word. Joel hugs his brother. “Good of you to finally show up.”
“Jackass.” Tommy claps him hard on the back a couple times. “If I’d known such a pretty lady was here, I’d have dressed better.”
Your cheeks feel warm at his unabashed flirting. He’s not a lot younger than Joel, but he's certainly got the brashness of someone who is. Joel pulls him into a headlock while your father ruffles Tommy’s perfect hair. “If you flirt with my daughter, Miller, you’ll have to match your nice outfits to your bruises.”
Tommy laughs, wriggling out of the headlock and giving you a wink as he smooths his hair down. “I think I look good in black.”
Tommy’s always had a bark five times the size of his bite, but Joel isn't fond of the teasing. Sure, he knows it's only teasing, getting a rise out of his brother, but he doesn't like the way you blush for him. “All right, I’m calling in the food.” Mike picks up the receiver and points at Tommy. “Don’t think I don’t mean it, dickhead.”
Tommy lifts his hands in surrender and Joel shoves him in the side with an elbow for good measure. You sit back down with your pile of books, and the younger Miller lowers himself next to you, breaking your concentration with all his questioning and schmoozing.
Joel grits his teeth. If he can't get a fucking second alone with you tonight, he’ll burn up from the inside. He takes a swig of his beer to cool down as you politely entertain Tommy’s conversation. He’s sleeping in the guest room tonight because you offered to take the couch. It’s his birthday, you told Mike, and his back will thank him.
The rest of the party is pleasant. The guys eat wings while you pluck away at a caesar salad, refusing to get your hands dirty if you're touching your books all night. Tommy leaves around ten, and Joel and Mike are both somewhat drunk by the time midnight rolls around.
It’s two o’clock in the morning, no longer his birthday, when he sneaks downstairs. He feels mostly sober now, chugging back a glass of water at the sink. Mike’s been asleep for an hour or so, but you haven't. In fact, you're still working, sitting upright on the couch with the lamp on as you study. Joel’s stomach sinks. The salad from hours earlier is not even half-eaten. You’re yawning every minute, rubbing at your eyes as you attempt to finish your problem set.
You hear a noise from the kitchen and look up to find Joel standing, watching, at the counter. “Hi,” you say in a groggy voice.
“Oh, baby,” he says, meeting you at the couch and sitting next to you. His hand finds your thigh, at last, squeezing and kneading your flesh like he's wanted to do all night. It feels like victory: restraint paying off. It feels like his erratic heartbeat can finally settle. “You gotta sleep. This ain't healthy.”
“Chemistry doesn't sleep,” you say with a pout. He wants to nibble that pout right off your lips. Your eyes are lidded and reddish. “Looks like you don’t, either.”
Joel plucks the notebook out of your hands and sets it on the table. “Enough,” he says softly, his hand winding around your waist and resting on your lower back. He relishes the way your body melts, your shoulders sinking and your spine decompressing under his warm palm. “C’mere, baby.”
You go easily onto his lap, your dress bunching around your hips. His mere closeness raises goosebumps on your arms, your legs, his large hand caressing your right thigh. He was right; you're so fucking soft.
Your eyes blink sleepily at him, your fingers threading through his brown-silver locks. “I like your hair,” you whisper. “I like your eyes and your smile and your moustache.”
Joel’s hand finds the crease between your thigh and your hip. He rubs circles into your hip bone. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your thumb traces his mouth, your touch so reverent even in your half-asleep haze, and he will never have enough of you. “Would feel so good… between my legs.”
His cock is stirring in his pants again, warmed by your telltale heat. “You know how hard it was not to touch you today?” He keeps his voice quiet, knowing Mike’s snoring away upstairs, knowing you're both playing with fire. “This fuckin’ dress. You wanted to tease me?”
“I wanted…” You gasp when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. It swirls around his head and turns it fuzzy. You’re an aphrodisiac. “I wanted you to touch me. Just like this.”
He huffs into your throat, his strong nose guiding the path of his mouth. He cares little for caution when you smell the way you do— taste the way you do. His tongue darts out to place open-mouthed kisses up the veins in your throat, your pulse fluttering under his attention. You are the heady pull of closing eyes at dusk and the sweetness of dessert.
Your hips grind against his cock the more he kisses his way up your neck, your wet pussy soaking through your little white panties. You feel so much closer to him than the last time, his need thick and insistent against you. He reaches the spot below your ear, sucking at a spot that makes you clutch the back of his head and press him to you, your cunt slick with your arousal. He grunts into your skin, licking and nibbling your earlobe, marking your body as he sinks further into the senseless plane of desire and he forgets that he isn't supposed to be doing this.
“Joel,” you whisper, urging him back to look into his pitch-black eyes. “I want you to kiss me.”
No sane man can look into those sleep-soaked eyes and say no to you. He tips his chin up and presses his lips to yours. It's soft, gentle, and it feels like Rapture.
He cradles the back of your head and gently pries open your mouth for him to lick into, sliding his tongue along yours as your breathing shifts and little gasps pour like honey from your throat. This is what he needs. This is the line that will reel his soul back up from hell.
Your lips are soft and your skin burns for him. His hands become needier, bunching your dress higher up your hips so he can guide his fingers higher up your thighs, squeezing your ass and shifting to the juncture of your thighs. The white lace. He keeps your mouth against him as he toys with the waistband, feeling it give and slide under his touch.
Your sighs send blood surging down to his cock until there's nothing left in his brain. All he knows is finding a way to get more: drawing more of those noises from you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body, giving you so much of him that you’ll never want anyone else.
Joel groans softly into your mouth and breaks away to put his mouth to your jaw, your chin, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back so he can have better access to your throat.
“Oh, my—” Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a stripe up your throat, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, every mild touch electrifying your body.
He reaches your sternum, right above the neckline of this godforsaken dress, roughly tugging down the straps off your shoulders so he can finally— finally —see your pretty tits for himself. It isn't a dream this time. The dress pools around your waist, sitting on his lap in your father’s home, rocking your hips against his stiff cock and looking so fucking tired, so fucking beautiful, that he wants to sink right into you and become one. It’s the only way to cure this itch.
He can never be close enough.
“Joel.” Your fingers are still in his hair as he kisses all the way down your chest, a rough hand grasping your ribs and rubbing a thumb over your hard nipple. He’s taking his time exploring you, his hand secure around the base of your neck, the other adventuring across the planes and curves of you, indulging because he finally can. You let him, because it’s not his birthday anymore, but he’s been so patient. He's waited so long.
And fuck, it feels good. Every tweak of your nipples, every playful nibble and suck sends jolts of pleasure to your cunt, the only spot of you he hasn't yet admired. Joel’s mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck.” It's more of a squeak this time, less of a whisper, and he squeezes your ribcage as if to stop your lungs from expanding, as if to say, Quiet.
“That feels good,” you gasp, your head falling back, the back of your neck still warmed by the press of his palm. “Dreamed about this.”
You're waking up, though still a bit groggy, with everything he gives you. He kisses his way back to the hollow of your throat and looks up at you with those deep brown eyes, glimmering silver in the moonlight. “So have I,” he says.
“You don't sleep.”
“No,” he agrees. The hand at your neck slides down to your lower back, to your ass, where he presses you down onto him. The graze of his zipper against your clit makes stars burst behind your eyes. Joel cocks his head. “Why do you think I can’t sleep lately, hmm? It’s because you wake me up. You and your body.” Another roll of your hips makes you drop your forehead to his. He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Can’t fuckin’ sleep when you're all I'm thinkin’ about, now, can I?”
You bite your lip, but this time, he can do something about it. He nudges his nose against your cheek and fits his mouth to yours. He dreams about you. He thinks of you. He wants you.
“I don’t sleep much, either,” you tell him when he lets you up for air.
“I know,” he says softly. You hold onto his wrist when he cups your face. “Such a thinker. You gotta let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel.”
“I…” His cock is so hard. It’s a strong, thick pressure against your thigh, catching on your clit with each drag of your hips. You won't come like this again; you need him to feel good. “I want you in my mouth.”
You can feel him twitch against you, his pulse hammering against your mouth as you suck on his pressure point. “Jesus.” His hands fly to your hips. “Baby, I… Goddamn, we can’t… can’t risk it.”
He's right, of course. It doesn't stop you from grinding down against him and nibbling his lobe. “But it's your birthday.”
“Not—fuck, not anymore.”
“I want you to feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his cheek.
“Jesus Christ.” He pulls you away, looking you hard in the eyes. “When I fuck you, baby, I want to hear you. I want to make you scream. I can’t do that here.” His mouth seeks yours, slow and sweet. “Lie down.”
Your eyes close on instinct when he kisses you, but your confusion lingers. “What…”
“Lie down, and go to sleep.” He kisses your forehead, and it feels like finality. “Tomorrow night, when you get off work, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”
You shift reluctantly off his lap, resting your head on the arm of the couch and spreading your legs slightly so he can get a look at the wet patch on your panties. Your tired eyes are doe-like in the darkness. “And?” you ask, trailing your foot up his thigh.
“And…” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs and leaving you bare underneath. You watch him with black eyes and a heaving chest as he stuffs your panties in his pocket. “I want you to wear that black thong you've got. You know the one I’m talkin’ about?”
You swallow. He’s seen your underwear collection? “Yes,” you say breathlessly.
“I never thanked you,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to your soaking wet cunt and spreading your folds open, “properly. That was one hell of a birthday gift, baby.”
You can’t help but smile. “I want you to be happy.”
Two fingers slide languidly through your wetness, making you twitch. “I’m real happy,” he says, “when you're with me.”
He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.
“Joel,” you whine, spreading your thighs wider, inviting him to touch you even though you know he can't. You know it's wrong.
“Tomorrow night.” He's tired of denying himself of you. He's tired of letting you go on thinking there isn't a soul in this world who's willing to fight for your affection. “Go to sleep.”
For good measure, he closes the textbook on the table and stands up, leaving you wet, wanting, and dreaming of the promise of tomorrow.
~
You’re quivering with anticipation when you hop up into the passenger’s seat in your little skirt and little black thong.
“Show me,” is how he greets you, his eyes sliding lazily toward you and taking in your whole body. His jaw ticks as you slip the hem of your skirt up above your hips and show him the scrap of lace tucked between your cheeks. Apparently satisfied, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives you to his home.
Inside, too impatient to bother flicking on the lights, he pushes you up against the front door and kisses you hard. His hands slide up your back as you wind your arms around his neck, your lips parting to welcome his tongue and feed your contented sighs into his mouth. Fuck, you're tense, your shoulders tight and your leg muscles strained from being on your feet all night. When his hands begin to wander, you have a feeling he knows exactly where you're hurting.
You whisper his name, passing it from your throat to his mouth, and you realise it's the first word either of you have spoken since you got in his truck tonight. He growls your name, not once letting you up for air as his hands feel up your arms, your spine, your ribs, the flare of your hips. He touches your body like it's marble, and kisses you like you're water: he could chip you away, and you could slip right through his fingers, but you're here, and he cups you so gently in his palm that the marble will not crack. The water will not drip.
All of the windows and doors are closed. All of the curtains are drawn, the lights off. But he wants you in his bedroom. He wants you where he knows the world will wait patiently outside a closed door and he’ll never have to worry about another soul seeing you the way he wants to see you tonight. He turns you around, backing you toward his room as you stumble to keep pace. All the while, his hands never leave your body, and his mouth never offers reprieve. His moustache and his beard scratch you, merciless, unrelenting.
Kicking the door shut behind him, Joel kisses you until your lips are swollen and your pupils are so wide they engulf your irises. He cradles your head in his hand, and you place your palm to his heart.
“You're wearing it,” you say with a grin. “The shirt I bought you.”
“Sorry I couldn't wear the hat.” Joel kisses his way from your cheek to your earlobe, nibbling slightly before he changes his trajectory downward.
“That's okay,” you sigh, holding him to you as he playfully bites your collarbone. “I want you naked, anyway.”
He chuckles into your neck. “You first.”
His hand finds your ass, squeezing roughly over your little skirt. “Teasin’ me,” he grunts, grabbing at the fabric, so blind with need that he can't think straight long enough to find the waistband. Instead, he’s pulling the skirt up and over your ass just to grab handfuls of your soft flesh. “Jesus, you're beautiful.”
“What did you do with them?” Your soft voice breaks in half when he snaps the band of your thong against your hip. “The panties you took.”
“You wanna know?” Joel finally yanks down your skirt, leaving you in your shirt and that pathetic black fabric barely covering your pussy. “I took out my cock and I jerked off into them. Came on your pretty white lace, thinkin’ about the way you looked last night.”
Your breathing stutters, your grip tightening around the collar of his flannel shirt. “Fuck. Take this off, please.”
So polite. So sweet. Joel clicks his tongue, backing you toward the bed. “Arms up,” he orders.
You obey so easily, letting him drag your shirt over your head. Joel unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, squeezing your tits in his rough hands and splaying his fingers over your ribcage. “I think about you,” he says lowly, “when I’m sleepin’. When I’m awake. When I’m supposed to be workin’. You have any idea how much company time you've lost me?”
You giggle, crowding him so you can press your lips to his throat. “You're your own boss. No such thing as company time.”
“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.” He hooks his thumb in the band of your thong, his other hand grasping your chin. “You gonna be good and listen to me? Let me help you feel good?”
There's a change in your eyes. Pouring cold metal into a cast and watching it melt. Reshaping it into something soft, malleable, warm. “Yes, Joel.”
Fuck, if that doesn't send all of his blood soaring to his cock. Joel smiles down at you. “Take ‘em off, baby.”
You back away to give yourself enough room, looking right into his eyes as you make a show of sliding your thong down your legs, stepping out of it and lowering yourself onto the bed. He takes his eyes on a path over your stiff nipples, your pretty, glistening cunt on display for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and it makes you push your chest forward with a bit of pride knowing he likes you like this.
“My beautiful girl.” He steps close to you, nudging your legs open so he can stand between them. You're naked for him. You're on his bed, wet and wanting for him. There is no compromise when it comes to you: he cannot let another man see you like this. A selfish man guards his treasures. A selfish man does not want, because he does not give away what he has.
You sit primly on the edge, peering up at him with a pleading look in your eye. “Let me undress you.” You pop open a button on his shirt. “Please, Joel.”
He likes the sound of your begging, so he nods, allowing you to indulge, your fingers slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “So handsome,” you muse, dispensing with the flannel and putting your lips to his chest, his soft stomach, the freckles on his body that you've never been so lucky to see until now. He’s beautiful. He is the sum of years you've never seen, the experience of a man who's made his way in the world with his strong, capable body. He is the only man you ever want to know so intimately.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, backing away to take in the sight of your naked body. “Let me see you.”
And fuck, you want to make him so happy. You want to make him proud, make him feel good. Your hand slides leisurely down your body as you maintain eye contact, tracing the path from your sternum to your navel. His eyes look black in the darkness. You ease your thighs open, giving him a good view when you finally dip two fingers between your folds and bring them to your mouth, licking up your wetness. Slicked up with saliva, your fingers circle easily over your clit, your eyes fluttering and your head falling against the pillows.
“That feels good,” you tell him, pinching your nipple. “Fuck, Joel, I need you. I need you.”
“You’ll get me, sweetheart. Just keep goin’.” He likes watching, it seems, making you go a little crazy, making you teeter precariously on an edge you'll never tip over. You push two fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your palm against your clit. Your moan turns high-pitched, your core burning with need you cannot satiate. Not when he's so close, looking at you, forcing you to touch yourself when all you know is the fire only he can stoke.
But that's what he wants. He wants you to know that he’s got you liquified in the little pool in the palm of his hand. You're his. “You…” Rubbing your clit slowly, you try to meet his eyes even though yours are closing. “You get off on this? Sick bastard.”
Joel tuts. “Did I say to close your eyes?”
“Joel, I—”
“Keep. Your eyes. Open.” You increase your pace, your hips bucking a little into your hand, and peel your eyes open. “Keep ‘em on me. Just like that.”
“I need…” You sigh in frustration, trying to give him your best pitiful look even though you know it's fruitless. You’re putty in his hands. You'll touch yourself for as long as he wants you to, even if you never come. “I need…”
“Say it,” he says, and you hate how soft he sounds. The kiss of a warm breeze at nighttime, the silvery wisps of air that curl up from between lips at the intake of the cigarette smoke. He coaxes you, coos at you, and it could be mocking, if he didn't like you so damn much. “Say what you need, baby.”
“I need to come, Joel. I need you. Fuck, I need you to touch me. I’ll… I’ll die if you don't touch me.”
Joel lifts his brows. Spoiled. You’re fucking spoiled and it's all his fault. It's your fault he's so hard, close to ripping a seam in his goddamn jeans, his cock throbbing and leaking precum. “Tell me why you're so fuckin’ wet. Tell me why you're cryin’.”
“You!” Head tossed back on the pillows. Eyes barely open, tears blurring your vision. Fingers frantically rubbing your poor clit to no avail. “You, Joel. You. It’s you. I’m yours.”
That.
That's what he wanted to fucking hear.
Joel unzips his jeans and disposes of them so fast it's like they're ablaze. Your fingers slow their relentless pace on your clit to watch his thick, hard cock slap up against his stomach. “No underwear?” you rasp. “That’s a little whorish of you, Mr. Miller.”
Joel grabs your ankle and manoeuvres you so you're lying flat on your back. You yelp, arousal shooting pants of pleasure through your body at his manhandling. “You wanna fuckin’ talk?” he grunts, crawling onto the bed and situating himself between your legs just so he can bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts with shock.
He holds firmly into your thighs, leaving wet kisses from your navel to your needy clit. It's where he's wanted to be since the first fantasy. The first dream. The first sight. You look down at him, silver locks of hair shining in the darkness, and your gaze is so reverent that his heart wants to beat its wings and unshackle itself. A heart cannot be contained with a look like that—it must go free. It must expand.
Your fingers thread gently through his hair, and it’s all the affirmation he needs. Somewhere in the air between you, two hands lock, and two souls intertwine.
His tongue is hot between your slick folds. There are already tears in your eyes from your teasing, but it's something different altogether when Joel’s mouth finds your clit. The pleasure is so hot it freezes your veins. You're locked in place, the space between your brows creasing, your mouth falling open, as he flicks his tongue against your clit.
Defibrillator. Each measured lick is a patch wrapped around a rib, a nerve, a muscle. Each administration hurls you through space. You're crashing into the stars on the way, bright white flashing behind your eyes.
Tactile. The scratch of his beard and moustache rubs your soft skin raw. Your smell, your taste, tang and potency and the nectar of your sweet, soft gasps. He's spreading you open on a banquet table. He's licking into your cunt and making you mewl like a whore. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, so happy.
He can't be going to hell. Hell is not the taste of you. Hell is not the way you fist his hair or cry his name. Hell is not—has never been—your face, your body, your voice. Hell does not know the shape of you.
This is the other place.
His tongue circles your slick entrance, but it does not push past. Not yet. He moves back up toward your clit, dragging his tongue across each electrified nerve over and over and over—
His fingers bruise your thighs. His grip does not relent. Neither does yours. You cry his name, wet and gasping, a drowning woman seeking the muffled, distorted light above the surface. Joel’s lips seal around your clit, sucking and lapping at the rest of you until you're shaking and he can barely hold on.
