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2kmps · 1 month

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PERSIMMON & INK ; PT ONE OF TWO

yakuza!getō suguru x tattoo artist!reader| 1/2 | wc; 12.9k

story summary; you're a tattoo artist hidden amidst the bustle of shinjuku city and renown with tourists. due to a misstep of your shady employee, you're visited one night at closing by an eerily beautiful man in a disheveled suit and no tie requesting an intricate back piece done traditionally. the undertaking slowly begins to unthread your life piece-by-piece the closer you get to him until there is no way out.

story warnings; dark content, yakuza au!, details about tattooing, traditional tattooing (tebori), money laundering, injuries to mc, implied death of oc, manipulation, power imbalance, a bunch of cultish shit, mc doesn't fuck around and is a hardass + sort of a bully to their employee, sex w/ injury, getō smokes, mc dogging on foreigners, implied stalking, prose + detail heavy, explicit sexual content, heavily implied homicide, graphic details of violence + wounds.

read the warnings! + mdni! events within this story are not indicative of my personal viewpoints.

thank you @ceruleansol for your earlier proofreading efforts! appreciative, as always!

a/n: this is part one of two. i strongly implore that you reblog & interact with this post! it helps out authors tremendously when you do!

A silvery peal called out to the little shop stifled in past-midnight silence. During regular business hours, it was a good sound to hear; it meant that your next client had parked their feet through the threshold behind a closed door and jittered a bell hanging by a red string. In this case, you hadn't been fast enough to flick off the neon signage anchored into the building outside, nor set the deadbolt to signal the shop had retired for the night.

You were still hard at work wiping down your workspace, the last appointment of the night having taken several hours longer than intended with a squeamish foreigner who couldn't bite his knuckles long enough for you to finish linework on his ankle.

"It's past midnight. Come back some other time," you said, inflectionless, unwilling to be deterred in your task. It didn't occur to you to even give this newcomer the time of day by looking at them. "I have all my information online. Email for appointment bookings."

"Oh, really? That's too bad," replied the stranger, voice traceless of the frustration you were accustomed to when turning people away at odd hours. "I was told this would be a better time to come by for a consultation."

That made you jolt upright, swiveling toward the man standing inside your shop. Strangely, you hadn't anticipated the way he sounded when he spoke—affable, syrupy, and an elegant, fluid stroke on glazed canvas—to be so different from how he looked—tall, lean, refined with a sort of edge to him that'd intrigue anyone in a room he walked into.

Apart from his appearance, something you couldn't be sure was real with him bathed in the faint neon-red glow from flickering bulbs filtering in through the windows, you were drawn to the somewhat disheveled suit he wore. It looked like something a salaryman uniformed himself in while sitting on his ass for twelve hours in one of Tokyo's skyscrapers.

He doesn't have a tie. That stood out to you at this late hour.

"I didn't tell you that." You suspected who did and let your voice rise above the pitch of the checkered wall clock and drone of an oscillating ceiling fan directly above you. "Kōji! Get out here!"

From the depths of your little shop, tucked away in the furthest corner behind a door painted the same morose gray as the walls flanking it, there was a great ruckus—a chair tipping over, a body smashing to the floor, and feet fumbling over and over again until a weaselly fellow skittered out into the parlor.

"Ye-yeah? What's up? Time to—"

"Get this guy scheduled for a consultation for next month." Nothing prepared you for the way Kōji's color sank out of his cheeks and neck when you turned toward him. You pushed onward boldly, "I'm booked out for the next few weeks. Since you told him he could come by whenever, take responsibility and get him out."

Kōji's eyes were so much bigger, the whites of them showing, knuckles turning stark when his hand grasped your forearm, and he hinged forward at his waist, bowing so low you thought he'd fall forward.

"Thank you so much for your patience." Kōji sprung back up, feet popping into the air as he whisked you away into the back office, still repeatedly dipping his head to this man. "Please, give us a couple of minutes, and we'll be right with you."

"No worries." The suit guy smiled at you, catching your gaze before the gray door was pulled shut in your face. "Take your time."

Inside the dinky space, surrounded by unsteady towers of boxes brimming with all the things your second-floor apartment couldn't handle without making the walls burst at the seams, Kōji still had a hold on you. This time, however, both his hands gripped your arms, hot and clammy on your bare skin.

"You can't tell him to leave." Kōji hesitated to take any stance against you, any tone that could be implicated as threatening or domineering. Even through his quivering breaths, he tried to sound firm.

You looked at him incredulously, neck craning back in hopes it got the message across. It was easy enough to sweep away his hands. "The fuck, I can. It's my shop. Tell him to get out."

Kōji let his posture sag, whittling deep into himself as his fingers came together to pick at minuscule slithers of skin that left raw spots around his nails. He shook his head. "Not someone like him."

"Kōji—"

He was trying hard not to stick the underside of a fingernail between his teeth. A couple months ago, he had told you he wanted to kick the habit because he couldn't stand looking at his hands. This job and his natural disposition worked against him—long hours pouring over finances and bookkeeping, tucked away in a tiny room with a humming desk fan and no windows, would be enough to drive anyone's anxiety through the roof.

It wasn't ideal for him, you knew that, and suggested that he move his workstation around the shop or to the front-end counter as long as he didn't disturb the flow you kept going with clients. Worse than the isolation was his aversion to handling any potential customer interaction.

That's what made this so odd to you, so strange that he simply reiterated time and time again, "We can't kick him out," anytime you'd try to get anything else in word wise.

You had to back up, put some pressure against the new pulse in your temples. Kōji let his gaze flutter around the room, never steadying on your face for long enough for you to get a better read on him. His hair and neck were soaked with sweat. Beads of it dripped from his brow onto his shoes, leaving glistening, branching paths behind that never quite dried before more took their place.

It came to you then, just as a guess but one with enough certainty that dread wound itself against your spine and made you fidget.

"Is that—is he part of a gang?"

Kōji did a lot of work to keep his eyes off of you, still, lips thin and wet with sweat that he lapped away.

No confirmation was a confirmation—you launched yourself at him, wringing fistfuls of his stiff button-up until it was tight against him. You felt the heat of his body through the fabric wrapped around your hands.

He was shorter than the man in the parlor, but still taller than you. His feet stayed planted on the floor as you brought his face down to your height. "Did you fucking tell the yakuza about my shop, Kōji?! Is he here because of you?!"

"No, no! Not me! Not me!" Kōji wailed, crumbling beneath your bulbous stare. "Not on purpose! I swear! I swear! It was an accident. I was at lunch with… some friends, and I mentioned that I was working here. I guess word got around!"

"So, you're having lunch with criminals now?!" You wanted to wring his neck. It was physically impossible to bring yourself any closer to him without tasting the salty drops on his skin. "Are you insane?!"

Since the start of Kōji's employment years ago, you knew that he was a leery character, and having him on board to handle the more mundane, unsavory parts of running a business wasn't your best call to judgment. Still, he was efficiently organized in a way that made sense. He was fast and dedicated enough in doing things right that you stopped asking yourself questions about what antics he did on the side.

Up until now, he had never brought anything from the outside in to disrupt your status quo, the fine-tuned, well-oiled gears that kept your business running and clientele coming around like revolving doors. This was an entirely different ordeal, though, and you didn't know how to handle it.

You let Kōji whimper around your fists for a while longer, releasing him only once you were ready for a deep breath.

"I don't care." you said, taking a wide step away from him as your fingers scouted through all of the pockets on your person. There was one stick of gum left in your hoodie that went straight into your mouth. "I don't care. Stop being a fucking wuss and fix your mistake. Get him out of my shop."

Kōji gasped, scuttling closer to you just as his skinny, knobby knees bent inward and trembled. The weight of his body nearly toppled you when he went down to the floor, hands on your clothes. "No, no. Please. If you—if you turn him away, he'll tell the others, and who knows what'll happen to… us."

The selfish little imp actually meant himself.

It killed you to acknowledge that he wasn't wrong. You knew as much about the movements and customs of crime syndicates in Japan as anyone else, probably even less than the regular citizen, but they were still criminals with tight fists on the economy and underground.

All it would take is one bad remark and everything you had worked for would be razed to the ground.

"Who is he?" You pushed him off by the shoulders. "Who is that guy?"

You didn't like his silence, how his face warped, and his eyes fell to the white tips of your shoes. "Kōji."

Slowly, he answered, "He's the kingpin of the Uzumaki-kai."

"Goddamnit."

He stayed sniveling on the floor while you scrambled around the back office, turning over boxes and water-stained folders for particular papers you needed to go forward. Once you had them, you blotted the tip of an ink pen on your tongue, ripping a piece of white printer paper out from the tray and beginning a frantic scrawl that you weren't even sure was discernible.

You weren't in that room with Kōji for more than twenty minutes, reemerging into the parlor to find him—Getō Suguru, boss of the Uzumaki-kai—still waiting for you exactly where you'd left him. Only now, the smile he greeted you with was smug, shoulders lax against the door with one foot hiked up on it.

He had heard the entire thing, all of your shouts and Kōji's perilous pleas. The walls weren't as thick as you wished they were.

"You should find a different artist who specializes in the kind of work you want." you said, spreading your array of papers out on the front counter. The pen dotted your tongue once more before touching them, a messy signature left behind on black condemning lines.

"I've looked at your portfolio online." He had come closer, eyes set on the motions of your pen flying across paper. "It's the best I've seen in Tokyo."

There was something in his words that rang sweet and untrue. With Tokyo being one of the foremost tourist magnets in the world, attracting domestic business and foreign intrigue, competition amongst tattoo shops during peak seasons was staggering. You were part of the cluster of shops preferring to bring in international clientele because they were lured with anything quick and easy and cheap.

Simply put, they were your revolving door. Kōji monitored your shop's social media presence well, eyeballing analytics, trends, and patterns in the algorithm, so you stayed a persistent pest on the front page most days. Whatever moves he pulled worked, filled the books until you were writing in last second, twenty-minute appointments against the seams in your spiral bound to keep tabs.

You'd see anywhere from eight to twelve clients on the worst of days, most of them coming from overseas to tour the city or countryside. Every one of them chose premade designs from a catalog you kept nearby, all work you had committed to muscle memory and knew so well you could do the line work without a stencil and let your mind float somewhere else.

These foreigners wanted memorability, everlasting art imbued with stories from their exotic balmy summertime getaway where they stayed in air-conditioned hotels and shops and harassed the locals because it gave them a swell of adrenaline, a sense of adventure from the belief that they were in possession of more culture now than they had been before.

They tried to talk to you about those things because when they'd first see you, stepping under the chiming little bell, there was a brightness in their eyes of knowing you weren't someone who belonged—just like them. After so many years in the business, you were conversationally fluent in several languages but pretended not to be for all of two or three.

"I'll do it, but—" You pulled yourself from that reverie, pen flipping through your fingers for him to take. "You have to sign a bunch of waivers and there are conditions."

Getō had waited for you in well-tempered silence for several minutes and maintained that even now with a neutral expression. "Can you explain them to me?"

"The waivers are pretty standard," you said, shifting your weight against the counter. "The first three are making sure you understand the risk of scarring, infection, colors bleeding together. Fourth one is a liability waiver."

When you reached the final piece of paper buried beneath all the rest, the one you had handwritten and hastily signed, his eyes were gleaming with intrigue.

"What's this?"

There wasn't much to it, really, just a single paragraph on a bleach-white background, one blank line below your signature with enough room for a timestamp after it.

You made sure it was in his hand before you spoke again. "This is a rigid waiver agreeing that if I do your tattoo, you can't tell anyone you're associated with about this shop.

Getō wore an aloof smile. "What are you implying? I never said—"

"Stop trying to make me sound fucking stupid." You winced after the fact, not intending for it to have come out so aggressive. "Either sign it or leave, please. If anyone finds out you came here, it could ruin my business."

All but the ticking wall clock, a jarring neon against a backdrop of dark walls, and the ceiling fan with its monotonous beat from spinning blades had kept your shop from catapulting into silence.

You hadn't realized it until now, not until Getō had taken many long moments to examine the papers you'd given him and wordlessly signed them, that your chest was starting to ache from how hard your heart rammed your ribs.

You couldn't believe this was happening.

A snare formed in your throat once he finished printing the date and time on your special waiver, pen aside, papers stacked together as he tapped them on the countertop so they were neat.

He held them out to you, still with a beguiling smile that betrayed everything he represented. "Could I get copies? I'd like them for myself too."

You smeared sweaty palms down the back of your sweatpants, flexing out your fingers over and over until you felt sure enough that you could handle those papers without trembling. This must've been how Kōji felt when he had walked in earlier.

"I'll be back." Your bow was stiff and slight, probably an affront, but he let you go, turning to find a home on one of your low couches in the corner and started perusing the pages of your catalog displayed crookedly on an acrylic table in front of him.

It was all you could do to not slam the office door behind you, to intentionally scare the soul straight out of Koji's ass for putting you in this hard spot. If he weren't such an integral part of keeping this place afloat, you'd have fired him ages—years ago.

"I need copies," was everything you needed to say to make Kōji rifle through his arsenal of ridiculous expressions. He shrank under your stare, sliding deeper into his seat behind his desk. "You still need to be back here at eleven."

"Yes, I know." he mumbled, handing you fresh copies after stapling them together. You let the warmth sit on your hands for a while. "Do you want me to leave?"

Truthfully, you didn't want to be alone with Getō. You wanted to yell at Kōji a little more.

"Yeah. Get out of here."

And he ran.

A part of you hoped that Getō would've gotten bored with how long this entire process had been just to sign some flimsy agreements and listen to you pitch a fit at your employee. You prayed that the fleeting glance Kōji had made to the corner of the room was to check, not to confirm.

You stepped out into your workspace, boldly expecting to see it bathed in nothingness and shadows—but he was still there.

Getō let the tip of his shoe, a pointy closed-toe, jerk with the sounds of your wall clock. His leg was crossed, your catalog still splayed across his thigh as he looked at your preset designs, work made to appease the masses and feed into their fiction of Japan. You had half the hope that he'd be turned off by them and change his mind.

"What you're offering here and what's on your website are completely different."

This guy was observant.

You didn't like that.

"I get a lot of travelers." It crossed your mind to rip the book out of his hands. "They're the ones who make up the bulk of my business. My website hosts my professional work. It's what I prefer to do."

He didn't look up, continuing to leaf through the pages with long, lithe fingers. "So, you cater to foreigners, then?"

"My shop is small. It's just me and Kōji here. This place has to stay running somehow." You weren't sure why you were explaining yourself to him. "If that's something that bothers you, I can shred these papers, and you can find another artist."

Getō let his smile return, closing the catalog to drop it back onto the table. As though to challenge your stubbornness, he took the copies from you and skimmed them one more time.

"Thank you." He moved those aside too, now wholly focused on you. "Do you have time tonight to hear out my ideas?"

You were facing the wall clock now; it was almost two in the morning. If he wanted something more complex, it would take hours to work up a sketch for him. And that was being so bold to believe he'd like it on the first try.

"Got a deposit?" you asked. "Nonrefundable, of course."

He paid you what you wanted right then and there, to your complete astonishment. The price you had given him was astronomical, an act of spontaneity that you decided you'd pose to him as a joke if he got mad or guarded with severity.

No questions.

No doubt.

Just the warm clip of folded yen from his pocket that he didn't even look over. The yakuza were historically a stingy bunch, but he didn't even do a second sweep, didn't try to double back on you, and didn't seem to care.

"Let me get my stuff." You left the cash off to the side on the acrylic table. It was your equivalent of a cat showing its belly good-naturedly.

The money was still there when you returned with a tablet stuck under the sweat of your armpit and two mugs of tea, an act of hospitality you didn't often invoke mostly because you didn't care. These were dire circumstances, though, and you couldn't put it out of your mind (or nerves) that you were walking on thin ice laden with eggshells.

"It isn't anything fancy." You put your things down before handing him his mug. "It's from some random box I grabbed at the store."

Getō gave his thanks and took it from you, first sips coming as soon as he could bring his lips to it. He made no mention about the flavor or quality, didn't look at it with any amount of suspicion. It simply rested there against his palms while he waited patiently.

He was defeating every stereotype of yakuza that you had adopted from the movies and media. If it weren't for Kōji being a scummy little rat who liked hanging around trash in his off time and believing all of his reactions from a while ago, you'd be convinced that Getō wasn't affiliated at all.

A businessman with questionable practices, maybe, but not a greater part of the underbelly of society.

"It's a sort of complicated idea." He rearranged his legs so they were spread wide, back sinking into the worn green leather. Another sip. "Tell me if I should slow down."

True to his word, the tattoo he wanted was ambitious, terrifyingly ambitious, and something better left to a specialized skill set, not someone who bounced around between commercialized brand characters and bastardized interpretations of The Great Wave by Hokusai.

"I'd like the dragon to be white." Getō was partway through his explanation, now sitting forward on the edge of the couch, an elbow pointed down on a thigh to cradle his cheek. He was invested. "The eyes, hm, yellow or gold. You can choose what'd go best for the inside of its mouth. I want the head of it in the top left—"

"Hold on." You sighed, managing a lukewarm drink from your tea. "So, to go about the white, there are a couple of options: we leave that space empty, so it'll be your skin tone. Most people get dragons that are red or green or black. It'd be better to try that if you—"

"It has to be white." He looked at you the same, but his words were razored in a way so slight yet unmistakable. "What else can be done?"

