#I’m not adding to the list I’ve made my point
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Capriciously_Terminal! @capriciouslyterminal has 106 fics on ao3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 105 of them are in the Steddie tag!
@mustardyellowlilac recommends the following works by Capriciously_Terminal:
Where the Sun Can't Reach
Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been
It's the Ritual of the Thing
Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)
It's as if she writes memories, rather than stories, and that makes them tangible and devastating -- @mustardyellowlilac
Below the cut, @capriciouslyterminal answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I started writing Steddie because the characters of Steve and Eddie have such specific and human voices that I literally couldn’t get them out of my head after watching the first drop of S4. (Also I’d just gotten a new puppy who didn’t love sleeping through the night so I had plenty of time to think). The more I wrote for them the deeper I found myself in their voices and thinking about what they could do and I had to keep going until I ran out of steam.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I love a good “Steddie interwoven into previous seasons’ canon events” story. Especially if an author makes it SO specific. I want Steve and Eddie in Starcourt. I want Eddie Munson popping up at the pumpkin patch. I want Eddie Munson in the background at Starcourt drooling. I want him to spend this whole time watching Steve’s character growth and finding it impossibly hot before getting twisted up in the horror.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
I definitely love adding Eddie Munson to canon (thinking about him and life-guard Steve Harrington is where this all began, afterall). However I think that I, as a person, am just as obsessed with The Horrors. As such adding monstrosity/new flavors of spooky to this show was my favorite thing to do.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
I can narrow it down to two! My favorite piece of Steddie fic that changed my brain chemistry has got to be fastcardotmp3’s “that’s just wasteland, baby!” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42351597) because the scene in the lake? The genuine wonderful take on in media res apocalypse living? Dot’s talent for characterization/love? I’ll never live it down. Actually, go read everything by fastcardotmp3. Do yourself a favor.
The other has to be “every mistake was made purposefully” by birthdaycandles (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41795838/chapters/104862381). It turns out I’m a sucker for excellent narration and watching Steddie/plot shenanigans from Tommy Hagan’s prickly point of view. It gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I always wanted to write a When Harry Met Sally AU about Steve and Eddie meeting throughout their lives/development. I don’t know if I’ll ever pick it up again but it’s still there knocking at the back of my mind. I’ve also got like fifteen of the drabbles in i love you you dope with bits of continuation in my head too.
What is your writing process like?
In general, my writing is a very all or nothing process. It’s either going to go all day, through meals, and not stop until the idea is finished OR I’m going to be stalled completely. Generally, though, if I’m in my crazy inspired phase I’ll have an idea (specifically the beginning of something) and if that idea sticks in my head for more than a single day then I probably can’t leave it until it’s done. However, this did change with my writing i love you you dope. I decided to answer p0ck3tf0x's "100 Ways to Say I Love You" list one prompt at a time. Once a day. RIP. This led to a writing process which was more of a sit down after work and immediately write the first thing you could think of until it’s done kind of affair. I can’t recommend that style lol. It led to some pretty intense burnout by the end but I am proud of how many ideas came because of it. It showed that, through tenacity, most ideas could be something worth pursuing.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I can’t help but put first and second person pronouns in descriptions as if speaking to the reader and I’m a frequent and blatant tense shifter. It’s all over the place at times lol. I also LOVE a good stream of consciousness description, flitting from one image to another, which probably lead to these grammatical quirks and a shit ton of run-on sentences.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Before I started writing i love you you dope I very much preferred finishing my writing before I posted it. It took ages but nothing felt worse than having to leave something unfinished because I’d lost the plot (which has happened several times). However, part of the draw of i love you you dope was that (as a challenge) I had to write and post daily. While I learned I can write on such a grueling schedule, I can safely say after finishing it that I prefer having the time to ensure something’s to my standards. Or, at least, until I’m tired of looking at it and just want other people to see it.
Which fic are you most proud of?
If we branch outside of my Steddie work it’s a fic for a little show called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency that I think I’ll never top. A Road Song in Quartet that Smells like a Trio is basically my novel/brain-child about my favorite rowdy vampire boys and I have to shout it out everywhere I go. However, to stick to the Steddie, I had such a great time with characterization in writing It’s the Ritual of the Thing. Some of those descriptions are still some of my best work. Or, I’d have to say, Can We Both Be Lonely If We’re Both Looking at Each Other? It’s an AU modeled after the world of The Magnus Archives Podcast and not only was I proud of the way I was able to layer monstrosity on both Eddie and Steve but I just loved the world. I actually planned out a whole main plot for the world that never saw the light of day.
How did you get the idea for Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)?
I can’t remember which came first, the title or the idea of Eddie meeting Death as played by Steve Harrington, but the song title by Blue Öyster Cult had definitely been sitting in my head for a while. The idea initially started as a Seventh Seal reference with Eddie having to challenge Death with Steve Harrington’s face to a game of basketball but that scene wasn’t working so instead we got a trip through various S4 locales and a fun Death with good hair.
When writing Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been, what was something you didn’t expect?
I honestly didn’t know if anyone would vibe with the language/story. For a fic that focused a lot on unease, offal, and how hard it would be to picture a future in a small town I was waiting for people to not touch this one with a ten foot pole. So to hear that it actually channeled people’s feelings or that it was something that people enjoyed (as opposed to just me shouting stressful things at the sky) was a big expectation dodge.
What inspired It's the Ritual of the Thing?
When I was in high school I had a friend who asked me out once, the first person to ever do so, and my first instinctual response was to genuinely ask him why he was really calling me after school. He insisted that he really did want to ask me out and for some reason that made my blood run cold. The date did not go well, obviously, but I remembered the gut punch to think someone wouldn’t want you/the desire to say no just because it frightened you for years afterwards. It felt like such an Eddie thing to feel, especially if Steve Harrington was the one to ask him out. Honestly…I poured a lot of my own worldview into Eddie Munson as I wrote him and that’s where a lot of this came from.
What was your favorite part to write from Ritual of the Thing?
I’d have to say it’s a toss up between two parts. Firstly, I’ll never get over the descriptive imagery in the beginning (I’ll never forget lines like “Suddenly it’s like he’s a Jack-O-Lantern with his mouth carved open. A candle sits on his tongue and its light is shining out of his eyes”). It was the kind of sentence I was thrilled to read after I wrote it. Secondly, I was really proud of Eddie and Robin’s conversation after Steve told her about his asking Eddie out. I loved both of their voices in that moment and the thought of Robin trying to explain how much Steve could love you even after you’d had to let him down…and her little fake nightmare discussion.
How do/did you feel writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?
On one hand it felt like I was exorcizing something because I show my class The Sandlot once a year and that means for one day I watch the scene where the kid fakes drowning to make-out with the lifeguard four times. That’s too many times. I had to process that. But I do remember that feeling of loneliness that could come with summer. That could come with wishing for a room somewhere with someone you loved when it felt impossible. I remember when the smallest of things could mean the world when you had nothing else…so in a way maybe I was exorcizing that too.
What was the most difficult part of writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?
Besides the jokey answer of reliving the aforementioned scene from The Sandlot on purpose, I’d have to say trying to accurately consider the physics/feelings of Eddie’s trip into the water. The feelings/actual consequences of hitting his head. I’m not too sure I got the details right but I remember working on it so many times that I eventually threw in the towel and went with what I had.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
I think…it’s gotta go to my lone vampire Steddie fic I Go Hungry Every Night. The whole thing’s one big treatise to Upside Down skinned vampires and food/service as a love language? And also the fact that I love vampires/monstrosity. I just went way too hard with the line:
“If you asked Steve what the opposite of tracing constellations in someone’s freckles in the afterglow would be he’d say this, making shapes in the pieces of the wound they’ve given you. The one that weeps red slowly.”
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
While I wish I did, and I’m always thinking about various unfinished fics in the strangest moments of my life, I think I’m pretty knocked from my Steddie writing mojo. I love you you dope was an incredible process and I am so proud of it…but I think it cauterized my writing brain for Steddie. I’d love for people to poke around the fics I wrote and I will say that other people’s intrigue sometimes pulls my attention back to old ideas…but I do believe I’m a bit out to pasture here lol.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Writing Steddie was something that kept me sane during a really stressful transition from college to adulthood. These characters and all the people I got to meet/talk with in this fandom have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I’m so honored, like honestly floored, that anyone would nominate me for something like this. The thing about writing fic is that oftentimes when you start it can feel like you can’t possibly amount to what other people do. Like you’re just a little voice that doesn’t have anything special about it even when you tried so hard. But I stand as someone who felt that way and still found that people did enjoy what I wrote and if I can do it, honestly, anyone can. <3
Thank you to our author, @capriciouslyterminal, and our nominator, @mustardyellowlilac! See more of Capriciously_Terminal's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
#writer's wednesday#writer's spotlight#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#ao3 writer#steddie writers
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Ok enough boops, here's some actual asks ^^
What's your favourite colour and why? And what do you love doing the most in your free time?
Hot pink/magenta. We’re talking the obnoxiously bright version that technically isn’t real bc we can’t really see it, our eyes just register something that could be green but definitely isn’t so our brains make something up. I really like that tidbit, and also it’s fun enjoying something I “wasn’t supposed to” as a little boy. Feels liberating
Things I actively find enjoyment in on the level of loving them? Thaaaaaat’s kinda tough. Top of mind, it’s card games. Any kind, any flavor. TCGs, standard playing cards, deck builders, the works. Designing and playing! I play MTG the most, but I’ve also been known to enjoy
Yugioh
Pokémon
Cardfight Vanguard
Force of Will
Hearthstone (Blizzard is dead to me)
Legends of Runeterra (Riot is on thin fucking ice)
Hex: Shards of Fate (RIP)
Neopets (again, RIP)
War of Omens (an obscure digital CCG. I’m amazed it still exists)
plus some TCG/CCG/LCGs I’ve just not gotten around to (Flesh and Blood, Legend of the Five Rings, Keyforge, and Astatos at the top of the list)
Slay the Spire (the Downfall mod is SO GOOD)
Balatro (the latest roguelike devouring my attention)
Cobalt Core
Hellcard
Across the Obelisk
yet more increasingly obscure roguelike deckbuilders (Breach Wanderers, Pawnbarian, Card Guardians, Night of the Full Moon, Arcanium, etc)
Sentinels of the Multiverse
Gloomhaven
I’m not gonna keep listening tabletop ones you get the picture by now
And I DEFINITELY forgot some
#I like funny rectangles#god I didn’t even list any games with actual playing cards#I’m not adding to the list I’ve made my point
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Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.
——
If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.
But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.
“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”
“Got it.”
Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.
“Perfect.”
He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.
Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.
Time to check-
“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.
Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”
“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”
“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.
“So, Danny, are you going to college?”
Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”
Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.
“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.
Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”
In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.
“Oh, I see-”
“Father.”
“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.
“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”
Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.
Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.
Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.
“Hey, Clockwork?”
——
“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”
“I was not considering that, Damian.”
Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”
“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”
“Thank you, Tim.”
——
“Batman.”
“Oracle.”
“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."
Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)
"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."
"Understood."
——
"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."
"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"
Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.
He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.
Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.
Time to subtly grill the kid.
——
"Hey, Timmy?"
"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"
"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"
Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.
"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.
"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.
"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.
"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"
"Got proof?"
Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."
"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."
#batman#danny phantom#bruce wayne#himbo brucie wayne#stone cold batman#danny: im just trying to do my job#batdad and batsuspicion duking it out in the corner: i think not#damian wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover
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This isn’t funny like most of my story posts but enough people have asked some for my opinions about lubricants and general tips that I figured I’d do a little master post about it.
I’m not a doctor! I just worked in a sex shop for several years and picked up a bunch of helpful nuggets, here they are.
All the links will be funny stories though, if you’re looking for a laugh.
Lubricants:
Silicone
Silicone Lube Pros: This stuff is the energizer bunny of lubricant. A very small amount goes a really long way and cannot be absorbed into the body. For anal, those experiencing vaginal dryness, or just really good penetrative sex between partners silicone is wonderful. Silicone is also extremely inert and by itself cannot cause yeast infections or allergic reactions*. Doesn’t taste or smell of anything.
*Some manufactures may add things to silicone to cut costs that could negatively impact genitals, read ingredients.
Silicone Lube Cons: Not safe with toys. Silicone lube can bond to silicone toys, this is basically always terrible. Because of its nature it can be very difficult to clean up, rags might be necessary as water will not help you much. This lubricant can feel very thin to some people who might prefer a more substantial feel. Also it can stain clothes or bedding in large quantities so having a dedicated sex blanket or towel can save sheets.
Favorite Brand: Pjur. Spendier but best overall feeling to me, nice and silky and a single bottle will last ages.
Water Based
Water Based Pros: This lube is the work horse and skeleton key of lube. If you never want to worry about what bottle you reach for, water based always has your back. It’s safe with toys, condoms, you name it. It comes in a variety of thicknesses and viscosity, there’s truly a water based lube for every preference.
Water Based Cons: Tragically, we are made of water. Human bodies love to absorb the water part of this equation, meaning it needs to be reapplied more frequently. For certain activities or bodies it’s nicer to have a lube that doesn’t need quite so much reapplication. Additionally you have to be careful of what ingredients* get added, many cost saving ones are a yeast infection in a bottle.
*Never use Astroglide, KY, or Vaseline, they bank on brand recognition and make the shittiest lube in feel, performance, and body safety. Glycerin or glycol is always a red flag ingredient for vaginal use.
Favorite Brand: Earthly bodies WaterSlide. There are So Many water based options that it’s hard to pick. This was my go to because it has a pretty okay feel but its ingredients list is short and to the point with nothing offensive like glycol to watch out for. It rehydrates very nicely if you lick it, it doesn’t throw off vaginal pH, and it’s inexpensive and easy to get. Even Walmart has it.
Hybrid
Hybrid Lube Pros: As the name suggests this is like silicone and water based had a baby. This lubricant has more body than a traditional silicone while being much more long lasting than a water based on its own. It cleans up easier than silicone and is still a good option for any type of sex except toys.
Hybrid Lube Cons: Still not safe to use with toys. That’s basically it. It’s pretty great.
Favorite Brand: Sliquid. I love their hybrid, it feels very nice with more substance than a silicone on its own and they’re a very nice brand overall in every category.
Oil Based
Oil Based Pros: Oil based is almost always on hand in either olive or coconut oil, it’s second only to silicone in butt stuff territory and some people prefer oil. Like the Roman Empire, which, I can’t blame them. Tastes and smells pretty nice.
Oil based Cons: Cannot be used with condoms. Kind of a big deal! Using condoms with anal is still a good idea but oil based lost favor when it turned out it destroys the most common modern prophylactic. Additionally oil can mess with vaginal pH. Anecdotally I’ve had people tell me it was infection after infection and others who only ever used oil. Similar to silicone, tough to clean up.
Favorite Brand: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve never had personal experience with them and I don’t know which way to steer you, sorry. Messing with condoms mean that this lube has struggled commercially.
More Below, just don’t want this getting too long. (Also in case I need to add to this it’ll keep current version circulating if this blows up.)
Notable mentions for lube:
Spermicidal lube: Truly terrible for you. It causes micro tears and irritation which open you up to more disease and infections, besides which it tastes repulsive and is not a very effective preventative. Just don’t.