He does not stop when your orgasm crests. When your chest heaves in a ragged moan that sounds like pulling an open wound over broken piano strings. When your body stiffens, then relaxes, riding out the rhythm like a heartbeat as you come with such force that the pleasure has nowhere to go. Only up. Up. Up—
He isn't stopping. He's closed his eyes, drowning your anchor, forcing you to squeeze your own shut. He keeps going —licking broad stripes through your pussy, making out with it like he's fucking drunk off the taste of you.
He’s drunk. He registers your orgasm, but he does not register that he needs to pull back, let you rest, fit his cock inside you to relieve his own arousal. He can hear your weak, whimpering cries, can feel the way you jerk against him when his nose nudges your sensitive clit. He cannot grasp anything except this. You taste so fucking good. You taste like relief. You taste like all the chances he wants to take.
“Joel, I…” You're so weak you can barely speak, pushing him closer to your cunt, letting him take you even though you're not sure you can—
“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs tremble as you come a second time under his expert tongue. Joel grunts, apparently satisfied this time, finally lifting his head up from between your legs and pressing kisses from your thighs to your calves. He lifts himself up to his knees, securing your thighs around his hips.
His cockhead taps your cunt, a small puddle of precum gathering on your pretty clit. Just because he can, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the pearly white liquid over your pussy, notching himself at your hole.
You catch a glimpse of how his girth dwarfs your tight entrance and your eyes widen. “Joel… you’re…”
“I know,” he says. “You gonna be okay?”
A steely determination settles in the crease of your brow, and you hug your thighs tighter around his hips. “I can take it.”
That's his girl. Joel pushes his hips forward, watching your hole seal over the head, wet and fucking warm. “Jesus,” he mutters. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter.
“Focus right here, baby,” he says, patting your cheek. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking right into his as he feeds his cock into you.
You gasp, blinking away tears as he bottoms out, so thick and heavy you can feel him in your belly. And he’s so smug, the bastard, giving you that wicked smirk. When he rolls his hips, pushing the head of his cock so deep that it kisses your womb, you choke on your moan. “You’re… such an… asshole.”
“Tell me all about it,” he says, securing his hand on the back of your thigh and pushing it toward your chest. The angle deepens, stars soaring across your vision, and he begins to fuck you.
It's the cloying haze of ecstasy. Being inside you burns holes through him, cigarettes on skin. He's vaguely aware of the slick noises his cock draws from your wet pussy, the slam of the headboard against the wall as he fucks you into the mattress. His back pinches in pain and he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but you look so cock-drunk, your head lolling and your eyes rolling back, that he can't bring himself to care.
Your hands claw at his chest, his shoulders, trying to pull him down toward you even though your leg is bent back toward your head. He gives you a moment of reprieve to lean over you, his hand braced next to your head and his mouth slanting over yours. You hum happily, your fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, and he will do anything—anything—to make you feel good.
In a flash, he twists your leg so you're on your stomach, then hauls you up by your hips so you're on your hands and knees, all without pulling out of you. “Joel!” you squeak.
“Fuck. This body.” He slides one hand up your spine as he slams into you from behind, gritting his teeth and pummeling your ass with his hips. “This tight… fuckin’… body.”
“Ah, fuck—” Your body jolts forward and Joel grabs the headboard just to steady you, stopping it from slamming against the wall. He slips his hand around your chest and hauls your body up against his, lavishing your throat with his hot mouth. “Joellllll,” you whine.
“Feel good, baby?” he grunts, grinding his cock deep. You cry out, your hands blindly grasping behind you for a purchase on his hips.
“So— fuck! —so good. You’re so big.” The breathless praise fills his head with air, ballooning his ego, making him pull you closer.
“You can take it,” he says into your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts perfectly attuned to the response of your body. He's learned you, mapped you, and you're all for him.
You gasp his name, your head turning to bite down on his bicep as he fucks you so thoroughly that your brain is liquifying to warm honey. Joel grits his teeth at the twinge of pain, his balls pulling up as his orgasm nears. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, letting your upper half bend back down onto the mattress so he can rub your clit.
“Oh! Yes, yes, yes.” Your hands flex against the sheets, wrinkling them between your fingers as your cheek presses into the mattress. The rippling of your ass with every slap of his balls against your clit is a delicious sight, and the way your thighs tremble only makes his hips stutter. He’s going to come. He’s…
Your pussy clenches around him, your whole body seizing as you come on his cock, pushing out a weak cry. “Joel, I… oh, fuck.”
“I got you, baby. It’s okay. Let go; that's a good girl.” He removes his fingers from your clit when you begin to buck and cry from the overstimulation, his hand leaving the headboard to grab your hips. Now, he can fuck you hard and fast, your body limp and pliant underneath him. “Just let me… shit, let me… gotta—”
Your gasps are wet and your cheeks are drying from your tears. “Oh, my—” Your mouth drops open at his relentless pummeling. “Oh, shit!”
He feels the telltale splatter of wetness on his balls and his thighs before he registers that you're coming again. Your body shakes without abandon, your eyes squeezing shut and your pussy sucking him deeper, deeper still. It’s loud and smacking and slick in his ears, and he loses his goddamn mind.
His orgasm pinches every nerve in his back without warning. He groans, fisting your hair, instinctively pushing his hips flush to your ass and drowning your cunt in his hot cum.
“Goddamn… shit. Jesus.” He covers your body with his, his forehead pressed to the space between your sweat-slick shoulder blades. You can feel his breath puffing out against your skin.
“Joel,” you moan weakly, your knees close to giving out, your hips aching.
“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He hauls himself upright and pulls out, his cock pulsing at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used hole. “I came inside you.”
“I can feel it,” comes your muffled giggle, wiggling your ass at him. “I’m on the pill.”
He collapses next to you, tucking you into his side, his nose nudging yours before he slots his mouth over yours. You kiss him happily, sleepily, draping your arm over his broad chest. “Gotta clean you up,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”
You put your lips to the corner of his mouth, the patches in his beard, smiling against his cheek. “Shouldn't have manhandled me so good, then.”
Joel chuckles, smacking your ass. “Funny girl. C’mon, get up.”
You huff, taking his hand as he helps you off the bed, catching you around the waist when your knees give out. “Easy,” he laughs.
“Your fault.” You steady yourself by holding onto his arm as he takes you into his bathroom. “You took me by surprise. Didn't think an old man could fuck like that.”
“Smartass.” Joel gives your ass another slap and closes you both inside. He wets a washcloth and wipes it between your thighs, enjoying the little whimper that leaves your mouth when it drags over your puffy clit. “Almost done, baby.”
He cleans up the cum that has dripped out of your hole and your own wetness, leaning in to kiss you softly when he's finished. You smooth his hair back, smiling fondly at his tousled appearance, the way he looks so relaxed, so calm. “I like you like this.”
“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, observing the marks you've left on him through the mirror. “Scratched up like a goddamn cat post?”
“Couldn't help it.” You lean into him and press gentle little kisses to the crescents and red marks on his chest and shoulders. “Now those other ladies knocking down your door will know you're not up for grabs.”
“You tell me where those ladies are first, and I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind,” he chuckles, roaming his hands up and down your arms. “I’ve certainly never seen ‘em before.”
“Well, we women have a secret code,” you tell him. “A girl can tell. You're a hot commodity around here. Big, strong, tall, working man…”
His ego is getting a little overinflated at the ministrations of your sweet voice. He rubs his thumbs over your hip bones and shuts you up with a kiss. “Anyone ever tell you you're trouble?” he mumbles into your mouth.
“Mmmhmm,” you reply. “But you can handle it.”
Goddamn right I can.
#kiwisbell's fics#pedro pascal#whiskey sour#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo
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SINS OF A LAUGHING SKYLARK (XV)
|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XVI ||
PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 5.0k
WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, angst, use of guns & weapons, military operations, death, shootings, interrogation tactics, etc.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
Sitting in a guarded building halfway across the base, your ears twitch at every little sound from beyond the door.
Alex is here—so are three other men who fiddle with the guns in their hands and try not to stare at your deathly still face. You haven't spoken a word, and your mother, who sits with a medic stitching up her arm, calls out quickly.
“I-I don’t even remember what he looked like,” she breathes and Alex has a hand on her shoulder, squeezing while his blue eyes dart back from the door to her tear-stained face.
“It’s alright, Ma’am. We have cameras all around here. No worries.” He smiles tightly. “Let’s just focus on gettin’ you stitched up.”
The words are so similar to what Kyle would say to you that your hands clench under your chin, your body leaning forward in the chair. Your elbows dig into your knees harshly, and your unmarred leg quivers to jump up and down, restrained only by your iron will.
It was supposed to be me.
Your tongue pokes out to lick your lips, a slow breath pushed out on tight lungs.
It was supposed to be me.
Lowe is dead—Laswell had been brief in her explanation. Shot between the eyes. Your mother's attack had been a distraction, and while people had been rushed to her location, someone had gone in and killed Joey just as you’d seen someone do in the execution videos.
He’d warned you, too.
“I’m not someone's pawn,” you mutter under your breath, only heard to your ears. It was getting harder and harder to deny that every win on your part had been a set-up. Laswell had told you that you knew the answer already, you just couldn’t admit it to yourself—what did that mean? All you had were fractions; moments that were slowly piecing together.
“Shooter coming in from the East,” Alex’s radio buzzes, just as all the others do. From what you’d learned when Kate had pushed you in here, there were a handful of hired guns that had broken past the checkpoint only minutes after Gaz’s plane had taken off.
“How are there so many threads,” you grunt. “Why is there so much going on right when I’m at the edge?”
At every instance, all progress was halted.
“Bar the door. You,” Alex motions to one of the soldiers. “With me.” All in the room are more tense than lions. Alex and the rest rush to the door frame, leaning against it as the third man barricades the door with a chair under the handle.
“It’s like I’m being…watched,” you whisper, brows furrowing. “Even down to when the reporters had shown up at the mansion right after I found the journal—”
“Sweetheart,” your mother calls quickly, worriedly. “Get away from the door.”
You ignore her, your face grim and your pulse echoing.
“Ex-military being used as mercenaries. Leverage.” Your eyelids flutter. “Lowe said Samson had girls; a family. Could that have been something to use against him? Is it being used against other people now? A trail like this leaves behind blood—was Samson killed to try and cover it when it went South?”
And again, the biting question even you turn up blank on—
“Why was he told he had to kill me? Why was he told he had to kill anyone?”
Forget drugs; weapons. If you had to guess…Yaromir Osipov and Mala Kham weren’t even involved in this as much as everyone else believed. A setup? A lie?
By who? For what?
“What does this mean,” you growl, hands moving up to grasp the back of your head, your skull tilting forward. “None of this is adding up.”
Gunshots ring in the hallways outside of this room.
Only desperate men and women would storm a military base knowing that nothing they did would assure their victory. It was stupid. Reckless.
It was utter fear of something far larger than themselves.
This was never about your father’s smuggling business. This ran deeper than you could have ever anticipated.
Your mother’s voice calls your name harshly. “Over here. Now!”
“You need to stop lying to me,” you stand and hear your cane clatter to the floor. Your leg shakes, almost sending you over when you press your full weight on it, but nothing compares to the fire inside of your breast.
You walk over to your mother and stare into her eyes.
She startles, blinking quickly; taken aback.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“You know what dad did, don’t say you didn’t.” Your face burns—lungs fast-paced. Alex calls to you from behind, but even the medic who pauses at your sudden hostility doesn’t interfere. “You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t do that to me. You fucking knew.”
“You watch your language,” she snaps, eyes going enraged. “What are you even saying to me? Your father? What does he have to do with this?”
Your hands jerk, taking the woman by the tops of her shoulders. She yelps, surprise alighting in her expression.
“What are you—?!”
“Tell me the truth!” You yell. “You knew he worked in the smuggling business this entire time—you knew about his dealings with Yaromir and Mala before I was even born, admit it! The drugs, the weapons; his damn dock with all of his goods! You’re not being honest with me, even three years after he’s gone.” Your face is hot with anger. “If you didn’t see the traces of it, you’re blind.”
The room is utterly silent.
Your mother opens and closes her mouth, face open to the air like she’d seen innocent people get shot in front of her—like she’d had to run for her life because of someone else’s sins.
“Tell me what you knew,” you hiss, grasping her shoulders tighter. “Tell me what you hid.”
“You’re sick,” she breathes, looking around at the others. But Alex will be no help, nor the soldiers. They guard the door, eyes snapping back and forth. The medic only watches, unprepared for your outburst. “She hasn’t been feeling well lately.”
“Tell me!”
“Spitfire,” Alex’s yell makes your body pause, eyes narrowed in distrust as the sounds from outside get louder. Blinking out of whatever stupor you’d been in, your face freezes at the nickname, and your subconscious flashes to Kyle.
Stepping back quickly, you drop your mother’s arms and look away; shame settling in the lines on your forehead. But you pointedly don’t apologize, only moving back quickly and moving to press the heels of your palms into your eye-sockets.
Kyle. The shootings. Lowe. Samson. Blood on your hands, blood on your hands, blood on your hands.
It was supposed to be me.
You take a quivering breath, spine bending forward.
Gunshots continue to boom, on and on, and you feel your mother's eyes on you; unwavering in her constant attention.
There isn’t a single part of you that can look back.
—
You stare at the phone as it sits in your hand, your limping leg walking slowly along the tiled floor. The entire building was set on lockdown—along with the base. This place, however, was now filled with trusted personnel; soldiers that had served for far longer than you’d just learned Joey had.
Only one deployment had been under his belt, but that was enough to meet Samson. It was enough to know his character.
Maybe everyone involved in this plot hadn’t suspected the Private because there was never anything to be suspicious about.
Your face hadn’t let up on its tension, not for a minute, but in this tiny instance of relative calm—in some devoid hallway—you slipped into a storage room and stopped. Taking down a deep breath, your eyes flutter as your phone illuminates cleaning supplies.
Tapping into your contacts, your thumb hovers over one of the only icons set there.
Swallowing down saliva, your fingers twitch before, without enough time to tell yourself to stop, you press harshly and move the device up to your ear.
Standing in the darkness, you let your eyes slip closed.
The ringing persists, putting you into some kind of trace the longer it goes on.
Ring…ring…ring…ring. Nothing.
You scoff, eyes opening as the phone dips down. Your hands shake over it.
“Figures.” Shrugging, your heart sinks heavily in your chest. Taking a firm step forward, your hand moves to let the device slip into your coat’s pocket before the sudden buzzing of it startles you. Head snapping down, your face blanks as you stare at the incoming call.
‘Brit’
Only a moment passes before you take a deep breath and settle the phone back at your ear, tapping at the green button.
There’s a long second of silence before a soft clearing of a throat.
“Sorry, Love. Was getting ready for bed.”
You forgot the nine-hour time difference. Mouth opening and closing, you ignore how your body sags at the smooth tone—that accent. He sounded tired, and in the background, you could hear the rustle of sheets. You had a sneaking suspicion he’d, in fact, been in the bed instead of getting ready for it.
“I can call back later,” you mutter, already pushing off the awkwardness that perpetuates the line. Hell, he didn’t even know about what happened when he left. Do you tell him?
“Woah, woah, hey.” A small chuckle. “No, it’s okay. Good to hear from you.”
“...Yeah,” you grunt, feet shifting.
Another long silence permeates like a lingering curse.
“...Everything going alright, then?” Is the slow and even question; a bead of hesitation. He wasn’t sure how to speak to you like this, and, neither did you. “No messes I need to clean up?”
Your body stills.
“Only the ones you make yourself,” you sigh, huffing. A slow infection of guilt hits you. “I don’t know why I called…this is stupid.”
Kyle makes a noise over the line. “You want me to hang up?”
“No,” you whisper after a second, head moving along the walls to look at the various items slowly. “I…I just don’t know. Things are weird.”
Feet shifting, your eyes lightly flinch at the pull of your stitches. While you’d been feeling slightly better physically, meaning the vomiting and the lightheadedness, there were still aftershocks. You were well enough to grab your own food now, and when you made your own coffee, you weren’t shocked at all to find it tasting better immediately.
“You?” Your voice asks.
“Nah,” Kyle mutters. “Have nothing to do besides talk—been running around ever since I got here. Good to see the boys, though.”
“I’m sure they’re thrilled to have you back.”
“As thrilled as they’re able to get, eh?” Your lips quirk at that. The near-kiss in your room strikes you in the stomach like a knife. “But it's been nice, minus the whole…being away part. Still don’t like how far away I am from you.”
“Careful,” you breathe. “Starting to sound like you like me over there.”
“Shit,” he laughs, and you fight the softness that washes your face at the sound. “You’re right. Better cut it off while I’m ahead.”
But the way his words still hold that serious edge makes your lips thin into a line. You wondered what your conversations would be about if you ever had the chance to calm down.
“The talk with Lowe? How’d it go, then?” A deep breath, trying to be casual. “Be honest with me here, Spitfire.”
Your eyes flinch a bit, your body shifting around as you tap your foot for a moment. People will look for you soon—you have to keep this quick. You’d just needed to hear his voice.
“It was another piece I can’t put together.” You end with that. “I feel like I’m running in circles over here, Garrick.”
Sheets rustle once more, a throaty grunt before a low breath. “I said it’ll all work out, yeah? You have to believe it will, Love. We have to keep pushing until it breaks.” A smirk is easily heard. “We all know how you like breaking things, Sweetheart.”
You raise a slow brow, smiling even if he can’t see your expression. “You know I like having you over a call—it means I can stop hearing your voice whenever I want.”
“You going to hang up on me?”
“You know, I might.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t,” Kyle teases. “You called me, remember that?”
“And now I’m regretting it,” your voice is low and sly; face hot.
Gaz chuckles, and your own mirrors before your heart slows to a steady pulse the longer this conversation moves on. You’d called him for a reason, and, steadily, whatever this was doing…it was making your mind slip back into a tranquil state. Part of you wanted to sit on the floor—roll up in a blanket and talk. About anything; about everything.
But you really needed to see his face, too.
Your tongue skates over your teeth, and you hum under your breath. “I’m thinking about asking Laswell for the USB. Try that code one last time. Think she’ll give it to me?”
Kyle’s sound momentarily stops.
“Spitfire…”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” your voice is low. “Please, Kyle, I just need someone on my side with this. Will Kate give me a chance to crack the USB?”
Perhaps sensing how off-kilter you are, the Brit relents with a tiny sigh and a slow response.
“I can call her—try to get on her good side.”
“Does she have one?” You quirk a brow.
“Classified.” Chuckling, your eyes stare off, delicate in every sense of the word. Like an arachnid, you dwell in this back room waiting to be caught—if only a few more moments to try and make your web; a small silk hammock of brown eyes and smooth words.
“Thank you,” your voice whispers. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“If I didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t have called back.” He huffs a few laughs, sheepishly admitting to you. “Accidentally slapped the phone to the floor, actually.”
An unexpected laugh is pushed from your lungs.
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Wasn’t like I meant to, Love. Startled me.”
Your eyes roll, amusement in your tone. “Startling the SAS Sergeant—I should get a medal for that.”
“Not until you get me the one you were talking about before. Still waiting for it.”
Your legs shift over the floor. “The one with ‘idiot’ on the plaque?”