"Well"—the leather creaked against your back the deeper you dug into it—"I could do white ink. I could get it opaque, but the problem with it is that it fades drastically; you'd need it retouched every couple of years."

"I see." His smile was wider. "I like that idea. Let's go with that."

You frowned. "You do know that white ink is expensive, right? So the price is going to jack up, and there's more pain involved since I'll have to apply more pressure."

"That's fine with me."

More specifics for the work he wanted flooded in: He wanted to start with his back, covering every bit of surface from his neck down to his tailbone. Afterward, he would branch out to both arms and finish the design over his breasts. It certainly aligned with artistry you've seen done by yakuza tattooists; the entire point of them was to be seen by those who mattered, easily concealed to those who didn't.

Most of the real estate was going to the white dragon with gold eyes first, the rest of it going to freestyle characters from fiction such as kuchisake-onna and religious iconography that he pursued with quite a bit of insistence.

You sketched until four in the morning, arranging characters and wispy, dreamy clouds. Long whiskers floated away from the dragon's snout, while the teeth you gave it were more comically blunt and human-like rather than jagged and threatening, a detail he seemed particularly delighted to see.

"What's with the Buddhist symbols?" You had to bring out your laptop to research those, settling on a few he gave a nod to. "Are you some kind of priest? This is a pretty specific scene you're giving me."

"It came to me in a dream." he said.

What a weirdo. Your fingers ached and cramped by the time you finished the draft, stylus leaving deep impressions in your skin that you were sure had knocked bone a few times.

From up close, you weren't too partial to how it looked like an amalgam of things surrounding all of the labor you put into specifics of the dragon, but when you moved it away, it came together like some hazy dreamscape.

"I should tell you why I chose you in the first place," was what he said when you spun the tablet around for him.

You had the device facing you again, pen notched through your fingers to apply some simple colors to the design. "I thought it was because you were enamored with me and my online portfolio."

Getō stared at you, humoring your joke with a smile even though you didn't see it. He stayed slouched over his thighs, fist moving to the side of his head to keep him upright.

"I'm looking for this to be done traditionally."

The tablet flattened on your lap, stylus rolling off of it onto the floor. You couldn't believe you didn't think of this. If he really was part of a crime syndicate, of course he would want all of the work done traditionally.

"That's going to bring in a whole host of problems." You let your thumb hover dangerously close to the trash bin button in the top right of the screen. "First of all, the overall cost of this is going up by twice what I've already quoted you."

"No worries." Getō shrugged his shoulders. "I've done my research."

But you weren't done. "Healing time will be reduced, but some of my clients have told me it's more painful than a machine."

"I'm not 'some' of those clients." he rejoined.

You were suddenly wishing your tea wasn't cold so you could disappear into it for a while. The tablet ran hot on your thighs, dragging your eyes back down to the drawing, thoughts flitting through what it'd mean for business, expenses in versus expenses out, and how committing to this would solidify you as a yakuza artist.

It would be inescapable and follow your reputation into the ground if Getō ever spread word about it.

"This back piece is going to take me a really long time to do for you. A machine cuts that time in half." Maybe you could beg him to change his mind.

He wouldn't budge. "Yes, I'm well aware."

"So"—fine then, you'd give him something to reconsider—"you know for the sake of longevity that traditional isn't going to be the best? Machines are able to apply more force into the skin and move faster. Because you'll be relying on me instead of a machine, your line work will start to bleed within a few years and your color is going to fade pretty significantly, too."

If he was dissuaded, Getō never let on because he grinned. "You were the right choice, after all."

That ended the discussion and your night. Your eyes felt dry in their sockets, rolling them towards the wall where you read a big black number “5” on its clear plastic face. Getō didn't share that same urgency. He hadn't even checked a watch or a phone the entire time he was with you.

"Remember," you said, your tone daring, "you signed an agreement to not tell anyone about this place. I expect you to keep your word."

"Of course. I wouldn't consider breaking it in my wildest dreams." Effortless and gentle, he said this to you with fondness that felt oddly misplaced. "After all, we prefer choosing our artists. And, now, you're mine. I'll see you soon."

You locked the door after him without saying anything, losing track of his body through the window as he went somewhere under the shadows cast by taller buildings close by.

This time, you made sure to flip off the neon signage that had been glowing outside all night long.

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The Uzumaki-kai had started out under a different name in the forties, one seemingly redacted from all publications shortly after the change. It had a tumultuous history with frequent power shifts and internal disputes that had left it nearly eradicated by the seventies until Yorimitsu Asahi climbed to the peak of the hierarchy. Within ten years, membership tripled, revenue increased into the billions, and nearly all records of their exploits had dropped off the edge.

Kōji had hit a dead end in his research for you, an attempt to give you some peace of mind in what you were dealing with. The idea was to hit the ground running, so when Getō came back around, you'd have some vague notion of what to expect. But all you were able to do was skim the surface of an, allegedly, power-hungry and morally depraved bunch of men and women.

The most recent details of their movements dated back two years ago, whereas the more credible sources haven't reported anything for nearly seven. In the earlier articles by a journalist gone undercover, they had a significant hand in the economy, mainly through casinos, prostitution, and ties to religious institutions.

You had to let out a groan because Kōji hit a wall—again. All of the latest news you could find were just sensationalist reprints about how they were actively scouting people, or giving charity to orphans, and where the yakuza ranked in the world amongst other crime syndicates.

"Hey." Getō was standing in front of you, just on the other side of your counter. "Ready to get this started?"

Snapping shut your laptop had been an instinctual response. A flush of adrenaline in your veins was chased away by the cold creep of fear reaching up your spine. This wasn't the same as mom catching you watching porn or a teacher hovering close enough to see you cheat.

This was the chill of knowing you were digging into things you shouldn't be.

"Wel—welcome back." You didn't mean it but bowed your head low anyway. "I never got a chance to schedule you in. It'll take me a while to set up, if you'd want to come back another day."

Getō had his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed just like the last time, and looked around the small square footage of your shop. It was big enough to arrange a few compact pieces of furniture in the corner, give breathing space for a couple of bodies in the middle while you worked on them, and the front-end counter where you sat.

You made use of decorative shelving to display all the things that customers wanted to see: bottles of ink, strange art, little trinkets to give the place some interest so you wouldn't have to be. Everything else was shoved into the back office to clog up Kōji's space or upstairs in your apartment where you could fit it.

"No." Getō took a walk over to one of the shelves, a collection of inks you had arranged by color family. "I'd like to start today. I can wait for you to set up."

"Okay." You licked your lips. "Yup. That's fine. Kōji!"

With Kōji's help, what would've taken you close to an hour to prepare for Getō was whittled down to about thirty minutes. Just one look and the smarmy guy took on a more diminutive attitude, convincing you that if you were to walk away and come back, he'd probably be spit-shining the tops of Getō's shoes.

At least he wasn't sweating all over the floor again. You could watch the fragile flattery without completely twisting in disgust.

"One thing you didn't do last time was confirm that you were happy with the sketch." You had Kōji fetch your tablet and bring it up to show him. "Also, I refuse to start unless you have payment upfront. That was something else we didn't discuss."

"Th–that's a joke." Kōji sputtered.

You looked straight at Getō. "You're yakuza asking me for an extremely elaborate piece done traditionally with a lot of white ink. I have a right to want to protect my time and resources."

"I agree. The sketch is perfect." Getō said, fluid strides bringing him less than a couple of feet away. "Do you prefer cash or card?"

You were seeing him in the daylight, not awash in flickering neon or shrinking away into shadows, and he was absolutely breathtaking. It made you think how easy it'd be to lure someone into the Uzumaki-kai by his looks alone.

Payment had been seamless enough, a quick transaction that Kōji verified before scuttling out of the shop for the evening. You were left with this man, this dangerous, handsome man, to undress in front of you, casually peeling layers of his suit away until the first slithers of pale skin sent your gaze to the instrument in your fingers.

Getō only removed his jacket and button-up since his back piece alone would take months to complete, a damning thing to realize once you thought about it.

This just felt too real.

This was really happening, and all you wanted to do was blame Kōji for putting you in this position.

"So, what you're going to do is lie down." You slipped on a pair of disposable gloves and gestured to the massage table behind him. A white sheet had been placed over the black leather underneath. "If you need extra padding, let me know. Since we're building this entire piece around the white dragon, that's what I'm focusing on for now."

He leaned his weight against the table, hands back in his pockets. You tried keeping your eyes off his chest, off of his defined pectorals and abdomen, away from the thickness of his arms. The knowing smile inching onto his lips proved that you had failed.

"I'm going to be using a projector to position the image on your back, draw it out with a marker, and start with the needles." You could finally show him the thing in your hand. It was a long glazed stick with a metal ferrule attaching a row of sterile needles at the tip. "You'll feel me stretch your skin and start poking. It makes a weird sound because of how it needs to be angled, how it goes into the skin."

You took a breath, and he actually laughed.

"That was a mouthful." He hinged forward, bringing his face closer to the rod. "Not quite as 'traditional' as I thought it would be."

"There are modern adaptations to everything. It used to be bamboo, this is made from persimmon." you said, lowering the instrument onto a silver tray next to all the others of varying sizes. "What makes it traditional is the technique applied. I guarantee your buddies aren't going to back-alley places in Japan and having someone stab their backs with unsterilized needles tied to a piece of wood."

His dark eyes followed your path to the projector, watching you flip the switch and cast an image of the dragon on the table. "You never know. Some of them just don't know any better. They don't always have the best show of judgment. They need guidance."

You had something to say to that but thought better of all your organs and didn't. "Cool. Get on the table so we can start."

The landscape of his back was as defined and lovely as the front of him. You waited until the white dragon was scaled down to the appropriate size and positioned over him to touch his skin, letting your fingertips soak up all his warmth.

"We'll see how far I get today," you were saying, dragging a narrow marker tip across the broad sprawl of him. "It's going to take me longer than it usually does, and I don't really go longer than eight-hour appointments."

"There's plenty of time." This guy had infinite patience, it seemed.

And when the time came for the first prods with your needles, you paused to ask, "Need a break? Want some background noise?"

"I'm talking to you," he said, pulling a few straggling pieces of ebony hair over his shoulder. "That’s enough for me." It sounded ridiculous when he said it and worse when it replayed in your head. "What made you want to practice traditionally?"

You were already in several jabs, wiping down between them to keep a visual of what you were doing. "My mentor is one of the best traditional artists in Japan. I learned everything from him. He used to work in Osaka, I'm not sure about now. I lost contact with him years ago."

"That's too bad." he said. "Have you thought about looking for him?"

The last thing you were interested in was talking about finding people with yakuza, so after a few more pokes along the middle of his back, dipping into that pretty region that made his waist look so waspy, you decided to flip the script.

"What about you? Did you just dream about joining a gang, or…?"

He shifted his cheek to his arms, looking along his nose at your hunched shoulders. "Would you believe me if I gave you an answer?"

You dabbed his skin. "Probably not."

There wasn't much of a lull in conversation before he was onto the next topic, steering away from the niceties onto the real things he wanted to ask. You had been around the block a time or two; you knew the look people got when they had certain questions stewing inside their heads.

The only thing that ever stopped them was the devastatingly desperate aversion to kicking up dust and drama in public, and probably because they weren't yakuza.

Getō was the opposite in this scenario, so you lost.

"Where are you from?" There it was.

You sucked in a breath. "Gifu prefecture."

"That's not what I meant." He was still observing you with all the self-possession of a saint, but also unflinching obstinance that you couldn't get out of by hijacking the conversation again. "You weren't born in Japan, were you? Isn't it pretty bold of you to play off foreigners' lack of awareness for profit?"

As you swiped at the traces of ink and blood that coalesced into a single ugly bead, you noticed he hadn't winced once the entire time you pushed ink.

Would he if you stabbed him a little harder?

"That's a long story." Stab. Stab. Stab. His expression remained beautiful and pristine. "I don't feel like answering it."

He smiled. "Hm."

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The game of twenty questions spilled over from one session into the next, weeks apart, yet Getō always remembered where you both left off like he was troubling himself to commit all the contents of a crumpled-up list to memory. Sometimes, between a peaceful interlude that rendered conversation bare, the flawless terrain of his back stretched between your fingers as your needles sunk deep, you'd think to yourself that had he been any other man—you'd be impressed by the effort.

Unlike other scenarios that leaned in your favor, boorish foreign men left unanswered when they'd talk about your body—where were you hiding tattoos? Under your clothes? Can we see? They'd laugh with one another because they almost always traveled in groups. Questions morphed into ugliness when they translated silence to incompetence; quips turned lewd and derogatory, but you no longer existed to them because you couldn't talk back.

That luxury of feigning ignorance wasn't packaged with Getō, having had lured that nugget of trivia out of you by the end of his first session. He never said those things about you, never let his inquisitiveness or eyes roam like you already had him. It was disgusting how being beneath his stare made you feel so vulnerable, stripped down to nothing but your underwear without that ever happening, without him ever having touched you.

You told yourself you'd be relieved the second this piece was finally finished, and he'd be gone from your shop for good.

"How long have you been a tattoo artist?"

But, still, for now, this little game with him continued, and he led the way.

"About ten years." No one had asked you that before, so it took you a few seconds for you to respond. Even then, you weren't entirely certain that was right. "Yeah, probably about ten years."

"Hm." Getō was in the habit of making that sound to quite a few of your answers. "You don't look it."

You jolted upright in your chair, fingers lifting away from his back just as you gave your tongue a reproachful click. All it would take would be one hard open-palm slap right against the sorest spot on his back to put him in a world of hurt and permanently fuck up the ink under his skin. You'd absolutely have your throat slit or neck snapped at the gallows, but it would be well worth the risk at this moment.

"What the hell is that—"

Getō's mellifluous laughter made your anger whittle to heat behind the ears before any words even made it out of his mouth. He tried keeping his back still. "Haha, sorry, that came out wrong. I meant: you look too young to have been doing this for ten years."

Good recovery. Smooth man.

You weren't nearly as amicable. "Aren't you too old to be playing pretend with a bunch of other guys?"

He let air out hard through his nostrils, lips pulling his smile wide enough for you to see the wet glisten on his white teeth.

"Fair enough."

Time crept along like that for the pair of you, multiple sessions coming and going with inconsequential banter that was always more upsetting to you than it ever was to him. Somewhere along the way, you had been convinced that Getō was unflappable—impossible to rouse to anger, regardless of the times your clap-backs had taken a personal edge, aiming to bury deeper than any of your needles could reach.

It was enough when he'd frown, his pretty mouth pressed firm and drawn down. Oddly, when he'd look at you like that, it was reminiscent of something wholly unsettling, pulled from some deep recess in your memory that you couldn't quite put a finger on until it happened again one evening.

You had taken things a bit too far, reminding yourself that it was better to keep your distance from him. All it would take was one wrong comment on one bad day for this rapport to come crashing down on you with every bit of the same force as a tsunami, ruining everything you had built.

Getō had decided he needed a break, something uncharacteristic in the months you had spent with him as your client, and got up from the table. He couldn't go far without covering his back, so he stayed wedged between the inside and outside, trapped in the door and setting off the delicate, jangling bell overhead more times than you were comfortable with.

He had looked at you before walking away, though, that frown marring his visage, weighing down his beauty with cavernous shadows around his mouth. You acted like Kōji in that moment, feeble and pathetic, withering into a smaller version of yourself so maybe he'd show mercy.

Between those tense minutes, until he returned to the massage table, you figured out what made his disapproval so familiar.

It was like burdening the weight of a disappointed parent, like knowing you had failed another test in school, and your teacher was delivering results with that same sort of dissatisfaction while peeking over their glasses at you.

You felt like you were being reprimanded in the way only someone with influence on your life could have.

It really rubbed you the wrong way.

"Sorry." It was a hard word for you to say. Getō was on his stomach again, cheek pressed atop his arms so he could look at you. "Sometimes, I get carried away. Guess that's what I get for spending all my time with Kōji."

Cue a loud sneeze from the back office.

His placid smile was a relief to see. "You should get out more often and see other guys."

There was no disputing that fact. Besides your mainly male clientele, Kōji was the only man you were in any regular contact with. Life had a way of keeping people apart, widening the gaps of time from months into years, wearing away at those delicate threads of friendship until they were all but frayed and irreplaceable.

It was simply the natural progression of adulthood, and it was boring and terribly lonely. Tattooing made your life easier, numbed you to becoming just another downtrodden drunk hunched over a glass full of glowing gold, lusting after the bare minimum of affection from anyone.

This job kept your head above water, just enough so you could forget all of that and spend your time exactly how you wanted to—

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

His question hit you full throttle, stealing the breath from your lungs as though he had landed a fist into your gut. It was just a few nonchalant words, an easy way to keep the conversation flowing, yet it had set your heart aflutter. You heard the rhythm of it ricocheting in your skull. It was suddenly so much harder to hold his skin taut, fingertips slipping inside the nitrile gloves you wore.

"A boyfriend?" A word that sat heavy on your tongue, unfamiliar, flustering you. "I don't have the time for that."

Getō shifted on the bed, something he usually didn't do without warning you beforehand. You let him get situated, taking that moment to also change your gloves beneath the table after patting them dry on your thighs. The skin around your fingertips had swelled and indented from moisture, further augmenting agitation.