Flavored lube: I really don’t recommend this? Good lube doesn’t taste like anything, I don’t see that this needs to exist. Vaginas do not like anything sugary in them, which all flavored lubes are by nature. For health reasons it’s extremely Inadvisable to eat out butts without protection. If you must use flavored lube on a vagina haver try to focus it on the clit and not internally.
Condoms:
Condoms come pre-lubricated but did you know: Most condom tearing is the result of insufficient lube inside the condom? For safer sex put a few extra drops of lube inside the condom to increase sensation and decrease risk of tearing
Don’t store them in your wallet. Your body heat will break down the condom much quicker than storing in a drawer. If you’re going to carry one grab it fresh for a date.
Condoms stretch but they need to be tight at the base. Tight however doesn’t meet cutting off circulation. That’s a cock ring. If you need to wear condoms I recommend trying a few singles to see what brand feels the best for your body.
There are lambskin condoms but I don’t recommend them at all. They cannot be tested for tears, they still transmit STIs and they feel like wax paper. Polyisoprene is better in virtually every way for those with allergies.
Most people suffer from low grade latex allergies making a lot of condoms unpleasant. Latex was the first material able to be tested for structural integrity (they run a small electrical charge through it to test for breakages, neat right?). However! A new material hit the market called polyisoprene. It passes all the same safety regulations as latex while being hypoallergenic and contains much lower odor which brings me to…
Favorite Brand: Skyns. These condoms are truly excellent, smell and taste of nothing, and are just as safe as latex! The best. Really.
Anal:
Do not just stick a dick in a butt. Anal is about patience and many people have an awful first time. I cannot count the number of men who came in to ask, “How do I convince my girlfriend to do anal?” No. Start small, little plugs or fingers, and work your way up. Make sure things are relaxed and very very very like so very lubricated.
Do not. Ever. Numb your ass. Many products try to sell you on numbing your butt for anal. This is how emergency room trips happen. You need to listen to your butt, numbing it is how tearing happens.
Don’t rip out anal beads. I feel like it should be clear why ripping anything out of your body like you’re trying to start a chainsaw is a mistake but it bears repeating.
Butts. Will. Consume. Do not ever insert anything into your ass that doesn’t have a flared base. A flared base should have a perpendicular width of two inches to be safe. Don’t end up an ER horror story.
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can u do a fic where Australian r joins arsenal after playing with the tillies and moves in with Caitlin and Kyra while Steph lives next door. Just a lot of fluff I guess and maybe a bit of home sickness for r
Parenting 101
A/N: sorry I’ve been inactive, I’m back at school and arguing with my counselor to take me out of my trig/precal class because I’m suffering in it😭
Words: 1,249
Basically the Australian Arsenal girlies x Aussie reader
Moving to play for Arsenal from Australia was something that was not on your to-do list. You were barely an adult; just turning 18.
After showing off a bit during the World Cup, you got an opportunity to play for one of the best teams, and you took it. Mostly because Caitlin and Steph were able to convince you. Caitlin took you in because no one could trust you on your own.
Kyra joining was the cherry on top. For you at least. Not for Caitlin; you and Kyra were partners in crime. Going around and pranking everyone, clinging to Mini or Steph, and babysitting Harper together (with supervision).
Now she was a single mother, having to raise two toddlers. The only problem Steph had was the fact that you and Kyra loved to break into her home to eat all her food. She always regretted giving you a spare key.
————
Moving in with Caitlin and Kyra was chaotic. Katie would sometimes come over, so they always took over the living room while you and Kyra would either go bother Lessi or Steph.
It was chaos. From stealing each other's clothes to arguing over the fact that your clothes were being stolen. Then arguing over eating each other's left-overs, to the point where you guys had to start labeling your leftover food.
————
Something that annoyed Caitlin was yours and Kyra's dumb fights. They went on for hours, you two ignoring each other over a FIFA game or not being able to agree on a show or movie you want to watch together, then it would turn into a whole wrestling match and the winner got TV privilege.
The last wrestling match, your back hit the corner of Kyra's dresser, which sent you to the floor crying in pain. You decided it was time to retire from your wrestling career.
Kyra thought you were being dramatic, but you had a huge bruise to prove that you weren't. Even Steph thought you were being dramatic since you went crying to her house, but when she saw the bruise, she was speechless.
"How does that even happen" she said to herself, adding an ice pack to your bruise. "The worst part about this is Kyra gets a week of TV privilege; our number 1 rule is if you go crying to Steph, you're the biggest loser." You cried more.
Steph rolled her eyes. "I don't know how Caitlin puts up with this." "She's always at Katie's." You stared down her candy bowl and looked at her, silently asking for permission. She nodded, and you automatically grabbed it and started stuffing your face with candy.
When the pain went away and Steph put cream on it, you wanted to show off your cool bruise to everyone. You made Kyra take a picture of it and posted it to your story.
————
"Ay, let me see that bruise." Katie grinned at you as she entered the house, completely ignoring Caitlin's hug.
You showed her, and she decided to touch it. "Ay!" You yelled, pushing her. "Now that's a battle scar," Caitlin rolled her eyes at Katie's comment.
"I did it," Kyra said proudly, stuffing her face into the snacks Caitlin had out. "She's very proud of it." You muttered, Kyra took all the credit for your bruise after you posted your story.
————
"What are you doing during the break?" You asked Katie, "Visiting Caitlin's family." You hummed at that; you hadn't even thought about visiting your family.
They were disappointed when you left; your mom had even caused a whole argument when they were driving you to the airport about you basically abandoning them, and you were scared they would throw you out if you stepped a foot back into their house.
The girls noticed how silent you got after that. You stayed in your one little world, only speaking whenever they spoke to you. Not even Kyra letting you pick the movie cheered you up.
————
When Caitlin got back inside from walking Katie to her car, she stood in front of you, wanting to know what was wrong. She got more worried when she saw the tears in your eyes.
"Kyra, what did you do to her now?" Caitlin put her hands on her hips and looked at Kyra.
"I didn't do anything," Kyra defended, taking a bite of her food. They watched you for a couple more minutes; you just continued to pick at your food and focused on the TV.
They looked at each other worried, and Caitlin instructed Kyra to go get Steph, who was way better at this comforting thing.
"You okay kiddo?" Caitlin asked, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You nodded, refusing to look at her.
"Are you sure? Don't make me tickle the information out of you," she threatened, grinning as she saw you holding back a smile.
"I'm sure." Caitlin quickly pinned you down on the couch, starting to tickle your sides a bit, making you shriek and try to fight your way out of it.
"I miss Australia," you blurted out when she started tickling your neck. That was your weak spot. Caitlin let out a small 'oh'. "Why don't you go back? It'll be good to visit your family." That was the breaking point.
You started crying, Caitlin froze, not knowing what to do or say.
"Hey, don't cry," she tried, but that just made you cry harder. Caitlin pulled you into a hug, hoping Steph would get here soon.
————
"Where's the child?" Steph announced as she rushed inside. "Steph," you called out, reaching for her.
"It's okay kiddo," she comforted, pulling you into her lap and rubbing your back. She looked to Caitlin for an explanation.
"She said she misses Australia." "Told you it wasn't me this time," Kyra said, crossing her arms, still mad Caitlin accused her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Steph asked you, "I miss my parents, but they're mad I left, and I'm scared they'll disown me if I show up again." They all frowned at that.
"Duckling, have you tried calling them?" Steph asked, you rolled your eyes at that nickname. Macca and Alanna loved to call you that since you loved to choose who you wanted to follow on a specific day.
"They've tried calling me, but I'm scared to answer." Caitlin grabbed your phone and handed it to you.
"Talk to them; if you keep avoiding this, it's going to get worse." You took the phone from Caitlin and nodded as you gained confidence. You quickly went outside to call your parents, hoping they would answer.
————
You came back in with a smile. "I'm going home," you said happily, making the girls smile. Kyra tackled you into a hug and cheered.
"This calls for a cheat day," she said as she started thinking about what to get. "Our cheat day was yesterday," Caitlin pointed out.
"I want nuggets," you told them. "Fine, two cheat days; we just can't let this get out to Leah, got it?" She looked at you and Kyra. You both nodded, and Kyra started showing you some places.
Steph took the three of you to the place you and Kyra agreed on, and with the way she kept scolding you and Kyra inside for 'bad manners' everyone watching thought you were her children, and Caitlin was just there for emotional support.
You loved your two guardians, and sometimes you loved Kyra as well.
#woso x reader#woso#woso fanfics#arsenal wfc x reader#steph catley#kyra cooney cross#caitlin foord#katie mccabe
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TITLE: Stray Kids and Kinks
SUMMARY: Stray Kids members and each of their kinks (in my personal opinion). They’d most likely have more than one as well.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: smut, discussions around sex, breath play, choking, public sex, slight voyeurism, begging, pictophilia, degradation, use of the names ‘slut’, ‘whore’, ‘fucktoy’, ‘cumslut’, collars, cuckolding, bondage/shibari.
MASTERLIST
A/N: to the people who were on my main taglist for my works, I’m so sorry because I’ve lost the list I had with everyone’s names on it. I’ll keep trying to search through my documents for them just in case. If I can’t, please message me if you still want to be added, no pressure!
BANG CHAN - Breath play
He’s adopted breath play techniques to help intensify your orgasms. For example, he’ll have a hand around your throat, squeezing at the sides as you’re about to cum. Then, just as you do, he’ll take his hand away so that more oxygen rushes to your brain as you orgasm hard around his dick. Seeing you cum your brains out from it only made him want to do it more.
But it just so happens that Chan also likes to be choked. He folds whenever you’re on top riding him and you extend a hand down his throat to squeeze. As a result, he’s bound to cum inside you without question. Or maybe when you’re both making out, Chan likes to feel your hand apply that snug restriction around the sides of his neck.
MINHO - Public Sex
Public sex is a staple aspect of bringing spontaneity into your relationship with Minho and it’s a major turn on for him. Whenever you’re both on the go, there’s always a time where he’s horny. Fucking in a club was the first time either of you had done anything in public - and you’re sure that someone was in one of the stalls watching through the gap in the door of Minho bending you over the sink.
Now, his horizons have expanded to fucking you in a tent when you both go camping, fucking in a room at some pension when you and the other guys go away for a holiday, giving him head underneath the table at a overly crowded restaurant, fucking you against a brick wall down some alleyway as you’re both walking back home because neither of you could wait. The possibilities are endless for him, and so far you haven’t been caught.
CHANGBIN - Begging
Changbin’s ego inflates whenever you beg him to do something in the bedroom. It not only means that you need him to do whatever it is, but that there’s nobody else in the world who can satisfy you other than him. He just thrives off of it. Begging him to let you cum is his ultimate weak point, but not as much as when you beg him to eat you out.
You could both be fifteen minutes into making out, touching each other, and he would deliberately refrain from doing anything further until he hears you pleading for him to go down on you. Only when he says ‘yes’, he’ll eat you out slowly and delicately, right to the point where you get frustrated and have to beg him again. This time to make you cum.
HYUNJIN - Pictophilia
Has countless polaroids, pictures, and videos of yours and his naked body. Will take photos of you from behind, you with his cum on your tits or face, videos of his dick visibly disappearing inside your pussy and sliding back out, videos of him making you orgasm that you can see your legs shake in the frame. He likes revisiting those memories and then creating more to see later on.
Sometimes you’ll watch them back together, that’s if Hyunjin doesn’t get all shy about it. He likes watching you, just not himself so much. In the moment, when he’s fucking your brains out, he can be an animal and say ‘how good your pussy feels’, tell you how much ‘you’re creaming around him’. But the minute you both watch it over together, he gets embarrassed hearing himself say those things to you on camera. 
HAN - Degradation
At first you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to call Jisung such degrading names when he asked you to. It wasn’t until you really tried and saw how much he enjoyed it. His eyes glass over like he’s suddenly under your control, which he is. Calling him names like ‘whore’, ‘slut’, or ‘fucktoy’ is guaranteed to make him cum even harder.
Pairing that with any type of overstimulation or orgasm control gives you a very needy Jisung who’s brain turns into mush just from hearing those sorts of names. He isn’t too sure why or how degradation works so well for him, how it makes his orgasms feel ten times more stronger than just normal verbal communication during sex. That being said, Jisung, like you’ve told him many times, is a ‘cumslut’ who enjoys just orgasming. So much that if degradation helps him get there, then he’s all for it.
FELIX - Collar Kink
Each collar is carefully selected by him for you to wear. He cares and stores them the way that he does with his keyboards. His favourites are the ones with metal rings or heart shaped loops at the front so that he can hook his finger in it and bring you closer to whatever it is he’s doing. They’re very personal statements that he takes pride in not only collecting but also creating as well.
Felix customises and curates them especially for you. He selects the leathers from black to pale pinks to deep reds. Some will have studs or multiple metal loops, others will be classic and plain. The point of the matter is that Felix swells inside with excitement every time he gets to fasten or buckle the collar around your neck.
SEUNGMIN - Cuckolding
This man has a kink for essentially watching you get railed by another man - maybe two sometimes. He doesn’t strike as the type of person to share you, but he compromises when his fantasies come into focus. When he presented you with this peculiar idea to see you have sex with someone other than himself, you were all in it. To test things out, he thought it would be best to invite someone you both know. Someone who would be into the same idea.
That person ended up being Jisung who was a perfect fit for the night and it’s never been awkward since. These types of experiences make having sex with Seungmin even more special and intimate when it’s just the two of you. There’s not another man who makes you cum the way he does - none of the men he’s watched you have sex with.
Jeongin - Bondage
Jeongin enjoys tying you up, but especially in shibari. An intricate practice of bondage that passes off more as art than something sexual. He’s perfected the craft of skilfully binding your body to create beautiful ties and wraps. His slender and long fingers help with threading multiple lengths of ropes into different loops at the same time. In some cases, shibari is just for people to look at and doesn’t involve sex.
Almost similar to BDSM in some cases. But Jeongin will fuck you in it. There’s a side to him that can be very irrational and heated. The way the rope tightens around your body or the way the patterns contrast with your skin, makes him impulsive. He will involve other sexual practices like BDSM, maybe sensation play, edging, orgasm denying - anything to see you struggle against the rope.
#rosiewritesskz#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know smut#han jisung smut#bang chan smut#felix smut#hyunjin smut#changbin smut#i.n smut
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OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!
Fight
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them.
Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other
Word count: 4.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877
Fight
Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine.
You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.
Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast.
“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”
You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.
“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”
You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“
Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”
“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”
“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments.
“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not.
“Then what is the point?”
With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“
You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”
There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment.
“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”
“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.
Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him.
Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”
Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.
But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”
Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”
Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward.
Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”
“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”
“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced.
From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.
“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”
“What about breakfast?” He asks.
“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.
When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches.
You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”
You can feel your bottom lip tremble.
Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you.
You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?”
*
The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word.
During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”
Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”
“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back.
“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”
Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”
You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more.
Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams.
“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for.
Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”
He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.
“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”
“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan.
“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.”
“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him.
“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.
It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head.
Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day.
“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor.
You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear.
Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel.
He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.
“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place.
Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”
You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you.
“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”
He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical.
Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you.
“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.
“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”
You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous.
His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips.
“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”
“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly.
“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”
“Definitely not in pain.”
Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch.
“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel.
The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.
The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan.
“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”
You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body.
“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”
Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over.
It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard.
“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants.
“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.
Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim.
And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut.
You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release.