“That’s the one.”
Your expression goes to exasperation, but the smile doesn’t leave. “Why would you want something like that?”
“Well, you’re the one giving it to me, aren’t you?” The deep tease strikes you in the throat, and you have to discreetly clear your throat so he won’t hear the heat rising to your face.
“Cheeky,” you, dryly, state.
“I liked it.”
“Go back to bed, Sergeant,” your grinning face is stuck to the door’s face, trying to study the woodgrain in the darkness.
“...Yes, Ma’am.” There’s a pause where you wait for the other to hang up, though the cut of the line is absent from both parties. Kyle’s voice smoothly comes back to grace your ears. “Call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, knowing he can’t see you.
“Okay…try to get some sleep tonight, Spitfire. I’m one phone call away if you need me.”
“I—” You cut yourself off, the strange sentence being choked down in your throat like a cinder block. Eyes blinking, you partially startle at the words that nearly slipped out of you to the awaiting ear on the other side.
“Right,” you quickly move the phone from your ear and hang up.
Standing stiffly in the storage room, your blank eyes dig ahead, and with a shaky breath, you stumble forward.
Moving out into the hallway, you swiftly backtrack to your room.
—
Sitting in your room, you insert the USB into a new laptop and lick at your lips.
“I’m sorry about…before,” your mother walks over, placing a plate of food down in front of you along with your coffee cup. You blink up at her, a sheen of embarrassment layering itself like paint along your eyes. “I was just overwhelmed. It isn’t an excuse, I know, but…I,” you pause. “I feel bad.”
Your mother sighs, and her hand comes up to rest on top of your head. “I knew.”
Eyes snapping up, you freeze.
“I never told you about it, because I knew it would ruin how you saw him.” She breathes lowly. “You don’t get to choose who you end up loving. It happens and then it sticks until something else pries it loose. You don’t have to apologize to me.”
Watching her, your fast words fumble over themselves. “But what about the drug—”
“I only knew the surface,” she backs up, shaking her head. “I would appreciate it if we left it at that, please. Even if we had our problems, he was the love of my life; when he died, I shut it all out. I had to.”
You look away swiftly, but it’s a long time before you can answer her. You had no reason to think she was lying about this. All of it added up to you.
A kiss is pressed into your scalp. “Eat up. Keep your strength.”
Watching her walk out of the room, your attention is torn away by the laptop booting up, eyes darting to it.
Questions on questions on questions.
Taking up your coffee, you sip at it slowly. Setting it down, you cringe at the taste. Stifling a cough haggardly into your arm, you rub at your thigh before getting to work.
—
Kyle rubs his face, sighing deeply. “This is all we've got?”
“And that’s being generous,” MacTavish mutters, sending a slow glance. “Laswell wasn’t lying to you—we have shit-all.”
“How is that even possible,” the Sergeant mutters, standing straight once again. He’d been bent over the countless mission reports for more than an hour, all fruitless beyond thin leads to individuals connected to your father’s business dealings.
“Rats are used to staying in their holes,” Ghost grumbles from the other side of the table, dark eyes shifting to where their Captain comes in from the main door to the meeting room.
A hand is slapped on Gaz’s shoulder.
“Good to have you back, Sergeant.” Brown eyes glance at him, a smirk flickering Kyle’s lips.
“Good to be here, Sir. Let’s get this finished.”
Price nods firmly, a hard expression on his bearded face. With strong legs, he moves to the head of the table and grunts his orders.
“Current HVT is in Tula,” he utters in that gruff accent. “It's the only lead we have—this isn’t something we can miss.” Gloved fingers reach out to the interior blueprints of a small townhouse. “Two teams will move interior and connect the dots. If this target is in possession of any intel involving Osipov and Kham, we need to find it. Soap, you’re with Ghost, Garrick you stick with me. Total, we’ve got two teams of five involving local assistance.”
The Scot knocks forearms with his silent counterpart, and Gaz nods at the Captain in understanding. “Time frame?”
Blue eyes glance at the Sergeant. “We have a window of thirty minutes for prep and transport. We need to move fast.” Price huffs, fixing his hands onto the collar of his combat vest. “There’s the possibility of non-combatants on site. Check your shots.”
The debrief is quick and thorough, and that night everything comes to a head.
Kyle’s body soon sits in the back of an armored vehicle, a night-vision rig on his head, rifle in his arms, and his body hunched forward on the seat. In the back of his pocket, his phone sits—set to mute even if he yearned to take it up and see if you’d called him.
Being away made him nervous for you. Such relentless pursuers…but he had to believe that the actions he’s taking here will make all the difference in the end. Keller can watch after you and your mother; he placed his faith in the Agent before, and he can do it again.
But there was an ever-present pressure on his chest that won’t leave. A weight. Some kind of fishing hook stuck into the back of his brain that pulls every so often, dragging him back to the pole.
He needed to get this over with as quickly as possible and try to find a way to get back to you. Even that first phone call had been layered with hesitation—you weren’t telling him something.
That only made him more worried.
“Garrick,” Price’s voice snaps him out of it, brown eyes snapping up from where they’d been spacing out. His Captain’s voice is low. Steady. “On you.”
The vehicle had come to a stop. Blinking, Gaz nods quickly. “Right.” Hand reaching out, it settles heavily to the side door and pushes after a glance to everyone in the seats.
Boots hit to concrete in muffled thumps, bent knees taking weight as eyes scan relentlessly like wolves.
It was deep night—a night where the air is even still in slumber. Mist hung like a pale shroud, and over puddles in the potholes, Kyle’s focus instantly hardened as he splashed through them.
Now wasn’t the time to think, it was the time to act.
He hurries down a long stretch of alley between the target’s house and the one beside it, slinking along with his rifle’s stock pressing into the clutch of his shoulder. His cheek rests against the side, breathing slowly.
Adrenaline overtakes his heart.
Conforming to the side entrance of the townhouse, he waits as Price moves past him to the other side. They look at one another, the bodies of the other soldiers surrounding them. Over the coms, Ghost’s voice comes through.
“In position.”
“Let’s do this,” Kyle grunts, intent on Price’s expression. A moment of silence passes—only the anticipatory carnage that’s to follow; unthinking minds as fingers pull triggers. Instinct.
The Captain gives a quick nod, and the hunt starts.
After a quick breaking of the door, they all move interior. The skeletal-faced Lieutenant and the Demolitions Expert take the upper floor working down with their team, and below, Garrick and Price do the same, going up.
Sneaking nearer to the kitchen, Gaz lays eyes on two men taking near the dining room. Body flattening against the door frame, his Captain mutters to him as he passes the opening undetected. “Drop ‘em.”
It’s a quick end—the only sound is the metallic clink of shell casings and the thump of bodies. Behind the Sergeant, one other soldier follows at his six.
Dead eyes stare ahead as Garrick passes, and he glances at them only once before moving on.
Waiting at the stairs, Kyle re-joins the main unit, and after a quick once-over, they all begin ascending as more sounds from the level above are picked up on twitching ears. The sharp hushing of civilians—the drop of bodies. It’s all familiar, but somewhat jarring after being away from it for so long.
Part of him had gotten used to the trials of VIP work.
There’s a shout from just above, and the rush of the job comes in a fast wave. The coms alight.
“We’ve got the bastard.” Soap’s sharp voice bounces off the walls and their ears, going through the house.
“Good,” Price barks. “Stay where you are.”
Cautiously, yet quickly, all of the men regroup where their HVT is being held—in his office near the South corner.
“Shura Makarovich Agapov,” the Captain’s voice is a low rasp as his body thumps forward. It was plain to tell that this game was getting on his nerves. Lead after lead drying up more than water in a desert.
This man was all they had.
Gaz blinks at him as the other soldiers move about the office, grasping papers with quick fingers and looking through them—looking for anything of importance. Lowering his rifle back to his chest, the Sergeant studies the walls; eyes slipping over hung-up maps.
“You’re going to tell me about your superiors,” Price’s voice lowers to a harsh whisper as he nears the man.
Shura Makarovich is a large man. Sure of his body so much so that Ghost had tightened the restraints until he saw the Russian’s hands start to go blue. Johnny’s grip never leaves his weapon.
“I do not speak to men who follow orders,” the man eases out casually as if not at all disturbed by the death of his friends and the arrest of his family. “Only the ones who give them.”
“I’d say I’m giving more orders than you right now, eh?” Price taunts, head tilting as he addresses the squad. “Anything?”
“Nothing yet, Sir.”
Price’s jaw clenches. “Yaromir Osipov. Where is he?”
“Yaromir Osipov?” Shura Makarovich’s face twitches. He seems confused for a moment, and Gaz clocks it instantly. The Sergeant’s brows pull in slowly as the hostage flips his tune. “...Why would I tell you that?”
He doesn’t know him, Gaz knows.
Price kneels down as papers are tossed and pushed to the floor; Kyle’s brain working overtime.
If he doesn’t know about Yaromir, then why was he an HVT at all? Why did the thread lead to him? His boots take him across the floor, moving to the papers on the desks, moving them as Soap asks a low question as to what he’s doing. Kyle shrugs him off, looking for something that could explain things.
“Ghost,” Price mutters, and the Lieutenant moves out into the hallway quickly. The Captain looks deeply into Shura Makarovich’s eyes before standing.
There’s a commotion from outside; yelling, before Ghost returns with a woman in hand, harshly pulling her over the ground until her feet stumble.
Gaz’s eyes shoot up, and he goes deathly still.
The woman only speaks in Russian, glancing at her confidant quickly and calling his name. Shura seems taken aback, blinking rapidly.
“What are you doing?”
“Where’s Yaromir?” Price gets up and moves back. Shura makes a play to bolt up, but Soap’s hand shoves him harshly back down.
“Stay the fuck down,” the Scot growls.
“What is this?!” Kyle watches, stiffly standing from a few feet away. All of it was…your face flashes through his mind, and before he can tell himself to stop, he’s moving over to Price on heavy legs.
“Captain,” he slips beside the man, his voice nothing but a murmur but the sharp shock is no trick on the senses. “What’s the play here?”
Blue eyes move slowly his way, face twitching.
“Sergeant, set aside,” Kyle’s expression tightens, dark eyes darting to the woman that Ghost holds.
“Price, I can’t—”
“You can leave if you need to, Garrick.”
“This isn’t the way we have to do things,” Gaz’s voice lightly raises, and that’s all it takes for Price to grasp his shoulder and take him out of the door firmly.
Getting lightly pushed out into the hallway, the Captain’s grim face swivels as the door is tapped closed with a boot.
“Are you in or out, Sergeant?” Is leveled at him without emotion. “We don’t have time to play morality games. You’re either in that room with me, or you aren't. Which is it?”
“We can’t have a repeat of three years ago,” Kyle’s expression is troubled, his once sure mind fracturing.
This wasn’t right.
“Price, there has to be another way.” Blue eyes don’t blink at him, but the Captain’s low sigh and the fix of his feet are all the words needed.
“Stay out,” Price eases, eyes moving over the Sergeant’s face. A hand pats Gaz on the arm, and soon the Captain disappears back into the room, closing the door behind him.
It wasn’t disappointment that the man had given Kyle—it would never be that. But some things had to be done.
Some people had to get dirty to keep others clean.
“Fucking…” the Sergeant trails, head moving in aggression and his legs shifting. His hand comes up and rubs at his chin, eyes half-closed in concern.
You’d gone and messed with his head.
Kyle’s mind flashes to you—the way your eyes had gazed into his as your lips had been so close. Your breath over his face. Even the pound of your pulse when he’d put his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.
How your body would melt when he pulled you out of nightmares.
This wasn’t right.
It had all been his fault. It was the type of guilt that he’d carry to the grave with him; one that would never leave for as long as he tried.
What he’d done to you…
“It’s fucking unforgivable,” he whispers under his breath, fingers tapping his rifle’s stock. He can’t let it happen to someone else.
“What am I missing,” Kyle urges himself, feet shifting along the floor. “There’s something there—what is it?! He doesn’t bloody know Yaromir, what does that mean?”
But what if Yaromir was never involved in this cell in the first place?
Brown eyes spark as a sharp scream echoes from under the door. Barreling through with a slam of wood, the words coming out of Gaz’s mouth are loud, but oh so steady.
It’s as clear as day.
“We know about the location in China.”
Wide eyes from all around jerk back to him, and Price’s face slashes from shocked to enraged in a mere second.
“What the fuck are you—?”
“Chiyou,” Kyle barks, moving closer on fast feet until he’s taken Shura by the collar of his shirt and forced him to his feet. The Russian’s eyes are jumping, his mouth opening and closing.
Gaz’s face leans in close, searching for it—for the one emotion he needs from him to prove the lie he’s spewing from your hypothesis is correct. Behind him, the tiny sobs from the woman are muffled by her hands.
“We know all of it is centered in Eastern China.”
At the fast sweep of fear, Garrick already knew he had won.
You’d been right.
Without another word, the Sergeant lets Shura drop and walks out of the room—already on the phone with Laswell.
TAGS:
@merkitty49, @mh073099, @littlegaypng, @babybooday, @underrated-youngster, @jupiterredolent, @idocarealot, @petrat97, @jade-jax, @roosterr, @escapefromrealitysm, @kysa32, @human-turtle, @aurora-basin, @terumisworld, @xxfeelmylovexx, @neelehksttr, @nezukos-number1fan, @20forty9, @homicidal-slvt, @emerald-valkyrie, @raissadoesthingslmao, @misfne, @hollyhopesworld, @wasteland-babe, @330bpm-whiplash, @anna-banana27, @sunnynomoar, @doggydale, @thecrispypotatochip @74478328, @blueoorchid, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @chestnutsandcurls, @vamqyr3, @lavalleon, @nebula67, @urfavsunkissedleo
#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#cod mw22#x female reader#mw2#call of duty x you#mw2 2022#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty x reader#gaz call of duty#gaz#gaz mw2#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz garrick#cod gaz#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#kyle garrick x you#cod gaz x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare
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hi! i’m in love with your imagines, how about an imagine about reader pranking vinnie, where she slams vinnie’s car door to see how he will react
PRANKS
thank you for the request ! i hope you like it <3
pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader
warnings; lil bit of angst (vin fr gettin mad, not knowing you’re just being silly), cussing, fluff , lmk if i missed anything
summary; you try to prank vinnie but it doesn’t go as planned
“hey, babe.” you greet vinnie as you get in his car. slamming the door, you lean over to kiss him but he pulls away, making you confused.
“why’d you slam the door?” he asked in a bit of a pissy tone, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
putting the car in drive, vinnie turned his gaze to you and asked, “got everything you need?”
searching through your bag, you look up at him and shake your head when you realized you forgot something.
“shit, i forgot my wallet. i’ll be right back.” you tell your boyfriend, kissing his cheek before opening the door.
you slam it shut again once you get out. vinnie’s grip on he steering wheel tightened, making his knuckles white. he didn’t understand why you were slamming the door.
you came back out of the house with a smile, making vinnie even more confused since you didn’t seem like you were upset at anything, or anyone.
climbing back into the car, you slam the door shut again. you felt kind of bad, knowing how much vinnie loves his car, but you just wanted a reaction out of him.
“got your things?” he asked, his grip on the steering wheel loosening.
you nodded, giving him a sweet smile before buckling your seatbelt.
about ten minutes into the drive you had asked vinnie if he could stop at a gas station. he agreed and made his way to closest one.
once the two of you arrived you grabbed your bag and unbuckled your seatbelt. “thanks, baby. i’ll be right back,” you said as you stepped out of the car. “want anything?” you then asked.
vinnie shook his head. “nah im good, thank you.” he replied.
you smiled and closed the door roughly once again. it was really starting to irritate vinnie but he thought maybe you don’t realize you’re doing it.
surely you meant to do it. he thought. you’ve done it more than once, meaning it wasn’t an accident.
five minutes later you came back with your snacks and climbed back inside the car, with yet another harsh shut to the door.
you were surprised vinnie hadn’t said anything yet, besides the first time it happened when you first got into the car. you wondered if he would bring it up again.
the car ride was silent for a moment before you heard your boyfriend sigh heavily, making you avert your gaze to him.
“what’s up with you?” you ask him, turning down the music a bit so the two of you can talk.
wiping his hand over his face, he sighed again, keeping his eyes on the road. you could see his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel.
he didn’t reply for awhile, confusion spread all across your face. “vin?” you asked, rubbing your thumb against his thigh comfortingly.
stopping at a red light, he finally turns to look at you. “what’s up with me, what’s up with you?’ he asks, his tone harsh.
this isn’t what you wanted to happen, you thought he’d find it at least a little funny, but you guessed wrong.
“nothings up with me, vinnie,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest.
the light turns green and the two of you continue driving, hearing a huff from vinnie minutes later.
as the night continued nothing was heard from the boy across from you, you tried to talk to him but he’d just ignore you.
finally, you guys arrived to where vinnie had planned to take you. pulling into a parking spot, he shut off the car and turned to face you.
“come on, we’re gonna miss it!” you say, grabbing your things and opening the door.
vinnie had taken you to go watch the sunset, one of your favorite things to do with each other.
you climb out of the car and shut the door the same way you have been this entire time.
vinnie climbs out of the car muttering a string of curse words, wondering why you’re acting the way you are.
grabbing your hand, he threads your fingers together, even if he’s a bit pissed at you, he still wants to feel your touch.
“i forgot my phone from the car, can we go back real quick?” you ask him, vinnie nods.
once you’re at the car you open the door and grab your phone, slamming the door shut after.
“y/n, what the fuck is up with you?” he couldn’t hold in his emotion anymore.
furrowing your eyebrows you ask, “what do you mean? i just needed to grab my phone.”
the blonde huffs, crossing his arms against his chest. “you’ve been slamming the damn door all day!” he exclaims, obviously upset.
you mimic his actions, crossing your arms. “i’m sorry, vinnie. i didnt notice.”
vinnie laughs in disbelief. “yeah, okay,” he replies before walking away.
as you watch him walk away you can’t help but feel upset that you got your boyfriend mad. you didn’t mean to, you just wanted some sort of reaction.
“vin, wait,” you shout as you make your way to him. you pull his arm so he can turn around and face you. “do you wanna go?”
“you wanna get back in the car so you can slam the door again and piss me off more?” he asks.
rolling his eyes, vinnie storms off away from you, making you laugh at how childish he’s being.
you let him walk away, seeing just how upset he’d get. you watch him kick some rocks on the ground and what seems to be mumbling something.
after a while, you felt awful about getting your boyfriend so upset. you walk up to him and tug at his arm.
“vinnie,” you say, trying to get his attention, tugging at his jacket a bit. “vin.”
he finally turns around and when he does you can see the bit of anger in him. “what?” he spats at you.
“let me talk to you, please.” you say, trying to calm him down.
you grab vinnie’s hand and the two of you walk to a picnic table that’s cleared of any people. sitting down, you grab his hands from across the table and rub your thumbs over his knuckles.
“i’m sorry for upsetting you, baby. i just thought it’d be a funny prank and to see what kind of reaction out of you.” you explain.
vinnie smiles, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing them. “well you got one,” he laughs, making you laugh with him. “but i’m sorry for yelling at you.”
you stand up, walking around the table and grabbing his hands in yours. you pull him up and off the table, lacing his fingers in yours.