He was gazing ahead now, narrow chin cradled in a slot made by his fingers. You couldn't tell what he was looking at since you kept so much stuff mounted on the walls to detract attention from you. It could've been anything.

You did think his vision aligned with your catalog of preset designs, though, leaving you just a little more self-conscious than his question had already made you.

When he did say something, his smile didn't quite reach how despondent he sounded, "It seems like no one has the time anymore. We've all lost our way."

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Getō came by astonishingly early one day with the earthiness of a good brew wafting all around him. The shop had been open less than an hour, giving you just enough time to unlock the entrance and flip on all the signage before he walked in.

The little bell signaled him, both your eyes and nose lured by the cheery sound of it as well as the scent. You had expected to see Kōji at first; it wasn't unlike him to show up before his scheduled shift. Years of cubicle servitude had a way of battering people into automated drones. Workers like him might as well have been walking on conveyor belts their entire lives—going somewhere without actually getting anywhere.

Kōji also only survived off of his thirty-two-ounce thermos sloshing with coffee. Sometimes he'd share with you so you wouldn't need to deplete the shop's supply or climb two flights of stairs to your apartment to make some, but more often than not, he was halfway through that gigantic flask by midafternoon.

So to see that it was Getō taking languid strides up to your counter with two coffee cups, palms wrapped around slithers of cardboard to keep his skin from blistering, you had to correct a grimace.

"Getō." You used his name tentatively, always sparingly. It tasted unwelcome on your tongue, like the smoky bitterness of charred meat or the tang of vomit that burned through your nostrils and made your mouth salivate. "I didn't have you down for today. I have other clients coming in later."

"I'm sure they don't mind rescheduling." He smiled as usual, but the finality behind his words sent quakes down your spine. "I don't know how you take your coffee, so I just asked for cream and sugar. I'm more partial to tea, but sometimes it just doesn't give the kick I'm looking for."

You meticulously avoided his fingers as he handed over one of the cups. The lid was marked with your initials, an act of thoughtfulness you would've been moved by had he—once again—been anyone else.

For Getō, he simply watched you with a tired, satiated smile as though the very notion of buying you coffee was worthy of some ovation. For you, seeing those black lines smear and spear outward across the white lid as dainty wisps of steam escaped wherever they could felt damning.

"How is it?" he asked, lips caressing the lifted rim of his own beverage. "You can be honest."

He sipped at the same time as you, pacing himself so your cups tilted simultaneously, eyes locked on tight, evaluating your slightest flinch. A hot trickle reached your tongue and crawled down your throat, feeling as though it were blooming out into your lungs and veins. It was known by him as well, like sharing the same experience, tipping the same cup and tasting those faint traces of one another, emulating warmth against your lips and in your mouth, lessening whatever uneasy longing he had started to spur inside of you.

You didn't know if the shudder that rattled down along your back came from the penetrating depths of his dark eyes or the bitter drink sinking into your cheeks, making you pucker.

Time forwarded for you again after that. The wall clock continued its eternal rotation, bustling bodies passed your shop, and you had lost those few seconds as though trapped in a dream.

"Did I add too much sugar?" Getō acted the same, perfectly pleasant smile seeming more like a fastened feature to you these days. "You sort of winced."

You set the cup down, ducking away from the front counter to collect your things out of the back office.

"It was actually too bitter for me."

Kōji came through the threshold about an hour later with some semblance of urgency, nearly knocking the door wide enough for it to slam into the wall. All of the color bled out of his cheeks, leaving his face a ghostly hue once he realized he was on the receiving end of Getō's stare. You were hunkered over his back, hands at work with the long stick and needles.

"If you break something, it's coming out of your paycheck." you drawled, so thoroughly enveloped by the black tracks left behind from your ink that you didn't notice Kōji's uneasiness turn into dewy skin and a beading forehead.

"I—can I talk to you in the back for a second?" Kōji hung onto every word, testing the sound of them while gauging Getō's quiet expressions. "There's—you need to see something."

"Kōji, seriously?" You didn't think you needed to point out Getō, or the fact that you were pulling ink from a glob on your glove. "Just tell me later, dude."

His face stretched as though wounded. "It's important. I swear. I wouldn't be asking if—"

"Is there a reason why you can't say it in front of me?" Getō had his nose pointed at Kōji, arm turned red beneath his cheek as he simpered. "Nothing's stopping you from telling us both right here, right now."

The scrawny man melted into himself, fingers fiddling together in a brave attempt to keep his teeth off of his nails and open sores on his cuticles. Whatever thing he had wanted to say was abandoned in that moment, stifled in his throat by a few words from the man on your massage table.

Your fingers halted, hovering over Getō's back as you took in the tone of his remarks to your employee, contemplating with a frown to threaten to throw him out.

"Don't talk to him like that." The leather underneath you groaned as you sat up straight on your stool. "This is my shop. You're not going to disrespect my employ—Kōji!"

He had already rushed away behind the somber gray door into the back office.

"Kōji!" You swiveled away from Getō, instrument an afterthought on the silver tray at your side. Seconds later, you swung back around. "You need to leave."

Getō, who had watched the entire thing from his arms, suddenly lifted his head and shoulders up, face weighed by surprise.

"What?" His eyes were wide. "Come again?"

You didn't falter. "Get the hell out of my shop. We're done for today."

His confusion mellowed into something undefinable, an expression you couldn't read with eyes that tracked across your face as though trying to catch a bluff. Nothing familiar remained in his gaze, the cold snare he held you in for several seconds, the depths of him black as coal and empty. For those few beats, until he looked away, you had held your breath without realizing it and heard blood gushing in your ears.

"You live in the apartment above here, right? On the second floor?" Getō still had his back to you, fingers fussing with the buttons on the front of his white shirt. "You should be careful."

Every ounce of courage you had gathered just moments before was suddenly sucked dry, stolen from your bones and spine, making your posture crumble on the stool. Dread wrapped around you like freezing, creeping tendrils that made the fine hairs on your neck stick out, put a knot in your throat that might as well have been his fist.

"How—how do you know that, Getō?" You were halfway out of your seat, fingers resting against cool metal and close to your arsenal of needles mounted to persimmon dowels. "Are you watching me?"

"Mm, not quite." He turned around while finishing the last buttons, expression void of that easygoing smile and mirthful glint in his eye that you had come to rely on from him. Without it, it was like you were freefalling into the unknown without a net to catch your back. "You should fire that assistant of yours soon."

"Kōji?" You had thought that same thing many times, but hearing it from someone else was an insult. "He's been here for years. He does his job. Who do you think you are to come in here, harass my employee, and tell me to fire him? This is my shop. Before you're anyone, you're a client who I have every right to refund and turn the fuck away."

"I suppose that's true." Getō said, rounding the table, coming into such close proximity to you that you could smell faint remnants of coffee on his clothes and breath, saw the late morning glow filtering in through the windows give his eyes a golden glint. "It's only a suggestion, but you should take it. I don't want to see you take the fall for things he meddles in."

You frowned. "What does that mean?"

He showed you one of his good-tempered smiles instead of answering, an easy way to stop the conversation before it could snowball into something else, dragging you deeper into his world more than what you already are.

There was a part of you convinced that he wanted to submerge you into that gross underbelly with him all the way, steal you below the surface, take you away from everything you'd ever known. But when the light would return to his eyes, just like now, and he looked upon you with such fondness, trying to smother your inquiries with lips pressed thin and tight so as to seal all his secrets behind them, you weren't so sure what his intentions were.

Some of his weight was suddenly on your shoulder, collected in the palm of his hand cradling the roundness of it. His fingertips pushed into the fabric, pressed divots into your skin and burned where he squeezed.

"Take care of yourself." Getō said, surprising you one last time by using that same hand, the very peaks of his knuckles to skim your cheek on his way past. "I'll see you soon."

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Firing Kōji was never an option, no matter what he involved himself with after work. There would be no business for you to spin signage for in the mornings, a studio to keep tidy, leather chairs to polish and preserve, and no stuttering neon light to bask under in the late hours of silence before returning upstairs to your bed.

Long ago, you had decided it made more sense to simply not see what didn't involve you directly, what didn't benefit you, because it was easier than acknowledging that the person you'd chosen to run everything in the background probably wasn't ideal. You'd known for years that his dealings outside your shop erred on the wrong side of the law, most likely, but it didn't matter as long as you didn't have to know exactly what it was.

As long as no one found him out, traced his employment to your tattoo shop, and turned your revolving door of clientele into thin, dwindling trickles, you'd force yourself to forgive him for whatever misdeeds he committed. He came into work on time every single day with his coffee flask and messenger bag, made no complaints about his workload and worn-in swivel chair that sometimes squealed when it turned, and didn't try to usurp the business from you.

He was the perfect employee and still was, even weeks following the incident with Getō. Every attempt you had made since then to get information out of him about that day was thwarted, distracted by numbers, stock invoices, client bookings, and asking if you wanted yakisoba from the little old lady down the road for lunch.

Kōji had decided you were untrustworthy now, a fact you were well aware of and unsure of how to handle. Less because he was your only employee—and, regrettably, the closest confidant you had in your life at all—but more that the entire ordeal left you uneasy and bothered.

He was doing something he shouldn't be, and Getō already knew about it and where you lived. Things weren't adding up, and you were the only one left in the dark.

One Sunday afternoon off left you with plenty of time to mull it over while packing around armfuls of groceries. A mid-autumn breeze was fabricated by cars passing through the city, throwing your hair in disarray, catching crisp bursts of air under your collar to leave you colder than you had been seconds ago. Your body was lulled into a relaxed state from the wind rocking your body left and right, pulled by the invisible force of it.

Your eyes stuck to the crosswalk sign, waiting for it to turn green, for the cluster of scuttering bodies to trot their way across and clear the area so they weren't stranded there until the next rotation. Their idle chatter hardly registered to you while you stood there next to them—colors of clothing, small domes of umbrellas, the drone of passing car engines felt so far away and surreal to you.

Everything seemed to vanish except your heartbeat when the light finally changed, eyes drifting down toward something that had an inexplicable pull on you, first as a slither of all black that grew tall and eventually into the shape of a body. You felt like you were searching through a sea of pines for that one glimpse at something that had caught your attention.

It was then that you realized what had you so engrossed was the unfaltering stare of another. You nearly collided with a man in a beige coat two feet ahead of you when you saw that it was Getō standing at the other end of the crosswalk.

Why is he here? Is he following me? You didn't give yourself the time to ruminate before ducking low behind a group of teenagers eagerly discussing their new idol obsession. A couple of the girls were in gyaru fashion, something you'd expect on a day trip to Harajuku, not on the west side of Tokyo near Shinjuku.

They paid little mind to you lingering entirely too close to them, using the shelf of a boy's shoulder to hazard a peek out at the scene until you had reached the end of the crosswalk with them. They dispersed in all different directions, sharing casual partings before you could think of where to go next, legs suddenly snared to the concrete when Getō called out from nearby.

"Hey, what a coincidence to see you here."

"Is it, really?" You tried remembering where you were in Shinjuku.

The red-light district, Kabukichō, the typical yakuza stomping grounds, wasn't far from here. It was one of those things that was easy to forget once the novelty of living in the area wore away, but it always meant something to someone else. That group of kids flashed in your mind briefly. It might've been their first time exploring a place like Shinjuku by themselves.

Getō came closer with his hands buried deep in his pants, the other half of a black sweatsuit that was too large for his frame. You tried to keep your eyes moving around a thinning crowd, steeped in uncertainty of how different interacting with him on the streets would be to piercing his back with needles.

"Are you heading home?" He saw your discomfort before the bags on your arms, his tone softening in the same way you expected it would for a frightened animal. "Do you need help carrying—"

"Hey, Suguru!" Another man showed himself through the intermix of bountiful bodies, his shape hidden beneath similarly slouchy, loose folds of clothing. His voice carried a similar pitch as the other, albeit inelegant and insouciant, with a head that was fully white and eyes so terrifyingly blue you guessed he had to be mixed with something.

For those few seconds you spared him a glance, you were set awash in a sensation of familiarity—a distant type of it. The same sort you'd expect to have while watching a movie with the appearance of an actor that startled you because you knew you had seen him from somewhere, but you couldn't place just exactly where.

If it hadn't been for his petulant seeming disposition on arrival and slothful bearings that ruined his posture and any semblance of class based on his bizarre, exotic beauty—you would have thought he was a model or someone of status, at the very least. His voice was annoying, however, and somewhat nasally as he complained about being left behind when Getō had noticed you skulking from afar.

Getō handled him benignly, almost disinterestedly, despite all of the speaking that coalesced into something even you stopped caring about. You made up your mind to use the distraction as a way to get out of this brush in public, spun on rubber soles, and almost began away until Getō broke apart from him and took the straps on one of your bags.

"Hold on"—he didn't let go despite how your features purposefully deformed from his nearness, a brazen attempt to look ugly to him—"you're a long way from home. Let me carry a few bags to help you out. Gojō, I'll see you around."

"Whaaaaat?! Seriously?" complained the other, making a whale of a noise that didn't match his relaxed stance. His bones seemed to collapse into the heaps of fabric he had stuck his arms through that day.

You tried putting opposite pressure on your bag to reclaim it from Getō, though he got what he wanted in the end. "I don't want to trouble you. I can carry these myself."

"It's no trouble." Getō insisted, still with obscene patience that overwhelmed your dogged determination to avoid causing an awkward shift between the two men.

As it was natural in Japan, jumpers and coats and pretty umbrellas wove through your motley bunch without being too distracted by the scene. They all had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, however truly inconsequential their destination was. It would've demanded too much of their concentration and willpower to look at everyone who made a ruckus in the streets of Shinjuku, but maybe they paid a little more attention because Getō and Gojō were beautiful, and you were like the hapless protagonist in a drama.

In that moment, however, you felt equal parts unfortunate that Getō bunched his long fluid strides to shorter ones to mime the pace of yours as he walked away from Gojō alongside you, all but two of your bags on his arms, and equal parts secretly enthralled by the experience and that you had been chosen over whatever former objective the two men shared.

"What was the point of us coming to Shinjuku if you're just leaving me here?! You suck!" Gojō's voice was carried by the false autumnal breeze whirled up by cars and gas exhausts, loud and strange because the urgency behind it had dropped off long ago. Now, it just sounded like he was calling after you both in casual parting like someone would from their doorstep down the road.

On that same fake wind, somewhere farther away but still close enough to see the uneven tips of Gojō’s white hair fluttering out away from his scalp, you could've sworn you heard the shape of your name—the pronunciation of it unmistakable—with all the same inflection Getō uttered when using it with you, weaponizing it so your ears would perk and be forced to hear him.

"I'm not doing any more of your tattoo until next week. I hope you know that." You had walked most of the way with him back to the studio. Seas of somber, dark concrete crosswalks with white lines and faceless beings in sometimes nice clothes had shrunk from a hearty basin of converging intersections to a gentle downstream trickle of interweaving streets that housed residences and hidden businesses. "Sunday is my only day off. I don't make exceptions for anyone."

Getō stayed with you the entire time, his movements a little more sluggish than you were used to seeing since you didn't have the same leg reach as him. He could probably open up his arms and touch buildings on either side of the street with the blunt nails on his long fingers.

You wondered, briefly, to your shame, if he could wrap himself around you twice if you were to do it first.

"I know," he said, an affable smile in his eyes and curved onto his lips. The look of him grew even brighter when he noticed you were staring, your face blemished by creases and lines and uneasy, fluttering eyeballs that conveyed your distrust and intrigue all at once. "What? You don't believe me? My back is still healing from the last session. I think you went deeper with the needles than previous times. It's taking longer."

You probably did bury ink deeper into the pretty flesh on his back because he upset your employee—your only employee, your safeguard to a successful business.

"Remember, you signed a waiver about infection. If there's too much redness and swelling, you should get it looked at." It wasn't often any interest to you to give unsolicited advice outside the shop, but Getō was your special exception. "I'm not going to touch your back again until that's completely ruled out. Besides, the dragon is done, so now we're just adding all your weird folklore and buddhist iconography."

"Hard to believe we've made it all these months." he said, now standing with you outside the building you rented for your studio and second-floor apartment. Despite the nylon straps on his arms digging cavernous divots into his black sleeves, he didn't act as though he were carrying around bags of lead like you felt you with yours. "I couldn't have chosen a better artist. I wasn't lying when I said your online portfolio was one of the best I'd seen in Tokyo, by the way."

What he said still sounded so sweetly untrue, but you unlocked the old door with a grimy brass key and let him inside to take his shoes off in the entryway and climb the stairs behind you to the second floor.

"I never have guests, so I don't really have anything for you. Coffee? Tea? Water? I may have some orange juice left." Every inch of tiny countertop and kitchen floor was swallowed by plastic totes and your bodies. It didn't occur to you at that moment to try putting some things away first to make more room, so you stumbled through the mess for your one-cup coffee machine that doubled as your tea kettle. "Sorry for the mess, I guess. I spend most of my time working, so I don't get the chance to clean up very often."

Getō betrayed no emotion, didn't seem afflicted in the slightest by the state of your apartment, and kept the curl of his smile fastened all the time. "Tea is fine. I'll just take whatever is easiest for you."

Minutes later, he politely sipped from the rim of your favorite mug, one hip implanted into the edge of the counter, staved off from helping you unload your groceries because you told him it'd be weird for a yakuza boss to do that. He still tried to take some boxes of stuff and stick them in your cabinets when you weren't looking, though.