“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”
“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth.
“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.
“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss.
“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”
“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.”
Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.”
He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.
“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.
“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies.
“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly.
The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.
Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.
.
.
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TAGLIST WILL NOT CONTINUE FROM NEXT MONTH (September 1st, 2023). FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
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#pedro pascal characters#javier pena x you#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena smut#javi pena#javier pena one shot#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#narcos#narcos fanfiction#husband!javi#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#my writing
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Hi!
So, tumblr did a thing! I saw your post that said your requests are open, and the very next post on my dash was a list of prompts and one really stood out to me!
"Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating."
May I request that with Soap/Ghost/Gaz (tho let's be real, it's perfectly believable that Gaz can pull anyone!)
Thank you! 😊
hi !! thank you for your request, i love this idea so much and i hope you enjoy!!
Ghost: When you and Ghost first started dating, you kept it to yourselves wanting to savor your relationship just for the two of you. However after a while, Ghost decided to tell his teammates about you, He started by talking about you to them saying things like “Yeah the missus dragged me out to this restaurant the other day.” and things like that, his fellow teammates would look at him like he was crazy, but would still indulge his conversation thinking he might just be lonely or trying to prove he can have a relationship. Ghost then started sharing pictures of you, whether it be pictures he took of you on dates or just funny ones around the house. This made the team even more confused about the whole situation as they like to call it, they wondered how he found so many pictures of someone online and why was he showing them off like you were actually with him, had he finally gone mad? One day Soap finally spoke up when he was again showing off pictures you had sent him while he was deployed, “L.T, we all know you’re not dating them. Who is that?” before Ghost had time to respond Gaz chimed in saying “Yeah Ghost, you started to freak us out.”Ghost let out a low chuckle before saying “I promise you they are actually with me, I’ll be the first to admit it’s shocking they out of all people chose me but they did.” Soap and Gaz brushed him off still not believing a word he said, that was until one day you came to the base because Ghost had left something he needed at your shared home. You walked into the room seeing Soap and Gaz shooting them a smile before saying “Hi, Have you guys seen Simon anywhere? Or I guess Ghost to you sorry.” They both stood there eyes wide and mouths agape, they pointed you in the direction of Ghost to which you thanked them and went to go find him, from that day forward they never said anything when Ghost would share things about you.
Soap: From the moment you both started dating, Soap immediately started telling everyone he knew about you, he loved showing you off. The only problem was you were gorgeous and seemed like a well-rounded person which didn’t seem like anyone Soap could pull, So when he started telling his teammates about you, they congratulated him and didn’t mind having conversations about you, and then he started showing pictures of you. That’s when the suspension started, nobody would ever believe someone like you would be with someone like him. One day Gaz had enough of listening to him ramble on about some random person that Soap claimed he was in a “relationship” with, “Jeez Soap stop rambling about your imaginary partner, everyone knows you lying about it.” Soap was stunned before saying “Imaginary? What in the bloody hell do you mean imaginary I’ve been with them for months for Christ's sake” He looked towards Ghost before adding “C'mon L.T. you don’t think I’m lying do ya?” Soap fully expected Ghost to call Gaz crazy and say Soap one hundred percent wasn’t lying but boy was he wrong “I do think it’s a little suspicious Johnny, from what you’ve shown me and told me, It’s hard to believe” Gaz smirked at Soap while he was in utter shock, “Just wait ya pricks, I’ll let you met them one day and when I do, it’ll shut you up real fucking fast.” Ghost and Gaz snickered while just saying “Whatever you say, Johnny”. About a month later, Johnny had the opportunity to bring you to the pub as your schedule was free. When you walked in heading over to Soap kissing him before sitting down, You introduced yourself to his fellow teammates shaking their hands while saying “Hi, I’m Y/n, I’m Johnny’s Partner nice to meet you all.” They all stood there in shock.
Gaz: Gaz and you had started dating a while back, he never really thought to mention you to his team, until one day Price was asking him about going out to the Pub on the incoming Friday with him and the rest of the squadron, Gaz quickly declined to say “Sorry Cap, I’ve got a date with the Missus that day.” Soap quickly laughed before saying “Yeah right more like you’ve got a date with your right hand, mate.” Everyone around him let out a laugh before Gaz interrupted them “Fuck off, For your information I do have a partner ya twats.” they all kept making fun of him and calling him a liar he sighed walking out of the room shaking his head, oh would he show them. The following week he had brought you to a restaurant for a date, it just so happened that his teammates were dining at the same place. You both walked in sitting down as he pulled out your chair for you, his task force immediately saw the both of you a couple of tables away, they were in utter shock, to say the least. After the both of you had finished your dinner and you were walking out, Gaz felt their eyes on the two of you so as he had his hand around your back he used his other to flip them off as you both left, before walking the both of you to his car, His teammates didn’t expect that, any of that.
well I hoped you enjoyed this !! it was a lot of fun to write and thank you again for your request and as always any feedback is appreciated !!
luv, luvver
#cod#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mw3#cod mwii#luvverslair#call of duty#fanfic#gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz cod#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap#soap x reader#soap cod#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap call of duty#soap x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost#call of duty fanfic#simon riley x reader
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears
Plot: Joel, Y/n, Henry, Sam and Ellie make their way out of the tunnel system, but Kansas City refuses to let them leave.
Word Count: 9.4k
Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, implied s*ut, language, canon-typical violence, knives, blood, death, loss of a child, s*icide, (16+)
A/N: Oh, we’re really in it, y’all. This is the last chapter in which you get any sense of happiness, so hold it close to your heart. It all really goes to shit after this…
As always, and I really need people to read this, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless their age is listed in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀
Good night, and good luck, my loves ❤️
———————
May 27th, 2003. Austin, Texas.
The referee’s whistle rang through the air, signaling the play was starting. Sarah had the ball, her team was one goal away from winning the season. If she nailed the shot, she’d bring them to victory.
Now, on his own, Joel was one of the loudest and proudest parents at the games. Adding in Tommy and Y/n had made them their own cheer section.
“Go, Sarah!” Y/n yelled.
“C’mon, babygirl,” Joel clapped, “C’mon.”
“Fuckin’ nail it,” Tommy cheered, earning a light knock to the chest from Y/n, “Frickin’ nail it!”
Sarah wasn’t listening to any of them, she was in the zone. She wound her leg back and kicked the ball, it flew through the air and straight through the goalie’s arms.
Y/n screamed and leapt into Joel’s arms, the whole crowd cheered wildly. Joel spun her around, this felt like a victory for all of them considering how much time they’d spent practicing with Sarah.
After celebrating with her team and taking their yearly photo, Sarah bounded over to her family.
Joel picked his daughter up, not caring if he was embarassing her. Sarah hugged him back.
“You were amazing,” he said, setting her back on the grass.
“You’re so freakin’ good, it hurts,” Y/n grinned, wrapping Sarah in her arms.
“Thanks,” the girl smiled up at Y/n.
Tommy high fived his niece, “Calls for a celebration.”
The four of them drove downtown to the ice cream shop. They parked themselves outside at a table in the shade. In celebration of Sarah’s impending graduation, her recent birthday and Y/n and Joel’s one year anniversary, they were driving down to the beach for a weekend.
“Okay,” Joel said in between bites, “I’ve got the confirmation for the hotel printed out.”
“I’m going to the store tomorrow to pick up the food,” Y/n raised her spoon.
Sarah hummed enthusiastically, swallowing her dessert quickly. “Can you pick me up when you do?”
“Yes,” Y/n nodded, “But you can’t run me into debt.”
“Can I come?” Tommy asked through a mouthful of ice cream.
“You will run me into debt,” Y/n replied with a smile.
Tommy reached into his wallet, theatrically handing Y/n a twenty dollar bill. “Beer money,” he clarified.
“Thank you,” Y/n replied, stuffing the money into her jean pocket, “What time are we leaving on Thursday?”
“I figure 9,” Joel answered, “Try and beat the traffic.”
Practical as he was, Joel was also plain excited. This was the first family vacation Y/n was joining them for.
“We’re leavin’ on a Thursday mornin’,” Tommy interjected, “There’s not gonna be any traffic.”
Joel peeked across the table to Y/n, who met his eyes with an equal level of contained enthusiasm. Celebrating one year of her in his life didn’t warrant waiting a single minute longer than necessary.
“Won’t hurt anybody,” Joel responded, shooting his girlfriend a wink.
————————
Come Thursday, the Millers and guest loaded their bags and coolers into Joel’s truck.
“Sarah?” Y/n called from the bottom of the stairs, they were nearly ready to leave and she was still upstairs, “We gotta go, babe.”
“Coming,” she yelled down, skipping out of her room and down the stairs, carrying something in her hand.
“Whatcha got?” Y/n pointed to the small package.
Sarah waved it nonchalantly in the air, “It’s an anniversary present. For you and Dad.”
Y/n’s heart swelled, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, I did,” she gave a small smile, before scrunching up her face, “Just please don’t make out the entire trip.”
Snorting, Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck and walked the two of them out of the house.
Joel and Tommy had just finished their thirty minute game of Tetris with the luggage. There were so many bags for only four days and four people.
“No,” Tommy called out, spotting Sarah’s present, “Not one more fuckin’ thing comes into this truck.”
“It’s a carry-on,” Y/n shouted back with a smile, patting Sarah’s arm after, “Be there in a minute.”
Sarah skipped off to the backseat, passing her dad as she did. Joel ruffled her hair before locking eyes with Y/n across the driveway. She looked so natural, standing on his porch with his daughter in her arms, locking up the front door with her spare key. She’d settled into the family so well.
“See somethin’ you like?” Y/n smiled, sticking her nose up in the air and letting the sun hit her.
“Somethin’ I love,” Joel replied, walking slowly towards her. He encircled her waist with one arm, his other hand holding her hip.
Y/n let her hands slide up Joel’s chest, “Your daughter has requested a vow of celibacy from us this weekend.”
Joel chortled, “That’s ‘cause one day she woke up and decided us lookin’ at each other was disgusting.”
“Well, then,” Y/n got on he tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Joel’s nose, “Save it for the evenings.”
Joel nuzzled his nose against her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin and the promise of her words.
“What happened to beatin’ traffic?” Tommy teased from the passenger seat.
Rolling his eyes, Joel turned around to his brother and glared at him. Tommy just smirked and tapped his foot against the dashboard.
“Come on,” Y/n intertwined her fingers with Joel’s, pulling him behind her and marching them both to the truck.
“Seatbelts,” Joel ordered as he got in the front seat.
Y/n settled herself in the backseat next to Sarah, who absentmindedly grabbed her hand and started playing with it. Of all the milestones her and Joel had hit in the past year, Sarah’s casual comfort with her was Y/n’s proudest.
“Alright, gang,” Joel started up the car and backed it out of the driveway, “6 hour drive, settle in.”
Y/n and Sarah cheered from the backseat and Joel swore he could feel a physical warmth spread across his chest.
—————————
It took them all day to get to South Padre Island, having stopped for bathroom breaks and lunch on the way, but they made it in one piece.
Their hotel was modest and one of many on the strip that backed straight up to the beach. The view from the balcony was unmatched, nothing but sand and ocean as far as the eye could see.
Their first full day there, they spent all day on the beach. It was early enough in the year that the full force of summer’s heat hadn’t hit yet. Joel stayed with their cooler, messing around on the guitar he’d brought in a beach chair. Tommy switched between relaxing in the shade with a beer and flirting with whatever lucky woman was in their vicinity. Sarah and Y/n walked the shore, searching for seashells.
Leaving Sarah to keep hunting, Y/n walked back to their spot, admiring the sight before her. Joel looked more at ease than she’d ever seen him, strumming away in the cool shade.
“You’re ogling me’,” he said, trying to sound put off.
“You look happy,” Y/n smiled, pushing past the humor.
Joel peeked up over his sunglasses, taking in the wind blowing through her hair and how the sun shone off her skin. “I am happy,” he replied.
Y/n walked around the back of his chair, bending over to encircle his neck. Joel kept on playing, trying to stay focused as she pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.
Looking out on the beach, Y/n’s eyes found Tommy, buying some girl an ice cream at a vendor’s cart. She watched Sarah, crouched down in the sand and hot on the trail of a particular shell. With Joel in her arms, and her chosen family happy, she felt like everything in her world was just as it should be.
Y/n rested her chin on Joel’s shoulder, “Me too.”
—————————
They’d celebrated both Sarah’s graduation and Y/n’s anniversary on Saturday night with dinner on the beach. There’d been good food and good laughter, especially when Sarah tried oysters for the first time, managing to swallow the bite with a grimace.
When gifts were exchanged, Y/n, Joel and Tommy had compiled their money to get Sarah tickets to see her favorite band. She’d leapt out of her chair and bear hugged all three of them. For Joel and Y/n’s anniversary, she handed them a CD she’d burned a playlist to. Songs she’d heard them listen to or that the three of them had sung together in the car or while Joel played guitar.
Deep into the evening, when Tommy and Sarah had retired to their room across the hall, Joel and Y/n celebrated their anniversary privately.
Joel’s body weight Y/n’s down, pinning her hands above her head and pressing soft kisses across her face. At some point in the night, she’d slipped on his t-shirt. He was convinced that if there was a heaven on earth, he was in it.
“Promise me something,” Y/n breathed, her lips brushing Joel’s cheekbone.
Joel rubbed his nose against Y/n’s, “Anything.”
Pressed into the bed, completely consumed by the man she loved, with a soft ocean breeze flooding through their balcony window, Y/n was in utter bliss. There was nothing that could have made the moment more perfect.
“Promise me it’ll always be like this,” Y/n whispered, her urging eyes boring into Joel’s, “Even when it isn’t.”
Joel’s grip on Y/n’s hands loosened, letting her slip out of his hold with a need to feel her arms around him. Neither of them were under any illusion that life was without its problems, they’d run into them eventually. But through it all, Joel knew that the one thing that would never fade was their complete and utter devotion to one another. That was forever.
Joel brushed away a strand of hair stuck to Y/n’s face from the ocean’s humidity. He ran the tips of his fingers along her cheek, down her neck, tracing the path his lips had traveled moments ago.
“Always,” he promised, his voice soft, but determined.
The room’s energy was emotionally charged, bringing tears to Y/n’s eyes as she gazed up at Joel. He looked so beautiful hanging over her, it nearly broke her heart. She was so overcome with love for this man, she truly didn’t know if she could handle any more. Joel overwhelmed her in the sweetest way possible.
The moonlight reflected off a single teardrop that slipped down Y/n’s cheek. Joel adjusted himself in concern, taking her face into his hand, “What’s wrong?”
Y/n smiled, she’d never known one could be moved to tears by the simple act of adoring someone. “I just love you,” she pushed past the lump in her throat.
Joel’s breath caught in his chest. Even though he’d heard her say those words a hundred times, something about this utterance felt new.
He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tear’s streak. They lay intwined, coming alive in one another’s eyes. They’d known for months, really since their first kiss, that they’d be together a long, long time…but there, in a beachside hotel, wrapped in lily white sheets and each other, they knew they could never leave one another.
Joel dove back into Y/n’s lips, his hands slipping under his shirt she wore to hold her hips. He prayed that when the day came for him to die, he’d do so in her arms, her kiss stealing his final breath.
—————————
2023. Kansas City, Missouri.
While the tensions were high the whole way, the five survivors made it through the tunnel system with no issues.