“can we stargaze?” you ask, noticing the sun was now gone and the stars were out.
vinnie nods his head, wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you closer to him. “come on, pretty, we’re gonna miss it.” he says, repeating your words from earlier.
making it to the top of the hill, you two sit on the grass, your head resting on vinnie’s shoulder as his arm is wrapped around you, keeping you close.
vinnie kisses your head, making you smile. you look up at him and kiss him softly. “i’m sorry, vin.”
he looks puzzled. “for what?” he asks.
you sigh, turning your body to properly face him. “i’m sorry for slamming your car door, i’m sorry for getting you so riled up and mad at me.” you explain.
vinnie shakes his head. “it’s okay, princess. i shouldn’t have gotten so upset with you,” he says, holding your hands in his. “i love you.”
you smile, kissing him passionately, a huge grin spread across both your faces when you pull away.
“i love you too, vin.”
hiii i hope you liked this !!! ofc i had to end it w a happy ending cus that’s just me 🤗
but i hope you enjoyed it !! i loved writing it !!!
TAGS: @slvthrs @forevergirlposts @leqonsluv3r @bernelflo !!
#vhackerr#vinniehacker#vincent hacker#vinnie hacker blurb#vinnie hacker fluff#vinnie hacker imagines#vinnie hacker smut#vinniehackerfanfic#vvhacker
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A new killer is born (Sinclair daughter!reader)
Hello @lupinlovr!! I know it has been almost a year since you commented one of my fic saying:
"what if reader brings her bf home and her parents actually love him (they are still very protective, especially Bo) and the bf finds out what they do, but supports it and wants to help out?",
But today is the day I finally post for it (the proof even miracles can happen)!!
Hope you'll enjoy <3
Warnings: no proof reading, killing, blood, very morally grey boyfriend and reader, slight angst, fluff
Your boyfriend had always been very eager to meet your parents, because he strongly believed in family and he didn’t have any.
You had explained to him that your parents were quite intense, and you weren’t too sure it was a good idea, especially because they were very protective of you.
But because you also thought he might be the love of your life, and that he might be able to understand the family business, you wanted to give it a shot.
You were at at family dinner.
“So” you started and your dads instantly looked up at you “I’m currently with someone” you said and you saw Bo’s jaw clenching. “And he'd really like to meet y’all” you finished.
“Why that?” Bo asked
“He’s a family man” you replied, knowing it would please your father “But he doesn’t have any relatives, so he’d like to be one of us”
“Ya’re plannin’ on gettin’ married then?” Bo asked again
“Well... why not. I really love him and he really loves me” you replied
“I’ll be the judge of that” Bo hummed, but he noted you weren’t against the idea of getting married, which was new
“So ya’d be ok with him comin’ here?” you asked and Bo shrugged
“We’ll have to be careful for him to not notice anythin’. What do ya think Vince?” he asked his brother
Are you sure it’s a good idea? Vincent questioned you. Is it only what your boyfriend wants or do you also want him here?
“Well ’m always a bit nervous to introduce people to ya because ya're intense…” you started
“We’re not intense, we just want the best for our daughter” Bo cut you and you rolled your eyes at him
“Yes, father, I know that. But I really think… I mean ’m gonna be the head of the Sinclair family one day, but I can’t be the head if there’s no one else in the family, can I? He knows how to use a gun and he doesn’t mind violence that much… He’s obeyin’ me well too. He definitely has potential to be one of us” you explained and the brothers exchanged a look.
“So ya’d like to have kids with him too?” Lester asked because so far you had never talked about family that way
“Why not” you replied again and the twins arched an eyebrow at you.
“That’s new” Bo commented “Well, bring him here, but..."
“But if ya ain't findin' him suitable, ya kill him?” you asked and the three men nodded at you. You sighed “Alright then”
Your boyfriend was very excited when you told him your parents were eager to meet him as well.
As you drove to Ambrose, you noticed your boyfriend looking around, and he seemed a little bit surprised to realise how empty things were.
You finally arrived in town and you parked in front of Bo’s garage, like you often did.
Bo exited his garage to meet the two of you. He smiled at you and you gave him a hug. You then turned around to introduce your boyfriend.
Your father inspected the boy in front of him before shaking his hand.
“Welcome to Ambrose, I guess” Bo hummed and you rolled your eyes
The fact Bo didn’t kill your boyfriend right away was actually a good sign though.
“It’s really an honour to be here. Your daughter always talks about you and Ambrose with so much love and passion” your boyfriend said. Bo smiled and kissed your temple
“Yeah, she’s a good girl to her family” Bo commented and you smiled back at him. “Hope ya’re good to her too” Bo hummed, his blue eyes piercing through his soul.
“Of course!” your boyfriend exclaimed and he sent you a look for your confirmation
“Of course, or he wouldn't be here” you replied and you smiled reassuringly to both of them.
You were about to add something when you saw Lester’s truck coming in. He parked close by and exited his truck, going right to you. He gave you a bear hug and you giggled at the attention.
You also introduced your boyfriend to Lester and as you had planned it, Lester was nicer.
He shook his hand and asked him how the travel was and did all the small talk that helped put your boyfriend at ease. You were grateful for that.
The four of you kept talking, even if Bo was more observing than participating. You leaned against his side and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“He’s not half bad” he whispered into your ear and you smiled, “Don’t believe I won’t kill him if he displeased me though” he quickly added and you nodded.
“How ‘bout ya prepare us some lemonade, girl?” Bo finally said, knowing that his twin also wanted to have a closer look at the young man you brought home.
You quickly nodded and left Bo’s side. You grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and guided him towards the house as Lester and Bo stayed at the garage to exchange their first impressions on your boyfriend.
You entered the house and you gently asked your boyfriend to stay in the kitchen. You reminded him he was about to meet the masked twin and that he really needed to not stare at Vincent or it would upset him.
And no one wanted Vincent to be upset.
Your boyfriend nodded, without knowing how close to death he was going to be.
He stayed in the kitchen as you knocked at the basement door before going downstairs. Vincent was in the middle of some project but he put his tools down when he saw you. You smiled at him and removed enough of his mask to kiss his cheek. You told him your boyfriend was upstairs, even if Vincent already knew that.
You felt he was really reluctant so you tried to reassure him. What did the trick was that you told him it was okay if he needed to kill your boyfriend. You really loved him, but between him and your family, you would always choose the last one.
You were a Sinclair before anything else.
Your boyfriend actually handled pretty well the first interaction with Vincent and things went smoothly. You even had a family dinner all together. Vincent removed his mask to eat, which was a big proof your boyfriend had done pretty good so far.
You all had a good time and the four men around you relaxed a lot, and you did too.
Bo even let your boyfriend sleep in your room!
(Vincent checked on the two of you in the middle of the night, and you were cutely sleeping, all cuddled up into each other's arms).
But the next day, things seemed to go downhill. A group of tourists came and you weren’t too sure what to do to prevent your boyfriend from noticing anything or from asking questions.
And you couldn’t do much when you heard gunshots.
You wanted to stop your boyfriend, but he was quick and ready to protect his people. He found a knife in the kitchen and you grabbed one too.
You saw your father fighting with a man and you started to run towards him.
Your boyfriend was quicker and he grabbed the man and stabbed him without a second of hesitation. Both you and Bo watched him in pure surprise.
“More fuckers ran away. Vince must be takin’ care of them. But better check out and help” Bo said and your boyfriend nodded.
The three of you started to look through the whole town and you got rid of the last tourists.
Once the job was done, you found your boyfriend in the House of Wax, with Vincent. Their knives were covered in blood and they both were pulling dead bodies behind them.
“Hey, babe, I can explain” you started as you walked to them.
Your boyfriend shook his head “No, no need to explain anything, love. If you kill people here, then I'll start killing too. What do we do with the dead bodies though?” he asked with a tilt of the head.
“This” you replied and you gestured towards the wax statues surrounding the three of you.
“Oh” he hummed “This is smart” your boyfriend continued “I’m eager to help in any way” he said
Vincent signed something for you to translate to your boyfriend. You brightly smiled.
“Welcome to the family” you translated as you leaned to passionately kiss your future husband (Bo was going to make sure of it).
--
Taglist : @kawaistrawberry21
#house of wax (2005)#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x daughter#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x y/n#vincent sinclair x y/n#vincent sinclair x you#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x daughter#lester sinclair x daughter#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x you#lester sinclair x y/n#house of wax headcanons#slasher x daughter#slasher x you#slasher x reader#slasher x y/n#slasher headcanons
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Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter Three
Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️🌈
Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event - (Yes this was written for the 2023 pride event and I'm trying to finish it before pride 2024 I'M SORRY).
Summary (Entire Fic Summary)
After replacing the loathsome former staff manager of the National Art Gallery in London, you find yourself all too interested in one of your employees in particular. Manager and employee relationships aren't allowed, and even if they were, you aren't sure if the nervous gift shoppist would be interested in you anyway. There's only one way to find out...
Reader Inclusivity
Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen
Tags/Warnings (for entire series)
NSFW, writer is NOT from the UK so please be gentle, I did my best with UK terms and such, smut, anal sex, oral sex, anal creampies, cum eating, cum swallowing, rough sex, Marc has DID, reader has mild PTSD, PTSD symptoms, trauma responses, semi-public sex, praise kink, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, love, forbidden relationship (boss and employee), minor physical violence.
Word Count: 3.1k
“Wait love wait!”
The entire demeanor of the man in front of you changed into the sweet, caring man that you were smitten with. You let go of him, stepping back and looking down at him with a furrowed brow. You felt your heart racing as your fight or flight kicked in. Steven looked nervous as he stepped forward, pressing his palm to your broad chest.
“D-darling I…well…we have something we want to share with you and I thought that if we’re getting more serious then…no time like the present yeah?”
“Steven…what’s going on?” You were trying not to express your irritation with him, but your balled fists gave you away.
“M’gonna let Marc tell you everything but you have to promise not to hurt him, yeah?” Steven looked up at you, brows turned up and knitted together as he awaited your answer.
He gulped, rubbing your clothed pecks with his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your button-down. He tried smiling at you, biting his bottom lip. You didn’t like making Steven so frightened so you let out a deep exhale. If he wasn’t scared or in danger, then you didn’t need to be so on edge. You nodded slowly.
Steven let out a deep breath, “right then, gonna let him out now.”
You watched in awe as Steven’s eyes rolled back in his head and then his body changed again. He stood a little taller, and his expression appeared a little darker. The man breathed deeply, looking up at you before pulling his hand off your body as though he’d been burned. He averted his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks get a little more rosy.
“What the fuck is happenin’?” You asked in a serious tone.
“Look, I told Steven you weren’t ready for this conversation but he insisted we have it so…here we are. He said it was gettin’ serious with you and he didn’t want any more secrets between you two,” he cleared his throat nervously, “my name is Marc Spector.” The man shrugged, “I guess the easiest way to tell you is to just get it out there so…I have an identity disorder as a result of my childhood trauma.”
You both stood silently for a moment while you absorbed the information. You recalled your time in the British Armed Forces, and some of the horrific things you’d seen. Trauma caused the brain to do amazing things; Things that were difficult to explain sometimes. You understood trauma well. You looked at Marc’s face, seeing the seriousness behind his eyes. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t some guy trying to mess with you, or pull a fast one on you. This was a man who had been through something horrible, or several horrible things, and it caused his mind to tear at the seams.
You nodded in understanding, “alright, yeah, I don’t know everything there is to know about identity disorders but, I’ve got some mental issues of my own mate, keep goin’.”
Marc nodded and exhaled in relief, “well, my…our mom…”
You put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, “s’fine, you don’t have to explain it t’me.”
“I…Steven, wants me to, he wants you to know, and he’s right…I need to be the one to tell you, because I’m the one who was there.” He looked away from you and at the floor, “our mom used to beat me, she hated me.”
You squeezed Marc’s shoulder gently. His head jolted up, glossed eyes meeting with yours. He shook his head, as though he were begging you not to make him continue.
“I meant what I said, and I’m talkin’ to Steven too…you don’t have to explain this t’me. I understand.”
“Fuck,” Marc said, turning away from you and covering his face in his hands.
I was awkward as hell to stand there while Marc cried, but you were glad he was getting it off his chest. You wondered if he’d ever shared this with anyone, or if it was only you. Either way, you knew he wasn’t sharing for his own sake, but instead for Steven’s, and you could respect that. When you look back now, you think that on the same day you met Marc, was the day you fell in love with him too, but you didn’t realize it yet.
“There’s another one too,” Marc looked at the water glass on the table.“Steven, I have to tell him.” You watched the - from your perspective - one sided conversation between Marc and Steven. “You didn’t want to keep this a secret but you want to keep him a secret? St–” Marc grumbled and then looked at you, “I’m telling you, even though Steven doesn’t want me to.”
“Tellin’ me what?”
“Jake is the third one of us. You may never meet him, but he’s here nonetheless,” Marc let out a sharp exhale, “We don’t really see him much either, but…the three of us get along…kinda.”
“Well, if he’s part of Steven’s life, then I look forward to meeting him,” you gave Marc a kind smirk.
You watched Marc’s entire body language change. It wasn’t like before when he switched from Steven to himself, but instead, it looked like his entire body relaxed with your reassurance. Marc looked like he might collapse and start crying again right then and there. You wondered when the last time he’d talked to someone about this was…if he’d ever talked to someone about this.
“Damn. That was…easier than I thought. You took that surprisingly well,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smirk.
“Had a boatload of therapy,” you shrugged, “I learnt long ago that you can’t really tell how the mind is gonna deal with trauma.” You thought now was as good a time as any to change the subject, seeing that Marc was getting uncomfortable again. “So are you…do you like…” you pointed to yourself. Of course you would hop from one uncomfortable topic to another.
Marc’s eyes shot wide once he realized what you were suggesting, “no, no, I like women, one hundred percent.”
Marc crossed his arms and cleared his throat nervously.
“But this, Steven and me, that doesn’t bother you?” You asked.
“Oh, oh, no. Steven’s happy, and the way I see it, that’s the only thing that matters,” Marc’s lips managed to curl into a smirk.
You could tell he cared about Steven, and so the two of you had that much in common, but that wasn’t the last time you saw Marc. You saw him again when you and Steven got into your first argument. It wasn’t anything serious, but it seemed to upset Steven enough to force him into the headspace.
The argument was stupid, and if you were being honest, it was a little funny. Steven walked into your office one afternoon, closing the door behind himself. He was stammering, as he often did when he was thinking about what he wanted to say faster than the words could come out. You chuckled, standing up and walking over to him, cupping his face.
“S’alright love, just tell me what’s wrong,” you brushed your thumb over his stubbled cheek.
“Gettin’ fed up with Linda not pickin’ up her mess in the break room,” Steven groaned, “I know s’not a big deal, not really, but I told her three times to pick up after herself and she still acts like a right slob.”
“Steven, that’s not really somethin’ I deal with,” you said as he huffed out a frustrated breath.
“I know, sometimes I just want to complain a bit, yeah?”
“C’mere,” you said, motioning with your finger.
He walked back over to you and pressed his face into your chest, “I’m irritated.”
You wrapped your arms around him, “I know darling,” you pushed him back at arm’s length, but I know something that might help.”
Steven had joked about wanting to blow you under your desk, but he’d never actually done it yet. In fact, he hadn’t blown you before at all. He acted like you were doing him a favor when you sat down in your big office chair with your legs spread out and his face between them. The way his eyes went wide with excitement and he started drooling you would’ve thought he was the one getting a blowjob.
He looked hungry, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of your pants as he released your cock from its confines. He always - always - made a comment about how big you were. His eyes crossed as your dick lined up between them, and he seemed breathless despite not yet having done anything at all.
“Steven, darling, might be too big f’you to fit in your mouth, it’s alright if you don’t want to.”
He looked up at you, putting a hand on either of your thighs.
“I want to,” he said softly.
Steven licked a stripe up your length, forcing your cock to twitch in response. You grabbed the arms of your chair as he repeated the gesture. You bucked your hips upward involuntarily. Steven giggled and looked up at you.
“Ooh, needy…” He wrapped his fingers around your girth, pumping up and down slowly, “you’re a bit leaky too love.”
“Are you gonna keep teasin’ me, or are you gonna be a good boy and take this thing like you were made to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Steven nodded with a shaky breath, smile fading at your words. You felt bad being so verbally rough with him sometimes, but you knew he enjoyed it. Whenever the two of you were in bed together it was like flipping a switch, making him hard in an instant. You slid down further in your chair, moving one of your hands to the back of his curly head.
He licked up your length again before taking the head in his mouth. You shuddered seeing Steven’s lips stretched around your fat dick. It seemed like he really was made to take it, sliding over the length as though his gag reflex was nonexistent. You exhaled sharply, feeling the way his tongue rolled over the underside of your shaft.
“Oh god Steven, takin’ me so well love, that’s it, just like t-that,” you pushed him down over you even more, “you tap my knee if it’s too much darling, don’t wanna hurt you.”
You felt his throat contract around you. There was still more to go, and you wanted nothing more than to see your entire dick disappear inside his precious mouth. You brushed a thumb over his cheek.
“Relax your throat, Steven, open up f’me,” you felt his muscles relax and you were able to push in further. “That’s it, that’s my good boy.”
Steven moaned over your length as he started bobbing his head in a delicious rhythm. He took one hand off your thighs and you heard the clank of his belt while he started freeing his own cock. The sound of him jerking himself could just barely be heard over the sound of him choking on your dick.
He looked up at you with affectionate and tear glossed eyes when you carded your hand through his hair. You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips slowly forward into his mouth, brushing your pubes against his nose as he took every single inch you had to offer.
“Steven, you sure you’ve never done this before?” Your entire body trembled, “s-so good…”
You heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. You both froze.
“Steven, you locked the door, yeah?”
Steven, in fact, hadn’t locked the door.
Steven made himself as hidden as he could in the space under your desk, where the intruder wouldn’t be able to see him. You rolled up as close as you could get without crushing him in there. John, your boss, walked in, smiling big. He stepped over, putting a hand on the varnished surface of the desk, leaning in to talk to you.
“Hey! Just stoppin’ in to tell you I think you’re doin’ great, and those reports you sent me yesterday…perfect.” He patted your shoulder and you jumped in response.
You felt Steven between your legs trying to put your cock back in your pants, but struggling given its current…state. You were close before while he had it buried in his throat, and that hadn’t changed in the seconds that had gone by. You were still close, and him moving it around wasn’t helping that issue. You kept your eyes on John, but tried like hell to push Steven’s hands and face away from you, but to no avail.
“Well I’m…oh…” you cleared your throat, “I’m glad you l-liked them.”
Steven didn’t get the hint, he was still sliding his hand over your length, trying to get it back inside your boxers. You couldn’t try very hard to stop him, or it would be obvious you were trying to do something under your desk, so you stopped trying, and just hoped that John would leave before…oh god.
You slammed your hand on the desk, “f-fuck!”
To John, you must’ve looked insane, like you were staring at him wide-eyed and shouting for no apparent reason. To you and Steven, you were coming, hot ropes of your spend hitting your boyfriend in the face under the desk. You managed to keep yourself from saying anything too telling, and you kept your breathing level…as level as you could.