“Did you tell that guy about me?” The sound of your voice, sudden and suspicious, was enough to startle Getō into a wide-eyed stare. He asked you what you meant, so you told him, “That guy back at the intersection you were with. Who was he? He knew my name. I saw him. Is he one of your gang friends?”

The alarm sank out of his expression, tension in his shoulders along with it. Despite the severity of your questions, he barely seemed to register them seriously and resumed stacking things on shelves to clear the countertops.

“Getō.” you pressed.

“No.” He closed the cabinet once he finished and came to you, undaunted by the obstacles spaced out on the floor. “I didn't tell him about you. I've kept my word. He's an annoying shit who likes snooping around my business.”

“Then, how did he…”

You receded into your thoughts, now trying harder than before to recall who that man was. His identity was tilted there on the edge of your memory, one word or phrase or image away from awestruck revelation. When it finally happened, seconds later, Getō was in front of you, heavy hands on your upper arms as though keeping you upright, and face bright with intrigue.

“Wait. Wait. Wait!” You cried out. “Gojō as in financial Gojō? As in one of the richest families in Japan, Gojō? Gold spoon baby Gojō?”

Getō gave a jubilant laugh as though delighted by you figuring it out on your own. His hands rose higher on your arms, capping your shoulders in warm weight that felt as refreshing as it did unusual. You couldn't remember the last time someone had touched you like that.

“He's my best friend—my only one. I'm not surprised he was able to figure out I was getting work done at your shop.” He said lightly, but doing nothing to assuage your doubt. “I know you don't believe it, but he's good to know if you need help. I'll give you his number so you—”

“I don't want it.” you said with feeble resolve. “It’s already a pain in the ass enough to have yakuza hanging around all the time. I don't need some trust fund baby to know where I live, too.”

Your heart wasn't in those words, finding that all you could concentrate on was the space of his palms encapsulating your shoulders, deft fingers leaving marks in your clothes as though trying to feel your skin through fabric. He didn't allow himself to roam you, but the taut muscles in his hands revealed a sort of composed restraint that was close to snapping.

He said your name once; a low, raspy sound in his throat that seemed so much like him yet unlike anything you had heard leave his mouth before. His eyes were darkened by his lashes, mesmerizing you in some dreamlike haze that only intensified when he stooped his head to kiss you.

His lips found rhythm with yours; slow, at first, to test the feeling and how much either of you actually wanted this. You responded with quiet sounds, a sigh and a moan, followed by the spread of your arms reaching around his neck to bring him closer, feel him more.

Getō backed your body against the countertop and leaned forward on his hands behind you to press down harder into the kiss. The blunt edges of your fingernails dove through black downy hairs on the back of his neck, trailing further down the ridges of his spine, molding to the ridges of his vertebrae that pushed up below the surface of his skin.

Goose flesh marked him all over, breath stuttering in your mouth like he was stifling pleasurable sounds of his own. You expected more self-control from a man of his status, yet there he was melting into you and sucking the air from your lungs while tasting your tongue with the roughness of his.

There was an ache between your legs, unabated heat which you had forgotten could be stimulated by another person. You weren't ashamed to take care of yourself when the need arose, although even those instances were far and few between and lacked this same urgency—this need to have another person wrapped up in you, touching you, devouring you.

You thought about how bad of an idea this was, how Kōji would react if he knew how weak your willpower truly was. It made sense to expect someone like Getō to exert his influence over you like this, for him to give into his every impulse without fear of consequence because there simply was none for him. He was above needing to restrain his inhibitions if that's what he wanted in the end.

“I can make you feel good.” He said apart from your lips, now pressed into the underside of your jaw after stretching out the neckline of your shirt. “Tell me what you want. I'll do it. I've wanted you since the beginning.”

What would happen if you told him to strip off your pants and get on his knees? Would the kingpin of the Uzumaki-kai obey someone lesser and bow and swallow the nectar from your body? Would he laugh at your brazen attempt, call you a wretch and drag you away for trying to make a mockery of him?

“Just… touch me.” Those words were not your own.

“Where?” Getō’s hands left the countertop to pile underneath your shirt, hands a light caress against the skin on your lower back. The heat of them made you flinch. “Here? Tell me where you want me.”

Something about this was too surreal, stirred unease in your chest and hundreds of quivering butterflies in your gut. It had come on as suddenly and dimmed the lust in your groin, lifted the fog from your eyes and cotton in your brain. It left you pliant in his arms, yet far away in mind as you searched those deeper recesses of yourself for an answer.

Getō noticed the disconnect and passionless kiss, your lips barely taking shape against his, and lifted his hands off of you.

“What's wrong?” He asked.

“I—” Something about you. “I don't know. This is just unprofessional. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it.”

There was still darkness in his eyes, emotions shimmering through them despite an effortless smile he secured on his face. It was an eerie mask this time around, but your vulnerability and reddened, bruised neck kept you from saying anything on it.

“I should be the one apologizing.” Getō said with that unshakable calmness of his. “I didn't have the intention to push myself on you. I just thought…” He tilted his head a little left, tempting you to lean with him. “I thought we wanted the same thing.”

You couldn't answer that truthfully because then this would never end and he'd wind up in your bed. Had he been any other man, you'd have stripped him down to nothing and let him ravage you as he said he would.

But, you couldn't because he was your client.

You couldn't because of who he was.

You couldn't because he liked to keep his secrets close to his chest, and while you had your neck exposed—warm, sucking lips at your jaw and on the small swells in your throat when you'd swallow—you realized you couldn't trust him not to sink his teeth in and rip out gore and stringy sinew and let you bleed out on the floor.

He knew that distrust, had probably seen in everyone he’d ever known, yet he kept that smile which had grown stiff.

“It's not a good idea, Getō.” Because there's something off about you. You're a wolf masquerading as a shepherd. “Of all people, you should know that.”

Getō said nothing else as he was led downstairs and let out into the brisk evening air. Briefly, you worried he would feel the chill through this baggy sweatshirt and had to think better of fetching him a scarf for the trip back to wherever he belonged.

You stayed behind the door near the stairs, leaning through it far enough for him to reach out and stroke your face with the peaks of his knuckles. It was a fleeting touch, perhaps an attempt to not overstep as he had before.

And then, just before he pulled away, he said something familiar, “I'll see you soon.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━

a/n: so i started this project late last year, i think. i put it aside after i started working on my original android x reader oneshot (which is posted and y'all should read it *hint**hint*) but i'm picking this back up to finish it.

originally, i was going to post this in its entirety once it was finished (est. 20k-22k), but decided just to get this out of my face and do the other half separately. if y'all wanna see the second half and conclusion to this please reblog and interact with this!! if i don't really gauge any interest in it, i don't really see the point in putting my time into finishing it.

the second half has the sex scene and all the drama and stuff.

anyway, deuces!

2K notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Gif by the amazing @pedropascalsx

September Part 2

Firefly Hospital, 2024

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

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

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

word count: 16.6k+

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

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

20 Years After the Outbreak

He can’t fucking believe it.

He’s at a loss.

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

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

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

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

There has to be another way.

He has to find Ellie.

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

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

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

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

She sighs, shaking her head.

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

“Get up,” the Firefly says.

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

Get a weapon, find Ellie

His mind chants.

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

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

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

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

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

From the scrubs she’s wearing and the scalpel, he thinks she’s some kind of doctor. Her hair is hidden under a surgical cap, her face obscured with a mask covering half of it as if she’d left in the middle of an operation.

She’s bending down and picking up the gun, tossing it to him when she straightens, Joel catching it easily.

“Who are you?” he asks.

There’s something familiar about her eyes, but he can’t place who she is, not sure who the fuck he knew who’d be all the way out here and willing to risk their life for him, his brain coming up with no one.

For one hopeful second, even though he knows it’s fucking impossible, he thinks it’s Tess until the woman speaks, her muffled voice dashing his hopes, “No time to chat,” she says. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline, all of the confusion and disappointment being replaced with hope once more.

“You know where she is?” he asks.

“Yes,” she answers, nodding. “Follow me. Your stuff is down this hall.” She points behind her. She’d discarded the scalpel, pulling a handgun from the back of her pants. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Leaving without another word, Joel is hot on her heels. Questions could wait until Ellie was safe, keeping his guard up and on alert, fingers itching to kill these assholes. Down the hallway, she shows him where his things are on a counter, him quickly putting on his backpack, their weapons drawn as they start moving, him covering her back.

“We’re turning up here,” she whispers. “Two guards—need to get to the stairwell.”

“Copy that.”

Eerie calmness washes over him, his brain working to figure out their next moves. She stops at the corner, glancing around it. Her head turns toward him, nodding, then she steps out, two shots ringing out. Joel sees the Fireflies crumpling to the ground as he follows.

“Clear,” she says, stuffing her gun into her pants as she goes to one of the bodies to take their semi-automatic rifle. Joel does the same, impressed with the clean headshots.

“Who are you?” he asks again, taking up point behind her again with the bigger gun.

“We’ll worry about that later, Joel,” she answers, already on the move.

“How’d you know my name?”

“Ellie,” she replies. “But I’d never forget Joel Miller.”

Does she know him? Does he know her? His eyes had trailed over her body for any kind of clue, but he came up empty.

“What’s your name?”

“That’s not important,” she says. They’re approaching the stairwell. “Ellie’s on the top floor, far end. The place will be littered with guards. They won’t hesitate to kill you, so show no mercy.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he grits out. “Would burn this fuckin’ place to the ground if I could.”

“I’ll bring the gasoline. You light the match. Deal?”

Joel huffs out an amused breath. He may not have any idea who this woman is who’s helping him, but she’s competent, knows what needs to be done, and is funny.

He kinda likes her, whoever she is.

They don’t speak as they hurry up the stairs, and once they’ve exited, she jams a chair into the door to lock it.

She was right about the place being littered with Fireflies.

They move as a unit, in sync, somehow knowing what the other would do without speaking, taking out anyone who got in their way swiftly and efficiently. Rage fueled him, and she led him, knowing where to take cover, tossing each other more ammunition divested from those they’d gunned down. The guards had no idea what hit them, hearing screams and frantically calling for reinforcements over their radios, wondering out loud who was killing them.

It’s a bloodbath, a fucking massacre. Joel and this woman are ruthless in their endeavor to get to Ellie.

Blood is spattered on their clothes and skin, sweat clinging to their bodies, breathing hard when they enter a door and see where the operating room is. Joel barricades the door they’d come through with medical equipment to buy them time, his knees aching and back sore, heart racing a mile a minute.

“There will be a nurse and a doctor,” she whispers. “I should’ve been in there, too.”

He grunts in response, taking off his backpack to strap the rifle to it, putting it back on, and grabbing the handgun from his waist.

He’s hoping and praying they’ll make it in time, not sure what he’ll do if they don’t, the trek to the room feeling like it takes forever.

She pushes through the door first, him stepping in after her training his gun on the surgeon about to operate.

“Get away from her!” Joel angrily demands, his teeth bared, ready to shoot.

“What are you doing here?” the surgeon asks, moving to stand between them and Ellie, holding up a scalpel in defense. “You brought him here?” The question was directed at the mystery woman.

“Yes,” she answers, her gun locked on him. “We’re not letting you kill her.”

“She’s our future! You can’t take her! This is the only way to save lives!”

“It’s not!” she shouts, Joel hearing her anger.

“You’ll pay for this—don’t come any closer,” the surgeon threatens, swinging the scalpel around.

There’s no hesitation when she pulls the trigger, the man falling to the ground as the nurse screams, Joel seeing her reaching on a surgical tray for something sharp, his shot stopping her.

The room is cleared, his focus moving to Ellie.

“Sweet Jesus,” he murmurs, his gun going back into his waistband, not wasting another second to get to the girl, her in a surgical gown and oxygen mask, hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed.

“Come on, baby girl,” he says, carefully removing the mask. The woman had shouldered her rifle, moving to the other side of the table to carefully take care of the IV and bandage Ellie’s hand. “I gotcha,” his voice soft as he gently picks her up, his attention moving to the woman. “How do we get outta here?”

He watches as she tears off the cap and, finally, the face mask.

Stumbling back, he feels like he’s been shot, his eyes going wide, all of the oxygen leaving his lungs and making it hard to breathe, blood pounding in his ears.

It can’t be.

Since the night of the outbreak, Joel has been plagued with nightmares, reliving the horrors over and over again, self-medicating with pills and home-brewed booze to dreamlessly sleep. There were nights when he’d dream of the woman he once loved—her eyes, her smile, usually the two of them in bed with soft light pouring in from the window, and if his brain was being particularly cruel, he’d be on top of her, watching as she came around him—something he once loved to see, and was now painful, waking up harder than a rock, and too fucking sad to do anything about it except drink until he passed out. A vicious cycle.

Staring at the woman in front of him, it’s the same face from his dreams.

He’d kissed those lips, held those cheeks, spent hours studying every detail, and thought he’d never see it again—only in memory, another person lost to him.

It feels like he’s seeing a ghost, unable to believe that this is real, that she’s standing there, thinking maybe he might be dead, and he’s having a nice hallucination before his soul leaves this earth.

He croaks out your name, it feeling rusty on his tongue.

She smiles softly, and he sucks in a breath because it is you, and you’re alive, tears beginning to burn in his eyes.

“Hi, babe,” you greet with a wiggle of your fingers in a wave.

His heart constricts, his lips slowly tipping up, replying without a second thought.

“Hi, baby.”

Hours Earlier

“She doesn’t have to die!” you shout.

For months, Marlene has been talking about a girl immune to the infection and that she hired a smuggler to deliver her to your research hospital where you worked, but after most of Marlene’s crew didn’t make the trip here, you all assumed the girl hadn’t survived.

At least you had until she’d been found unconscious nearby, the old bite mark that’d healed and scarred with no sign of infection prominent on her arm, identifying her as Ellie Williams.

Tests were done to confirm her immunity, and now you’re discussing what’s to be done with the lead surgeon at this facility and Marlene, the doctor so adamant about finding a cure he isn’t taking into account that Ellie is a child and that there are other options than doing a procedure that will outright kill her.

“We have to extract the fungus,” he replies.

“Yes, and we can biopsy,” you argue.

“Can that be done?” Marlene asks.

He’s sitting behind his desk, you and Marlene standing in front of it. She’s called you in as a second opinion because you’re second in line behind the surgeon here at the hospital.

You and he speak at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Her attention moves to him.

“Lay it out for me why a biopsy wouldn’t work.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, looking tired.

“The fungus is intertwined with the brain, and removing it would destroy the host.”

“She’s a child, not some science experiment. Why does it all have to be removed?”

He sighs.

“It’s our best chance at making the vaccine—extract the entire specimen, and we’ll save millions of lives.”

“At the cost of an innocent kid?” Marlene asks with a raised eyebrow.

He leans forward on the desk, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do you think I’m unaware of the situation?” he asks. “How many Fireflies have died for less? How many sacrifices have been made for nothing when this one will actually have results?”

She looks at you.

“Rebuttal?”

“In order to make a vaccine, we only need some of the mutated infection. It’s possible to biopsy some of it to get what we need—extracting the entire specimen is overkill and murder.”

Marlene faces him again.

“I want to agree with her,” she says, pointing her thumb at you. “If she can do it without killing Ellie, then I’ll have her take over.”

His eyes narrow.

“She’s not even a real doctor.” “My degree would say otherwise,” you snidely reply.

He met your gaze.

“You didn’t complete your residency—you were an intern when the outbreak happened. I was a practicing physician with years under my belt, and you think you know our best course of action for this situation? I have the experience. I have been searching for a cure for years while you were off being a medic.” The disdain is evident in his tone. “You may have risen in the ranks here over the last five years, but I am the head of this hospital.” He looks at Marlene. “I’ve been working for your cause practically since its inception. Our goal is to make a vaccine. You’ve trusted me here for years to do our work, and we’ve been fighting for this moment—this is our chance to justify all of the sacrifices and horrific things we’ve been through, and we can’t let it all go to waste because our cure happens to reside in a fourteen-year-old girl—you have to trust me on this, a biopsy is not enough, we need it all to ensure the vaccine is made.”

“That’s horse shit!” you exclaimed, throwing up your hands.

Marlene holds her hand up to you, her attention on the surgeon.

“What if this was your daughter?” she asks, well aware that he has one, who’s also a Firefly.

“I wouldn’t hesitate,” he answers. “One life for millions of others? I think it’s worth the sacrifice.”

She nods.

“Do it.”

“Marlene, I can—” you start to protest.

She turns to you, cutting you off, “We have to do whatever it takes to be successful—if you don’t agree, you can leave. It’s being done with or without you, but you're not welcome back once you step outside those doors.”

Your mouth falls open, anger swirling in your gut.

This is murder. They’re going to kill this girl, and what if it doesn’t pan out to anything? This isn’t sitting right with you, not when there are other options. You’ve been with the Fireflies for years, a way to survive and try to do some good, but seeing what they’re willing to do for a cure has made you disillusioned with the group—the experimentations, infecting people to try out vaccines that failed—and now there’s a real shot at getting somewhere, and they want to kill the person who’s giving it to them.

Can you get her out?

Can you save her?

That smuggler she came with managed to get her across the country in relatively good shape, and you have to assume he fought and killed to keep her safe.

Would he help you?

Two against dozens of armed guards sounds like a suicide mission, but what will the Fireflies resort to if this all fails?