“Do you know where we are?” Joel asked Henry as they made their way through a door. He was still suspicious, nothing was ever as simple as a few tunnels and some luck.
“Yeah,” he answered, “The other side.”
Henry shone his flashlight on a dirty sign stating that it was, indeed, the parking lot to the Bank of America building. They’d made it out. Y/n huffed a sigh of relief, it was a much needed win.
The group headed for the street of the residential area, it was dark and empty allowing them the perfect cover. Joel had still insisted on no flashlights, just to be safe.
Joel led the group, with Ellie, Sam and Henry at the rear, and Y/n sandwiched between. She didn’t particularly feel like being near Joel after the conversation with Henry. She was still trying to shake the memories from her brain, twenty years of wasted energy and not a single one had faded.
Joel didn’t quite know what to do either. He felt at war with himself, a poorly docked ship being drawn out to the open waters against its will. It was getting harder to deny the increasing intensity of his pull to her. Not that it mattered, he still considered her a liar and she hated him with a passion that would never die. But seeing her with the kids, showing the humanity still left in her, had left him unsettled. It was like seeing a home he could never go back to.
“No,” Henry said, having just been signing with Sam, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because…my plan worked.
“So much damn talkin’,” Joel remarked from the front of the group.
“I’m just saying,” Henry continued, “I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house…and we’re out.”
Y/n and Joel wanted to believe that they were home free, but they’d seen more of the current world than anyone else in the party. Things that seemed too good to be true, almost always were.
“So we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asked, “Where ya gonna go?”
“Don’t know yet,” Henry shrugged.
“Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming,” Ellie announced.
Joel glared back at her, earning a light hit to the arm from Y/n, who glared right back at him.
“What?” Ellie replied, “It’s a huge state, it can fit two more people.”
“Yeah,” Henry stretched the syllable, not any more keen on the idea than Joel, “Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.”
Y/n drifted to walk alongside Joel, his stubbornness breathing a little bit of life back into her. “If you’ve got any happy pills left in your pocket,” she muttered low enough for only them to hear, “I suggest you take them.”
Joel shook his head, glancing out the side of his eyes at her. He couldn’t decide if her silence or her snark was preferable.
“No, he’ll change his mind,” Ellie said to Henry, “Trust me. This is how it goes, he’s like,” she dropped her voice and added a twinge of an accent, “‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.”
Y/n couldn’t stop the snort before it escaped her, it physically jerked her body forward. When she looked up, Joel’s hardened stare was resting on her.
“That supposed to be funny?”
“It’s hilarious,” Y/n smiled, still trying to contain her laughter, “And you know it.”
“And then I’m like,” Ellie continued, “‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like-“
A gunshot flew past them, killing only the levity.
Joel and Y/n ran for Ellie at the same time, colliding with one another in a heap of arms.
“Move! Move!” Joel ordered, shoving both of them forward, “Go!”
The five of them dove for cover behind an abandoned car, crouching on the asphalt.
“Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asked, shielding Sam with his body.
“Shut up,” Joel ordered, peeking his head above the trunk of the car to scan the area. As soon as he was semi-visible, another gunshot hit one of the nearby vehicles.
Henry tried to get a look at the house where the fire seemed to be coming from, earning another close call.
“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing Sam’s hand, “Let’s move. Let’s go.”
“Henry!” Y/n shouted through her teeth.
“What are you doin’?” Joel yelled, not budging.
“Getting the fuck outta here,” Henry called back, barely making it to the other side of the road before another shot blew past them. He rushed him and Sam back to the first car, “What do we do?”
Y/n and Joel’s brains were working overtime, trying to figure out the best possible course of action. Joel, closest to the house he guessed the gunman was inside, peeked out once more and got another near fatal shot. He was right.
“All right,” Joel breathed, “Stay here.”
“What?” Y/n and Ellie exclaimed in unison.
Joel turned to them, addressing Ellie but drifting his eyes to Y/n at the end of each sentence. “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.”
“No,” Y/n blurted out, “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you,” Ellie agreed.
“It’s dark and he has shit aim,” Joel countered, “Nobody’s gonna kill me.”
“Then he’s gonna kill us,” Ellie replied.
Joel’s eyes flicked between the kid and the woman behind her. He addressed Ellie first, “Do you trust me?”
Hesitating, but eventually rolling her eyes and nodding, Ellie answered.
Joel looked up to Y/n, silently begging her to listen to him. He’d trusted her when Ellie had revealed her immunity, now he needed her to do the same.
Y/n wanted to be unreasonable and illogical, to stew in her anger a little longer. But Joel hadn’t failed them yet on their journey, this wasn’t the place to start.
“You go around the left,” Y/n countered, “I’ll create a diversion so he won’t see you coming.”
“You stay here,” Joel replied, his voice turning to steel.
It was the first time that Y/n didn’t want to argue. She withdrew her pistol from her holster, “I wasn’t asking.”
Joel was busting his ass trying to make sure she was safe and she was throwing herself into open fire to protect him. He felt sick to his stomach.
Y/n took Joel’s reluctant nod and mirrored it, hoping she looked more confidant than she felt. They both brushed a hand against Ellie’s arm, who was terrified to let the only two people she cared about run headfirst into danger.
Joel and Y/n crossed past one another, he grabbed her arm to stop her. The pain-stricken worry in both their eyes communicated all that they couldn’t out loud.
They took up their positions on either end of the car, cocking their guns and drawing a deep breath. Joel nodded to Y/n, signaling for her to move.
Y/n jumped out from the car and ran for the one directly across from her. A gunshot kissed the air behind her, she slid into the asphalt behind the vehicle like it was third base. She could feel the fear creeping up her spine, threatening to break her, but breaking wasn’t an option. Tess’ last wish rang in her ears; keep Joel safe.
Spotting the next car, in the row, she made a beeline for it, dodging two shots on each side of her. She kneeled behind the trunk, peeking out just enough to fire a distracting shot towards the house.
“C’mon, Joel,” she whispered.
Joel was making his way down the street, Y/n serving as the most perfect and unwelcome distraction. Every shot sent a cold shot of panic through him, terrified that the gunman was going to be too quick for her. Just before making it behind the house, he snuck a look over his shoulder and caught her racing across the street, dodging more fire. It urged him to move faster.
Y/n was getting closer and closer to the house, praying that Joel had made it. When she made a clean run to the next car, she assumed that he’d put a stop to the fight. A final shot rang out, but it had come from a different gun. Joel’s gun.
Y/n slumped against the car and exhaled, he was safe.
Joel felt grief pass over him, a drop of it trickling down his throat, as he grabbed the old man’s rifle. He was about to stick his head out the window and signal to Y/n that they were clear, until a sound caught his ear.
“Anthony…Anthony…” a staticky voice called, Joel tracked it beside the old man’s body and found a walkie-talkie, “Anthony, hold them where they are.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, rushing to the window, “Run!”
Y/n stood up, Joel’s voice reassuring her they were in the clear before she registered his words.
“Run!”
Y/n bolted back toward Ellie, Sam and Henry. In the near distance, she could hear the sound of a truck. The same one they’d been dodging for the past day.
“Run!” Joel urged, watching Y/n’s shadow run straight towards the threat.
The truck’s headlights shone down the street, shining right on Y/n. She collided with Ellie, wrenching the girl ahead of her and racing back towards the house. Behind them, the fleet of trucks were beginning to plow through the rows of cars.
Determined, Joel started to fire at the truck’s windows, trying to take out the driver.
Blindly, Ellie and Y/n began to fire their pistols at the main truck after them. Without being able to take proper aim, their attempts failed, but they kept trying.
Ellie’s gun ran out of bullets as the truck began to gain on her. Y/n wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pushing her to go faster. Ellie tripped, bringing Y/n down with her. Y/n enveloped the girl in her arms, putting her body between the truck and Ellie.
At that exact moment, Joel had fired a perfect shot, taking out the driver and causing the truck to crash through the front of a nearby house. He’d bought them mere seconds, a whole fleet of cars were behind them and their passengers were about to surround Ellie and Y/n.
“Come on,” Y/n urged, pulling Ellie to her feet, “Move.”
They’d barely made it two steps before they were thrown to the ground again by a blast. The crash had somehow started a fire and both the vehicle and the house surrounding it were set ablaze.
The smoke filled Y/n’s lungs, restricting her airways and letting dizziness to set in. The only clear thought ringing through her head was Ellie, save Ellie.
Joel watched helplessly as Ellie and Y/n lay on the ground. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, waiting for them to get up. Henry, a godsend in that moment, darted out from behind a car and pulled them both to their feet.
Y/n stumbled back to the car Henry had sought as protection, blindly reaching for Ellie and making herself a barricade once again.
“You okay?” Henry asked them both.
“Yeah,” Ellie muttered, Y/n gave a breathless nod.
Up above the flames, Joel watched a group of rebels walk through the smoke with guns drawn on his window, calling out orders to raid the house. They’d found him.
“Fuck,” he breathed, hiding behind the wall. Unlucky for them, Joel wasn’t so easy to throw in the towel and lose his life.
Below, Kathleen surveyed the damage, strolling casually amongst the flames. “Dead end, Henry,” she called, “Gonna step on out? Save us some time?”
“Is that her?” Y/n whispered, Henry nodded in response.
“No?” Kathleen asked, her tone was eerily even, “That’s all right. Doesn’t matter.”
Henry looked to Sam, who Y/n had an arm around, and knew what he had to do. “I’ll come out,” he replied, “Just let the kids go!”
“No,” Kathleen responded, “Sorry. The girl is with the two who killed Bryan, don’t think I don’t know that the woman’s back there with you too.”
Y/n shut her eyes, the back of her head digging into the car. She knew she’d die eventually, she woke every day faced with the possibility of death. But she wasn’t about to die before she could get Ellie out west.
Joel’s blood ran cold at Kathleen’s words, his hands squeezing the rifle tighter. He had to fight every instinct to fire a bullet straight through her head.
“And Sam” Kathleen continued, “Well, Sam’s with you.”
“You don’t understand,” Henry yelled.
“But I do,” she said calmly, “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”
“He’s just a fucking kid!” Henry called back.
“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time.”
Y/n’s fear turned to shock and that shock turned to rage. Deep, bitter, twenty year old rage.
Joel watched carefully from his spot, feeling the anger swell in him.
“You think the whole world revolves around him?” Kathleen continued her monologue, “That he’s worth everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”
Henry turned to Y/n and Ellie, bracing himself for his own fate. “Get ready to take him, and run,” he instructed.
“No,” Y/n argued, “I’m not-“
“Yes,” he said, his voice like steel, “Do it.”
Y/n gave in, nodding and taking Sam’s hands with Ellie. “You stay in front of me at all time,” she instructed, reaching out for the girl, “If I go down, you don’t turn back.”
Ellie’s eyes widened, “But-“
“You don’t turn back,” Y/n repeated, forcing her voice to sound strong.
“It’s time, Henry,” Kathleen gritted, her soft voice suddenly dripping with venom, “Enough!”
Henry took a few shuddering breaths before getting to his feet, hands raised in the air. Sam anxiously started to go after his brother, but Ellie and Y/n pulled him back to the ground. The three of them sat there, Y/n and Ellie’s pulses racing as they waited for the inevitable sound, their signal to move.
“It ends the way it ends,” Kathleen said, her calm demeanor returning.
Y/n froze as she listened to Kathleen cock her pistol, squeezing Sam’s hand a little tighter.
But the bullet never came.
Instead, there was a terrible creak from the totaled truck. Ellie scrambled to get a peek while staying hidden, Y/n held up a hand to her and poked the tip of her head out. Just enough to see the car sink into the wreckage of the burning house.
Joel aimed his rifle and came to the window, watching it all happen from above.
Three ominous seconds of silence.
And then they came.
Hordes of Infected came sprinting out of the sinkhole.
Henry rushed back to their spot, Y/n and him shoved the kids in between them and sinking against the car as far as they could. One of the Infected leapt on the hood, a well-timed bullet sinking into its skull.
Joel reloaded the gun, waiting for the next shot.
“Come on,” Henry called, the four of them got to their feet and took off in the direction of the embankment.
Ellie obeyed and stayed ahead of Y/n, who was frantically cocking her handgun. One Infected was chasing after them and she couldn’t get her weapon ready in time.
Joel aimed at the creature trailing Y/n and fired. The body lurched forward, falling on Y/n and causing both her and Ellie to topple to the ground.
Somewhere in their fall, Y/n and Ellie had lost sight of Henry and Sam. Y/n kicked the dead body off of them and glanced up towards the house, she knew who was acting as their guardian angel. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a job to do as well.
“Car,” Ellie yelled, having quickly crafted a plan in her head.
“Stay low,” Y/n responded.
The two of them army crawled their way through the chaos, screams of both the living and Infected filling the air.
Joel tracked their movements, shooting down any Infected that even looked in their direction.
Ellie and Y/n ran the final distance and dove into the abandoned car through an open window. As Infected began to crawl across the behicle, banging against the windows, one of Joel’s bullets took each one out.
“Get to the back,” Y/n instructed.
The two of them crawled over the seats, taking shelter in the very rear of the vehicle. Ellie’s eyes were wide with terror as she watched the scene play through the dirty glass.
Joel saw them make it in, but his relief didn’t last long. He watched as one of the Infected snaked through the window and into their car. His breath trembled, taking aim and realizing he couldn’t do a damn thing to help them.
Y/n and Ellie heard the dreadful snarling together, their heads turning to watch the Clicker flip through the front seat of the car. Y/n raised her gun and took aim.
Click.
She was out of bullets.
Joel’s brain switched off, his primal instinct to protect taking over as he fired relentless shot after relentless shot, trying to take the Infected out.
The Clicker acrobatically made its way through the car. Ellie blindly reached for the door handle, whimpering in fear as she couldn’t open it. Y/n kicked it with her boot and it swung out, she shoved Ellie roughly out of the car. Y/n slid out, slamming the door behind them and feeling the slam of the Clicker throwing itself against the window.
Joel had lost visual on them briefly, but saw the swing of the car door and how it was still rocking. They’d trapped it.
Somewhere in the noise, a child’s cry could be heard. Y/n’s eyes darted around them, finally spotting Henry and Sam trying to fend off a group of Infected underneath a car.
“Help! Get the fuck away!“ Henry screamed, kicking at one of the creatures, “Get the fuck off me!”
Ellie looked first to Y/n, who was already pulling out her knife from where she hid it in her boot, before they both looked up to where Joel was. Y/n could barely make out his face with the distance.
Joel looked down, knowing that they couldn’t possibly be making eye contact from so far away, but knowing that they were on the same wavelength.
They had to work as a team.
“Go!” Y/n yelled, and they were off.
Joel shot with more precision than he ever had, this was the most he’d ever had at stake. As Y/n and Ellie moved through the crowd, he took out every Infected that were heading for them. He worked as a machine, but the terror he felt was the most human sensation he’d experienced in years.
Y/n shed her humanity, becoming more beast than woman, mercilessly ripping through the throats of any Infected that came near Ellie. She swung onto one’s back, stabbing her knife into its head, and let the collapse of its body land her back on the ground.
Joel and Y/n worked seamlessly together, ground and aerial coming together to protect the one thing that couldn’t be lost. Or in Joel’s case, two somethings.