“Fuck I forgot to sign the agreement for the…the uhhh–”
“Oh! For the new display going into the Ancient Egypt section of course! I’ll go get that right now!” John chuckled, “glad you remembered that, I’ll be right back.”
As he walked out, you rolled back in your chair to see Steven’s pretty face covered in globs of your spend. He looked pissed off, crawling out from under the desk and grabbing a few tissues from your desk to clean himself off.
“Darling, what’s wrong? You’re the one who–”
“You…did this…all over my face!”
“Love, I couldn’t help it, you kept touchin’ me and–”
“And,” he held a finger up, “and you could’ve locked the door before havin’ me do that in the first place!”
“Steven, you could’ve locked the door yourself when you walked–”
“I wasn’t plannin’ to come in here and do somethin’ like that now was I?”
You could see the embarrassment in his flush cheeks. He seemed exasperated, chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. He wasn’t really mad at you, but you doubted you’d be getting another ‘under the desk’ blow job any time soon.
“Now your boss knows what we were doin’ and he’s gonna make you fire me and maybe he’ll even fire you and–”
“Stop…” you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.
“No!” he pushed you off of him, “no, m’not gonna let you just kiss this one away. We could’ve been caught, you’re reckless and this isn’t like me at all! I don’t do things like this!” Steven stormed out of your office, passing John on his way out.
That was it…that was the argument.
You supposed that with Steven never having really been in a relationship before, an argument with his first ever significant other could be upsetting, despite it being such a silly thing to argue over. Taking that into consideration, you decided to tread lightly when you got home, toeing off your shoes in the entryway of his flat when you arrived almost silently. That’s when you noticed that Marc was there, not Steven.
“Hey,” he said, tipping back the beer in his hand and then holding it up, “want one?”
You shook your head, “no thanks.”
It was like Steven had a roommate. At least…that’s how it felt. Marc was the more stern one, like he was the polar opposite of Steven, but you didn’t mind. You liked the company regardless. Marc was a good guy, you could just tell. After a couple of minutes talking about the weather, the two of you managed to get into something more serious.
“You said you’ve been to therapy? Mind if I ask what for?” Marc took another swig of his beer.
“Uh, PTSD, spent a few years in the British Armed Forces and then got myself honorably discharged after…” you sniffed out a laugh, “maybe I will take that drink after all.”
After a few drinks, you and Marc were trading war stories and with it, your tales of trauma. You wondered how long it was going to take him to open up to you about why and how Steven came to be, but there Marc was, letting down his always stoic demeanor in order to open himself up to you.
He cried, and you opened your arms to him.
“No, no I told you I’m not…that’s not my thing…”
You laughed, “s’not a ‘thing’ to hug someone when they’re sad, Marc. C’mere…”
You tugged his jacket and pulled his rigid frame into your arms, wrapping them around him tightly. At first he was stiff, still mumbling some protests, but then you felt him exhale, like his entire body were a balloon being emptied of the air inside of it. That’s when the heavier sobs came, tears spilling out of his eyes and onto your forearm.
“Steven is so good, and sometimes I think it would just be best if I don’t ever come out. Sometimes I think that the world would be a better place without me in it,” he said between heavy cries. He looked up at you, “Steven could be happy, and be with you all the time and–”
“Steven would miss you, Marc,” you looked into his eyes, seeing the pain he felt just made you want to hold him closer, but you knew that would only make it more awkward.
You didn’t have to worry about feeling awkward though, because he leaned up and slotted his lips over yours all on his own. You pulled back in surprise, wondering if he did that by mistake or not, or if Steven had decided to come back when you didn’ notice.
“S-Steven?” You asked, looking between his eyes rapidly.
He shook his head, “no, still me,” he said breathlessly, looking down at your mouth before pulling you in again.
You smiled against his lips, “how unexpected.”
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#moon knight#steven grant#jake lockley#marc spector#marc spector fiction#marc spector headcanon#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector smut#moon knight drabble#marc spector drabble#moon knight smut#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight fic#moon knight male reader#moon knight male reader fanfiction#marc spector male reader#marc spector male reader fanfiction#steven grant male reader#steven grant male reader fanfiction#steven grant x reader#steven grant x male reader#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x male reader#jake lockley male reader fanfiction#male reader insert#fawpride2023
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“Ain’t Shit.” - c.springer
(part six here.) (final part here.)
part 7
you and connie couldn’t care less about arguing anymore.
guns, language, angst(?), very short.
“shut the fuck up.” eren whispered at one of floch’s friends, and most importantly, floch himself.
they were currently in the back of an abandoned alleyway, being held at gunpoint. it might’ve been stupid, but eren wasn’t about to have nobody sent to jail because of some snitches.
“y’all gon’ shut the fuck up about what happened, because you shot my homeboy.” he pointed the gun at floch. “and ion like that shit.”
he then pointed the gun at floch’s friend. “i just don’t like yo ass at all.” he squinted before backing up and leaning against the brick wall. “now if you snitch ‘bout anything that happened, and i mean anything, i’m killing both of y’all asses. and i’m not scared of gettin’ locked up.” he muttered while staring at them both.
they didn’t say anything back.
“and you, you was fuckin’ wit my home girl. ion like that shit either, cus ion play bout her.” eren muttered at floch again.
“he shot me over a female.”
“he shot yo ass in the leg, because you was testing him on purpose, and making her uncomfortable as hell.” eren hummed, taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling. “shit sound like harassment to me. and the way you was touching on her? shit.” eren shook his head.
“i was defending floch, like you and ony was defending connie. so ain’t nothing wrong with what i did.” floch’s friend slowly tilted his head.
eren squinted again.
“okay.” he whispered before taking another puff of the cigarette in his hand. he didn’t even have the energy to roll a blunt anymore.
“listen, we ain’t gon snitch on nobody.” floch said with a slight frown. “if i snitch, ima snitch on my damn self and me and connie would go to jail.”
eren wasn’t in the mood for lies, so he shook his head. “ion believe that shit. now if he died because of a bullet you put in his body, yo ass’ll be dead right now.” he said while continuing to stare down at floch.
floch licked his lips, hands tied behind his back.
eren looked at the tied up wound on his leg that wasn’t even fully taken care of. he then leaned down at looked floch in the eye, losing his nonchalant face and putting on a serious face.
“if anybody ask you about that shit, tell them it was an accident. yo’ homeboy” he tilted his head over to floch’s friend “was showing you his gun while ony showed connie his gun, and he accidentally pulled the trigger after he heard ony accidentally pull it. if they ask you about anything that happened at the party, you don’t have beef wit’ connie. ight?”
floch nodded. “yeah. i gotchu.”
meanwhile, sasha and ony were getting questioned separately.
“what happened before Mr Springer got shot?
“i don’t know, i think it was an accident.”
“me, floch, the gang was flexing guns and shit.
“and where were you during the moment?”
“i was using the bathroom.”
“with connie and eren, floch and his friend.”
“what happened when the first shot was fired?”
“i went to go find mikasa, y/n, and the rest of the group but everybody was running, i couldn’t see nothing.”
“everybody started running, but we was outside and it got crowded, that’s when i saw floch get shot right after the first one i accidentally fired.”
and then floch and his friend were questioned the same night.
“so you got startled, and accidentally shot Floch?”
“yeah.”
“what was happening before Mr Springer, and you, got shot?”
“me and ony was showing our guns off. that’s when i heard ony accidentally pull the trigger on his, i jumped and did the same thing.”
“i was just watching before i heard connie get shot, thats when i got shot.”
“are you and connie springer on good terms?”
“yeah. we cool.”
~
“so everything good?” connie asked through the phone while sitting in the hospital bed. “yeah, the stories add up, i guess. i said we was showing our guns off, i accidentally shot you, dumbass move if i did, and floch’s friend got scared and accidentally shot him.” ony said on the other line.
“damn. eren smart as hell.” connie laughed a little before biting his lip. “but ight, ima see you when i get out this place. or whenever you come.” he muttered before the conversation ended.
“what happened?” you tilted your head. “it’s all good.” connie said, huffing and laying back.
you nodded with a soft smile before crossing your arms. the silence filled the room and the only thing that could be heard was the beeping of the heart monitor.
“so.” connie finally spoke. you looked at him. “so..” you trailed off.
“remember when you said we ain’t getting back together? like, ever.” he started. you slowly nodded.
“you still tryna keep that promise? you know, since i ain’t cheat for real.” he said kind of quietly. you slowly inhaled and exhaled. “yeah, uh. ion know.” you shook your head while looking across the room. “i mean, i appreciate that you didn’t cheat and all, but you already know we toxic as hell and ain’t gon’ make it through the relationship if we start over again.” you mumbled.
“but you forgive me, right?” connie frowned a little. you nodded. “yes i forgive you, i just don’t think we can start over no more.” you shrugged and looked at him while biting your lip a little.
“you don’t think? or you know we can’t.”
“… you really still want me that bad?” you squinted at him with a small chuckle. “i meannn.” he shrugged. “yeah.”
you slowly nodded before speaking again after a few seconds. “i want you too, con’, but you know we not good for each other.” you didn’t even wanna look at him as you spoke, but you could see him look away from the corner of your eye.
“i know. i just miss you a lil bit.” he forced a laugh. you inhaled deeply and exhaled. “i’m sorry.” you whispered while resting your head and arms on the side of the bed.
“you’n gotta apologize, ma. i see where you goin’ wit this.” connie said, reaching out to run his hands through your hair.
the silence, once again, filled the room. god, there was really nothing left to talk about, was there? everything was handled, you just had to find where you stood in each others lives again.
“i’ll think about it.” you suddenly said. “but it’s most likely not gonna be a good answer, you know that, right?” you said, grabbing his hand to stop him from playing with your hair. “yeah. i know.”
you smiled at him before standing up slowly, “well, i guess i’ll let everybody else see you. stay strong, mkay?” you plucked his forehead. connie laughed and nodded.
“anything for you.”
do y’all they should get back tg, lmk preferably in the requests or messages!
it’s also coming to an end soon :,)
#aot x reader#connie springer#connie x reader#aot connie#connie x black reader#connie springer x black reader#aot x y/n#poc reader#connie springer x reader#connie x y/n#connie x black y/n#connie aot
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Getaway Car
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/n 'Haze' Mitchell
Summary: He doesn't love you so you leave.
Based of the song: Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift
Warnings: cursing, mentions of abortion, break-ups, angst
Part 1 / Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7
The air is cold as it hits your face. The wind was violent, hard to get through as you walked in its direction. You keep walking but have no clue where you're even going. You have no proper destination in mind but you're not going back to that apartment.
You want the cold air to clean your mind, as a sort of refreshment. A shaky breath leaves your lips as you try and turn your mind to something different.
It's proved unsuccessful as your phone starts ringing frantically in your pocket. You never know why this happens, the anxiety that hits. It always stops you in your tracks, leaving you in a sort of paralyzation. It hits you like a wave that brings you under, there's no escape and no exit, just pausing.
You know that Jake is calling you, it could only be him, but you did not want to answer. You take out your phone to see a picture of a smiling Jake on the screen in his plane. You don't want to decline it, that's not your plan at all because he'd know you've seen it. You just let it ring off.
It sends him right to voice mail, where he leaves you a heart crushing message. All about how he's the problem and that he doesn't want you wondering so late asking where you were or at least if you're safe, proposing to pick you up. His voice started to break towards the end and even if you felt so much hatred towards him right now, he couldn't be alone, not in that state.
"Come on, Haze, answer me please!" Jake exclaims at this point, desperately. He didn't want it to end like this, he didn't want you to walk away again. He wanted you to be there with him and give him another chance; a chance where he could talk it out with you. He called nine more times, each lead to being unanswered.
Tears started to well up in his eyes, feelings that he could never be able to explain. Even though you did have an abortion of his child and not tell him, he had no right to act in such a way, not in a way that would scare you off to leave again. He couldn't do this alone, he needed to talk with someone and clearly it wouldn't be you. He had to call somebody else, somebody who would listen.
As Jake reached into his back pocket, his phone rang frantically and Jake hoped it was you, he dreamed of it at this point, but to his disappointment it wasn't. Javy. Perfect timing Man. Right as Jake was gonna call him.
Coyote: 'Hey Man, how ya hold-'
Jake simply cut him off, in milliseconds. He didn't want to interrupt him but he also didn't want to hear Coyote finish his sentence. He had to spit out the information on him.
Jake: 'She had an abortion. My child and she didn't tell me. That's why she left back then. For fucks sakes. I let her fucking go again.'
You see, Javy calling wasn't such a coincidence. Haze asked him to check up on Jake, simply mentioning that the two got into a small, heated argument but this was big time news and it hit Javy like a truck.
Coyote: 'Holy shit man, that's difficult shit, god I don't even know how to put this into words… I'm guessing you didn't take it well.'
Jake: 'I overreacted but she got scared. She was scared of me Javy.'
At that he broke. Shattered like a vase into millions of pieces. Each leaving their own, piercing, sound as it hits. The sons left his mouth as Javy was already in his car to go to him.
Jake cared that you had an abortion, he believed the two of you could work it out. It was possible that you two would manage but now what he cared more for is that you were out in the middle of the night, scared of him, scared of his reactions.
Coyote: 'Jake, I'm nearly there.'
Jake: 'Javy, she was fucking scared of me. She looked like she was in fear of me hurting her. She thought I would hurt her… I didn't want to scare her off.'
-------
The wind was getting more string, more violent with each blow. You wrapped your light jacket around your body tightly. Hugging it into your chest as you stepped on the familiar front porch.
You shook a tiny bit before looking at the light coming through the small window on the side of the door. One knock. You gave one knock agaytge wooden frame and you heard someone rush to the door and once it opened, the man seeing your state was ready to kill anyone who hurt you.
"Princess?" Maverick was confused to see his own daughter so late at his porch, especially with mascara stained cheeks from crying and puffy eyes.
With one word you break his heart. One word which leaves your lips in a shake that could destroy a whole city with it's innocence. Maverick didn't know why you were here, but when you said the word, he easily started adding up the facts.
"Daddy."
Once you say it his arms wrap around you and you start breaking into sobs, hit sticky tears stream from upon your eyes, explain their own stories against your father's chest as he knows somebody hurt you so he had to hurt someone.
------
It's been a week since everything happened and Javy and the rest knew that they had to get Jake up and out of the house. He was miserable, he had a right to be. You haven't answered any of his calls or texts and he even tried emails to get in contact with you.
And you weren't at work either. He looked for you in your office, plan and operations tower, yet you were nowhere to be found. He knew if you saw him you'd still be mad at him but for now your father showed that emotion. He put Jake through hell. Every little mistake Jake made had a big consequences upon him now. One wrong move and your father gave him hell on earth.
Every push-up he has done in the past few days represents how big off a jerk. And at this point even Cyclone and Warlock knew which didn't make life merrier for him.
"Jake, what the hell man, put your game together!" Fitz calls out after their group just lost due to Jake's inability to keep focus and wandered directly onto Mavericks radar.
The two of them walk back into the room with the rest of the daggers where he couldn't even look at them. Everyone knew what was going on and what happened between you and him and gave him those stupid sympathetic looks that he never wished for. He looked down on the floor until Fitz commented, "If this is about that chick of yours mate then deal with it. Her ass was too fine to stay with a guy like you. She'd much rather have some of thi-"
Fitz didn't get to finish that sentence as Jake aggressively lunged himself at him. Thank the lord he was quickly grabbed by Rooster and Coyote or this would really turn into a shit show. Though Jake didn't put this down easily, pulling against the hold of Bradley and Javy, grunting with each move until he calmed down and they let go of him.
"Speak of her like that ever fucking again and nobody will be quick enough to catch me from wiping that pathetic smile of your face."
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You've been staying with your dad for the last week, the room was yours since the start but none of your things were there. In your car you always had a spare flight suit which prevented the need of you having to go back to the apartment urgently. After all it has been a week and there are several other things you needed and from the work schedules you held you knew Jake wouldn't be there so perfect time to move back out.
You drive you car through the twisted estate as you turn left into a underground garage parking. The button on the left of the steering wheel is to open the mechanic doors for you to drive in and does so. You park in your usual spot and reach for the bin bags in the passenger seat. You weren't packing for a sort of vacation, you were packing essentials and getting out; the rest Bradley and Bob should bring you in around two weeks but you could wait it was no rush.
You sigh, hitting your head of the steering wheel. If you had just bloody told him it would have never lead to this. But now it's to late, most hope is gone and you just had to get in and out.
You step out the car and slam the white door shut. You run to the elevator, which thankfully opens immediately and you hit the button to the third floor.
You swiftly dug through the shared wardrobe, picking out the essentials and stuffing them into the bag.
When you enter the apartment it was a mess, clothes everywhere, blinds closed, groceries unpacked, laundry undone, wrappers all around the TV chair. It looked like a depressive hole. And it was all because of you.
You never wanted to abort it but it had to be done you were in fear of being left alone and now you could see the fear in your own eyes. You crushed the man, no other way of putting it. You hurt him so bad, the apartment looks like a caveman lived here.
You stopped stuffing the black bag and carried it up to the front door. You could've left at that, maybe even should've but you wanted to look around. You knew when Jake was in a bad mood, you'd find him in his TV chair. He always was the person to be found in the chair when things got hard or miserable. You walk into the room to see papers upon the chair, your abortion papers along with the only scan you had of the baby.
It looks as if Jake has read through the papers many times, back and front to somehow believe it was all just a dream, something to change faith in a way. On the other side was a pile of Polaroids of you and Jake together. Happy. Free. In love. It was just a week ago that one of them was taken. So close but yet so far of how it felt.
You didn't know when the tears started but now they slipped violently from your eyes. You hurt the only person you properly loved and left him without a word. You were a monster. You were the reason the man you love, suffers. You had to leave now, you couldn't contain it in you anymore, this was all too much.
"Haze." This couldn't be happening, not right now, you just wanted to leave and get here we go again, in the same position as seven years ago when you were leaving for proper. Javy. He had to always come at the worst times, his way of perfect timing in a way. "Coyote, I hav-"
"Oh shut it Haze, you don't have to do shit, you just fucking leave and now here you are about to leave again, again after breaking his heart."
Strong, hit you right to the core. You were already crying but this was someone finally being realistic with you. Every time something bad happened, you cave and ran. Something your mother passed onto you. She never wanted you, after your birth she just simply left and that's a habit you've only managed to pick up from her. Leaving.
"Y/N, I shouldn't have said that… Please don't leave him again." The desperation in Javy's voice was iconic. It wasn't him we were talking about anymore, yet here we are him trying to get you to stay for a friend. "Haze, don't leave again, please. He lov-"
"No Javy, not anymore. He doesn't love me anymore, not now. He doesn't want me anymore. And it's for the best this time. He just doesn't want me anymore and I don't want to cause more pain."
"He still cares Y/N."
"No Javy, just no.."