As the surgeon said, you spent years as a medic, which meant you were traveling, protecting yourself, gaining your skills as a doctor and in self-defense, not shy about guns, blood, or carnage.

If they’re going to do whatever it takes, then you will too, in order to save this girl.

“Am I understood?” Marlene asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply.

“Good.” She glances back at the man. “I’m gonna go tell Joel.”

The name has a jolt running through you, memories of a man from your past coming to the forefront of your brain—chocolate-colored eyes, brown waves of hair, a strong nose, broad shoulders—Joel Miller was a hard one to lose, and you never recovered, would never recover. He was the love of your life, and you were planning on spending the rest of your days with him and his daughter up until the world ended, and you got separated, hoping they were out there somewhere as safe as they could be in these times. You squash down the sliver of hope, knowing Marlene isn’t talking about your Joel.

“Why?” he asks, making you mad that he’s questioning her decency.

“He traveled with her for months. He has the right to know. Good luck with your surgery.” With that, she left, leaving the two of you.

“I know you don’t agree with me,” he starts, “but today will go down in history as the day we saved the world.”

Your hands clench at your sides, grinding your teeth.

“Right…”

“Get her prepped for the operation. We’ll start in two hours.”

“How many will you need on your service?”

He thinks it over for a second.

“You can scrub in—I won’t need your help. One nurse will do. It’s a pretty straightforward procedure.”

“As you wish, Doctor,” you say through your teeth. “I’ll get the operating room put together.”

With the discussion over, you leave the room, trying to figure out what you’ll do as you walk to the surgical floor, mindlessly changing into scrubs, and a surgical cap, putting on your medical mask last. In the back of your locker, you take the handgun, stuffing it into the waistband of your pants, thankful it was normal to walk around armed.

Before you go to the girl’s room, you stop at the nurse's station, having the few there decide who will help during the surgery.

You’re not going to bother putting the operating room together; that will give you extra time.

Frankly, you shouldn’t even bother seeing the girl, but something inside you wants to meet her, so you go, her sitting up in a hospital bed, legs criss crossed under her, reading some old magazine one of the nurse’s probably brought her.

Knocking on her door, you ask, “Anything good in there?”

She looks over the pages at you.

“Just two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. People really read this shit?”

Laughing, you answer, “Yes, especially girls your age.”

She makes a face that has you snorting, her setting it down.

“It’s crazy how much people cared about how they looked.”

Walking towards her, you smile, nodding your head.

“I know,” you reply. “It would take me a minimum of thirty minutes to get ready before leaving the house.”

Shock is on her face.

“Why did it take so fucking long?”

“Shower, hair, makeup, finding the perfect outfit—if I had a date, it took me an hour because I wanted to look as cute as possible.”

Sadness has your chest going tight, remembering your first date with Joel and how you stressed over what dress to wear, mentally high-fiving yourself when his eyes lit up at seeing you. He tried to be a gentleman, telling you he was old-fashioned and didn’t do sex on the first date, his mind changing by the end of the night when you’d both ended up naked on your living room couch.

“An hour?!” she exclaims, taking you from your reverie. “Why?”

“Well, when two people like each other very much—”

“Ew,” she interrupts. “Yuck, I don’t want to know. Anyways, I’m assuming you’re a doctor?”

Making a show of looking down at your body, you ask, “What gave me away?” You met her eyes again.

“Honestly, you’re not like any doctor I’ve met before—earlier with the tests, they were so…”

“Cold?” you finish for her. “Not very friendly?”

“Exactly.”

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.

“There’s no bedside manner anymore,” you say. “It’s getting you fixed up and on your way—at least that’s how it is with newer doctors, the ones who’ve learned over time and didn’t actually go to school before the world went to shit. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable, and—” you look left and right like you’re making sure no one is around before looking at her again“ —It’s nice having someone new to talk to. People here are boring.”

She laughs.

“I can tell.”

It’s the right decision to save this girl. You know, in your gut, that it’s what you need to do.

Her spunkiness reminds you of Sarah, who also wouldn’t have been into two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. You’d bonded with Joel’s daughter over music, her loving your CD collection and always letting her choose what you listened to in the car, her tastes varying, which had a lot to do with her dad loving tunes from the seventies and eighties. She was a firecracker, always keeping her dad on his toes, and here was Ellie keeping you on yours.

“Let’s talk business, squirt,” you say.

Her face scrunches up, “Squirt?”

“Yeah, similar to ‘kiddo,’” you answer.

“You fucking sound like Joel—where is he, by the way? I woke up, and he wasn’t with me. People have been weird and will only say he’s okay.”

The worry is evident on her face, even though she’s trying to hide it.

“I haven’t personally seen him,” you reply. “He is okay, though. Marlene was actually heading to let him know how you’re doing.” And that they’re planning to kill you, you didn’t say out loud.

“That’s good. Don’t need him worrying.”

“I’m impressed he got you all the way here. What’s he like?”

You’re curious about the man.

“Tall, wide—” she held out her hands “—and a grumpy asshole.” Definitely not your Joel, then. “But he’s got his nice moments.” She gives you a conspiratorial look that makes you smile. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I know deep down he’s a fucking softy.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” you laugh.

Her face goes somber, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket under her.

“So, what’s gonna happen to me, Doc?”

Your stomach must drop all the way to the ground floor.

You couldn’t lie to her, but you didn’t want to scare her.

“They want to extract the infection from your brain to make a vaccine,” you answer truthfully.

“Who’s they?”

“Marlene and the head of this facility.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “You won’t be there?”

“I was asked to scrub in, but I won’t be operating.”

“Surgery, then?”

“Surgery.” You nod.

“Will it hurt?”

Smiling reassuringly, you answer, “Won’t feel a thing. You’ll be knocked out cold.”

“That’s good. Can I talk to Joel beforehand? I just want to thank him for everything.”

You frown, “That won’t be possible. I’ll happily relay a message to him for you.”

She looks downtrodden, eyes darting away from you.

“That works. Um, if I don’t make it, can you tell him I said thank you? For getting me here safe and not abandoning me? That I’m sorry for being such a fucking pain in his ass.”

You reach to touch her leg comfortingly.

“I’ll let him know,” you reply softly. “You know, I once knew a Joel before everything.” You wave your hand in explanation, her meeting your gaze to nod. “I was going to marry him,” you continue. “He hadn’t asked yet, but I knew he was the one. You never forget a dreamboat like Joel Miller,” you sigh wistfully.

Her eyes go round.

“Joel Miller?” she asks. “Your Joel’s last name was Miller?”

“It was.” You nod. “I loved him and his daughter Sarah.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You’re taken aback, “I’m sorry..?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She puts up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just my grumpy Joel’s last name is Miller, and he had a daughter named Sarah.”

Your heart clenches, and your throat gets tight, asking thickly, “Had?”

Clear sadness comes over her face.

“I don’t know all the details, but she didn’t make it. Early on. Really fucked him up.”

Covering your mouth, you need a second, emotions warring inside you—hope that it is your Joel and unimaginable pain about Sarah, not wanting her to be gone, and thinking of all the years he would’ve been alone, wondering if he even had Tommy. It’s a struggle to keep the tears at bay.

“Your Joel Miller, does he happen to be from Texas?” you finally ask.

“Yeah,” she answers, nodding. “Sounds funny, too. His brother Tommy and him are from, I think, Houston, no, fuck, starts with an ‘A.’”

“Austin,” you breathe, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yeah!” she exclaims. “Holy shit, is my Joel your Joel?”

She’s excited by the prospect, and you’re doing everything not to cry. You need to go to him. You both need to save this girl, and once that’s done, you can have the long overdue reunion. He won’t want her to die, especially not after losing Sarah. It’s cruel that he’s been put in this spot, your blood boiling, knowing without a doubt that if he brought her here alone, the two of you could get her out, or at least you’d both die trying, and you’re willing, especially to see Joel one last time.

“I think he might be,” you reply.

“You gotta go talk to him!”

“I do.” You nod. “Do you trust me?”

She looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to be safe—you’re not going to die. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Okay..?”

“Good. You’re not going to see me again until after you wake up, so don’t panic, squirt. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to go see him,” you say as you stand up.

She picks up the magazine.

“Do you need kissing tips? It says here that with these techniques, you’ll rock his world.”

You snort.

“Aren’t you a goddamn comedian—you must’ve amused the hell out of Joel.”

She looks proud as she smiles.

“I made him laugh—multiple times.”

“Way to go, kiddo. Don’t tell anyone where I’m going, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Sounds good, Doc.”

It was your goal not to arouse any suspicions, walking briskly towards the floor you knew Joel was on, stopping to snag a scalpel, and taking the back way that was a little longer but would have you bypassing a lot of the guards since you had some time to work with, the procedure having to be delayed with nothing being ready.

Hiding in the shadows of the next room, you gasp when you hear Joel calling Marlene on her bullshit, your heart picking up in speed at the familiar Texas drawl and rasp, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

He’s here.

He’s really here and alive.

The focus needs to be on saving Ellie, so you know you can’t trip him up by revealing who you are, thankful you’d changed into your operating clothes.

When his door opens, and you hear Marlene’s footsteps heading away from you, you’re moving, scalpel held tight in your hand, knowing you need to be as quiet as possible so as not to alert the other two guards on this floor.

You don’t even look at Joel when you enter the room, focusing on your task, and executing it seamlessly, only chancing a glance once you’ve tossed him the gun.

He’s older and greyer, years of surviving making his already broad shoulders even broader, his face hardened over time, having some idea of the hell he’s been through, and still, just as he was at thirty-six, at fifty-six, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Your fingers want to smooth the furrow between his eyes, kiss those plush lips of his, feel his arms engulf you, hold you tight, and never let you go.

Twenty years and you’re still madly in love with Joel Miller—one look, and you’re a fucking goner.

You can’t get your hopes up, not knowing anything about his current situation, assuming he’s probably moved on.

Who wouldn’t want him?

There’s no way he’s been single all these years. You’ve had your own flings, nothing long-lasting or very memorable.

Who could compare to Joel?

He’s the blueprint of what you want in a man, and no one could or would ever measure up.

Was your life lonely?

A little, but why tie yourself to someone you’d never be able to love because your heart belonged to another?

“Who are you?” he asks.

“No time to chat,” you reply. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.” You ignore the excited flutters in your tummy at hearing his voice.

He asks another question, and you answer, leading him from the room, weapons raised, ready to face whatever comes your way, comforted with Joel at your back.

When you reach the top floor, you quickly understand how he managed to get Ellie here in one piece—the man was a killing machine—brutal, merciless, breathtaking.

The way he fought was a thing of beauty, and if you hadn’t had to focus on staying alive, you’d have loved to watch him—seeing his strength, his competence, not wasting a single shot.

Somehow, it made him more attractive, which you didn’t think was possible.

The two of you worked together so well as a pair, covering each other, moving as one to mow down anyone who crossed your path, making it to the operating room just as they were about to begin.

You feel no remorse for killing the surgeon. Frankly, you haven’t felt bad about killing another human in years because there’s no room for feeling guilty when you’re trying to survive—you compartmentalize, knowing that it’s either them or you; if you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, you’re dead, so you’ve got to pull the trigger first, and you will.

You and Joel are on the same page about getting Ellie out of there as soon as possible. You quickly take care of her IV and make sure her hand is bandaged, smiling softly when you see Joel tenderly lift the girl into his arms, murmuring quietly to her, seeing just how much he cares.

There’s no doubt in your mind he would’ve attempted this rescue alone, and the thing is, you’re pretty sure he would’ve succeeded from sheer will alone.

His eyes meet yours, seeing his trust in you, him relying on you now to get you all out.

“How do we get outta here?” he asks.

There’s no point in hiding anymore, honestly surprised your cap and mask even stayed on.

You’re not sure what his reaction will be, hoping for happiness.

When he gets a good look at you, he stumbles back in shock, the blood leaving his face, watching his eyes go wide, mouth agape, seeing the shock, the disbelief, the hope, many emotions coming over his features as he processes what’s going on.

His voice cracks as he breathes your name, and you gently smile, knowing this is probably a lot for him, raising your hand and wiggling your fingers in a wave.

“Hi, babe,” you say.

It’s noticeable on his face the realization that it really is you, and you’re here, his eyes getting misty, lips turning up, the blood in your veins thrumming when he answers like he had a thousand times before without missing a beat, “Hi, baby.”

“You’re alive,” Joel says in wonder, his eyes mapping out your face, seeing lines from aging but still just as beautiful as the first time he saw you all those years ago.

“I am,” you reply, nodding. You point at him. “You are, too. Imagine my surprise when Ellie started telling me about this grumpy asshole named Joel Miller, who brought her here—couldn’t believe it was my Joel Miller until we compared notes. Sorry to spring this on you; I know it’s a shock.”

He huffs out a breath.

“That’s a fuckin’ understatement.”

You giggle.

Is this real? Is he dreaming?

You’re just as lively as he remembers, your smile like a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken world.

There’s a sensation in his stomach, it not feeling right, hitting him a second later that the fluttering is fucking butterflies, as if he was a goddamn teenager again, talking to his crush.

Twenty fucking years, and he still has it bad.

“God, I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you, too.”

“We’ll catch up after we get the fuck out of here. We’re going out that door.” You point at the opposite wall from where you came in. “Pit stop to grab her things that are on the way. Then the elevator to the basement garage—we can get a truck. There’s multiple.”

“I need you to do somethin’ first,” he says.

Your head cocks to the side.

“What do you need?”

“Come ‘ere, my hands are full. I need you to pinch me.”

Your eyebrows drew together.

“You need me to pinch you…?” you ask slowly.

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “Gotta make sure I’m not dreamin’—need to know you’re really here with me.”

Your eyes soften, quickly moving around the table until you’re at his side, smiling at him as you pinch his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek, his skin buzzing where you touch, wanting more of it.

“There,” you say, looking at him through your lashes, and it has him gulping. “Believe I’m here, now?”

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby,” his words come out rough, feeling the tears in his eyes.

“I missed you, too, Joel,” you reply, rubbing his arm, goosebumps erupting on his skin. “Let’s get out of here—I wanna catch up.”

He nods, “Lead the way.”

He watches you getting the rifle into your hands, him following you out of the room, stopping to grab Ellie’s backpack that was left on a hospital bed, and you putting it on.

It’s a fucking maze to find the elevator, you knowing exactly where to go, guards showing up halfway to it, commotion erupting as you told him where to go, covering him and Ellie as the three of you moved quickly down the corridors, gunshots ringing out.

You’re both panting by the time the elevator doors close, you taking point in front of him with your gun at the ready.

Joel can’t get over you being here with him.

There’s so much about you that hasn’t changed since all those years ago, somehow keeping your radiance, your life, not losing yourself to the darkness, but underneath all of that, he’s seen how you’ve adapted—killing with zero hesitation, not afraid to do what it takes to survive, a ruthlessness to you that only develops after going through some horrible shit. Guilt makes his chest squeeze, hating that you’ve been out here on your own, surviving. He at least has Tommy, had Tess, and with how easily you’re leaving with him, he doesn’t think you have anyone, and it breaks his heart.

“Do we need to worry about runnin’ into anybody else down there?” he asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder, “They would’ve called everyone to the top floor, and I’m pretty sure we took out at least ninety percent of their muscle. I can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to try and stop us.”

He nods.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. I’d honestly planned on trying to get her out before I knew it was you who’d brought her. I’m thankful you were here—you’re a fucking tank. Probably wouldn’t have even needed me.”

He chuckles, his chest puffing out a little in pride.

“If I’d had to do it alone, I’d be in a helluva lot more pain, so thank you.”

“Knees?”

He nods. “And my fuckin’ back—I’ve gotten old.”

“But you still look really fucking good,” you reply with a wink, and it makes his throat go dry, his heart hammering that you’re flirting with him, that you’re still interested in him after all this time, even though he’s gone grey, and rougher around the edges. You didn’t even shy away from what he’d do to keep himself and those he cares about safe; pretty sure you even liked it.

It’s been so long, he wonders if you moved on and if he even has a chance with you.

He’s had time to mourn Tess, thankful for the years he got with her, keeping him alive and not letting him self-destruct in his grief, but even though they cared about each other to a certain extent, they’d been using one another—he was the muscle, she was the brains, and he couldn’t give her what she wanted; offer feelings that weren’t hers to have, so what they had wasn’t all that romantic, there wasn’t time for any of that shit, and Tess didn’t much care for it, anyway.

There’s history with Joel and you, memories of a time when you’d been happy together, and being here with you is making him remember all of the good times—the feelings he had for you that he’d buried deep inside after he thought you were gone, coming alive inside him, consuming him, wanting to touch you, feel your soft skin under him, and kiss you—fuck, he hasn’t kissed in so long, Tess never being very affectionate, sex always quick and a means to scratch an itch.

He clearly remembers what sex was like with you—it haunts his dreams, the time you’d spend in bed, reliving the passion, the tenderness, the love, something deep down he’s craved since the last time he was with you.

The elevator opens before he can speak, the gun raised in your hands as you exit, Joel at your back, both of you stopping in your tracks once you’re out, finding Marlene standing there with her handgun pointed towards you both.

“What’s your plan?” she asks. “You save her today, but what about tomorrow? There’s a lot of shit out there. How long before she’s killed by a pack of clickers? If she even makes it that long without being murdered first. Face it, you can’t save her.”