Ellie and Y/n finally made it to Sam and Henry, there were two clickers still clawing at them. One dragged Henry out from underneath the car, Ellie got behind it and stabbed it. Y/n wrenched the Clicker attacking Sam backwards, staring into where its eyes would have been as she sliced through its heart.
A bullet whizzed past her head, landing in the monster’s skull. Joel needed to be sure.
“Come on, come on,” Ellie helped their friends to their feet, “Go! Go!”
Y/n shoved Ellie in front of her again and they fled the chaos, climbing into the lawn of the house Joel was in.
“Stop!”
The four of them turned to see Kathleen with her gun aimed at Henry, but her eyes flicking between him and Y/n. They didn’t have time to fear for their lives, they clocked the same Clicker who’d almost gotten her and Ellie creeping up an old piece of furniture behind Kathleen.
Kathleen heard the sound, turning around just as the Clicker shot through the air and latched onto her. They watched in terror as the creature claimed the resistance leader’s life.
Joel hurried out of the house, running faster once he saw Y/n and Ellie. He stopped a second, watching as Kathleen lost everything she’d fought so hard for, but didn’t care so long as his people were safe.
“This way now,” Joel yelled, grabbing Y/n’s arm to urge her forward, “Move!”
The group took off, leaving those who had sought to kill them to their fates. Joel and Y/n ran together, keeping one hand on each other the whole time. Their grudge was suffocating, choking under the weight of their undeniable devotion to one another.
————————————
The motel the group landed was a haven to their weary eyes. They broke into one of the rooms and tried to get it through their heads that they were safe. Joel had made sure that no one followed them, they were miles away from any Infected. They could breathe.
Once Ellie and Sam had been squared away with food, they went into the bedroom and began reading Ellie’s collection of comic books. They were either bouncing back spectacularly fast or burying their fear.
Henry, Joel and Y/n sat out in the main room, trying to come down from what they’d just been through. Since fleeing the hellish nightmare, Joel and Y/n hadn’t left each other’s side. She hadn’t even bothered with putting space between them when she sunk down onto the floor. They were pressed against one another and neither of them minded.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asked, picking at a bit of his food and watching his brother from the next room.
Y/n’s eyes drifted to Ellie, she was growing more and more worried about the girl’s psyche. She’d seen so much in such a short span of time.
“Yeah, I think,” Joel answered, “It’s easier when you’re a kid, anyway,” he met Henry’s stare with intention, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”
“Well,” Henry looked down at his food, “I guess we’re doin’ a good job then.”
Y/n and Joel both looked to the kids, Ellie was helping Sam to read one of the pages.
“What’s that comic book say?” Joel asked, “‘Endure and survive?’”
“Endure and survive,” Y/n repeated.
Henry chuckled, “That shit’s redundant.”
Joel shook his head, this was as close as he’d come to laughing with another person. “Yeah, it’s-it’s not great.”
Y/n gave a small smile, not quite to the point of being able to laugh about any part of the day.
Joel turned to look at her, drawing her gaze to him and focusing on the two quirked corners of her lips. It used to be his favorite game, making them rise until she’d complain her cheeks hurt. Tonight was the first night that he’d been able to make her smile again, and the little bit of his old self that was on life support took a breath.
Y/n let her eyes drift across Joel’s face, resting in the way he returned it. It was a dangerous fucking place to be, but after what they’d just gone through, she was too tired to fight her way out.
A loud laugh from Ellie snapped them out of whatever moment they were having.
“Look,” Joel turned to Henry, “I don’t know exactly how we’re gettin’ to Wyoming, we’re probably walkin’. But,” he stopped, still uncomfortable with the full spectrum of his emotions, “You know, if you want to.”
“Yeah,” Henry answered instantly, “Yeah. Um…yeah, I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.”
“Oh, trust me,” Y/n smiled, looking on to Ellie, “You won’t find anyone friendlier than her,” she glanced at Joel, “Then again, we don’t set the bar very high, now do we?”
Henry laughed under his breath, even Joel couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “No, you don’t,” Henry replied, “I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”
“We’re not getting anywhere if we’re carrying them on our backs,” Y/n remarked, dusting the crumbs off her jeans and getting to her feet.
Henry got up with Y/n and heading into Sam and Ellie’s room. He knocked on the door and began to sign to Sam.
“Whatever he’s saying,” Y/n pointed to Ellie, “Same goes for you. Real adventure starts tomorrow.”
Ellie rolled her eyes lightly as Y/n approached, letting her take the comic out of her hand and place it on the nightstand. “Hey,” she said, “Is Joel’s brother like him? All grumpy and constipated?
“He is,” Y/n started, a flood of pleasant memories hitting her, “Way more fun. Not a stick to be found up his ass.”
Ellie snorted, Y/n knew she’d fall in love with Tommy in a minute. Everyone did.
Y/n ran a hand over Ellie’s head, they weren’t close enough for a hug but she wanted the girl to know that she had someone that cared about her. If Joel was her protecter, Y/n wanted to be her comfort. The oasis she could run to in the desert.
“Get some rest,” she ordered.
“Why?” Ellie cocked an eyebrow, “So you and Joel can have more time to cuddle?”
Y/n knew she’d be paying for her unconscious choices as long as Ellie was around to witness them. She lightly pushed her forehead, sending Ellie back on the bed in a fit of giggles.
“Will Livingston dies a slow and painful death if you ever bring that up again,” Y/n retorted, giving Ellie a pat on the leg after, “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Ellie called in a teasing tone.
Y/n stopped by Sam’s bed, tapping his hip to get his attention. She signed ‘endure and survive’ back to him, Sam nodded with a smile.
“Practicing,” Y/n beamed, earning herself a thumbs up, “Goodnight.”
She left the room before Henry, Joel hadn’t moved from their spot against the radiator. The door had been open the whole time.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “‘Stick up my ass?’”
Y/n leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms, almost relaxed. “I said what I said,” she smirked, “She called you constipated.”
Joel shook his head at her, fond memories of her and Tommy ganging up on him filing his head.
He wouldn’t tell her that he’d heard the whole conversation.
Henry exited the room, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m exhausted,” he said, staking out the far right corner of the room for himself.
“Yeah,” Y/n sighed.
Joel rose up from the ground, already dreading trying to do another bed time shuffle with Y/n. He glanced over at her, first spotting the blood seeping through her bandages.
“Your hand,” he said, crossing the space between them.
“Huh?” Y/n furrowed her brows, holding it up to examine it, “Oh, shit. I didn’t even feel that.”
Joel was hesitant to grab it, but was itching to fix it up. “Adrenaline,” he settled for.
“So much for sleep,” Y/n grumbled, bending down and picking up her backpack.
Joel followed, setting the corner table back on its feet along with the two nearby chairs. Henry was already asleep in his corner. Joel sat down across from Y/n and watched as she pulled out the first aid kit. As she unpacked the supplies, his fingers began to twitch with nervous energy.
Y/n picked up on his fidgety state, stopping what she was doing to look at him. “Are you really that much of a control freak that you need to do this?”
Joel didn’t know what he was, just that he needed assurance that she was going to be alright. The only satisfactory way to do that was to do it himself.
“Fine,” Y/n scoffed, sliding the kit across the table to him, “Have at it.”
Joel unpacked the same supplies they’d used yesterday as Y/n unwrapped her hand. He was glad she’d taken extra gauze from his stash back in Massachusetts, they were running low.
“How long do you think it’ll take to get to Wyoming on foot?” Y/n asked as Joel grabbed an alcohol wipe. She’d already clotted, but the sites still needed to be cleaned.
He bristled, “A long fuckin’ while.”
“And are we measuring that in miles or kilometers?” Y/n asked, her tone deadpan.
Joel nearly smiled, gently rubbing the wipe over the bloody surface. Y/n hissed as it made contact with her skin, digging into her chair and drawing a deep breath after.
“Killed, like, four Clickers,” Joel decided to joke, never looking up from his ministrations, “Can’t handle a little wipe.”
“Says the man who can navigate his way across the country, but couldn’t explain a siphon to a fourteen year old,” Y/n remarked, matching his wit.
Joel peered up, a small smirk playing on his lips, mimicking the one on Y/n’s. This was the longest they’d gone without fighting during a conversation. One shift could turn the almost peaceful moment to a shipwreck.
“What happened out there tonight?” Joel asked, his mind still spinning from anxiety.
“Ran out of ammo,” Y/n answered, she know immediately what he was referring to, “Perfect timing, huh?”
Joel scoffed and ran a second alcohol wipe over her wounds. “Yeah,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.
“But there was this weird guy hiding out in an abandoned house who took care of things,” Y/n remarked, her eyes traveling from her and Joel’s hands to his face.
Joel paused and met her stare, surprised that she was acknowledging his effort at all.
“Thank you,” Y/n continued.
Joel shook his head, returning to his work, “You don’t need to thank me.”
“Would you rather me say ‘Fuck off, you dick. I can take care of myself?’”
“That would fall in line with what you usually have to say,” Joel replied, reaching for the gauze pads.
Y/n nodded in reply, a smile pulling at her cheeks. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, only that she was traumatized, tired, and in need of someone to talk to. If that someone came in the form of Joel, then so be it.
Joel tried to focus on Y/n’s wound, breaking it down into steps. Sterilize, gauze, wrap. He couldn’t get caught up on the fact that they were getting along. As benign as the it sounded, it was leaps and bounds ahead of where they’d come from.
Y/n, on the other hand, had nothing to do but sit and wait for him to be done. She watched how precisely he placed the gauze pads, as if one inch off their assigned spots would cost her her life. It reminded her of how precise he’d been with his lips, his hands. Every touch had carried purpose, the ultimate goal to make her know how much he loved her.
This touch, so warm and gentle, felt the same to Y/n.
Much like the day before, it took a lot of effort on Joel’s part not to get caught up in the feel of Y/n’s hand against his. He wrapped a fresh strip of bandage around it, weaving the roll between her thumb and under her palm. Back at the house, watching her narrowly avoid Infected had choked him. Every five seconds, she’d been brought to the edge of death, only for one of them to strike back at the very last moment. It had drained any and all energy left in Joel’s body, and had brought on a whole new set of questions.
If he were to lose her or Ellie at this point, what would it do to him?
He anchored the bandage down, sealing Y/n’s wound, and tried to escape the scenarios his mind was creating. They were alive, they were safe, and they would make it to Wyoming. If that was what he needed to keep repeating to himself the whole way west, he would.
“At the risk of inflating your ego,” Y/n examined his work, “Well done.”
Joel didn’t respond, he simply handed her the supplies to pack up. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, or rather, what he wanted and what he knew he couldn’t have.
Y/n threw the kit back in her backpack and came back to where they’d been. Joel was already kneeling down on the ground, removing and balling up his jacket. She didn’t want to land herself in another situation where cuddling up to Joel was a possibility, she also didn’t want to infringe on Henry’s personal space.
“You mind keepin’ an ear peeled?,” Joel asked, it was like he could read her mind, “In case I roll over on the wrong side again.”
“Yeah,” Y/n replied, coming to sit beside Joel with just enough space between them. Close enough to protect, far enough away for clear minds.
Joel stretched out one arm just above Y/n’s head. It wasn’t the closest they’d been in the past day, but it was certainly the most intimate. Y/n was facing him, the top of her hair nearly grazing his forearm. Every signal in his brain told him to roll over, put another wall between them, but there was a stronger thought that cancelled the noise.
He simply didn’t want to.
Y/n adjusted herself on her jacket and was left with nothing left to do but stare at Joel. The lines on his face were deeper, his features had grown sharper, yet somewhere underneath it all…she could still see the man she’d fallen in love with in the heat of an Austin summer. Perhaps that was what was playing with her mind the most; how she got glimpses of Joel as he was before morphing into the new version. She used to wonder what age would do to them and she knew that if Cordyceps had never mutated, Joel’s frown lines would be smiles lines. The skin underneath his eyes would wrinkle from deep laughter. And in the times where his brow would crease with concern, a single kiss from her would have relaxed the muscles.
It was enough to bring her to tears.
“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, his voice gruff but his words filled with concern.
It was all wrong. All of it. Everything that had happened to them. Everything the world had become. Risking their lives every day for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.
It was all so horribly wrong.
“I’m just tired,” Y/n spoke past the lump in her throat, “Really fucking tired.”
Joel wanted to reach out, place a finger underneath her lashes to catch her tears before they fell. In another life, he’d have taken her in his arms and grazed his lips across her ear. He’d have called her Rosebud and told her to sleep, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her.
But he’d lost the right to act on such feelings a lifetime ago.
“Get some sleep,” he replied, it was the only part of the urge he could listen to.
Y/n shook her head, smiling with sadness, “It’s not that kind of tired.”
Nothing else needed to be said. Joel understood those six words better than any other. His exhaustion went so far past his backaches or cracking knees. His soul was seeking rest that it would never find.
It wasn’t lost on either of them that it took nearly dying for them to start drifting back to one another. The hate faded into background noise, or ceased to exist at all. They picked up their anger when they were safe, because it took effort. It took effort to stay mad, a fire requiring constant attention. But protecting one another was natural. At the end of the day, all that had transpired between Joel and Y/n would never come in the way of saving one another. Hate was a choice, care was an instinct.
Joel’s soft gaze traveled across Y/n’s face. “Try,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n nodded, her eyes still resting on Joel. She knew if she stared at him a minute longer, she’d no longer be able to choose hate.
Though she’d never know it, Joel felt the exact same way. He was becoming weaker and weaker for her with each moment they spent together.
They didn’t bid each other goodnight, they didn’t even fall asleep at the same time, despite sharing the same exhaustion. Joel stayed awake a few extra minutes after Y/n drifted off. He watched her frown relax, her brows unclench and her chest rise and fall, keeping the same steady beat that used to lull him to sleep.
—————————
Y/n had scooted closer in her sleep, her and Joel’s bodies still not touching but their breaths mingling together.
Had they awoken with the sunlight peeking through the blinds, strips of the warm glow across their eyes, urging them awake, they wouldn’t have backed away. It would have been the first time in twenty years they’d have woken up to one another. They wouldn’t have been mad.
Instead, they startled awake to the sounds of screams.
Joel and Y/n sat up in time to see Ellie fall out of the door, a snarling Sam jumping on her and pinning her down. Henry woke not two seconds after them, barely able to register the sight.
Sam was infected.
Joel was the first to reach for his handgun, but Henry was quicker and yanked it away. He had it aimed at Y/n and Joel before they were even on their feet.
“Nope, nope, nope,” he warned.
“Joel!” Ellie’s heartbreaking scream filled the room, “Y/n!”
Joel and Y/n took one step in Ellie’s direction and Henry fired a shot at their feet. Joel shoved Y/n behind him, she clung to his arm.
“Joel!” Ellie shrieked again, begging for help from either adult, “Y/n!”
Before they could have a coherent thought, it was all over.
Henry turned his gun on Sam.
He fired a single bullet.
Sam collapsed to the floor.
Ellie sat up with tears in her eyes.
Joel lowered his hands, but Y/n still kept a firm grip on him.
“Ellie,” he breathed, his heart was racing, “Are you okay?”
The girl looked to her guardians, shocked and heartbroken.
They took a cautious step towards her, but Henry put a stop to it as he trained his pistol back on them. Joel threw his arm back out in front of Y/n, not knowing what the man might do.