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Welcome Home
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The Commonwealth ain’t so bad right…? Maybe if he does what he’s told, his family will be safe. That’s what matters… • SFW/NSFW/ANGST • TW: Injuries / Pregnancy & Birth / Separation Anxiety / Scars • Ignoring S11’s canon
“You really think this’ll help us…going to the Commonwealth?” Y/N frowns leaning against Daryl as the two were sat on the couch in his basement room. He gently takes her hand into his squeezing it. “For us…it…Judith and RJ…Dog? What about Maggie? She’s not going…”
“We’ll give it a test run…see what happens and Maggie she’ll be safe. She wants to stay to help rebuild”
“We could—-“
“Need to think about the kids…what’s best for them, so it’s really if they’ll like it” Daryl squeezes her hand again then letting go and resting it on her belly. “Even if we did stay, I wouldn’t let yea do the crazy workaholic shit you’d do. Just know I won’t let anything happen to yea or them…yer always my top priority”
Y/N rests her hand over his for just a moment before shifting to face him. Gently brushing the hair out of the way of his face.
“Daryl…”
“Hm?”
“Don’t let them break you…”
•
Being processed was a lengthy and annoying process to deal with. Makes one miss Rick’s three questions. Now it’s like a game of 20 questions and a job placement. Daryl obviously being put into training for security and Y/N got lucky being placed in the farming district where she got to work with somebody she knows, Ezekiel. Which also meant Daryl telling him the news and to keep an eye on her when he can’t.
“This reminds me of my apartment from the before…just. A little nicer”
“A little nicer? I’m afraid to even ask” Daryl laughs a bit setting his pack down as Dog instantly went to sniff around the entire place. “Uhm. We’ll take the only bedroom”
“Unless you want the kids to have it and we’ll sleep out here” Y/N states sitting down on one of the mattresses in the main room letting Dog jump to her laying in her lap.
Daryl instantly scoffs to such as he moves to sit beside her. “Nah. You’re pregnant. And I ain’t letting Dog jump on yea in the middle of the night”
“He’ll scratch the door if you keep it closed”
“Better than stomping on’em” He states grazing his fingers on her belly as Dog nips at him. “I swear! You can’t do that”
“Guess he’s going to be over-protective over this one too” She laughs petting Dog behind the ears as Daryl pulls her into his side kissing her temple.
“Don’t mean he can nip at me” He mumbles giving Y/N another kiss to the temple before shooing Dog off. “Gonna check the rest of the place before gettin’ the kids”
“Be careful, D”
“Nothin’ gonna scare me in this small ass apartment” Daryl rolls his eyes opening the closet for a broom to fall out and spook him. He sighs annoyed especially when his girl started to laugh because of that. “You saw nothing”
“Okay okay…sure” Y/N smiles leaning against the wall still seated on the unmade mattress resting her hands on her barely showing belly. “I hope we’re safe here…” she whispers to herself.
•
“Y/N!!!” Ezekiel cheers happily approaching his friend that he’s missed and couldn’t help but hug her. “I won’t be too tight! I heard the good news, how far along??”
“Uhm. I think I’m reaching 4 months? I just got an appointment here…” Y/N laughs nervously as the words that escaped her made her anxious. This Commonwealth had a lot. A hospital for Christ’s sake! She couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of something being wrong or the doctors being monsters. Or both.
“You sound unsure…is Daryl coming with you to your appointment?”
“He’s in the training camp with Rosita to see who works well with who. Mercer told him he couldn’t go…”
“Then that’s settled! I’ll go with you!” Ezekiel smiles warmly. “I understand how strange this place is and I’ve been to their hospital a few times for my own thing, so I know the lay out and a few of the doctors. I’ll protect you for Daryl”
Y/N couldn’t help the hormones making her emotional enough to start sobbing. Ezekiel didn’t even react negatively to such, all he did was smile and bring her into his embrace.
This was weird. Really. Weird. Y/N hasn’t sat in a hospital waiting room since well. Y/N was in a hospital when the world ended, in a similar sense like Rick but not entirely. She kept her hands protectively on her belly watching everyone walk by. Security. Hospital personnel. Happy people. God…is it bad to have all this fear coursing through you when everyone around you is in good spirits?
“Ms. Dixon?”
Ezekiel was first to stand as Y/N stayed in her seat for a second longer before following his action by standing and soon following the nurse.
“Is this the father?” The OB smiles closing the door once Ezekiel had entered.
“No he’s uhm in security so he couldn’t get time off…” This talk felt strange…very old world.
“Well, I can always put in the good word for future appointments.” She smiles jotting that information down on Y/N’s chart. “But it’s also always nice to have close friends with you as well”
“I 100% agree” Ezekiel smiles letting Y/N get situated on the exam table and keeping an eye on her body language in case he needed to stop everything.
But before the OB could even get the gel on, Y/N took a hold of her wrist out instinct. Realizing what she did and let go immediately. The OB stopped what she was doing and carefully took Y/N’s hand into both of hers.
“My name is Erin Mathews, I was an OB resident in the old world and I’ve done my fair share of surviving before the Commonwealth found me.” Erin reassures Y/N’s anxieties slightly with the softness she radiated. “I’m not like the others in this community. Whatever you want, I’ll do. You’ll receive all the care needed, with the privacy you want. I won’t let anything happen to you or your baby. You’re safe”
Ezekiel was sold, he really liked this girl and Y/N relaxed just enough for Erin to finally get started. Erin not only made a note to get her husband to have the time off for these future appointments but also in case of emergency to have Ezekiel’s name jotted down.
The sound of the baby’s heartbeat pulled Y/N out of every negative thought she stirred up when Erin first put the ultrasound wand on. Her attention hasn’t left the screen once Erin pushed it over for them to see.
“Daryl is going to lose it when he sees this for himself” Ezekiel smiles holding the picture of the ultrasound as the two walk back to the living quarters. “Hell! Another piece to the future coming in five months!” He happily handed the picture back seeing his friend start to tear up again. “Oh Y/N…”
“It’s just…u-unbelievable. I-I can safely have this baby.” She continued to sob happily bringing herself into Ezekiel’s embrace. “Daryl doesn’t have to worry about anything going w-wrong and having n-n-nothing to do about it”
“You’re safe here, Y/N. And we all know Daryl Dixon will make sure of it”
And boy does he.
Daryl came back after a long and rather annoying day to hearing humming from the other part of the apartment. He quietly approaches the small kitchenette watching his partner work away at making dinner with what she could get. Mainly groceries Ezekiel gave her given their small family just arrive and haven’t had money come in yet.
“You seem happy”
Y/N flinches slightly causing Dog who was trailing her to start sniffing her in case of anything. Once she relaxed, she gave Daryl a small smile before continuing to cook.
“I am”
“Uh. How was the…doctor’s appointment?” Daryl asks on his way over to Y/N’s side bringing his arm around her as she went into her back pocket to take out the small pictures.
It didn’t take long for Daryl to get a hold of the picture himself as Y/N noticed the man started to stare at it. He wouldn’t move or look away.
“They’re healthy. The doctor was really nice too…she said she might be able to get you—-“ Y/N was cut off by Daryl suddenly hugging her, tightly but of course not too tight. She brought her arms around him hearing the soft sniffles that escaped him. “Oh Daryl…”
“Baby’s healthy, you’re healthy…y’all are gonna be okay” Daryl sobs holding onto his woman as his anxiety was toward what happened years back. A part of him will always be haunted by what happened to Lori, especially when his partner is pregnant. But now he doesn’t have to fear in its entirety of what could happen.
He can relax a little…
•
“I have arrived, and with good company” Carol smiles letting herself in with Rosita following shortly behind as Coco was with Eugene for the evening.
“It’s been a minute since it was just us. Have you heard anything from Maggie about Alexandria?”
“They are doing good with rebuilding. The commonwealth is actually helping instead of what we feared when we first arrived here” Rosita sets down dinner she had picked up from one of the services for free prepared meals as she made sure to grab something Y/N will enjoy. “Soooo…do you guys know what you’re having?”
“Oh please tell me you’re not keeping it a secret! I keep trying to ask Daryl when I see him but the man keeps brushing me off” Carol scoffs slightly as she watches Y/N slowly take a seat on the couch.
“Daryl doesn’t know”
The two quickly share a glance before bringing themselves closer hoping Y/N would budge but she looked as if she wanted Daryl to know first. But fucking hell she can’t keep it to herself for long.
“It’s a girl but you can’t tell D until I do!” She almost shouts out as Carol immediately hugs her friend while Rosita screams from excitement herself.
“Oh you better tell Daryl soon! We have a bet going on!”
“Rosita!”
“They ain’t the only better floating. But wait before you tell Ezekiel. He won and I have to make a dozen cookies for pay up” Carol laughs with the two.
As girls night comes to a close and Y/N found herself laying in bed staring up at the ceiling. She was both missing Daryl and the kids, but also missing those from the past. Most nights since being in the Commonwealth lead her to reminisce and feel slightly bad because those she lost deserved the luxury of this place…it was a lot to think about all in one night.
Lost in her own thoughts she didn’t hear the door open which meant Daryl’s return. The kids were with Ezekiel for the evening because of girls night and he’d bring them back after school the next day. A whole other phenomenon to think about.
Daryl came into the bedroom about to rip off his armor but couldn’t help himself when spotting Y/N and bringing himself over to her. Kissing her belly gently, drawing her from her thoughts as she smiles warmly toward him.
“Is it already that late?”
“That I’m home? Mhm” Daryl sat on the edge of the bed watching Y/N slowly bring herself to sit up as her center made it difficult to do so. “How was…girls night?”
“Good. There’s leftovers if you’re hungry.” Y/N smiles watching Daryl rest his hand on her belly gently, he started to do this more in hopes he’d feel the little one given he missed all the other times she had called him to feel. “You know…I know what we’re having” and that instantly made the archer lock eyes with her in a bit of excitement.
“Yea gonna make me guess or gonna tell me?”
“Hm. I kinda wanna make you guess. But I’m also an impatient person”
“Ain’t that the truth” Daryl laughs slightly as he suddenly felt it. The smallest kick against his hand as he was now fixated on the small movement. He brought himself to completely turn toward his partner bringing both hands onto her belly. “It’s always these moments that I finally get to experience these great things”
“Mm. You’ll be around more when she arrives, you’ll make sure of it”
“Fuck yeah I will—-HEY!” Daryl exclaims looking up at Y/N seeing her smile even wider. “A girl?! Ha! I lost a bet and won one”
“Why are you betting on the gender of our baby?”
“Cuz…it’s a 50/50 chance” Daryl brought himself low enough to kiss her belly once more before finally getting up and getting out of his armor. “Better get comfy, I ain’t letting yea go tonight”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way”
•
The closer she got to a presumed due date the more anxious and nesty she became. But the other thought on her mind was what home was. Y/N wasn’t working once she got to eight months, because she was given leave and Ezekiel would force her out of the farming area every chance she wanted to get away from being confined to the apartment.
“Yknow how you started to nest when you were carrying Coco?”
“Why are we talking about this when I’ve talked about it with Y/N?” Rosita smiles followed with a short lived laugh as the two were at their stations for that shift. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t entirely know. The scary ass books Carol made me read are like. They start getting the home ready for a baby and start to nest. But Y/N has everything in a closet. Hasn’t really arranged anything or asked me to do anythin’”
“You think she wants to stay here?”
“What do yea mean?”
“Alexandria is back on its feet and from the reports done by Maggie? Commonwealth is starting to remove themselves from the place since they can hold their own again. You think Y/N would…want to go home?”
Returning back to the apartment Daryl hasn’t stopped thinking about such. This place was perfect, but he doesn’t want to force his partner to stay here and granted he’s always had mixed feelings about his job. The old world within this new one always felt weird and they were allowed to leave whenever as long as someone was notified. The one thing he really wants though is the hospital…in case anything happened. He couldn’t lose any of them.
He was greeted by Dog when he first opened the door before being hugged by Judith immediately. That was another thing, this place is confirmed safe. Safe for them.
But he didn’t want to force anything…
“You’ve seen—-“
“She’s laying down. Told me to tell you when you got back”
“Where’s RJ?”
“In our room. Is Aunt Carol coming over for dinner again?”
“Yeah, she’ll be here in a bit. How about you and your brother get ready while I check on Y/N?”
“Okie dokie” Judith smiles up at her uncle before pulling away to go do such as Daryl makes his way to their bedroom.
Daryl quietly opens the door finding Y/N fast asleep holding her belly protectively as he enters the room trying his best to remain quiet. He gently shuts the door behind him and went ahead with removing his boots before climbing into the bed with her. The smallest movement stirring her slightly as she tiredly looks at Daryl.
“Hey…”
“Hey yourself” He whispers laying beside her facing toward her. “You feelin’ alright?”
“Mhm. Back hurts” Y/N rubs a bit of the sleep from her eyes but she wasn’t in any mood to get up. “When’s Carol coming…?”
“Soon. She’s bringing dinner. I don’t gotta burn shit again” He laughs quietly watching her tiredly smile in response. “Y/N?”
“Mm?”
“Do you wanna go back to Alexandria?”
That’s when she fully opened her eyes looking at Daryl with a bit of a confused look on why he’d ask such.
“I…I’m not sure”
“We can. If you don’t like it here, we can always go back”
“But…Uh.” Y/N couldn’t find the words, she wanted to blame pregnancy brain but it was more so…if he likes it here, thinks we’ll be safe here…she doesn’t want to ruin it for him.
“Y/N. You know all I want from yea is to be safe right? Wherever we are. I need yea, the peanut, the kids…just safe.”
“D…I want the baby here, because they can…handle whatever may happen” okay… “But I don’t feel at home here”
“I get that. I get that entirely”
“You’re…not mad?”
“Why would I be? This was a fresh start, yeah. But it felt weird…not being in a place we built and protected together. Yeah we needed the commonwealth to help us back on our feet. But I was never gonna force you to stay here if you aren’t happy”
“I just…I miss our home. The one we built back up after the Saviors War. The one we let so many people stay in when they needed a place to stay. I want to raise our little girl there”
Daryl couldn’t help his small smile when hearing her say such. He brought himself closer to her wrapping his arm around her as she tried to get as close as humanely possible even with the bump in the way. He presses his lips against her forehead hearing her hum happily.
“Once you and the peanut are well enough…We’ll go home” He smiles as he whispers to her knowing very well she was becoming less anxious when he spoke. “You, me, Jude, RJ, Dog and the peanut. Will be home soon before you know it”
•
The gates to Alexandria quietly opened as Judith and RJ instantly ran through, immediately being engulfed in Maggie’s embrace and then her son Hershel’s. Aaron even brought himself and Gracie over to reunite with the few. Dog instantly followed after the kids keeping up with them and making sure they were safe like always.
Then Daryl came next, with Carol who wanted to be with her family always. She took care of bringing their stuff back within the familiar walls of their home. He waited patiently for Y/N to join him at his side feeling his arm find purchase around her waist as she carefully moves the blanket out of the way of their little girl that was fast asleep in her mother’s embrace.
“Welcome home, Robin”
#cultofdixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#ok I wrote this before that Judith request came and imma still post this even if some bits sound the same#it prob won’t do well but I spent a lot of time on this so imma just post it
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ATSV Bully!Hobie Brown x Reader - I Hate You
Summary: Ever since you joined the team a few months back, you've had an indescribable distain for Hobie, and the feeling seems mutal, if all his bullying is anything to go by- or so you thought.
Warnings: spider!reader, dangerous situations, angst, fluff, romantic tension, inspired by 'I HATE YOU' by 2NE1
You couldn't stand him, the way he lounged about, aloof and uncaring about the goings on around him. Currently, he layed on a lobby couch, Mayday in his lap with her tiny hands in his, baby talking one another. The sight mad you gag. How could a guy like Hobie possibly be good with kids? Same level of maturity, you guessed.
"(Y/N), are you even listening to me? Do you think this is a joke?" Your boss's harsh tone snapped your attention back to what it ought to be on. Your cheeks burned as Miguel's starer bored into you, waiting for a response, which he'd undeniably cut short just to assert dominance over you. To add insult to injury, you could make out a fit of childish giggling that could only belong to a small red headed girl, fueled by snarky comments from her seemingly adopted older brother.
"I-I'm sorry, I-" you sputtered, feeling frustrated tears prick your eyes. "I just got-"
"Distracted, I'm aware." There it was. And just like that, he was laying into you again, with belittlements so hurtful you had no choice but to tune him out for your own mental health. Finally, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, letting you know he was done yelling, which was never a good sign. Everyone knows Miguel's quiet anger is so much worse than his loud anger. "Look, you can't keep making these mistakes, they're costing us more and more." he admitted. "I need to know that I can trust you to fix this or..." he trailed, swiping his hair back, not wanting to finish a difficult sentence. "Or I'm gonna have to send you home, perminately."
"Miguel," you instantly protested, swallowing hard to fight back tears. "No please, you know I have nobody to go back to!"
"Then prove to me you can be useful." he replied sternly. "Because right now you're not and you knwo I can't keep anyone around that I can't use. Am I understood?"
You hung your head, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, though you refused to give him a good look at your wet cheeks. "Yes sir, I'll clean it up."
"Good," he nodded, releived to be done with the conversation. "But just in case something goes wrong, take Hobie with you."
-----
Hobie trailed through the headquarters behind you, glancing around awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets. This was his fault, really, and he knew it. You knew it, and he knew that you knew, but 'sorry' never had been in his vocabulary. "Look bird-"
"Shut it, you sleezy, incompetent, diabolical little shitstain!" You shoted right there in the hallway, not caring who saw or heard. Hobie threw out his palms in defense with an embarrassed grin.
"Diabolical? I don't think I'm exactly diabolical." he chuckled nervously, only to be silenced once again by your accusing finger.
"You are! You sabbotaged me!" you insisted, seething.
Irritation for your attitude wore down his guilt as he dropped one hand and brought the other to rest on his hip, sassily popping it out. "I did no such thing," he lied. "Not my fault you can't take a joke."
"A joke?!" you shrieked, balling your fists to restrain yourself. "You picked on me before I went on that mission purposefully, just to make sure I screwed up!"
"Oh whatever," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just like gettin' ya all riled up, you're cute when your mad, luv." he cooed sinisterly, leaning his lanky form closer to yours. Color rushed to your face as you began to shake.
"Why can't you just take anything seriously?!"
"Why do you have to treat everything so serious? Not everything is liife or death, (Y/N)." he dismissed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up at you.
"Because this is!"you cried, tears once again begining to fall down your cheeks. Damnit, he never was able to watch you cry. "I have nothing left in my demention ahnd you know it. If I get sent home I-!" you haulted, not knowing what to say, genuinely at a loss. "I-I don't know what I'd do..."
"Bird," he called, sympathy softening him exponetially. "I-"
"Please just save it, Hobie." you finally spat, fidgeting with your watch. "You've said enough."
-----
Standing on a rooftop, you surveiled the area the device had brought you to, scanning for any sign of the anomaly you'd accidnetally released into this univense against the dreary drizzing sky. Looking around and finding yourself alone, you'd asumed Hobie hadn't followed you in, not unlike him to dodge jobs he wasn't in the mood for, and even better for you. If you took care of this on your own, you'd be back in Miguel's good graces for sure.
Before you had any time to begin your search, however, you found yourself knocked off your feet, breathless and went sailing into the nearest horrizontal surface: one of the many windows of a towering office building. Eyes blown in panic and shock, you heave against the scratchy carpet floor, not littlered with broken glass as chaos arose around you. The employees of the office began to jump just from their seats, a few running to your aid or suspciously interogating you, though most chose to flea. Screams, shattering glass, and stomping overwelmed youas you began to become overstimulated, only interupted by dark c huckling uttered in a thick Russian accent.