“We’ll sure as fuck try,” he grits out. “Stop pretendin’ like you care about her. You were happy to stand aside and let her die.”

“For the greater good, to save lives.”

“You can shove the greater good up your ass, Marlene.”

She sighs.

“You can still do the right thing.” Her attention moves to you. “Do the biopsy like you wanted. All I care about is finding the cure. I’ll put you in charge of the facility. You can lead in the vaccine’s development.”

You scoff.

“You know as well as I do,” you reply, “that I’ll be dead if I step one foot back inside there. You’re lying, Marlene. You and the rest of the Fireflies will want us killed for what happened today.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Marlene asks.

“Yours!” you exclaim. “For not listening to me. This is all your fault.”

A gun goes off, and Marlene stumbles, falling to her knees, her gun skittering across the ground when she loses her grip on it.

She’s holding her stomach, a blood stain expanding under her hands.

“Don’t,” she chokes out, looking at you with her face contorted in pain. “Don’t kill me. Let me go. Please.”

You and he both know what needs to be done.

“She ain’t safe with you alive,” he says, her attention moving to him.

“Please,” she pleads.

Another shot is fired, and Marlene’s lifeless body crumples to the ground.

“Come on,” you tell him, heading towards a nearby pickup, shouldering your rifle as you get the door open for him to set Ellie in the backseat, you disappearing for a minute and coming back to put gasoline canisters in the bed, along with a bag, telling him it had emergency rations and a first aid kit.

“Where will we go?” you ask when you get in the passenger seat, Joel already ready to drive.

“Wyoming,” he answers. “Tommy.”

Relief washes over your face.

“I’m happy to hear he’s alive,” you say softly.

A stone is in his stomach that he’ll have to tell you about Sarah.

“Yeah, that asshole’s still alive and kickin’,” he replies. “His wife scares the fuck outta me.”

“Wow, can’t believe someone married him.”

He chuckles.

“Me either—do you know how to get outta here?”

The truck’s started, Joel already driving.

“Yes!” you reply, directing him.

There’s not much talking as you make your way out of the city, both too nervous and expecting the worst. It feels like he can finally breathe once you’re on the highway heading toward Tommy’s.

Ellie’s still passed out, the pickup rumbling down the road.

“How long will she sleep for?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Oh, an hour or two,” you answer.

He nods. “We gotta do anythin’ for her?”

“Nope. Just have to wait for the drugs to wear off—she was given a cocktail that could knock out a horse.”

He frowns, nodding once.

“It’s sweet,” you reply, him seeing you with a soft smile on your lips.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“How much you care about her.”

His hands squeeze the steering wheel, the leather creaking.

“She’s a pain in the ass,” he grumbles.

That makes you laugh, and God, he’s missed that sound.

“Ellie apologizes, and I quote, ‘for being such a fucking pain in his ass,’” you giggle. “She also wanted to thank you for keeping her safe and not abandoning her.

His heart clenches up.

“She said those things?”

Your lips tip down, frowning.

“Yeah. Wanted me to tell you in case she didn’t make it.”

“Why’d you wanna save her?”

“It was the right thing to do. I fought for a way that she’d survive the operation, and I was outvoted—couldn’t let them murder her.”

After losing Sarah and thinking he lost you, too, Joel had erected walls in his mind to keep the debilitating grief he felt at bay, shoving down his emotions and not letting himself feel—couldn’t let himself feel, not if he wanted to live, which was already a struggle. This made him cold, emotionless, a husk of a man, having to keep finding something to fight for to keep going, only allowing his rage to come out in order to kill and do what was necessary to survive without a single care.

Tess would poke at the walls without meaning to, getting glimpses of his tenderness that she’d bat away and make him close back up.

Ellie made it her goal to break them down, him imagining her with a sledgehammer, laying waste to the concrete and steel, making him care, making him feel until she’d made a hole big enough to crawl inside and worm her way into his heart, the kid one of the most important people in his life now.

And then there’s you, coming out of nowhere and making the walls left standing crumble to dust simply by being here—the memories, the history, the love, igniting him, making him remember what it was like to feel again, focusing on the strongest emotion that has him feeling warmth deep down to his bones, contentedness, pure happiness, the feeling so strong he’s almost breathless.

You’re alive and with him, Ellie’s safe and sound, and he’s happy, actually happy, for the first time since everything went to hell.

And you care about Ellie, which just makes him love you even more, those butterflies in his stomach going wild.

“Thank you again for all you did,” he says.

“It’s no big deal.”

“You coulda died.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” You shrug.

He smiles.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Same. I have missed you every day since the last time I saw you.” Reaching your hand over, you touch his thigh, sadness on your face as you look at him. “Joel, I’m sorry about Sarah,” you say gently.

He sucks in a breath, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” his voice is thick, his throat so tight it’s hard to speak, but you need to know what happened, Joel knowing how much you’d loved her, treating her as if she were your own. “It, uh, was my birthday when everything went down.”

Your hand goes to your mouth, gasping, “Joel, no.”

“Yeah.” He swallows hard. “Worst fuckin’ day of my life.” Tears were in his eyes. “Held her in my arms as she died—fuckin’ military shot her,” he spits out. “Tryin’ to contain everything they just started murderin’, took my baby girl from me,” he chokes on the words, a tear slipping down his face. “Lost her and thought I lost you, too, found your house in flames.” He wipes at the wetness in his eyes. “Fuckin’ hate remeberin’ that night—my entire world was taken from me.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper, moving across the bench seat to be next to him, Joel welcoming the hug you give him, wrapping your arm around his belly, and resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m just so fucking sad about Sarah,” you sniffle.

He reaches to press a hand against the back of your head.

“I know, baby,” he replies.

“Was Tommy with you?”

“Yeah. He kept me alive.”

“What’d you do?”

He lets out a long sigh.

“A lot of fucked up shit.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“I guess if you’re livin’, you’d have to.”

“Isn’t that so assbackwards? What were you doing before Ellie?”

“Boston—smuggling.”

“Oooh, a criminal, isn’t that sexy.” His hand moves to hold the steering wheel again, gulping. “Sorry,” you say quickly, sitting up. “It’s rude of me to flirt with you while you’re explaining all these horrible things. I don’t even know if you’re still single; for all I know, you could have a wife and kids back in Boston.”

“No wife and no kids—I can’t, not again.” He can’t help the somber tone of his voice.

He can tell you understand from the look on your face.

“I get it,” you reply. “I, uh, made sure I couldn’t have children. The world’s too fucked, and I didn’t want to risk anything. So, had a fellow doctor help me out.”

He’s sad remembering how when you were together, you’d wanted kids with him, at least two, you’d told him, and he’d been excited by the prospect, seeing how much you cared about Sarah and her adoring you. It was painful to think about, but he’d asked his daughter a week before his birthday over breakfast if she’d be okay if he married you. She’d been ecstatic and wanted to help him pick out the ring.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” you wave away his apology. “Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a question sitting on the tip of his tongue that he finally asks.

“Do I gotta worry about a partner huntin’ us down to get you back?”

You scoff.

“No. Painfully single. Anyone I need to worry about?”

“Not anymore,” he answers. “There was someone months ago—they didn’t make it.”

“Jesus, Joel,” you gasp. “You can’t catch a fucking break. I know life is a bitch, but my god, do I feel like it’s taking a special interest in making you miserable.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that’s how it feels sometimes. God must be laughing at me.” He glances at you. “I think things are changin’ though after today. Finally think I’m gettin’ a goddamn break.”

You lean forward, knocking your knuckles on the dashboard.

“We don’t have wood, but I’m being safe—don’t want to jinx you.”

“Thanks for lookin’ out.” He smiles.

“Always.” You grin.

“Tell me what happened with you,” he says. “How’d I lose you?”

It’s something he’s wondered for twenty years, needing to know what happened to you.

“As you know, I was interning at the clinic to complete my residency—”

He did know that. You were fresh out of med school when you’d met, honestly surprising him that you let an old guy like him get your number.

“And I’d had your birthday off,” you continued. “When they called me in, I went, but something didn’t feel right about halfway, so I turned around to head back to your place. A tire went flat.”

“The spare was flat, too, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“I told you I’d take care of it, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother!”

“You weren’t no bother—you were my girlfriend, and it was my job to make sure you were safe. I shoulda just fuckin’ done it. Fuck.” He hits the steering wheel.

He felt like this was all his fault. So much could’ve been different if he’d done this one thing.

“Hey, hey.” You rub his arm. “This isn’t on you. I was the dumbass.”

He meets your eyes.

“Twenty years,” he says. “Fuckin’ lost you for twenty goddamn years because of a tire?”

He can’t fucking believe it.

You’re looking down, “Yeah,” you whisper.

He sighs loudly, squeezing your thigh.

“Sorry about gettin’ upset, it’s just, God, think of what our lives coulda been.”

“I’m sorry, Joel. I fucked up.”

“No, baby. You were busy becomin’ a doctor, already stretchin’ yourself thin datin’ me. I shoulda done more.”

“You did more than enough, and you had your own stuff to worry about—Sarah, your construction company. I’m an adult. I should’ve made sure my shit was taken care of.”

He sighs.

“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I am.”

“What’d you do after gettin’ out of Austin?”

“Searched for you. Doctors were in need, so I traveled a lot in the early days offering aid and hoping I’d find you. Some years later, I got snatched up by the Fireflies, thinking maybe they had the right idea, eventually helping to try to make a vaccine. Was at the research facility for the last five years, but things were so fucked. I know I would’ve gotten out soon if I hadn't left today.”

“What do you wanna do now?”

He’s hoping you’ll say you want to stay with him, wanting you back.

“Um, well, seeing as I’m unattached, and you’re unattached, I thought I’d follow you around? Wherever you go, I’ll go,” you answer. “I’m not sure if you can tell, but I never got over you, Joel. Never. I thought I lost you, mourned what was and could’ve been, and I was never able to really be with anyone because I still loved you, and seeing you today, being with you, it’s evident I still love you. So, if you’ll have me, I wanna stay with you, I don’t want to be away from you ever again, and I know Ellie is important to you—I’ve known her less than a day, and she’s already pretty fucking important to me, too. She’s a good kid, and I’m glad you’ve got her. I’m just really fucking hoping you’d maybe want me around, too.”

His heart’s squeezing so tight it’s hard to breathe, so happy that you’d want to be with him again, but doubt rears its ugly head that this is all too good to be true, that you don’t know what you’re signing up for.

“I ain’t him,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not who?” you ask, confused.

“I ain’t the same man you fell in love with.”

“You think I don’t know you’ve changed? We killed together today. You’ve been referred to as a ‘grumpy asshole’ by someone who’s been around you for months. I’m not expecting you to be the man you were twenty years ago—we’ve been through literal hell. I know I sure as fuck am not the same.” You grab his thigh. “We can figure it out, get to know each other again. However, I think it’s safe to say with how easily we’ve fallen back into things, there isn’t much to worry about.” You softly smile. “We’re not the same people we were before this shit, but I think the love’s still there. At least, it is on my end. You’re fine, babe,” you reassure, rubbing over his jeans. “Don’t stress. We can make this work if you’re willing.”

He met your eyes, seeing the truth shining brightly in the depths and knowing without a doubt you meant what you were saying, wanting to kiss you so badly.

“I’m so fuckin’ willin’,” he says. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Impossible.” You smile. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

He knows you mean it, and it has his heart swelling, thinking maybe things are changing for the better, that he’s being given a second chance at life, and he’s not gonna waste it.

“Wanna know the moment I knew you loved me?” he asks, reminiscing about the past.

It’s how he’d known you were the one for him.

A curious expression is on your face, smiling at him.

“Tell me.”

“When you didn’t even bat an eye at bein’ fired from the clinic in town for datin’ me.”

“Oh my god, I wasn’t fired. I was forcibly relocated.”

He chuckles.

“If that’s what you wanna call it. You datin’ a patient made it to where the only clinic that’d take you was an hour and a half away in the city.”

“You make it sound like I was dating you while you were still my patient—you were in my care once, and by the end of the appointment, you’d seduced me.” He snorts. “I was never your doctor again, so it wasn’t unethical. I had to be forcibly relocated for breaking a dumb clinic-specific rule that made zero sense because Janis was jealous you were dating me and not her and reported me. Fucking, Janis,” you seethe.

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s probably dead now,” he says.

You chortle before covering your mouth in shock.

“That’s fucking dark, Joel.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“I mean, yeah, the odds aren’t very good. You wanna know something, though, about the whole me being forcibly relocated to the city?”

He met your eyes, seeing that smile he loved.

“What’s that?”

“It was worth it—you were worth it. I’d do it all over again and happily be forcibly relocated so I can date you.”

That has him feeling soft.

“Am I still worth it?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“Twenty years might have come and gone. I’m not that young piece of ass I once was—“

He makes a face, cutting you off, “You were never a piece of ass to me,” he says seriously. “I loved you—still love you, never fuckin’ stopped. Before everything went to fuckin’ shit, I saw us havin’ a life together—was gonna ask you to move in that night, had a key ready to give you. I wanted to marry you, have kids, and spend the rest of our lives together because you were my everything.” His voice cracks when he speaks again, “You and Sarah, you both were my entire fuckin’ world.” He clears his throat to compose himself. “I loved you so fuckin’ much I spent years tryin’ to find you. Years. When there wasn’t any sign, I figured I lost you, too, and with you gone, my last shred of humanity went, too, because I no longer had anythin’ to live for. I loved you,” he croaks. “I still love you, and I’ll never stop until the day I die.”

Tears roll down your cheeks.

“I love you, too,” you say.

His arm moves around your shoulder to pull you into him, hugging you as best he can and kissing your hair.

“I’m happy to have you back—want you with me if you can accept that I’m fucked up.”

“We’re in the same boat. It’s crazy what an apocalypse does to people.”

You stay like that, him holding you against him while you both talk, reminiscing about before, sharing your favorite stories about Sarah, comfortable with each other, and talking so easily like no time had passed at all.

An hour goes by, Joel navigating the road as you chat.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” a voice says in the backseat. Ellie sits up, rubbing her eyes. “My head feels so fucking weird.”

“Hey, take it easy,” he says. “Drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“Welcome to the land of the living,” you say.

She must notice how you’re cuddled up next to him, seeing her eyes get big in the rearview mirror.

“Woah, you really didn’t need those kissing tips, Doc.”

You snort, and Joel’s curious about what she means.

“What’s she talkin’ about?” he asks.

“She’s being a smartass.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

“She’s always a smartass,” he replies.

You move to look over the seat at her.

“Just feeling woozy? Anything hurt?” you ask.

“Brain’s all foggy. Nothing hurts.” She touches her head, looking confused. “What happened? Did they do the procedure?”

“They didn’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “We—”

He interrupts you, “They found somebody else,” he says quickly, knowing Ellie won’t take what you did well. “There was another like you, and they chose them.”

He doesn’t want to meet your eyes because he knows you’re staring him down.

Ellie’s not buying it; he can see it on her face, making him grimace, and swallow hard, knowing he fucked up, shame roiling in his gut.

“So, Joel is a fucking liar,” you say, eyes still on him. “I can’t believe you—she deserves to know.”

“She ain’t gonna like it,” he says.

“You don’t know that.”

“What won’t I like?” Ellie pipes up. “What’s going on, guys? Be straight with me, Doc.”

Your attention moves to her.

“They were going to kill you.”

“Oh,” she says quietly. “I was okay with dying if it meant saving people's lives.”

“That’s very courageous, Ellie, and I understand you want to help, but they didn’t need to kill you. What was the point if they had and a cure couldn’t be made?”

Her eyebrows furrow.

“They still would’ve had a chance to try!” she says hotly. Joel knew she’d be mad; the kid was determined to be a martyr. “It could’ve worked, and you took away my shot to help do some good!”

“They were going to murder you,” you calmly reply.

“I was willing to die!”

“Well, I ain’t willin’ to lose you!” His voice rises.

“It wasn’t your choice, Joel! It was mine!”

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’, and you ain’t listen’ to her either!” He tilts his head towards you. “They coulda gotten what they needed without murderin’ you, but they didn’t care.” He looks at you. “Baby, tell her your plan if you would’ve had the chance.”

“We could’ve gone in,” you say, “and biopsied some of the infection—it intertwines with the brain, so just a little bit somewhere that wouldn’t do you any harm.”

“Well, why don’t we go back there and do that then?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

You sigh.

“Because the Fireflies were so deadset on taking your entire brain, they were willing to kill anyone who got in their way.”

“You killed them,” she breathes, eyes wide.

“We did.” You nod.

“What do I do now? Why am I here?” She’s upset. “Why am I immune, Doc? Are there others like me?”

“We’ve never come across anyone else immune—somehow, the infection has mutated in your body. It’s a new development, something we’ve never seen.”

“And the people who could’ve figured out what the fuck is going on with me are all dead? Great.” She falls back into her seat, pressing her hands to her face. “I needed it all to mean something.” Her words are muffled, looking up at you with wet eyes. “All of the people who’ve died for me. First, my friend Riley who was there when I was bitten—the two of us planning to die together, and my turn never coming. Then Tess and Sam. It needs to mean something. Their deaths can’t have been for nothing! Why do I get to live, and they don’t? What’s the point of me being immune if I can’t do something good with it?”