Distraught seemed too small a word to describe the expression on Henry’s face. He was gutted.
Joel ensured Y/n was still fastened to him before he cautiously held out his hands to Henry, “Easy, easy, easy,” his voice was barely audible, “Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun.”
“What did I do?” Henry choked out.
Joel shushed him, as one would a wild animal on the verge of attacking.
“What did I do?” Henry asked again, “What-what-what did I do?”
“Henry,” Y/n nearly whimpered, her breath trembling as she did, “Henry, stop, please.”
Henry stared through his tears at his little brother’s body, blood spreading across the floor, “Sam?”
Joel urged with a new desperation as the realization deepened, “Henry, gimme the gun.”
“Henry, please,” Y/n let go of Joel, taking a calculated step forward, “I know. I know.”
“Gimme the gun, Henry,” Joel continued.
Henry’s eyes, still focused on his brother, glazed over as he raised the gun to his temple.
“HENRY, NO!” Joel cried out.
Y/n rushed past Joel, “HENRY, I KN-“
It was too late.
As it happened, Joel jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling her into him.
“No!” Y/n screamed, she lurched forward as if she could still save him.
Y/n’s eyes were flooded with tears, her sobs tearing her apart so hard that they came out silent. When the noise finally came, it was a guttural cry that might come from a wounded animal. Y/n’s knees gave out on her, Joel caught her and helped lower her to the ground. He kept his arms tight around her as she wailed.
When Y/n came to, and she realized Joel was holding her, the rage reignited. “Get off me,” she yelled, clawing her way out of his embrace.
Joel let her go, shrinking back slightly at the sudden reaction. Ellie watched, consumed by terror as her rock crumbled under the weight of the trauma.
Y/n crawled towards Henry, avoiding the blood, and clung to his shirt. She wept into his still warm body, wishing that he’d have let her finish her sentence. It could have changed everything.
The three of them sat there, waiting for their grief to come to a managable level.
“We gotta go,” Joel said eventually, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.
“We can’t leave them here,” Ellie muttered, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.
Y/n was sitting beside Henry’s body by then, waiting for him to breathe air that would never reach his lungs.
“Gimme a minute,” Joel said, getting to his feet and moving mechanically out the motel room door.
Time moved slow and all at once to the three of them. Joel went into the maintenance closet and found two shovels, bringing them back to the room where nothing and no one had moved. Him and Y/n, trying to spare Ellie what little trauma they could, carried Sam and Henry’s bodies across the road and to a patch of grass. The two of them began to shovel shallow graves, burying their friends.
The job was nearly done, they were just patting the soil back down when Ellie returned. She’d retrieved the few posessions they still had, dropping Y/n and Joel’s coats and Y/n and Henry’s backpack at their feet. She came to kneel at Sam’s grave, taking it in before setting his magnetic pad atop the dirt.
Standing back up with a weight no child deserved to carry, she turned to Joel, “Which way’s west?”
Joel looked off to his left and nodded, Ellie set off in the direction.
Y/n could feel herself slipping into a heavy numbness, a grief filling her that few could understand. She felt like she had one nostril, barely taking in oxygen, above the waters that slammed into her. But as soon as she saw Ellie’s handwriting, the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across the magnetic pad, she lost the fight.
She understood Henry’s fight.
She understood his decision.
And she understood his guilt.
She dropped her shovel where it was, picked up her jacket and slung her backpack over her shoulder, following Ellie and leaving Joel by himself. He was the last person she could stand to look at right now.
Joel watched her leave, any softness that had existed between the two of them a few hours ago had disappeared.
He leaned against his shovel, staring down at the dirt and Ellie’s makeshift headstone. Having done what they’d just done, having known Henry and Sam, watching them interact….it gave Joel the answer to the question he’d pondered the night before.
If anything happened to Y/n or Ellie, he wouldn’t know how to carry on.
And that was the most terrifying feeling he could have had, because he’d had it before.
Ellie had snarked, sassed and snuck her way into his heart. Y/n had always been there, his affection never fading over time despite her perceived betrayal. But he’d buried her, another name in the long list of people he’d lost over twenty years. To have her come crashing back into his life had been unexpected and unwanted. He couldn’t stop himself from letting her consume his mind, just as she had the first time.
Now here he was, a child and the woman he’d loved relying on him, killing for him, and he wanted to run.
“Let’s go,” Ellie called out, she was even beginning to sound like him.
Joel startled, looking on to see Ellie and Y/n waiting for him. Y/n refused to look at him. They were right back to where they’d begun their journey. Perhaps even further, she’d met his gaze even after the ambush that had brought them back together. Something had shifted in her that Joel couldn’t figure out, nor did he think it was best to look too deep.
He put on Henry’s backpack, feeling the weight of it, and slipped his jacket through the strap. He gave a parting glance to the brother’s graves and headed off to join the women.
Despite their failure to keep their pasts hidden, the three of them had scars the others didn’t know about. Intricate pieces of them that had made them who they were in the Cordyceps dominated world. But past the secrets, there was a loyalty too real to deny. They were too deep in to quit on each other. Trudging westward, with grief still fresh and fragile in their palms, they were all each other had.
If one of them died, they all would.
———————
TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)
#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us spoilers#the last of us imagine#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#twenty years later
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
Miraculous Ladybug
Open My Eyes by buggachat
Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.
(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)
(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)
“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”
(Adrien has some things to find out.)
DC
the good, the bad, and the power hungry by konan_konan
dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・8hr
if one more person tweets about #superlex unironically im gonna end it all
391K Views | 200 Retweets | 13 Quote Tweets | 22.1K Likes
j-son of a bitch ☑ @jsntdd・8hr
↳ replying to @timdrakeceo
hurr durr these are the consequences of ur actions bitch
201K Views | 109 Retweets | 4 Quote Tweets | 18.4K Likes
or: lex luthor makes bad choices. and then, so does everyone else.
call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu
Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.
This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.
Just a bank account, even.
how big, how blue, how beautiful by merils
Kon-El is not good with medical settings. One could even say he's quite bad with them. How bad, exactly?
Well, let's put it this way: Very few things in the world can make him scream for Superman to save him.
(Superman will save him. That's what family's for, right?)
Clone Wars
The Kenobi Chronicles by WobblyCat
General Kenobi isn't actually dead. Someone should really tell that to his troopers, though.
Or: The clones under General Kenobi's command have a groupchat dedicated to him. Cody wishes his subordinates weren't so fucking stupid.
SVSSS
Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc by SpicyReyes
The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests.
This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him.
If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!
second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox
"All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information. "Who am I supposed to be?"
Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders.
Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh.
[Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]
or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?
#my laptop broke :(( can i get an f in the notes#i'm using my super old one from high school rn and i am Struggling#my posts#weekly fic round up#fic recs#svsss recs#dc recs#sw recs#ml recs
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Female reader x top lady lesso with strap, at the end of it all readers shaking, out of breathe, can't really move anymore is what I been asking for the longest
Hey hey hey anon! You asked & I’ll gladly deliver. Added ask @ladylessowife —‘Could you maybe do 48 with Lesso pls?’ Hope you all Enjoy ♥️
I’ll Rock Your World ~Top!Lady Lesso xFem Reader
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
#48. “Watch your mouth...”
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, overstimulation, eating out, strap-fucking, kissing, praise kink, lovely aftercare, etc.
Enjoy (;
“No one’s ever made you climax? Like only yourself…??” Lesso surprisingly asked you.
“Yep. None of my past partners or hookups have ever been able to… you know…”
“Make you cum?” Lesso bluntly stated.
Blush crept up your cheeks lightly.
Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to confess to the woman you’d been seeing but hadn’t been intimate with yet…
“Yeah…” you admitted in a whisper.
Lesso stared at you with her mouth agape. But she also noted your sensitivity to the subject.
“Wow… I mean, I’m sorry no one’s been able to please you well…” she comforted.
You shrugged your shoulders.
“I’ve just come to the conclusion that I do it best.”
At this, the red head cocked an eyebrow at you.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, I just know my body better than they all did, I guess.”
“Watch your mouth...” Lesso teasingly warned you, “Don’t challenge me, baby…”
“What…?” You chuckled.
“I’d have you cumming over and over again until your body goes limp…” Lesso confidently purred.
“Don’t be so sure…” you mumbled.
Lesso then got up and walked over to you, cupping your chin and raising it to her standing form.
“If you decide to give me that chance, I would most definitely.” She lovingly purred.
“Thank you, Baby…” you whispered, smiling lovingly up at her.
~~~
Throughout the next week, you thought about what Lesso had said. And the whole idea made you curious.
Dating the one and only dean of evil was one thing…
Fucking the one and only dean of evil was a whole added thing…
But you wanted the woman. Even if your expectations were let down once again. You wanted to try.
So, that evening, you walked into Lesso’s office with an agenda on your mind. You closed the door behind you and plopped yourself right in the red heads lap.
“Hey…!” Lesso playfully exclaimed, “I’m working he—!”
Your lips were on hers before she could finish her statement. Your lips kissed the red heads with fervor and passion, which Lesso eagerly reciprocated. Your hips ground into her lap, and the red heads hands eagerly gripped your hips to aid your grindings. You both needily moaned into the kiss.
Eventually, you both had to pull away for oxygen. Lesso was staring at you with a big fucking smirk and wide eyes.
“God, you’re allowed to interrupt my work anytime now, baby…” she breathlessly groaned.
You giggled lightly, not stopping your grindings into her lap.
“I’m ready. I want you…” you whispered, attaching your hot mouth to the red heads pressure point.
Lesso let out a guttural groan as her head flung back. But she was quick to check herself as she processed your words.
“Are you sure, Baby…?” She breathlessly asked.
You bit your lip and nodded, going to crash your lips back into the red heads eagerly, but you were stopped by her hand.
“There’s no need to rush…” She purred, “Let me take care of you…”
“Ok…” you panted, your heart racing.
“First things first, if I do something you don’t like and want me to change say ‘yellow’, and if you just want me to stop all together say ‘red’… Understand?”
“I understand…”
Lesso smiled at your agreement. She then scooped you up and carried you to her private quarters, dropping you below her on her bed.
“What do you want, Baby…?” She taunted.
“I… Fuck me—please…” you stuttered.
Lesso’s eyes twinkled with lust.
“Alright, I’ll be right back…”
Lesso left to go into her closet, and she came back out in nothing but her undergarments and her blue strap-on dick. You eyes widened and you bit your lip, nodding eagerly. But the red head tutted you off.
“Not yet, Baby… First, I want to taste you.”
Her words made you melt on the spot. You immediately stripped off all your clothes and opened your legs wide for the blonde.
“Someone’s eager aren’t they…?” Lesso teased.
You playfully stuck your tongue out in response, but your face quickly contorted into a silent scream of pleasure when Lesso caught you off guard by swiftly sliding her tongue through your folds. The red head continued to lap away at your folds, slowly building to your climax.
“Oh, OHHhHhhhH—!!” You moaned out, grasping Lesso’s red hair tightly.
“Hmmmm, you like that baby…?” The red head taunted.
You nodded vigorously.
“Please… whatever you’re doing… don’t stop…!!” You whimpered.
Lesso lowered her mouth back down to your heat.
“Oh baby…” she chuckled, “I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon…”
That skilled tongue of Lesso’s edged you all the way right up to the edge of your high.
“You gonna cum for me, Baby…?” She lustfully cooed.
Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“Yes yes, so close please please Leo—!!”
“Uh uh, eyes open, baby…”
You opened your hooded eyes and the view of the red head in between your legs sent you over the edge.
~~~
“I… God Fuck me Leo please—!!” You whimpered.
You couldn’t take anymore of her teasing, skilled tongue. You wanted to be filled by her. Fully.
“Alright, Baby…” The red head lustfully chuckled.
~~~
You cried out in pleasurable pain as Lesso continued to pound into you through your upteenth orgasm of the night.
“Yesss Baby…” the red head lustfully hissed, “I know my dick feels so good…”
Your mouth spewed more incoherent mewls and cries, your hands fisted in the bed sheets, and your head rolled back in overwhelming pleasure.
“But why are you crying…?” She taunted, “Isn’t this what you asked for?”
You let out a guttural moan as the woman hit that sweet spot deep inside you, and you nodded vigorously.
“Do you want me to stop…?” Lesso wickedly purred, “See, i don’t think you do… Not by the way your juices are spilling out of your cunt… Not by the way your crying out my name…”
“No no no don’t stop GOD don’t stop—!!” You cried out.
Lesso continued to rut into you with skill, only pushing you further to your next climax.
“That’s okay, Baby… Keep crying and I’ll let you cum on my dick as many times as you’d like…” She purred.
You merely mewled and nodded in response.
“My pretty crybaby…” Lesso cooed.
~~~
You didn’t usually like being proved wrong, but in this case… so worth it.
You were still shaking and all trembly as Lesso finally put the strap away. She came up to you, pulling you close to her so that she could properly clean you up. She gently washed your thighs clean and you spasmed every once and a while from how sensitive you were. Your breathing was labored and still extremely out of it.
“Shhhhh, You did so good, baby, so good…” the red head cooed, cleaning around your heat with a warm rag.
Afterwards, the red head pulled you into her form, causing you to whine slightly at your sore figure being moved.
“Shhhhhh, just cuddle into me, sweet girl…” she cooed.
You were quick to fall asleep in the red hair’s arms.
~~~
Lady Leonora Lesso Masterlist
#top!lady lesso#top!lesso#lady lesso#lady lesso content#lesso x reader#professor lesso#lady leonora lesso#lady lesso x y/n#lady lesso smut#lady lesso fanfic#lady lesso x you#lady lesso x reader#leonora lesso smut#leonora lesso#lesso#tsfgae fanfic#tsfgae x reader#tsfgae#tsfgae movie#school for good and evil fanfic#school for good and evil smut#the school for good and evil smut#the school for good and evil#school for good and evil#school for good and evil x reader#mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?
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Omg so I’m currently obsessed with James but I’ve also been listening to ‘You are in Love’ by Taylor ofc, so I was wondering if you could do a fic based that, please and thank you! No rush ofc!❤️🥹
𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.
❥ pairings: james potter x fem!reader
❥ summary: short story about you & james falling in love.
❥ warnings: muggle au, a tiny little bit smut
❥ word count: 1,2k
❥ a/n: based off you are in love by the music industry
you noticed james looking at you from the other side of the room as you engaged in a conversation with your friend remus who just happened to get married to his boyfriend sirius.
you locked your eyes with james as you asked, "who is that?"
remus looked to his friend's direction. "oh, that's my close friend, james." he glanced back at you. "i'm gonna be honest with you. he already asked me about you so i'm pretty sure he will ask you out soon."
"really?" you raised an eyebrow and smiled, making james blush.
"yeah. will you say yes?"
you turned to face him and shrugged. "maybe. is he nice?"
remus nodded. "the nicest person i've ever met. a heart of gold he has. don't tell that to sirius, though."
you smiled and mimicked locking your lips.
you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love
it didn't take james more than a second to convince you to go on a date with him as you agreed as soon as he asked you.
you two spend an entire afternoon and evening together and it was getting close to midnight but none of you seemed to want this day to end.
talking to james was so easy. you completed each other. it felt like you two knew each other forever. you loved and hated feeling excited about seeing him again when the date you were on didn't even end yet.
not to mention the fact how beautiful he was. with his dark hair falling down his face over his eyes that gave you a look which made you blush and you only thanked that it was dark so he couldn't tease you.