"Is nice to see you again," the deformed figure before you said, sstepping towards you. "Will be last time, I pomise." With that, the man charged at you headfirst, an offense you narrowly avoided.
"Listen to me, Rhino!" you tried, crawling up to the ceiling and hanging there as you spoke. "I know you've endured pain in your life, every instance of you has, but you don't belong here!"
The behemoth seemed to only take your words as fueled, growling in responce. "You do not know me, spider." he snarled. "Youi know nothing of me!" Raging, he thrashed, thorwing a termper tantrum and hurling an office desk towards you, which thankfully missed you thanks to your vantage point.
"I know a lot more than youy might think!" you plead, begging to chip away down to what little humanity remained of him. "I know your name is Aleksi, and I know you'd had a rough life," you explained cautously, lowering yourself via a strand of silk once you felt he was calming down. Holding your hands out defensively, you continued. "You're a criminal- a theif, but you didn't have a choice, did you, Aleksi?"
"Niet." he answered abashedly, eyes furrowing at you suspiciously.
"I also know that you've been hurt by people you trusted. Doctors and scientists who had other plans for you than what they told you, right?"
"Da."
You sighed, stepping a bit closer, relaxing slightly. "But they people who did that to you aren't here. They're not even in this dimention and you can't go around hruting innocent people looking or them." For a moment, it seemed what you'd said had really gotten to him as he stepped back, staring down at his hands symbollically. "You can't stay here, Aleksi, you have to go home."
Sudddenly his eyes flickered back up to you, filled with rage as he breathing became labored. "Neit!" he hollered, hands curling into clenched fists as he let out a betrayed roar. "I have nothing to go back to! Not going back to prison, I will not be captive!"
Before you knew it, you were falling. Air filled your ears as it rushed by you and your surroundings had long since faded to a watercolor blur. Straight ahead, you could see Rhino standing in the gape of the shattered window of the office building, huffing as he watched you desend. Had he not thrown you off the ledge so quickly, you might have thought to sling a web to break your fall, but you couldn't find it within yourself as you watch his form disappear. This was it, you'd failed thr mission and now you were going home. Sudenly, it dawned on you.
You weren't going to be sent home. You were going to die.
Deadweighted, you closed your eyes, anticipating the crippling hit to the concrete, not that you'd feel it anyways. Suddenly, your decent ended as you fell heavy into a sturdy pair of arms, terribly tired from the race your mind had ran, and talking solice in the warm heartbeat of this angel whoi would carry you on.
The smell of leather and rust hit your nose as you began to come to your senses. "C'mon, luv, gotta wake up." a concerned voice urged as paitently as possibly. Eyes fluttering open, you saw him. Hobie was bathed in daylight, masked face turned from you in effort to give attention to his surroundings as he carried you. Then he skiddfed to a haulted, cursing under his breath has he'd sudddenly stopped giving chase to the interloper. He peer down at you, pulling off his hood with a barely free hand. "Ya still with us?" he asked, nervousness pooling out from under a wall of coolness. You nodded hesitently as he gently set you down.
"Hobie..." you wondered allowed, a bit awestuck from the emotional turmoiled you'd gone through. "You came..."
He cocked a brow, wicks falling to the side with his head. "'Course I didn, what'd you expect of me?"
You couldn't help but feel ashamed, not only of the things you'd said to him earlier in the day, but of your low expectations of him. You'd always known Hobie to have his own agenda, but he was loyal to a fault at the end of the day.
"I thought you'd leave me to clean up my own mess...I'm sorry." you admitted, hanging your head low. Your ears became hot at the sound of his hearty laughter befor his gloved hand slapped down onto your shoulder, probably a bit harded that you would've liked. "W-What's so funny?"
"Nothing, bird," he chuckled, dramatically hunched and wiping an imaginary tear form his eye. "Just that, if you're the one that made the mess, how are you meant to clean it up on your own?"
I hope this lived up to the hype of the snippet. 😖Also, not proffread, mb!
#hobie brown x reader#atsv#spider punk#spiderpunk x reader#spider!reader#hobie x you#hobie x reader#hobie brown#hobie spiderverse#across the spider verse spoilers#hobie brown x y/n
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My haven could be you - Part 3
Joel Miller x f!reader (18+) - Part 1 Part 2
Summary: Joel fights some inner demons about your relationship until you make him see that he is more to you than just a warm body in your bed
Word count: 5.072
Warnings: angst, flirting, pining, feelings, smut, dirty talk, PinV intercourse, rough, desperate, cursing, phisical fight, inapropriate behaviour towards a woman, injury
MINORS DNI!!!
Authors note: Here it is :) The highly requested Part 3. It´s gettin´ steamy again my loves. Hold onto your panties! Not proveread yet
The days trickled by like summer rain and Joel seemed to be more infatuated with you day by day. He´d cook for you, you´d provide the veggies and meats. He´d make sure you got home safe each night before kissing you goodbye passionately in front of your door. On more occasion than one you´d just walk backwards into your apartment and pull him with you. And although he tried to be a gentleman, sometimes your eyes, crooked grin and hands all over his chest made it impossible to resist another night with you.
Something was nagging in the back of his head though. Was he really holding back because he wanted to be a gentleman and take is slow or did he just not want people to see him emerge from your apartment in the morning? The both of you had been out in public together, sure. But you never held hands, kissed or acted couple-y at all. You hadn´t even talked about the status of your relationship. Yes, the sex was fantastic and the attraction was magnetic, earthshattering and simply an addicting feeling.
Still, you were quite a bit younger than him and sometimes when he looked onto your sleeping face in the crook of his arm he was painfully reminded of your youth. No lines or bags around your eyes, smooth skin, vibrant hair. Some scars here and there of course but they never distracted from your beauty in his eyes.
One particular night, he again was unable to resist your touch and little kisses and by the time you fell onto his sweaty chest panting, he once again wondered how in all the stars you were attracted to him. Your sweet little breaths still tickled his chest hair as you lightly chuckled. His broad hands moved soothingly over your back when he heard it.
“Oh, come on. I wasn´t that bad” he said with a smirk. Pinching his side and grinning wildly you lifted your head and looked at him. Rolling your eyes at his smirk you leaned up and kissed him thoroughly again. Your tongue was just as addicting as basically everything else. He groaned deep in his throat and enjoyed the post orgasmic laziness with you. When you broke the kiss you opened your eyes and smiled down at him. Your knuckles gently stroked his cheekbones.
“Would you stop making fun of yourself already? I can´t tell yet whether you´re serious or not.” Joel raised an eyebrow. “I´m making fun of myself?” he asked quietly. “Yes,” you said with a nod and lowered your voice comically. “…let this old man take you to bed. You´re only riding me because you want to spare my back. Old and fragile men need to be in bed early-“ Joel pinched your side with a chuckle before you could continue. “I guess I do make a lot of these comments, don´t I?” he said in a much more pensive tone. You hummed and looked at him curiously. “You…you know I don´t mind the age gap…right?” you asked carefully. Joel took a deep breath. So…it was today, huh? The talk.
“Why?” he asked with a sigh. If he wanted to feel more confident with you he´d had to ask. “Why don’t you mind? It´s not small.” You nodded. “True. It´s not what´s considered normal I guess but seriously…what has been in the last 20 years?” Your temper was flaring up a little. “I don´t care because you´re so fucking hot I can barely keep my hands to myself. I don´t care because you´re gentle with the people you love or want to protect and ruthless to those who harm the innocent. You can be so insanely funny when you let loose a little and I pride myself in the fact that I manage to tickle that out of you sometimes. I don´t care because you don’t give a fuck about what people think about you but care about what they think of me…that´s the reason you always leave and never stay the night, isn’t it? So no one sees you leave my apartment and judges me. Isn´t that right?” Your eyes were hard when you looked into his face again.
Joels eyes were wide with recognition and his mouth slightly open with surprise. He certainly didn’t expect this turn in the conversation. “I´m much older than you” he said lamely. “I don´t want people to think you don´t have other options or…I´m blackmailing you somehow. Argh, I don´t know” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Joel” you said as gently as you could and it made his stomach spasm. “Joel, that´s not the case. No one is thinking that.” He scoffed. “And even if they did, they can suck some donkey´s ass for all I care!” You grumbled and kissed his chest. “I like you, Joel. I like you a fucking lot and if the last 20 years have taught me anything, it´s that we cannot make our happiness dependent on others. We have to make it on our own. At least until we find people that understand us and accept us.” You looked into his dark eyes. “If it helps…there are one or two people out there who´ve known about my… strong infatuation with you even before you asked me out. And they are very happy for me.” You didn’t know why you were blushing now. Joel had been inside of you only minutes before.
He looked at you a little dumbly but with a racing heart. “Y-You told people you have…a thing for me?” You shook your head. “No, not a thing, dumbass, you need to listen” you said sternly. “I told people that I´m infatuated with you. That I am besotted with you. That I like you! Do you get that now?” Beginning to get a little annoyed and also fighting your own insecurities, you waited for his answer. Under your palm you felt his heart pick up once more. It was like his whole body was kick starting as heat encased you yet again. With precise and quick movements Joel grabbed your waist and suddenly and with a little shriek you found yourself on your back, buried underneath him.
His eyes were the colour of coffee reflecting sunlight as he licked his lips and stared down at you. Well, you guessed this wasn´t a rejection then. “Woman” he growled. “I don´t know how you do it, but you…” he looked lost for words then sighed deeply. “I really” he kissed your nose “really” he kissed your forehead “like you too.” He kissed your lips deeply. Humming you snaked your arms around his strong neck again and pulled.
“Will you please st-“
“Yes” he interrupted against your lips.
“Yes. This is going to take until sunrise anyway so,” he grinned and descended to your neck as his tongue lightly tickled your skin. “I´ll be here all night.” You grinned and arched into him. “Don´t let me stop you then.”
The next morning Joel woke up to the smell of instant coffee and eggs, overpowered only by your scent that still clung to his skin and your pillow. Like a lovesick teenager he turned his head into the pillow and took a deep breath. Instant calmness and happiness washed over him. A feeling he´d almost forgotten. A feeling he could have sworn was lost to him, even before the outbreak. It hit him so incredibly hard he jumped out of your bed almost in a craze. With a pounding heart, almost in panic he swung open your bedroom door and stormed into your living room. To his left was your open little kitchen and there…you stood.
You held the pan with fried eggs in hand, spatula halted in the air as you looked at him with big eyes full of curiosity. “Joel?” His chest was heaving as he took you in fully. You were wearing a white top, no bra and plaid shorts that stopped mid-thigh. Driven by the promise of your warmth and still the almost impending panic in his system he moved forward, stretching his arms out to you. You let go of the pan and spatula immediately.
He crashed into you, pulling you so close to his chest you momentarily lost your breath. One hand came to the back of your head, burying into your hair, the other one rested on your waist, pulling you into him. Your own arms came around his waist immediately as you mumbled into his neck. “Joel? What´s happened?” His breathing was calm but his heart was not. “Bad memory…crept in on me” he said. It was only half a lie. He did remember something. But it wasn´t anything bad. At least, he hoped not. “I see” you said gently and squeezed him a little more. He rested his cheek onto your head and just stood there with you for a while. You enjoyed every second of it, your thumbs painting patterns onto his skin. Gently you kissed his neck. “Better?” you asked and lifted your head slightly. Joel looked down at you and lightly tapped the tip of your nose with his own. “Yeah” he drawled. “Yeah, ´s better now, darlin´.” Oh. Dear. Gods. Above. The accent…you felt your knees weaken as you tried to control your bodies reaction.
You cleared your throat and leaned back slightly. “Eggs are getting cold” you whispered. “Breakfast. Go sit down” you almost couldn’t look at him. He leaned down, looking at you so intently you forgot how to breath. “Yes ma´am” he said in a gravelly voice and hadn´t his arms still been encasing you, you knew you would have slithered down your cabinets. His lips where on yours the next second and far too quickly he released you again. Your lips tingling and a very strange feeling in your gut.
After breakfast, Joel wanted to work on the drain outside of his and Ellies house and you decided to visit Dakota in the bakery. She needed a well deserved update. The both of you exited your apartment, descended the flight of stairs and came to a stop in front of the bakery. Joel looked at you fondly although a nervous tick lifted the corner of his mouth. You took initiative. Smiling up at him like he was a precious price you´d just won, you leaned in, lay your hands on his chest and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Joel took a deep breath and as you leaned back reached out his hand and gently stroked the apple of your cheek.
“See you at the bar tonight for dinner?” he asked. You grinned and nodded yes immediately. Watching him leave into the direction of his house you turned on your heals and dramatically opened the doors to the bakery. Dakota was already sitting on the counter, flower in her hair as always and the most shit eating grin on her face you´d ever seen on a person. “You absolute devil of a woman. How the fuck did you do that?” she asked with more than just awe in her voice.
“Do what?” you asked, genuinely confused for a second. Dakota rolled her eyes. “Sweet cheeks. Joel doesn’t exactly have the reputation of lovey dovey boyfriend material. So, how´d you do it? Seeing that just now...that man eats out of the palm of your hand!” She cackled at her last statement while you thought about it. She was absolutely right. The man that you first met a couple of months ago and the man that had just said goodbye…they weren’t exactly the same. “Maybe that´s a good thing” you said defiantly, smirking at your friend. Dakota nodded and threw you a piece of freshly baked baguette.
“Maybe now he can let loose a little.” She said wisely. “The fucking must be glorious!” You threw your head back as you laughed and hopped onto the counter as well. “Oh, Ducky. You have no idea.”
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Joel was looking at his freshly showered face as he buttoned up his dark green plaid shirt. His hand glided over his hair and his beard. You called him hot. He almost scoffed again but wrangled it down. If you said it was hard for you not to touch him, he´d do his best to believe it. For fucks sake, you had his dick in your mouth last night…twice... and he still thought about if your actions were genuine.
When he praised your body all night long he knew in his heart every word was nothing but the truth. So he really had to believe you too. That also meant that he should really start not giving a shit about what other people thought of their…relationship? Situationship? Maybe…if he made his interest in you known to everyone, situations like the one with Levi would probably not happen again.
His chest expanded in an involuntary growl thinking about the man that had dared to lay his hands on you. He remembered the hot white jealousy he felt and the rage when he saw it. A weird possessive feeling spread through him and somehow he marvelled in it. He couldn’t wait to see you tonight. He´d loved the time he had you all to himself in his or your room. It was time however to let the people know that you were his and he wouldn’t tolerate anyone’s hands on you except his own.
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The moment you spotted him standing in front of the barn you knew something was different. He carried himself differently. He was talking to his brother who spotted you first, smirked and patted Joels back before entering the barn.
Joels head whipped towards you and he smiled. Your heart was in your throat all of a sudden. When you stood in front of him, admiring his broad body once again he hummed contently and gave you a firm hug. “Hungry?” he asked into your hair. “Yeah” you breathed in surprise. He let go of you and gently guided you inside the barn with a warm hand on your back. The feeling was indescribable. You had so idea how much you actually wanted him to show his affections in public. It made you feel like this wasn’t just pure attraction and sexual tension.
Joel guided you to one of the free tables and pulled out a chair, looking at you expectantly. From the corner of your eye you could see a few eyes on you. In the back at the bar were Tommi and his wife, watching and smiling. You thanked Joel and sat down with a soft smile. “I´ll be right back” he said and made his way over to the woman who gave out the food for that day. You watched as he gave her a polite nod and waited for her to prepare two plates. With a stinging feeling you saw how she was hungrily looking at Joels exposed forearms that he´d crossed in front of his chest. You saw her say something while leaning suspiciously close to him. A saucy smile on her lips that made your lip curl before you saw Joel´s mouth move. He had a tight lipped smile on his face and suddenly her saucy smile fell a little. You could still see her staring at him while he retreated. Another peng in your chest as you saw her eyes move way too low for your liking.
So, when he made his way back to you, you made a bit of a show of letting your gaze glide over his chest, neck and down to his crotch. Lifting an eyebrow he sat your food in front of you and sat down next to you. “Soooo” you drawled and turned your upper body towards him. “Wanna tell me what this is about?” you asked and gestured to him in general. “What do you mean, darlin`?” he faked a bewildered look. “Oh please,” you giggled. “You´re openly flirting, being incredibly chivalrous and look like sex on legs. What´s a girl to think?”
“Maybe what I want a girl to think is that I am completely under her spell and I think people should know that” he said earnestly. You felt your face heat up and resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. So, you opted with staring at him a bit too long before you giggled and leaned in closer. “A girl is very, very happy about that.” Joel took a deep breath and nodded. “Eat” he said. “I plan on having a few drinks with you tonight. You know, to celebrate your victory over me” he winked.
“Victory? Was there a battle?” you asked curiously. He shrugged a little. “Momentarily.” His face became serious for a second. “I´m glad you fought for me, though.” Your heart all but melted when he said that. “I´d do it a million times over” you said. He exhaled through his nose, took your hand and gave it a quick kiss. With a roaring satisfaction you saw how the woman that was oogling him before suddenly looked very sour and turned away. A massive sense of “mine” invaded your body as you gave him a heated look.
All fed and happy you strolled over to the bar, Joels arm around your waist. You were glad that no one gave you any dirty looks. Other than one or the other disappointed glance from various women. But you could live with that. The evening proceeded and it was the most fun you had in ages. Music was playing, you were drinking and Joel got touchier by the minute. Nothing dirty or inappropriate but people had to be blind not to see how much he enjoyed being with you.
Around midnight however you spotted something that made your blood boil so bad, you almost threw your glass of whiskey against a wall. Joel was standing next to you talking to one of the horse handlers as you saw the uncomfortable face of a young girl across the room. She was trying to establish distance from a very persistent…Levi. He constantly reached out his hand to touch her in some way and her back made it unconsciously close to a wall. If he managed to corner her…
Your legs moved on their own accord. Bothering you for ages and making you feel uncomfortable was one thing. He´d been one more sentence away from a beating from you anyway. But bothering this young girl and cornering her? Fuck no. That beating was coming. You weren’t even thinking about Joel. Tunnel vision led you directly to the girl. Thankfully she moved back from him in another direction so you now came right up behind her. Levi saw you and an ugly grin made its way onto his sharp features.
As soon as you were in earshot and you could see that he once again was red in the face from too much alcohol he looked directly at you, liking his lips. “I knew a little jealousy would make you see reason,___.” He cackled. “Seriously, trying to make me jealous with that grandpa was just too pathetic.” Rage was coursing through you like fire as you gently pushed the young girl aside and gestured her to get away. She didn’t hesitate for a second whispering a quick thank you.
“As far as I remember that grandpa kicked your ass the last time you dared being disrespectful to me” you hissed in a deadly tone. Levi´s eyes squinted. “That dirty old fucker better watch nex-“ WHAM! With all you might your arm pulled back and your fist collided with Levi´s jaw. Pain shot through your hand but you paid it no mind. A red sheen invaded your vision as Levi tumbled back, you following and WHAM, your next blow, quite uncoordinated collided with Levi´s ear. He fell to the ground as you panted above him, still standing and seething. “Let me get one thing straight, Levi” you spat. “If I see you one more time making some poor girl uncomfortable, I will personally see to it that you´ll be castrated in the towns square, do you hear me?!” Your voice got louder with every word. “One more time, Levi and I swear that´ll be the longest time you have balls!” You breathed heavily, lowering your voice considerably. "And if you ever dare to say another bad word about Joel, I´ll not only castrate you, I will showcase your balls in jar full of formaldehyde right behind the bar!"