“Hey, Ellie.” You reach over the seat to touch her arm. “There’s still hope. If I can get access to the right equipment, I can do the biopsy. It might take some time, but I’m capable and have spent many years working to find a cure. There’s hope, kiddo. They didn’t die for nothing, you’re still here, and we’ll have the chance to see what we find.”

“You promise?” she sniffs.

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Is there something you want to say, Joel?” You look at him pointedly.

He sighs.

“Sorry for lyin’ to you, Ellie. It wasn’t right.”

Her face lights up.

“Oh, Doc’s got you whipped!” she laughs. “This is so fucking funny.”

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her in the mirror.

“You’re fucking forgiven, Joel, but I’m still gonna give you shit about being in love,” she sing-songs.

“Christ,” he sighs.

“It’s okay, babe,” you say, rubbing his arm. “We’ll just gross her out with excessive PDA.”

That has him perking up.

“Excessive?” he asks, looking at you and seeing your mischievous smile.

“Wait,” Ellie says. “What’s PDA?”

“Public displays of affection,” you both say simultaneously.

She makes a face.

“Like kissing?” she asks.

You look at her, grinning.

“Yes,” you answer. “And inappropriate touching.”

“Ew.” Ellie mock gags. “Disgusting. I don’t need to see that shit. Keep it to yourselves.”

“Sometimes when two people love each other very much, they can’t help—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sappy bullshit,” Ellie interrupts. “I’m good. Don’t look back here. I’m putting on actual clothes.”

About forty miles from Tommy’s, the truck breaks down on a mountain highway with no way to salvage it, having to walk the rest of the way, gathering your belongings for the half-day trek.

Ellie is a delightful conversationalist, telling you about the trip she and Joel made, poking jabs at him here and there that have him looking grumpy and you laughing.

The three of you are on high alert, even while talking, Joel and you gripping your rifles tight with the young girl between you as you walk for a few hours, finding an old abandoned farmhouse to stay in for the night when the sun begins to set.

It’s just your luck that there’s a stream running through the property, and though it’s too cold to fully bathe, you and Joel take the opportunity to wash up with a bar of soap pilfered from the home to get all of the blood and grime off your skin while Ellie explores the house.

There’s tension between you and Joel, and it’s thick, palpable, fueled by the shared looks and finding his eyes on your body more times than you can count; you’re just as obvious with your interest, checking him out at every opportunity, marveling at how his flannel hugs that chest of his, and his jeans making his ass look incredible, your fingers itching to touch him, and feel his warm skin.

To add fuel to the fire, he hasn’t kissed you yet.

Hours you’ve been back together, and not one single kiss to your lips, knowing he wants to, seeing his gaze lingering on your mouth when he talks to you, wondering to yourself what’s keeping him from going for it, and it was taking everything in you not to make the first move.

It has you desperate and aching, just wanting to feel his lips on yours and his arms around you once more, knowing it will be so fucking good, but in the back of your mind, you know his hesitance is Ellie. After what she said on the drive, he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, which was sweet of him, but it’s been twenty years, and you’re jonesing for just one kiss.

Inside the house, Joel goes about barricading all of the doors on the first floor with furniture, refusing your help, which leaves you to stand off to the side, getting flustered because the man’s putting on a damn show.

He pushes up his sleeves, allowing you to see his muscles flex as he works, seeing his strength while he manhandles a china cabinet, sinfully grunting, sweat beading on his skin. It has you all hot and bothered, thanking the powers that be, Ellie was in another room going through stuff so as not to see you openly gawking, knowing the girl would give you shit about it.

With the last door secure, he turns to you, wiping at his forehead with the back of his arm, a knowing smile on his lips when he asks, “Is there somethin’ on my face? You’ve been starin’ an awfully long time.”

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I was staring because you were being a damn tease.”

He matches your stance, crossing his arms and looking amused.

“I was movin’ furniture. How is that me bein’ a tease?”

“You were moving the furniture suggestively. You know exactly what you were doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I was just makin’ sure we’re safe for the night.”

“Uh-huh, right. You’re a damn tease, Joel Miller.”

Three steps, and he’s in your space, your breath hitching when his big hands land on your hips, leaning his face close enough to your own that your noses almost touch.

You’d forgotten how much real estate his palms can take up, your skin tingling under their breadth, arousal burning in your belly.

“You think I was bein’ a tease?” he asks in a low rasp, his eyes moving between yours and your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Lemme show how much of a tease I can be, baby.”

Your eyes widen.

“Oh god.”

“You drippin’ for me? Thinkin’ about how it felt to have me inside? How I stretched you open? How you always felt me the next day?”

It feels like your skin is on fire, your body so hot, your heart pounding in your chest because now you are thinking about it, and it’s making you throb between your legs.

A whimper falls from your lips as he nudges your nose with his, mouths so close you can feel his breath.

“Bet your panties are drenched for me, baby. Bet you’d love me to slide my hand down them to touch your pretty little pussy, and feel just how wet you are.”

You’re pretty sure you’ll explode if he doesn’t do something, harshly whispering, “Fucking kiss me already, Joel!”

He smiles, chuckling.

“Got you all needy. Alright, I’ll kiss you.”

There’s a possibility your heart might jump out of your chest as he starts moving, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” Ellie says as she enters the room. Joel steps away from you, and you cannot stop the strangled whine that comes from your throat. “You okay, Doc?”

Clearing your throat, you turn to face her, smiling.

“Just peachy.”

She seems to accept your answer, a book held in her hands.

“As I was saying,” Ellie starts. “I’m fucking starving. We got anything to eat?”

The three of you shared some jerky on the drive and nothing more, realizing you haven’t had an actual meal since that morning at the hospital, your stomach suddenly growling.

“Seems it’s dinner time,” Joel says. He looks at you, “You brought those rations, right?”

“I did,” you answer, walking to the rundown dining table that you’d plopped your bag onto, Joel’s backpack next to it. Rummaging through what you have, you say, “Looks like we’re having a variety of canned goods.”

“Got any peaches?” Ellie asks.

“Yep!” you answer, grabbing the can.

“Fuck yeah! I call dibs,” she replies, coming over to take it from you.

All of you sit at the table to eat, Joel across from you, Ellie at the head seat, everyone relatively quiet as you chow down, feeling his eyes on you and pretending like you don’t notice.

“What did you find?” you ask her.

She meets your gaze, setting down her fork to pick up the book.

“Something called ‘Jurassic Park,’” she says. “It’s got dinosaurs, which I thought was fucking cool.”

“The movies were really good,” you reply.

Her eyes get bigger.

“They made movies about this?” She holds it up.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Three. I’ve never read the book, though. Let me know how it is.”

“I’m gonna start it tonight after dinner. Did you ever see the movies, Joel?”

He doesn’t answer, too focused on you.

“Earth to Joel,” she says, leaning forward to wave her hand in front of his eyes, his head turning towards her quickly.

“Did you say somethin’?” he asks.

“Yeah.” She’s grinning, clearly amused. “You know, if you stare at her any harder, she might catch on fire.”

His eyebrows dip down.

“I wasn’t starin’,” he grumbles, his elbows on the table while he takes a bite, looking at his can.

“Jesus, Joel, I was not prepared for you being a lovesick fool. It’s honestly gross. Thank god you weren’t like this with Tess.”

His head snaps up as you tense, knowing she’s mentioned that name before.

“That’s enough, Ellie.” His tone’s severe.

You look at him, your eyebrows pinched together.

“Who’s Tess?” you ask.

Ellie’s eyes go big.

“Oh, shit,” she says. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t realize she didn’t know.”

“Who’s Tess?” you ask again.

“It’s alright, Ellie,” He sighs, long and loud, running a hand through his hair. He looks at you. “Tess was my old partner in Boston. She, uh, died on the trip to bring Ellie to the Fireflies.”

“Oh,” you reply, nodding. “The one you’d mentioned. I’m sorry she didn’t make it.”

“It’s just how these things go,” he says.

“Your girlfriend died…” you say slowly. “You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

He grimaces.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Well, I’m going to finish eating upstairs,” Ellie says, the chair scraping across the floor as she gets up quickly. “You two need to be alone.”

He looks at her.

“You don’t gotta do that,” he replies.

“No, no,” she says, grabbing her can and book. “I am so happy not to be a part of this.” She briskly walks away.

He sighs, pressing his hands to his face.

“What do you mean it wasn’t like that?” you ask. “If you were partners—clearly romantic…”

Meeting your gaze, he answers, “It wasn’t romantic. We cared about each other, we kept each other alive, and occasionally fucked, but there was nothing romantic about it. I didn’t feel that way about her, and can probably count on one hand how many times we even kissed. I didn’t love her. I couldn’t love her.”

You know the answer before you even ask the question, and still, it catches you by surprise.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Because she wasn’t you.”

“Joel,” you whisper.

“You were it for me. You were always it for me, and if I couldn’t have you, then I didn’t want anyone else.”

“It was the same for me,” you reply. “Felt cruel to try and be with someone when I could never love them, so I just didn’t.”

“Yeah. I was always upfront about what I was willin’ to give.”

“Gotta set expectations.” You nod. “Don’t want to hurt feelings.”

He lets out a long breath, looking away.

“Still got hurt anyway.”

“Honestly, if you told me not to fall in love with you, I think I’d just fall harder, so it makes sense.” You shrug. “You’re still a goddamn dreamboat of a man.”

His eyes meet yours again, crookedly smiling.

“Dreamboat?” he asks.

“God, yeah. Look at you. The grey is sexy, and my god, I think you have more muscles than when we were together.”

There’s a change in his gaze, seeing his eyes go darker.

“You wanna find out?” he asks.

“Um, yes, I would very much like to do a study and compare it to previous findings.”

He nods, pointing at your can.

“Finish eatin’.”

“But—”

“Dinner first,” he cuts you off. “Then you can check me out. Gonna need your energy.” He winks, and you gulp, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache as you do as he says, both of you finishing your food in silence.

Ellie’s upstairs, and the two of you are alone down here, anticipation welling up inside you because you know at some point, everything between you both will finally erupt, and you can tell it’s going to be explosive.

He leans back in his chair when he finishes, resting his hands behind his head, his eyes on yours, waiting for you, and smiling when you push your can away.

His voice is deeper, drawl more pronounced when he speaks. “I was gonna stay down here and keep watch for the night,” he rasps. “You’re more than welcome to rest upstairs if you’re tired.”

He says one thing, but those darkened eyes of his say another.

“We both know I’m staying with you.”

Smiling, he replies, “I hoped you would.”

“There’s no furniture, so we’ll have to get comfortable on the floor.”

“If I remember correctly, you quite enjoyed the floor.” He smirks.

You suck in a breath, memories of the two of you being so turned on by the time you got back to your house, you didn’t make it past the entryway, him fucking you on the rug.

Your skin is burning up, clearing your throat.

“I’ll grab us some pillows from upstairs,” you say, the chair making noise as you get up.

He nods, “Okay.”

Quickly you’re moving, taking the stairs two at a time, figuring out which room Ellie’s in with the door shut, glad she chose one on the other side of the house and managing to find four pillows in the other rooms, hugging them to your chest as you return to Joel.

He’s looking out the living room window, his body tense, taking in his profile, his attention shifting to you when he hears your footsteps.

The center of the living room is bare, the lone couch against the front door, the coffee table pushed against a wall, leaving the space between you and him empty, stopping in your tracks when he faces you.

His shoulders visibly relax, the two of you stuck in place, staring at each other with looks like you cannot believe the other is there and alive. Years of thinking you’d never see one another again, and now you’re in the same room, breathing the same air, feeling so relieved and happy.

Something shifts, both of you realizing you’re alone and don’t have to fear any interruptions, the energy igniting, eyes going dark with want—all of the hours you’ve spent together building up the tension for this very moment, it snapping with the pillows falling to the floor, unable to keep away from each other any longer, closing the distance in quick steps.

His hands cup your face when he reaches you, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, feeling his happiness, his joy, each press of his lips telling you he’s happy you’re alive and here with him. The passion has your fingers threading into his grey waves of hair for something to hold onto, gasping when he eagerly licks into your mouth, him groaning when his tongue slides along your own. Your blood is singing in your veins at how right it feels, how familiar it is, twenty years, and you still know how to kiss each other, finding your rhythm, not able to get enough, both so greedy you don’t stop until your lungs ache for oxygen, coming up for air with gasping breaths.

He’s kissing along your jaw, speaking into your skin, “I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

“I missed you, too. Every goddamn day.”

Hands start wandering, needing to feel each other; he’s squeezing and touching anything he can; you’re working the buttons on his shirt and pushing it open to touch his warm skin, mapping out his muscles and the scars littered all over his torso that weren’t there before, wanting to kiss each and every one.

He’s sucking at your pulse point, palming your breast, his other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin buzzing, arousal pooling in your belly.

“I love you,” he rasps as his lips meet yours again. “Never stopped lovin’ you,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too,” your words muffled, moaning when his hand finds its way between your legs, cupping your sex.

“I need you,” he says between kisses. “I’m so fuckin’ hard.” He grabs your hand to press it to his bulge, feeling him straining against his zipper, your cunt clenching at the reminder of just how big he is.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “I’ve missed your dick.”

“I’ve missed bein’ inside you. Wanna feel you again.”

As great as that sounds, your drenched panties indicating just how much you want it—there’s one small problem.

You pull back to see his eyes at half mast and glazed over in lust.

“We can’t fuck,” you say.

He frowns, eyebrows pinching together.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I love you, Joel. I love you a whole hell of a lot—would die for you, but you haven’t showered in days, you’re literally a walking UTI, and as much as I’d love to have that big dick inside me, I am not, risking an infection.” His frown goes deeper. “We can do other stuff, though!” you continue, and that gets his attention. “Hand stuff—no blow job until you’re clean,” you quickly add. He’s thinking it over, the wheels turning.

“I get it,” he finally responds. “You’re the doctor. You know what you’re talkin’ about. After a good scrub, you’d wanna?” he asks, looking hopeful.

“God, yes. I’m praying there’s someplace to wash when we get to Tommy’s.”

He smiles.

“They’ve got workin’ water in the houses—hot water. I can take a shower to get all nice and clean for you, and I’m sure he’ll set us up someplace with a bed.”

“Nobody better need us for a day or two, then,” you say, hooking your arms around his neck. “We won’t be leaving it.”

“Is that so?” He crookedly smiles.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve got time to make up for, and I want to feel you for days.”

He kisses your chin, lightly nibbling on it before trailing along your jaw to your neck.

“You gonna let me fuck you full of me? Fill you up?”

“Until I’m stuffed,” you moan, pussy pulsing at his words.

“Fuck,” Joel groans. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“You love it, though.”

His head comes up, looking you in the eyes.

“Love you more,” he rasps, kissing you hard with his hands on your waist, thumbs playing with the waistband of your scrub pants. “When’s the last time you showered?” His question said into your lips.

“This morning.”

“Thank Christ.”

It’s disorienting how suddenly he pulls back, confusion on your face as he bends, roughly pulling your panties and pants down your legs.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you ask as the cool air hits your bare skin.

“I can’t fuck you, but you didn’t say anything about my mouth.”

He unties your shoes, sending them thudding across the floor.

“You’re gonna eat me out?” you gasp. “Right here.”

You have to hold onto his shoulders for balance as he gets your lower half undressed.

“Right fuckin’ here.”

Once you’re naked from the waist down, he’s groaning as he gets up, kissing you quickly before he moves the short distance to grab a pillow, letting it fall to the floor beside you when he returns, watching as he discards his shirt, and unbuckles his pants, getting them undone.

You can tell he has a plan, knowing exactly what he wants, and you’re happy to go along for the ride. A surprised sound leaves your mouth when he kisses you hard, all tongues and teeth, his body pressed to yours, his hand squeezing your bare ass, while the other moves down your front, moaning when blunt fingers slip through your folds.

“Fuck, you get so wet for me,” he says into your lips.

Your heart is thudding, pleasure radiating in your core as he pushes through your wetness, moaning when he circles your clit, unable to stop from canting your hips into his hand.

“Fuckin’ needy for me, baby.” He nips at your lip before kissing you hungrily, swallowing your soft sounds while your fingers grip his hair.

It’s been so long, and it feels just like you remember. Joel still knows how to play your body, gathering moisture on two fingertips to work against your bundle of nerves, applying the right pressure, circling it just how you liked, his tongue sliding along your own, heightening the arousal, building you up.

With your eyes closed, it feels like you’re back in that little house you had in Austin, him stopping by on his lunch break for a quickie, you both too horny to bother going to the bedroom.

“Wanna feel you come on my hand,” he murmurs.

You whine when he presses one thick finger into you, your hands gripping tighter in his grey waves, when the second one pushes in alongside it, stretching your walls and easing the ache of emptiness.

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moan. “It feels so good.”

He pumps his digits, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking them, it sounding obscene between your legs, him working them in and out, filling you over and over again. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing it while his fingers work; every nerve in your body lit up, fire burning in your belly, knowing this was going to be quick.

Your tongues are tangling, lost in what he’s doing to you, how he’s making you feel, memories of the past, happiness for the future now that he’s here, all of it overwhelming you, rocketing you towards your release, and he knows your close, has always been able to tell.

His mouth separates from yours to speak, “Open your eyes, baby. Wanna see you come.”

You do as he says, seeing his so dark only a sliver of brown remain, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. Panting breaths filling the air, hearing his fingers, Joel taking up your vision, focusing on him, and only him, the world dropping away, everything else forgotten.