"are you tired?" he asked when he stopped on the traffic lights. you glanced at the digital clock in his car. it was 11:51pm but you were nowhere near tired.
"no, not at all?" you answered. "you?"
he shook his head. "me neither. you want to grab a coffee?"
you looked at him as if he was crazy and chuckled. "coffee at midnight?"
he nodded. "why not?"
"okay. yeah, why not?"
james quickly found a late-night café nearby and got you two coffees. then, you enjoyed them underneath the night sky. the street lights reflected the chain on your neck.
"look up," he said and when you did, you could feel your shoulders brush. "that's ursa major constellation," he was pointing at the constellation that represented a great bear. "it was one of the forty-eight constellations listed by the second century ad astronomer ptolemy." his finger then pointed to another one. "and that's leo."
"are you interested in stars?" you question and he looked at you, staying quiet for a bit before chuckling and shaking his head.
"not much," he admitted. "but remus told me you do so i just tried to remember everything sirius told me about stars to impress you."
"well," you smiled up at him. "it did impress me."
when you got into his car and he drove you home, comfortable silence prevailed between you two. you could hear it, though.
you were going to fall in love.
you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love
about a month and a half later, you spent the night at james's for the first time. i mean, you spend the night at his place already but this time it was different. you two made love.
you wanted to take things slowly at first but something clicked inside you the night before. you were so attracted to him. not only because of his appearance but because of his personality too. he was so lovely and, god, so bloody beautiful.
the morning after, you woke up in an empty bed. you looked around the room, eyebrows furrowed. you could smell something burnt. after you rubbed your eyes and stretched, you reached for a piece of clothing thrown on the floor and the memories of the night before came into your mind, making you bite your lip and blush. you put on james's white shirt and your underwear before making your way to the kitchen.
you found james sitting on one of the chairs by he table with his head in his hands.
worry was written all over your face as you walked over to him and squeezing his shoulder. "what's going on,?"
he looked up at you with puppy eyes and pointed at the kitchen counter. "wanted to make you toasts for breakfast and i burnt them."
"oh," you tried to stop yourself from laughing. he was so adorable. "well, that's okay, i can make them."
he nodded and as you wanted to go and make the toasts, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and brought you closer. you smiled and ran your hand through his hair, making it even messier as if that was even possible. flashbacks from last night appeared in front of your eyes. how you pulled at his hair when he went down on you and the whimpers he let out because of that.
you made enough toasts for both of you and you ate them in silence, just enjoying each other's presence. james held your hand and played with the ring on your finger.
after breakfast and a short make out session, you, unfortunately, had to get ready for work. james watched you getting undressed with a grin on his face that you rolled your eyes at with a smile.
"keep it," he said when you wanted to give him back his shirt.
"huh?"
"keep it. it looks so much better on you," he spoke before giving your cheek a kiss.
"you sure?"
"yeah, of course."
"okay," you breathed out and paused. "well, i have to go. . ."
"okay," james nodded. "i'll call you later, yeah?"
"yeah," you agreed. and with a last peck on his lips, you unwillingly left to work.
you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love
three months into the relationship and you were happier than ever. james might seem a bit boyish but in reality he is the most mature boyfriend you've ever had. when you two fought, he wouldn't be rude to you, he wouldn't ignore you. instead of that, he would sit you down and you both would talk about how you felt.
but of course, you two wouldn't fight often. if there was anything bothering you, you learnt that it's best to talk about it rather than let it bubble inside of you and then explode, causing a fight.
there was a moment after a certain argument that you will hold close to your heart forever.
you two were lying in bed at james's place, not talking much for the entire evening. you had to admit it was your fault. you were a bit to stubborn to talk things through.
it could be a bit past midnight, about an hour since your and james's heads hit the pillows, when you felt his arm wrapping around your waist. you didn't pull away or anything like that. it was hours since you felt the warmth of his body.
you felt james's lips on the back of your head. you turned around to face him and touched his face. he leaned into your hand.
you heard him take a deep breath and then he said, "you're my best friend."
and you knew what it was.
he is in love.
#harry potter#harry potter imagine#marauders#marauders imagine#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#harry potter x reader#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter smut
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Datura Pt 7
Summary: The fallout of your confrontation with Amarantha comes to a head, and just might push you that much closer to a certain High Lord.
Content Warnings: Torture, blood, mentions of SA
Author’s Note: Cauldron Boil me this chapter took forever to write on mobile 🫠 My laptop is down for the foreseeable future, but I’m doing my best to keep up on the updates, even if they will be a little slower for a bit. Thank you all for your patience! ❤️ As always, if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! 😁
Master list
————————————————————————
It feels like a dream; a dream would explain the shimmering auroras of blue, violet and pink overhead; explain the music that floats around your as if it’s on the wind; explain the creature of darkness and starlight that drags gentle fingers through your hair. It would be a lovely dream, the kind you cling to desperately as waking beckons at the edge of your consciousness.
A dream would explain why a voice made for the gentle darkness of a bedroom speaks from everywhere at once: “I’ve got you. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” It might come from the creature who holds your head in its lap but you can’t be sure. Not when the clicking of heels on stone drags you further away from the music and the starlight. Not when the dream shifts and spins and feels a little too like your training exercises for you to be convinced this isn’t actually happening inside the confines of your own head.
It’s hard to be certain of anything through the fog that clings to you. The only thing that’s real and true is the pain shooting through your right arm. It’s so intense you try to curl in on yourself but that only makes it worse. Any movement makes nausea roll in your gut and your head spin. The loud booming of heels on stone doesn’t help.
“Oh poor little thing,” a voice croons.
And then pain flares in your spine, the air crushed from your lungs as something sharp and heavy presses down into the center of your back. You’re blind with pain, barely conscious enough to see what’s happening, let alone fight. The half wheeze half scream that tears out of you sounds like it belongs to a trampled animal.
“Where’s all that fight you showed last night?”
The pressure increases and the blurring in your already terrible vision is now more from tears than your own mental fog.
Something brushes against your mind, like phantom fingers brushing against your mental shields. “Get up! Fight her!”
More pressure on your spine. It’s an effort just to get a breath in. You’re going to be crushed like this.
“I can’t! Please. Please help me!”
There is no one else to help you, no one there to make any of it make sense. You can’t figure out where you are, why this is happening, everything feels so foggy.
The pressure on your spine finally lets up, let’s you breathe, just for something to hit you in the back of the head. Not hit. Kicked. The tip of one of those ridiculously pointed heels has kicked you in the back of the head. They’re starting to come into view, even as your temple clacks against the rough stone floor, the same awful shade of red as the hair flowing from her pale head.
“You’re going to be ok. I’ve got you. Breathe.”
The tip of her heel slides under your chin as Amarantha comes around to face you and the world finally comes into focus as she uses her shoe to lift your chin.
You’ve never felt so small and helpless in your life; you’re a bug and she’s a giant.
“Don’t let her see you cry.” Urges the voice. Now that you’re head is clearing, the fog rolling out slowly, you realize it’s Rhys, has been this entire time. “Stand up.”
You try, you really, really try, but getting your palms against the floor, moving the mottled mess of flesh that’s your right arm at all makes the world spin. If you’d eaten anything at all you would have thrown up all over the Queen’s expensive shoes.
Would have been worth it.
“Nothing to say to me now?” She coos.
“Rhys I can’t get up,” you whimper in your head. She’s going to crush you like this. Put your head under her heel and stomp down until your skull cracks like a watermelon.
You feel him tugging at things in your head, not throwing open doors to your memories, but rooting through the bookshelves, looking for something, anything he can reach to move you himself.
“You know, I’m feeling a lot better this morning. Turns out mated sex does wonders for the psyche.”
Your stomach rolls.
“Mother’s tits! Tamlin!” Rhys swears and as if his horror is your own, a shiver trembles down your spine. You get a flash of something like nails running across your skin, drawing blood, a scent of mirthroot and incense, and then it’s thrown out of your head in a rush.
“Rhys-” horror and the dawning realization rolls through you at once and that chasm in your chest that had snapped shut last night, the yawning, bottomless darkness rises up to meet you, calling your name. There’s a roaring in your ears, as if a strong wind had burst through the mountain. You can only see red.
“So I’ll offer you a bargain,” Amarantha is still speaking, her voice droning and lifeless in your ears.
You grit your teeth and put your palms flat on the floor, trying to get up again, fighting every slash of pain, the horrible tearing feeling in your gaping flesh. You get an inch, maybe two, your whole body shaking. The roaring in your ears won’t stop, it’s getting worse. Pain explodes in your jaw, fangs ripping through your lip. Your eyes are changing again, things suddenly sharper and clearer in your vision.
“You drink this,” she’s pulled a vial from some pocket realm, holding the black glass between the tips of her pointed nails. Nails you can now see still tipped in blood. There’s more of it splattered across her pale arms, a hint of it around her lips. You don’t know if it’s Tamlin’s or Rhys’s.
You manage to get a knee up under your body, then a second. Blood drips from the lacerations across your shoulder and back, cascading into the horrifyingly large puddle beneath where you’d been laying.
“Tie your powers to me and I’ll heal you right up.”
“NO!!! Don’t do it!!!” Rhys screams; it’s a strange sensation to have his voice so clear in your head, even as the mountain shakes beneath you, rattled by a dark power you somehow know in bones is him. It’s not a darkness like yours, nothing that lives in the deep recesses of his being, it is something natural and good that has been honed and sharped and when he unleashes it, you feel it skitter across your skin. You can almost taste jasmine and citrus.
Amarantha pauses her little victory speech to stare at the roof as it rattles and cracks, raining dust and debris down on your heads. She frowns, then cocks her head like she’s listening to something. Her eyes glaze over a bit, like she’s no longer here in the room with you.
If Rhys can reach you from wherever he’s being held, can he reach her too?
It’s that thought that gets you off your knees. Not standing, not really because you’re so dizzy that would be impossible, but you have enough in you to throw yourself forward and tackle her. It’s her head that slams into the stone floor this time. Her that’s helpless beneath you as your claws rip through your nail beds and you slash a hand across her face. The pain in your arm is blinding, makes your stomach roll and the room spin, your next swipe at her face sheer instinct, but you know it hits something soft, by the splatter or warm blood across your fingers.
She still has the advantage, her years as General of Hybern’s armies and the sheer amount of time she has trained to fight means you got this far because she was surprised, and she won’t stay that way. A claw tipped hand wreathed in flame latches onto your wrist, halting your next blow, the flames licking and crackling up your arm so hot you feel it in your teeth. It would be a surprise if smoke didn’t come out your mouth as you scream, feeling like you’re being cooked from the inside out.
Sheer desperation has you swinging with your other arm, but she’s already shifting her weight and your hand hits stone, talons breaking against the rock. It’s all too easy for her to get another flame wreathed hand around your throat and shift her weight so she’s now atop you.
The mountain still shakes around you. Her eyes are still glassy like Rhys is still trying to reason with her, even as she closes off your air way, nails tearing through your skin.
“You know,” she says as she leans down, lips next to your ear. “I like the struggle. It makes the surrender all the sweater.”
You’re on fire, skin blistering beneath her grip. Spots dance across your vision. But that cavern in your chest cracks, the darkness that lives inside swirling like a tornado as it flares to life, flares in response to your plight. It’s not like last time where you can take hold of it, it takes hold of you, filling you until there is only empty darkness and the sound of Amarantha screaming.
Her weight is off you, her hand no longer crushing your windpipe. You scramble onto your knees, coughing, gasping for breath. When the spots clear from your eyes you can finally see your hands, skin no longer but made entirely of an empty darkness, as if you’re made up by some sort of void. Stranger still, the fire that she had summoned now dances around your wrists and hands, twirling like it belonges to you.
Amarantha’s on the floor, groaning, a huge dent in the wall from where you’d, apparently, thrown her body.
Her dark eyes narrow to the fire wreathing your shifted form. It no longer answers to her, but you, as if you’d stolen in from her.
“GUARDS!” She screams and the door comes flying open, six of her personal guard running in with their weapons drawn. The Attor flanks them, a grin spread across its leathery face.
“Take her to the dungeons! She attacked me!!” Amarantha wails. Blood trickles down her face, your talons having ripped open her cheek, just missing her eye. Good. You’ll splatter more of it before this is over.
Your body feels different. The pain so dull now you start to wonder if it was even real in the first place. None of this feels entirely real as you manage to get on your feet, flames still dancing across your changed body.
They aim spears at your head as one of them approaches with chains. Not normal iron chains, either, the shackles a strange bluish color. You can smell something on them, something decaying and rotten that makes your nose crinkle. All your senses are sharpened when you’re like this, every smell sharp and clear.
“You attacked me!” You say, even though you know it’s useless; your voice raw from how hard she’d held you by the throat. Strangely, the burns that should be blistering across your skin don’t feel like burns anymore. The flames you stole lick over the affected areas, winding back and forth like they’re capable of healing the damage.
The guards move closer, each step calculated. Their grey eyes are narrowed to your hands, eyeing them like snakes poised to strike. You can fight them, the power thrumming in your veins tells you it’ll be easy, as if it’s an entity entirely separate from your own consciousness, but the disastrous effects of yesterday are still heavy on your mind, as muddled as the end of it still is. You were in this predicament because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut; Rhys was in this predicament because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.
You raise your hands, palms up in a move that you hoped would be compliant, but the way they raise their spears, the way the Attor spreads it’s wings and hisses, makes you think better about it. You lower your hands to your sides and look at Amarantha. The grin on her face makes you want to lunge for her throat and claw out her eyes. Your power roars in your ears again, she’s hurt your—
The power balks, retreats as if it had just realized something it didn’t want to touch. The fire vanishes from your hands along with the inky darkness, the power seeping back under your skin until there is no longer a glimpse of it. Your teeth ache as your fangs retract; fingers feel like they’re breaking as your battered talons disappear. Even if you had planned to fight, it would have been useless, you don’t attempt to fight to hold it.
“Good, little mouse,” she purrs.
You grit your aching teeth as the guard hurriedly snaps the cuffs on your wrist. Any lingering hint of power leeches from your body, leaving only the cold press of iron.
Amarantha stalks over once she’s sure they’re secure, sure you’re as helpless as she wishes you to be.
The mountain still shakes around you, but you can’t hear Rhys anymore. Can’t reach into your own shields to search for him, any hint of magic is far beyond your reach.
“Looks like my offer is of no use to you now,” she drags a finger over what should be your ruined shoulder, but the mottled flesh is now pink, your gaping wounds stitched back together. It’ll scar, but that’ll be the end of it.
“So maybe I can change your mind another way, hmm?”
It’s an effort not to tremble.
“Take her to Rhys,” she orders as she snatches a handkerchief from one of them and dabs her bleeding face with it. Her wounds are already healing. “Since he seems alive enough to try and bargain with me.”
Cold dread seeps through you as they drag you down the halls. Heads peak out of doors to watch as your led past, some of the faces you have a vague memory of seeing watch you in the pit. No one comes to your aid; no one will even give you a pitying glance. A couple of them smile. Better you than them, their faces seem to say.
Your whole body feels cold and empty, strained beyond belief. Still, you try and keep your head up best you can as you go deeper and deeper into the mountain.