Two men had already grabbed Levi by the arms and dragged him over to the door, smirking at his feeble attempts to fight them off.
The red sheen vanished from your eyes as you stretched to your full hight and turned around, shaking your aching hand. As you looked at it though nothing seemed to be injured. Maybe a bruise would form but nothing a little ice could handle.
When you lifted your head you stopped in your tracks. All eyes in the barn were on you. Heat crept up your neck when you realised that you had probably caused a major scene. Your eyes soughed out Joel´s. You found them immediately and a shiver ran down your spine. He stood still at the bar, glass in hand still and a look of pride, amusement and fiery passion in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact he set down his glass on the bar and walked over to you slowly. Your feet began moving as well, though much quicker as his.
Faintly you could hear how everyone picked up on their previous conversations again and the music became a bit louder. When Joel reached you he still looked like he was about to devour you and laugh his ass off at the same time. With a deep breath he held your face in his hands and with a not so quiet voice, swollen with pride he said “That´s my girl, baby!”
His kiss that followed was electric. Already shaking from its intensity you grabbed onto his shoulders and let him guide. Open mouthed, he took your lips with his in a persistent dance and groaned lightly when he felt your nails bite into his neck. When he let go of you, the ringing in your ears finally let you hear the several hoops and hollers from the spectators around you. You couldn’t help the massive grin that was forming on your face.
“Fucking finally!” you heard a bored voice next to you and saw Ellie smirking at you. Joel already gave her a warning glance. “What?!” she looked at him defiantly. “At least now I can stop lying to people when they ask me about who your date was with and I had to say I didn’t know!” She winked at you. “You owe me one. And now excuse me, I have to get this image out of my brain…and the one from last time as well!”
“Follow me” Joel growled in your ear and took your hand. Leading you towards the kitchen you thought he´d go get some ice for your hand but before you reached the kitchen he made a right and led you down a small hallway towards the backdoor. Your heart was beating out of your chest at this point.
The warm night air hit your face and you took a deep gulp. Joel stopped and quickly looked left and right. To your left where the paddocks for the horses and next to them, neatly stacked into a dark corner, some straw barrels. “Perfect” he muttered to himself and started walking again.
“Joel…erm...” you said with an amused voice. You could see how tense his shoulders were, heard his breath escape his mouth. “I´ll get you some ice for your hand in a minute baby but right now I hope you´ll forgive me…If I don’t fuck you within the next minute, I´m going berserk.” Fluid heat raged through your veins immediately and you already felt its effect on your panties. “Jesus, fuck” you huffed as you reached the barrels and Joel spun you around and pinned you to one of them. His mouth immediately went right to your neck and bit down hard.
A moan raptured from your throat as he licked the sting and groaned at the taste of you. “Sorry darlin´,” he panted against your chest. His fingers inside your cleavage already, searching for your sensitive nipple. “This is going to be quick and desperate. If you´re up for it.” Your head was hazy and leaned back. You spoke to the night sky when you said “Wouldn´t have it any other way.”
With your last willpower you turned around and leaned your elbows on the barrel bending over. Looking over your shoulder with half lidded eyes you wiggled your ass. “Come on, handsome. ´M ready. Quick and dirty.” You moved one of your hands and bunched your dress up to your thigh.
An animalistic growl escaped Joel when he saw the moonlight reflect off of your sweaty thigh. Like a vice his hand gripped yours and led it back to the barrel. “Leave it there” he hissed. Not a minute later your panties dangled somewhere around your ancles, your dress was hiked up over your ass and the sound of Joels belt buckle made your thighs quiver.
“My gorgeous fucking girl, look at you” he panted in awe. “You´re glistening, baby. So ready for me.” You nodded and whined pathetically as you felt the tip of his cock slowly inch into you. “Fuck” you heard Joel growl. “Be ready!” With these words and one powerful thrust he leaned over you and buried himself as deeply inside of you as he could. A shout escaped your moth as you felt his pure desperation in every movement he made. One hand came down next to your ear for support before the other grabbed your hip. “So fucking hot” Joel breathed as his hips snapped into you from behind with bruising accuracy. “Never seen something so hot. God, baby. You smashed that fuckers face in!”
You whined and tried to stay quiet but it was next to impossible. “F-for you. Ah! Shit…He was…he was talking shit about y-you. Oh, oh, hmm!” Joel growled again in a mixture of lust and fury. “I heard” he panted and picked you up by the shoulders. Pressing your back against his chest he picked up speed again and was now rutting into you like a man possessed. He grabbed onto your breast as his other hand quickly moved towards your centre. “Of fuck! Joel, Joel! I´m gonna cum…please!” Your voice spiralled to the beats of the music still coming from the barn.
“I know, doll. I know. Let me help you. I´m. There. With. You.” He accentuated every word with another grind against your ass. The moment he found your clit all you could see was darkness. And then it all exploded into a firework of sparks as you gasped for air, gripping his cock like a vice and trying to will your vocal cords to say his name. “That´s it! Fuck, sweet thing. That´s it! Fuck, yes. Fuck! Yes! Argh!” he yelled into your hair as he pulled himself out of you quickly and spilled all over your inner thighs. You felt his stickiness run along your skin and another wave of shivers wrecked your body. Joel was panting behind you, still holding you up with one arm and slowly relaxing his grip on you.
“Holy shit” he mumbled and kissed your temple. “Are you all right?”
You giggled and leaned your head back onto his shoulder. “Hmmm” you hummed with a smile. “Yes. I am so, so alright. That was incredible.” Joel nuzzled your hair again. “I´m glad” he said gravelly. “I don’t think I would´ve survived if I didn’t take you right that second. Fuckin´ hell.”
You giggled and slowly turned around, the skirt of your dress falling over your thighs again. “Thank fuck, you did” you grinned and pulled him down for a long kiss. Sorting out your underwear while Joel put himself back into his jeans he suddenly grabbed and hoisted you onto the barrel. Looking down on him slightly you hugged him close with your thighs and looked at him expectantly.
“Got something to say” he whispered and stroked your hair affectionately. “Listening” you said and lightly kissed his lips. He chuckled and chased yours briefly. He opened his eyes and looked at you with affection and incredible softness. “I still know the exact moment I told a girl this for the first time. Needless to say it didn’t work out but…I´m trying to say that I don’t say these things lightly and sure as fuck, not often.” You nodded and let him continue. He took a deep breath. “I´m falling in love with you,___.”
You could have cried. Shaking fingers touched his jaw on both sides as you leaned your forehead to his in a gesture of pure affection and yes, love.
“So am I, Joel” you whispered with tears in your voice. He moved his head from left to right with immense gentleness and leaned in to kiss your lips sensually. His tongue moved over yours with precision and purpose. Minutes later the both of you came up for some much needed deep breaths and chuckled at the state you both were in.
Dishevelled hair, kiss swollen lips and crumpled clothing. “How´s your hand, my love?” he asked gently and took it in his hand. You shook your hand. “I´ll live. But some ice would be good I think.” Joel nodded and helped you down the barrel. He kissed your forehead quickly. “Wanna go to the toilet and…sort yourself out first?” he asked with a bit of a shy tone. “Sorry about the mess.” You grinned and took his hand, pulling him towards the barn again. “You know what? I think I´ll let it be as is for tonight" you grinned over at him. His mouth hung open. “Oh, you absolute temptress” he breathed with a dry mouth. “You better watch it before I put you over my knee.”
Opening the door to the back and the kitchen you turned around and pulled him down for another kiss and you spoke into his mouth. “We have all the time in the world for that, handsome. Let´s start with ice cubes” Joel growled against you. “And get to spanking later.”
That night, you fell asleep in each other´s arms. Sweet words on your lips, content, happy and for the first time in 20 years, with the feeling of hope for a content life.
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Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you think through a comment or reblog. Likes of course always make my day <3
Love you all and please be safe <3
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gosh i have been big thinking about makima x kobeni since i finished p1 thank you for all this delicious food
You ever pondered how they would work in canon? like how would it best be incorporated into the series/what their dynamic would be post p1 if somehow makima lived despite her warcrimes?
Regardless amazing art keep it up !
thank you!! i have a lot of thoughts about how it could work in canon and most of it is explored in my 40,000 word fan fiction that ive never posted anywhere
BUT i will share the short of it (putting it under a cut because long/spoilers)
like from what i gathered makima, at least to some extent, seems to equate 'equals' with 'person i cannot defeat in combat' and like her canonical downfall was ultimately due to underestimating denji because she just thought he was so beneath her that she didn't need to bother memorizing his smell and stuff right.
so with that in mind, i assume she also would see kobeni as kind of a weird bug that she doesn't really need to worry about. but imagine one day she just gets in her way Somehow and makima's like '🙄 guess i have to kill her but at least it'll be easy' so like she's gettin ready to blow kobeni's ass into smithereens but thanks to kobeni's shocking reflexes and plot armour she just can't kill her. like its like wile-e-coyote and the road runner like she tries droppin anvils on her and everything.
so ultimately because she underestimated kobeni she ends up getting her own ass kicked and she's just like 'damn i cun't believe i lost to this human' but shes also like '😳' so then its like... i dunno maybe her powers dont work on kobeni anymore and maybe once things smooth out a little she can finally have a human friend who kind of keeps her from going crazy and ALL this happens before everything goes Wrong so power and aki and all of everyone's favs (and himeno) can forever live in harmony because makima is too busy having the best gay sex of her life every day to be evil anymore.
...sorry that was a bit long i have a lot of thoughts abouyt them but thanks for reading if you made it this far.
as for how it'd work in a scenario where it was like... post pt.1 but makima survives instead, i think that's a bit harder to picture just because makima would be so far gone at that point i can't imagine kobeni would really want anything to do with her. it definitely could be interesting and i think it has a lot of angst potential but it's not something ive really put a lot of thought into yet 🤔 there could maybe be something to work with if you imagined kobeni feeling 'thankful' towards makima for giving her an excuse to cut ties with her family, but i dunno how i'd tackle that personally. too heavy
#etc.#funny friends tag#to be honest this is all a bit tongue in cheek. its just for fun. but i love them with my whole heart regardless#csm spoilers
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HERE HAVE SOME MORE GOV-ANGST CHILDREN TAKE IT AND RUN BEFORE GUESS KILLS ME- (/j)
PA walked into the Main Floor Kitchen where he saw Gov standing and making coffee. The younger seemed to be frantically sending texts to multiple different people, and the Keystone State tried to ignore how tired and exhausted and just- done. Gov looked. It hurt to see his son like this, but PA wouldn’t admit it.
He walked over to the cupboard to grab a cup, and he noticed that Gov, who was right next to him, flinched when he raised his arm up to grab a cup. Huh. Weird.
"Gov? Ya good dumbass?" PA asked with a slight snort. He looked to Gov when the younger didn’t give an answer. Gov seemed to be zoned out, look at the kitchen counter if all places. He roughly poked the taller in the ribs, trying to gain his attention. Which he did, but Gov flinched and gave a small yelp. PA gained a more serious (CONCERNED-) look on his face and started prodding around random areas of Gov’s torso, seeing if maybe he was hurt.
"Eep!- Pa- - I mean- P-Pennsylvania stop!!-" Gov squeaked out, trying to get away from his father’s hands.
"Shut up and tell me where yer hurt!!!" PA shouted, grabbing Gov’s shoulders. He tried to ignore the terrified look in the younger’s eyes when he raised his voice.
"I-I’m n-not hurt! I just thought that-….” Gov cut himself and trailed off, which only made PA more annoyed.
"Well?? Spit it the f*ck out!!" PA shouted again, not realizing that his anger and shouting was scaring the taller personification, who had backed into a corner. PA simply followed Gov into said corner, awaiting the younger’s answer.
Gov teared up a little and flinched again, putting his arms up a little as if to protect himself. "I-I thought y-you were g-gonna hit me…..”
PA’s face instantly softened a bit, and he gave Gov a confused/annoyed look, "Why the hell would I bother with hurtin’ you?? Are ya stupid or some sh*t?"
Gov at this point looked like the equivalent to a small frazzled kitten as he responded:
"Y-yes- w-well no I just thought- I uh….. i don’t know I don’t know…-" Damn. His breathing sure sped up a lot.
"Hey hey hey….. shhhh….. breathe okay? Can yer dumbass do that?” PA said, gently (or at least as gentle as he could-) guiding Gov into a sitting position on the kitchen floor. Sh*t- what next- PA didn’t necessarily know what to do here. So he just opted to gently rub Gov’s back and try to get his son to do some breathing exercises to calm down. That sorta worked, but Gov was still panicking and crying a bit. PA sighed and pulled the taller man into his lap (dw PA ain’t that tiny. He’s 5’8 and Gov is 6’1-) and hugged him close, laying the younger’s head on his chest.
Gov eventually calmed down, and only a few tears were rolling down his face as he was held and hugged by the man he called his father. He sat there curled up and closed his eyes as he listened to PA’s heartbeat, which aided in calming him.
"Kid? Ya good now?" Asked PA, who was trying to make his voice calmer and quieter.
"I-I think s-s-so…..” Gov squeaked when he felt a gentle hand rubbing his arm in a soothing manner.
"Okay….. Good enough to answer more questions?"
"Yeah….."
PA moved his hand up to gently run his fingers through Gov’s hair, a tactic he always used with Massachusetts (YES I SHIP THEM LEAVE ME BE 😭) to calm him down on a rough day. "Alright….. Why the f*ck didja think that I was gonna hit ya?"
Gov was silent for a few seconds, but he answered: "I-I dunno….. you always act like yer gonna….. and you were mad and yelling I just t-thought t-that y-y’know-“
"Hush…. Yer gettin’ worked up again moron." PA said, giving a small not-very-well-hidden chuckle. "As for the…..hittin’ ya thing….. I know, I know I act like I’m gonna hit ya…. But ya know that I would neva’ actually hit ya right?"
"…."
"Gov, yer my kid. I would neva’ physically hurt you unless it was absolutely necessary. Like- if ya were attackin’ someone. Which- you wouldn’t do. So ya don’t need to worry about me hurtin’ ya. Ya got that?" PA asked, switching to gently scratching Gov’s scalp. He smiled a tiny bit when he heard and felt Gov’s little purrs of bliss.
"Mhm…." Gov sounded rather unsure of his answer, and PA could tell.
"Gov?"
"Hm?"
"Do ya actually get it?"
"…..*sigh* yeah…."
"Okay. Good. Glad I got that through that thick skull o’ yours." PA said. He gently nuzzles the top of Gov’s hair, and he continued to hold him until Gov fell asleep. Good.
@greatinternetllama :)
And @misery-has-no-company-now I tortured him :3
#welcome to the table#welcome to the statehouse#ben brainard#wttt#wttsh#wttt gov#wttsh gov#wttt pennsylvania#wttsh pennsylvania#wttt massachusetts#< prev tags#but he’s only mentioned.#LISTEN PA IS TRYING OKAY 😭#he’s just doing a sh*t job at doing it-#BUT HES TRYING
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Jealous - You’re Dean’s
Word Count: ~775
Warnings: some angst from self-esteem trauma (Dean’s), slightly possessive language, mentions of rough sex and overstimulation, slight dom!dean
A/n: part of the Dean Winchester NSFW Alphabet
Honestly, Dean’s never had much reason to be jealous of other men.
I mean, of their kids-and-a-dog-and-a-manicured-lawn apple pie lives, maybe.
Or their blissful ignorance of all things monster, sure.
But not over their game with women.
There’s never been a day in his entire adult life that he hasn’t had the upper hand in that fight.
So naturally, it surprised him when he started to get possessive over you – he hadn’t really ever felt that way about girls before.
But you were special.
And he was more in love with you than he'd ever thought possible.
So he found himself getting a bit territorial.
C’mon, y/n. Territorial and protective are two different things.
You’re not property, you’re just… precious.
But also kinda mine, right?
Dean never explodes in a jealous rage, but it stings him a little if you’re flirting around too much. Not because he really minds you doing it – you’re your own person, and he loves that about you. And your flirting game is pretty impressive to watch, Sweetness. It makes me flattered to have you and amused and really fuckin’ turned on, all at once. Those poor bastards never know what hit ‘em.
I’m always into it when that’s the sexy little game we’re playin’ for the night.
What a show.
But deep down, he still struggles with his old, deep-seated self-worth issues and he kinda wonders if you wouldn’t be better off with one of those other guys.
He can’t help it.
Decades of viewing himself as relatively worthless left a scar that might never entirely go away.
And it breaks your heart.
Over time, you’ve worked hard to tone down your naturally coquettish disposition by a bit – you never want him to question his place in your heart or your life.
He’s your everything.
That’s never gonna make much sense to me, y/n. How someone as stunning as you are could find me worth loving as deeply as you do.
Guess I’m just really damn lucky.
You tell him that it’s not luck;
it’s his huge heart
and his giving nature
and his dorky sense of humor
and his beautiful mind
and a million other breathtaking little pieces of him that make him so very, very worth loving.
And he’s finally kinda starting to believe it.
These days, accidentally slipping into your bewitching banter when you’re speaking with a stranger mostly just gives him fuel for punishing you later.
A handy excuse for him to take you apart in the rough ways that you both crave now and then.
The first time it happened was a happy mistake.
You hadn’t realized that seeing you use your tempting little tricks on other men would make him feel the need to fuck you back into your place.
But when he went feral with possessive authority as soon as you got back to the motel room, you decided that you were gonna have to repeat that particular offense pretty often.
It didn’t take long for Dean to catch on to the fact that you made him jealous on purpose.
Yeah, you’re not that subtle, Sweetness.
But that’s alright.
I’m more than happy to scratch your itch for a filthy fuck any day of the week.
Never gonna hear me complainin’ about that.
More often than not, the nights that you’ve been flirtatious and feisty just to rile him up end in magical, merciless pleasure from your silver-tongued softdom, your pussy overstimulated and your brain in a floaty fog of pure euphoria.
Nuh uh. No whinin’.
You’re the one that wanted reminded of your place, Sweetness.
You know how it gets to me when you go flaunting what’s mine in front of other men.
I know you do.
And making you cum over and over again while my name falls from your perfect lips until your throat goes hoarse is just about the best way I know how to fuck that fact into you.
So you’re gettin’ what you asked for really, aren’t ya y/n?
You try your best to form intelligible words as he sends you spiraling towards your sixth orgasm of the night, begging and keening as he forces you over the edge.
Yeah, that’s it. Let go for me, Sweetness.
Theeere ya go. Fuck. Good girl.
Who’s makin’ you feel so fuckin’ amazing, y/n? Whose pussy is this?
And you try to oblige him.
To make your lips move and tell him it’s his.
That you’re his.
But you’ve lost the ability to speak, too high on his decadent devotion to think straight.
Tell me you’re fuckin’ mine, y/n. C’mon.
Yours. Yours forever. Always yours, Dean.
@mwitsmejk @akshi8278 @love-jackles
#dean winchester abcs#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester smut#supernatural smut#nsfwabcs#winniewrites
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