You can see your breath around your head by the time they finally stop in front of a worn, time scarred door. There’s a heap of rubble in front of it, the walkways half caved in with heaps of rock and debris. The iron is oddly shaped, lumpy almost, like something had been bashed into it over and over from inside.
It’s not until the door is dragged open, with the help of four guards because of all the damage, that your realize that something had been Rhys’s fists. Someone had clamped a collar around his neck and chained him to the wall, or at least, they had initially. The chain had been ripped out of the wall, the rusted medal dangling uselessly behind the male. Even though he was on his knees now, bare chest heaving to catch his breath, knuckles dripping blood into the floor, it was clear he had been doing his damndest to break through the iron door by any means necessary.
The first two guards raise their spears again, as Amarantha says, “Well isn’t this quite the temper tantrum.”
Your chest aches when you see him, the bruising over his face and chest, the blood splattered across the floor.
It looks like it’s an effort for him to raise his chin and look at her. The bruises around his eyes are dark as shadows. “Thought it would get your attention,” he rasps, voice practically gone.
The urge to press your lips to his throat is suddenly overwhelming, your whole body itches to hold him, soothe the aches you mark across his toned body. A thought you try to shove away, a realization you don’t want to think about in a place like this. It would be a tremendous weakness for you to want anything other than friendship.
Amarantha reaches around one of the guards to grab you by the hair, your chains rattling as she drags you over to her.
Rhys is on his feet, snarling, teeth bared at the sight. It takes four of the guards to restrain him.
He’d done that last night too, when they’d shoved you, though you’re not sure why. Doesn’t he hate you? He called you a monster, yet a monster he risked his life for.
“You seem to care a lot about this little thing, Rhysand.”
His eyes darken, narrowing in on the hand gripping your hair like he was debating the best way to rip it off her body. It’s the same murderous rage he’d had when he’d found the Attor had taken you from your room without him.
“So let’s give a little test if the feeling is mutual, hm?”
Your stomach does flips as she waves to the guards and they kick Rhys back down onto his knees on the filthy cell of the floor.
To you, Amarantha says, “You drink the vial,” that black glass is back in her hand again, dangling in front of your face. “And I won’t kill him.”
“You won’t kill me,” Rhys snarls. “Who’d keep your bed warm? Your mate that hates you? Your drugged up slaves?”
It might be the only leverage he has, but it’s like someone dumped ice water on your head. All thought leaves you, save for one singular thing that repeats like a mantra over and over: Save him. Save him. Save him.
You cannot undo what she has already done to him, but you can find a way to stop it, find a way to ensure she never hurts anyone ever again. You’ll kill her, you’ll tear her apart one piece at a time—even if you have to use your powerless hands to do it. What are you unruly powers anyway? They only seem to save you when it suits them. You will find a way without them.
Because, with a sinking feeling in your gut, you know you won’t find a way without Rhys. If he dies here, in this godsdamned cell, on his knees in the muck you will not recover. You’re not entirely sure why, but you know it to be true.
“I’ll take it,” you say.
Rhys flinches, “Don’t you fucking dare!” He snarls.
But you look away from him, to those soulless eyes instead. “I’ll take the vial and you’ll leave him alone.”
She waves the glass back and forth, lips pursed, thinking. “You take the vial and you both get to live as my pretty little pets. I think I’ll make a show out of you in my fighting pits again. You’re amusing to my court.”
You’ll both be alive. And maybe you won’t recognize yourself at the end of it, maybe you’ll hate everything that happens from here on out, but Rhys will be alive.
He’d said you’d need to be an opportunist, to find any way you could to get out, but getting out would mean nothing if you lost your ability to care about anybody in here. If you let him die, the heart your uncle had tried so hard to protect from Hybern would die, and you can’t live with that.
“I��ll do it.”
She drops the vial into your hands.
Rhys starts thrashing again, trying to stand, cursing at everyone.
It takes a second with the shackles in the way, but you manage to get the cork off the top. The scent that hits you is awful, like sulfur and smoke. You don’t give yourself time to think about it as you bring it to your lips and tip it back.
It burns worse than any alcohol you’ve ever tried, tastes like you licked a tar pit, the contents sticky in the back of your throat. It fills you, slithering through your insides like some kind of beast beneath your skin.
Amarantha breathes in deep, savoring whatever transfer she gets from this. Savoring your terrible powers as they get transferred to her.
Rhys has gone still as death on the floor.
“Guess these won’t do you any good,” she sneers. Flickering her wrists, the chains drop from your wrists.
The sensation you feel now that magic can touch you again makes you clutch at your chest, makes your body ache. It feels as if there had been a fire in your belly and the flames had been dragged out your mouth, your nose, your ears.
The guards release Rhys on her order, and then she puts her hand on your back and shoves you directly into his chest. And despite all reason, he wraps his arms around you, keeping you from sprawling face first into the floor.
“I think a few nights down here will teach you a good lesson.”
You bury your face in his neck, the scent of jasmine and citrus and sweat overwhelming. His heart beat is rapid against your cheek, but beating, he’s alive and so are you.
The door slams shut behind you, the old iron groaning and shrieking as it goes. It’s a surprise that they trust it to still hold, but, you suppose they don’t think you’ll try anything now either.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper into his skin once they’re gone. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He grips you a little tighter, his body shaking. He has so little access to his powers and yet he’d still gone to you where he could, had still tried to bring down the mountain, he has to be exhausted, yet that grip on you is firm.
“Idiot,” he hisses, but there’s not much venom behind it. “What were you thinking?”
You shouldn’t, gods know you shouldn’t, but you let yourself lean into him, let him hold you. He’s safe and alive and it doesn’t matter what you have to do to ensure it, because this, him… It’s right. Just as it had been on Calanmai, as it was in your headspace when it was just the two of you, it’s right.
“You’re an ass,” you say into his skin, “but I’m not going to let you die for me.”
“Y/N,” he begins to reprimand, even as his hand strokes down your back, fingers catching in the tattered remains of the dress he had sent you yesterday. Gods the Pit and the chimeras had felt like a lifetime ago already.
“Yell all you want,” you whisper. “Push me away all you want. It’s not going to stop me from caring about you.”
He lowers his chin onto your shoulder, body sagging in surrender. It’s hard to tell if he’s holding you up or you’re holding him up. Doesn’t really matter in the end, you’re both too exhausted for it to matter.
“The closer you are,” he whispers and his voice is so damaged from either the collar or from screaming that it cracks. “The more danger you are in.”
“I killed three chimeras yesterday, I think I’ll live.”
“Yesterday you had full access to your powers.”
You reach for the chasm, expecting it to feel cold and empty, to confirm that it was gone and you had truly signed all of it away to that horrible bitch, and though a part of you hoped, like Rhys you’d maintain a fraction of it still sleeping there, you were not prepared to feel it so fully.
You pull away from Rhys at last, hands poking at your chest like you could somehow feel that well beneath your skin.
The darkness laughs from within you, from wherever the bottom of that ceaseless chasm may be, as if it’s wholly untouched. It doesn’t feel any smaller, it is still something wild and untamed, but it has not shrunk in the slightest.
“Y/N are you ok?”
You’d felt the burn, felt something tear out of you, how was this possible?
You dip into it, let your consciousness free fall, willing it to show you everything, whatever limit and chain Amarantha has slapped on you. But there isn’t one, the bottom still will not rise to meet you, it remains an empty, ceaseless void out of reach.
Rhys takes your face in his blood stained hands. “Y/N?!”
You finally drag your gaze up to his, the violet a striking contrast to the damage over his handsome face. “I want to make a bargain with you.”
He raises a brow, confused. You know you’re not making any sense right now, but the walls were sure to have ears this deep in the dungeons, and you have to be smarter from here on out. If Amarantha learns that you merely gave her back the fire you stole from her and not your own gifts, there will be hell to pay. And until you’re ready to pay it, you have to be careful, you need allies and confidants.
You reach up and tap a finger against your temple and he opens the door in your mind with a groan. You feel his headache in your own head.
“I want you to help me kill Amarantha.”
———————————————————————-
Tag List: @mariahoedt , @lovelydove , @twsssmlmaa , @sleepylunarwolf , @judig92 , @willowpains , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @annnaaaaaa88 , @myheartfollower , @uniquecolorwizard , @eternallyelvish , @waytoomanyteenagefeels , @lovemesomevesey , @localfangirl09 , @isa1b2h3 , @starswholistenanddreamsanswered , @slytherintaco
#rhysand x reader#Rhys x reader#rhysand ACOTAR x reader#rhysand x reader smut#rhysand x reader angst#UTM!rhys#ACOTAR#ACOTAR fanfic#ACOTAR x reader#datura fic#my writings#my fanfic#fanfiction
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Just some of my own TMA headcanons (I’m probably just gonna keep adding to the list on occasion or maybe make another list, who knows) - Edit I made another list which is a little more chaotic I won’t lie
Also I’m interested if people have any of their own that they’d want to add because I love reading other people’s x
There will probably be spoilers in this list but I’ll try to keep it broad :) x
Tim always wears short sleeves regardless of the weather
On the opposite Sasha always got a cardigan, she might not be wearing it but it’s stashed somewhere
Jon probably bit someone as a child
Martin had a folder on his work computer with pictures of cows in it
Sasha used to keep a picture of the four of them in her desk - Not Sasha got rid of it
Distortion Helen uses her hands a lot when she speaks
Elias irons his ties and then organises them by colour (They’re all the same colour but he claims the shades are different)
Martin and Jon used to play card games but Jon stopped once he realised he always knew what Martins cards were
Tim would wear those socks with the days of the week on them but would make a point of wearing the wrong socks on the wrong days just to annoy Jon
Martin likes to collect pin badges
Sasha’s definitely thrown a pen at Tim - She threatens to throw one at Martin but never would
Tim paints his nails on occasion and convinced Martin to do it a couple times, who in turn convinced Jon to do it
Specifically series 1 Jon had Martin for secret Santa and he have him a mug with a cow on it - Jon denied it every time he was asked
Martins the better baker but Jons the better cook -
Jon will tell everyone in the kitchen to get out if he’s cooking
Martin had a nightlight while sleeping at the institute and never told anyone but Jon found it once and replaced the batteries just in case they were close to running out
Distortion Helen seems like the kind of avatar to have a load of bracelets but those ones that make noise when someone moves their arm
Edit: I just wanted to say that I’m genuinely overwhelmed by the response to this because this is first time I’ve made a post like this of my own and people have been very lovely about it all and yeah this just my little soppy thank you for it xx
#tma headcanons#the magnus archives#these were so fun to make#I’ve started series five and I’m scared#the magnus archives memes#the magnus archives headcannon#this was my first time doing something like this#feel free to add more because I love these so much#I’m just gonna keep adding ones as I think of them#I love using tumblr to brain dump things because then I don’t have to explain the lore of characters for them to make sense#tma podcast#jonmartin#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#sasha james#tim stoker#tma shitpost
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Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...
Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.
1st time: Valentines Day
I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.
"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."
I can hear a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.
"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."
Footsteps draw nearer.
"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."
Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze. Eddie lies face down passed out 3 feet away.
"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.
"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."
Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.
"That would be for the best."
2nd time:
Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.
“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.
I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.
“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”
Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.
Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks
“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”
I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.
“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”
My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.
“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.
Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.
“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”
My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....
Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.
“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”
3rd time:
“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Faces favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”
Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”
“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.
Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.
“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s de office.
“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”
“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”
My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.
“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”
Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing again. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.
“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”
I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.
“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.
Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.
“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."
I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.
“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”
The two teens share a glance.
“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”
Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.
With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.
“See you later.”
I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.
#batfamily#batbros#batfamily x reader#batman#red hood x reader#batfam#red hood#tim drake#jason todd x reader#jason todd#robin x reader#bisexual
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And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence
Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)
A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.
Masterlist
Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @chiaraanatra
Chapter text:
Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.
“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.
Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.
“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”
It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.
“Nod if you understand me.”
You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy.
God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.
He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate.
Shit.
The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side.
It’s him.
You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat.
It’s Vigilante.
You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.
And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat.
“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”
“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”
“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”
You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.
He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.
“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.
“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”
Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.
“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.
“Quiet!”
“What?!” says the woman on the phone.
“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”
“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”
“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”
You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”
Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?
“Where am I supposed to take her?”
“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”
You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.
“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”
“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.
You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.
“Can I open my eyes?”
“Nope.”
You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.
His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.
“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.
“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy.
The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great.
“Can I-”
“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”
You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.
The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.
“Sit.”
You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.
“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself.
“You’ve got information and I need it.”
“I really don’t have any sort of information.”
He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”
“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”
His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older.
You shake your head.
“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.
“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”
“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.
“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”
He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”
You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.
“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”
“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”
You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”
“I-”
‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’
Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music.
“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists.
“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?”
You nod.
He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.
Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.
“Hey- don’t read my messages!”
“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.”
Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”
“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”
Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.
Oh, god.
He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit.
“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet.
“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask.
“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists.
“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”
“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”
He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”
“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.
Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”
“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.
He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”
“So what am I doing here then?”
“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”
Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.
You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.
“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.
“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”
You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.
“No.”
Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.
You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.
When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.
“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest.
“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”
“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.”
What are you doing?
The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you.
He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...”
“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”
He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.
“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”
“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”
Pretty.
You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.
“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”
“She’s not my boss.”
“Sounds like she is.”
“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”
“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”
“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”
You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”
“I thought you just got the coffee?”
“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”
“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”
You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.”
“The way you want me to trust you?”
“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”
He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.
“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”
“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”
“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”
“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.
“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”
Vigilante chokes on his beer.
“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”
“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.
“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump into Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”
This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”
“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”
He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”
“Which one are you reading?”
“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”
He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”
“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”
You sip your drink and say nothing.
Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.
You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”
“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”
“This is real life.”
“You know what I mean.”
You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”
He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”
You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.
“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”
“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.”
His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.
It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.
Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.
You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble.
“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock.
He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.
“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.
Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.
“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”
You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.
“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.
“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.
“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.
You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.
“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”
He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.
The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…
“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.
“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.
You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse.
“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits.
You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.
“Ow! Not so rough!”
He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.
But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?
Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.
“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”
“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.
“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”
“Vigilante.”
God damn.
You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything.
You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him.
He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.
“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.
You nod.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, Vigilante.”
He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt.
“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.
He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.
“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.
“Mhmm.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.
You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.
“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”
“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”
Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.
His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.
Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.
“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings.
The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”
Fuck.
He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.
“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”
Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.
“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”
You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.
“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”
He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips.
“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise.
“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.
Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.
His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.
“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”
And you do.
Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.
You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.
“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.
“You’re crushing me.”
“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”
With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.
He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”
You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”
“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”
‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’
Who’s phoning you this late?
He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”
Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?
“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”
Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”
“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”
His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”
“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”
“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.
“I dunno, like five grand?”
“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”
“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”
“Copy that,” he grins.
“Vigilante, what the f-”
He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.
“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”
“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Wait, you heard that?!”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Well not until you give me the laptop.”
“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”
He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”
You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”
He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”
You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.
The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.
“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”
“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”
She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”
“Thanks, boss. I love you.”
“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”
You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.
“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”
“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”
“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.
“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.
#vigilante x reader#vigilante#adrian chase x reader#vigilante peacemaker#adrian chase#vigilante x you#freddie stroma#fanfic#peacemaker#vigilante x female reader#adrian chase x female reader#adrian chase x you#adrian chase imagines#adrian chase x y/n
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