He crooks his fingers, and a second later, he’s hitting nirvana, a strangled moan pulled from your throat, your legs going wobbly at the white-hot jolt of pleasure, him having to hold you against him with his other arm to keep you standing.

“There it fuckin’ is,” he rasps. “Come for me—soak my fingers, baby.”

You tumble over the edge with a cry of his name, waves of your arousal spilling around his digits as you tense up, clenching down on him hard, your body alight in ecstasy.

“So good to me,” he groans. “My good fuckin’ girl.”

His mouth is back on yours, kissing you deeply as he works you through your orgasm, every muscle in your body relaxing, brain a pleasurable haze.

God, you’ve missed him. It’s been way too long since you’ve come that hard, and now that you’ve gotten one, you want more, need more.

He breaks the kiss, removing his fingers from you, and you miss them already.

He’s crookedly grinning, eyes bright.

“Do I still got it?” he asks cheekily.

You giggle, playfully slapping at his naked chest.

“Yes, you’ve still got it,” you reply. “Played me like a goddamn fiddle. Haven’t come like that since…” Your eyes squint while you think. “Well, fuck,” you say. “Haven’t come like that since you.”

His chest puffs up in pride, and it makes you snort.

He steals a kiss.

“Fuckin’ glad I didn’t forget how you like your pussy touched.”

“Obviously, it was important to your survival—gotta know how to shoot a gun and finger pussy.”

He chuckles, moving to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah. Lemme see if I remember how to eat it,” he husks, seeing the hunger in his gaze as he lewdly sucks you off his fingers with a groan making your cunt clench. His digits leave his mouth, “Taste even better than I remember. Can I eat your pussy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding your head.

Thinking about it, you’re pretty sure the last person who gave you oral was Joel. Your body is thrumming in anticipation, feeling your arousal coating your inner thighs, excited because you know it will be good.

He crookedly smiles, tenderly kissing you before he gets onto the floor, his head on the pillow while he lays on his back.

This is where you get confused because you should be the one in that position, right?

Tapping on his chest, he says, “I need you to sit right here.”

That’s when it hits what he wants, and your eyes go wide.

“Joel, we are old. I’ll break your neck.”

He makes a face.

“Stop that. You’re not gonna break my neck. Just cause we’ve aged doesn’t mean you can’t sit on my face.”

“My knees would disagree.”

“That’s what the pillow’s for,” he smirks, patting it.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say, moving to sit where he indicated.

Did you think this was a bad idea? Definitely, but the man is so damn eager that you can’t help but want to give it a go.

He’s looking up at you, his hands on your hips.

“Remember how I like it?” he asks.

“Basically suffocating between my thighs?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly,” he replies, slapping your ass and making you squeak.

“If you need to tap out, you better fucking do it, Joel.”

“Of course, baby. Now get up ‘ere. It’s been twenty years too long since I’ve tasted your pussy.”

“Well, aren’t you just rarin’ to go,” you tease.

“Givin’ me shit about how old I am, and now you’re makin’ fun of how I talk?” He smacks your ass again. “Bad girl. Stop hollerin’ down a well, darlin’, and ride my face—I’m rarin’ to eat your pretty little cunt.”

Your head falls back as you laugh, not at all surprised when hands grab onto your ass and start scooting you closer to his waiting mouth, Joel manhandling you into position.

“That was the most yeehaw you’ve ever sounded,” you giggle, your knees sinking into the cushiony pillow on either side of his head, appreciating that he thought to grab it.

You’re sitting up, hovering over his mouth, shivering when there’s a wet streak of lips pressing kisses along your inner thigh, savoring the scratch of his beard.

Fuck, he’s gonna have you coming quickly; you just know it with how your pussy is throbbing.

“You know I don’t fuckin’ talk like that,” he says below you, kissing your other thigh.

His hands are gripped tight on the globes of your ass, squeezing your plump flesh.

“No, you don—“ the word breaks into a moan as he pulls you down, breathing you in, the hot air ghosting over your sensitive flesh, sparks dancing in your center when he nudges your clit with his nose.

His voice is muffled, “Smell better than I remember,” he groans. “Gotta taste. Sit.”

He’s helping you lower down until you’re touching his skin, not satisfied until his face is fully buried in your sex. You scrabble for something to hold onto at the first swipe of his tongue, your fingers landing in his hair.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

One taste and he becomes ravenous, his loud groans vibrating against your heat, obscenely licking and sucking, his hands guiding you so he can slurp up every last drop of your arousal he can get, drinking down everything he can, relishing in the prickle of his facial hair.

It’s so much better than you ever could’ve imagined, the man feasting on you like a starving man, rocking your hips, his fingers digging into your ass, humming appreciatively as electricity ignites under your skin, body vibrating, Joel working you up.

You’re gasping his name, feeling your orgasm build. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, the pleasure causing your eyes to roll back in your head, moaning loudly, tightening your fingers in his grey waves.

“I’m so close,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck, Joel. It’s so good. You’re so fucking good. I’ve missed you.” You’re so drunk on what he’s doing, you’re rambling. “I’ve missed this. Don’t stop. Make me come.”

You feel him groaning, Joel doubling down and focusing on your bundle of nerves—sucking it, licking it, lips and tongue worshipping you until you’re cresting, body seizing up as euphoria floods your system with a gasp of his name.

His loud, long groan vibrates against your sex, his mouth moving to drink your release straight from the source, pushing his tongue inside of you as deep as possible, licking into you eagerly, wanting to get every little bit of you as he can.

Your body’s trembling, pussy fluttering, panting out breaths, feeling so fucking good as Joel helps you ride out your high.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this much pleasure, and it’s intoxicating. You’re used to getting yourself off with your hand when the need arises and have only had a few partners over the years—the sex always quick and to the point, an orgasm never guaranteed, and here was Joel making you come twice in less than an hour.

He’s spoiling you, you’re addicted, you never want him to leave.

Broad strokes of his tongue through your slippery folds has your back arching, surprised he’s still going, knowing it must be hard to breathe down there. Your body is scorching, feeling like you’re burning from the inside out as he licks every inch of you, reacquainting himself with your cunt.

He lifts you up a little, and you hear him take a big breath.

“Ride my tongue, baby.” His voice is rough, strained. “Use me to get yourself off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m damn sure.” He smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and use me.”

You suck in a breath, pussy squeezing hard around nothing. He doesn’t let you reply, sticking his tongue out and pulling you down on top of it.

Your legs are closed around his head, his beard scratching against your thighs, hanging onto his hair for balance.

Grinding yourself against the flat of his tongue, he lets out a long broken moan, his grip on your ass tightening as you do as he asks, chasing your pleasure, using him, still so sensitive from your previous orgasms that the familiar heat was already growing in the base of your spine.

His mouth is hot and wet, working yourself up, pressing your clit hard against his muscle, moaning at the sparks of electricity shooting through you as you rubbed along it over and over again.

He’s groaning loudly beneath you, and you can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, going faster, eyes squeezed shut, panting out moans. You know your skin will be tender from his beard, and you don’t care—this is worth it, your pleasure heightening, muscles in your belly beginning to tighten, Joel drowning in your pussy.

The sensations overtake you, everything coming together, falling over the edge with a cry of his name. Your legs are squeezing his head so tight as the wave of pleasure rolls through you, starting in your core and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes.

Joel makes a strangled noise beneath you that has your eyes flying open, almost falling on your face as you quickly move off of him, ending up with your ass on his chest, looking down at him between your legs, your heart hammering in fear that you killed him—his eyes are closed, face completely lax, and glistening from your juices, his arms laying limply at his sides.

“Joel?” You pat his cheek. “I swear to god, Joel, if you die from suffocating in my pussy, I am bringing you back to life to kill you myself.”

“Not dead,” he slurs, eyes still closed.

“Thank god.” You rub your thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, sliding your fingers into the hair over his ears, him humming contentedly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Came so fuckin’ hard.”

Your eyes widen, looking behind you to find his softened cock out of his jeans and resting on his stomach, streaks of come painting his skin.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Looking back at him, you ask in disbelief, “You got off from eating me out?”

“Yeah.” He smiles dreamily. “Fuckin’ love your pussy. Missed it so much.”

You snort, rubbing your finger down the bridge of his nose. With him so relaxed, he looks like your Joel from twenty years ago, and it makes your heart squeeze over all of the time you missed with him.

What would’ve been different if you’d been together when the world ended? Would Sarah be alive? Would the two of you have still survived all these years?

You let the questions disappear as quickly as they came because there’s no point in pondering them. What happened, happened. You’re just thankful that by some miracle you found him again, that you both are now determined to stick together and live whatever days you have left by each other's sides.

“Aren’t you a romantic.” You trace over his wet lips, which are surprisingly soft.

His hand comes up to grasp yours gently, his practically encompassing yours. Featherlight kisses are pressed to each of your knuckles and, finally, your palm. His eyes blink open, all heavy-lidded to look at you.

“Fuckin’ love you more,” he says softly.

You feel yourself melt under his tender gaze, seeing the truth in the dark depths of his eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you guys done fucking?!” Ellie yells from upstairs.

Joel’s eyes go wide, cheeks turning red, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Give us a minute!” you reply.

“Okay!”

“Don’t look so embarrassed, Joel,” you say to him, tapping the tip of his nose. “It’s not the first time we’ve been caught, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”

He groans, pressing his hands to his face.

His words are muffled, “It’s just as embarrassin’ today as it was twenty fuckin’ years ago.”

“Hey, look on the bright side, babe. Ellie didn’t see anything. Remember how scarred Sarah was that one morning you forgot to lock the door? Thank god we were under the covers, but I thought she’d need therapy.”

“Don’t remind me,” he replies, looking at you again. “Taught her to knock, though.”

“Yeah, it did.”

There’s a lot of groaning as you both get up from the floor, knees not as young as they once were, Joel and you agreeing that maybe you guys should stick to fucking on furniture. After a quick search of the downstairs, you’re able to find a relatively clean towel for Joel to clean up with; you're already dressed. He hollers at Ellie that it’s safe to come down after his shirt is put back on and pants are righted.

She stomps down the stairs like she wants to make sure the two of you know she’s on her way, you and Joel standing by the dining table, passing a bottle of water between each other.

She covers her eyes with one hand when she enters the living room.

Joel huffs out an amused breath, shaking his head as he takes a drink when he sees her.

“There’s zero nudity, Ellie,” you reassure her. “It’s safe to look.”

She uncovers her eyes, “Can’t be too safe,” she says. “Last thing I want is to have to gauge my eyes out because I saw Joel’s old ass.” She makes a disgusted face, and you laugh, Joel snorting.

“What happened to spendin’ the evenin’ readin’ your new book?” Joel asks her.

“Ran out of water,” she answers, holding up her water bottle. “I’m fucking thirsty. Please tell me, one of you has extra.”

“Yes!” you respond, turning to get into your bag and grabbing a container of water. “Here you go, kiddo.”

She’s briskly walking over to take it, unscrewing it right away to take a few big gulps, sighing happily when she finishes.

“Fuck, that’s good,” she says, wiping at her mouth. Ellie looks between you both. “Thought I was gonna be stuck up there all night. So, based on how you were all over each other in the truck and the disgusting noises that I wish I could unhear, I’ll take it, Doc, and you are back together?” she asks Joel.

His ears are bright red, clearing his throat.

“That we are,” he answers, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you fucking blushing?” she teases.

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her.

“I’m just giving you shit, Joel. Hopefully, she can help pull that stick out of your ass.”

He sighs, and she laughs.

“I’m happy for you, ya big ol’ grump. Doc’s great! I see why you like her, and Jesus, I’m not into sappy romantic bullshit, but you guys have a great fucking story.”

“We really do,” you say, looking at him and finding his eyes are already on you.

“That we do,” he agrees, a soft smile on his lips, leaning in to kiss you.

“Oh, gross.” Ellie sounds disgusted, fake gagging. “I’m going back upstairs. I don’t wanna see this, and I definitely don’t wanna hear anything, so please keep it down. Yuck.” She doesn’t wait for a response, walking away.

You pull apart, looking at Joel.

“We’ve scarred another kid,” you laugh.

“I don’t think, too bad, though,” he chuckles.

“No, not too bad. Now, if she saw your old ass, she’d definitely need therapy.”

He frowns.

“My ass ain’t old.”

“I mean…” you pause, leaning to look behind him at it. “It’s still really nice. Like my god, you could bounce a quarter off it, and the way that I wanna touch it.” You straighten, meeting his eyes. “After you shower and I can get you naked, I am absolutely getting a closer look.”

He smirks, setting the water bottle down on the table, so he can pull you into his arms.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah.”

His head moves closer, hovering his lips over yours.

“When I can get you naked,” he rasps, “I’m spreadin’ you out on a bed and spendin’ hours between your legs, usin’ all that God gave me to make you come so many times you pass out.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You know it is, baby.” His lips meet yours, kissing the air from your lungs.

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solar-wing · 9 months

Text

⚣ Predator & Prey 🔥

Check out Part One🦍 if you haven't already!

⚣🔥 A/N → For anyone who has read the previous version of this on my original account, no you're not crazy. In the process of me editing and revising, I took out and/or added some parts. Which. speaking of, the NSFW is over 2000 words longer than the original. I need to be stopped. WARNINGS: INTERSEX Male Reader. Canon-Typical Violence. Dub-Con slightly leaning into Non-Con. Emotional triggers. More Ass-smacking. Manhandling. SFW Version Posted here. NSFW version posted to Patreon (IT'S FREE TO READ)!

⚣🔥 Summary → After an eventful afternoon of being manhandled and groped by your sexually crazed teammate, your teammates finally managed to subdue the Kryptonian and get you out of his grasp, thanks to Batman's insurance policy. As you all leave him to recover and rest after learning the serum's true purpose, you find yourself trapped inside a powered-down with only you and Conner left inside. How are you going to get out of this one?

⚣🔥 Words → 7.5k

REBLOGS and replies are very appreciated, please 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🔥

Half an hour.

It took half an hour for your team to free you from Conner’s grasp. And these people had the nerve to call themselves heroes.

They chased him throughout the entire Cave while sealing off the exit in the vehicle hangar since he tried to escape the headquarters with you.

All you could do was watch from your position slung over the Kryptonian’s shoulder as they tried different tricks and ambushes to subdue him. At some point, you used your powers to melt the makeshift cuffs on your wrists, freeing your bound hands which Conner was not happy about at all if the way he spanked your ass said something about it.

Whenever you tried to free yourself from his hold, he’d spank, pinch, or claw at your butt as a punishment. He’d sometimes shake you around a bit to try and disorient you. It worked in his favor since you spent so much time hanging upside down while being jerked around from his constant running and leaping, that it’d leave you dizzy at times. Your legs had even fallen asleep at some point while your neck was sore from constantly having to hold your head and upper body up.

Thankfully, with your now free hands, you could hold yourself up easier by placing your hands on Conner’s back. Which was totally not extremely hot and attractive from how sweaty and shiny his skin looked from the parts you could see through his torn shirt.

So not hot.

Yeah, I’ll take $1000 for WORLD’S BIGGEST LIAR!

Anyway, that was just Conner’s way of dealing with you. He was much more brutal with your friends.

Your comrades may as well have been world-class villains the way he was fighting them. But, that was only if they tried to help you or got too close for his liking. If they attacked him, he’d just maneuver and dodge out of the way.

Red Tornado was right with his earlier warning to the group. Conner didn’t seem to care about himself, he only cared about keeping you out of their reach. In his primal state of mind, you belonged to him, and so he was defending his territory.

At one point, Wally got close to freeing you. While Zatanna and M’Gann kept the Kryptonian distracted from the front, the speedster sneakily sped up behind you two to grab your hands, thinking he could just pull you off from Conner’s shoulder before he could react.

Unfortunately, you both once again underestimated his abilities. His reflexes were fast enough that the second he felt your body start to slip from his hold, he turned around and had Wally by the throat against one of the walls. Even though he didn’t try to choke him, it was enough to shock you all.

Conner only let him go when you pressed glowing hands against his back to burn him which earned you a hefty smack on the ass. You’d be very surprised if you looked in the mirror and didn’t see an outline of Conner’s handprint on your behind which also had to have been red like a tomato from his rough treatment of it. Just from how hot and stinging your skin felt under the suit, you knew it would be sore and you’d have trouble sitting for the next few hours.

You’d pretty much lost all hope until Batman pulled out his ‘contingency plan’, a ring made of green kryptonite he had stashed in his utility belt.

When Conner was distracted, the Dark Knight swooped in and got one good hit across the face with the ring, which was enough to disorient him and loosen the grip he had over your legs. You immediately took advantage of the moment to free yourself, reaching your arm backward to press your glowing hand against his arm holding your thighs. He screamed in pain, which you felt bad for, but when his arm dropped as he shook your hand off, you finally could roll off his shoulder onto the ground, happy to feel a solid surface again.

The Kryponite obviously did a number since Conner didn’t recover as fast. But, it wasn’t enough to knock him completely back. The moment he realized you were no longer in his hold, he screamed out in rage before trying to grab you again.

Batman swooped in and got another hit before he could reach you though, this time on his abdomen knocking him down. Then, Robin came by with another larger piece of kryptonite, just in case. Where Batman had all this kryptonite stored, you didn’t know. Frankly, you didn’t think you wanted to know.

You hated hearing his screams of pain, but you’d rather he be knocked out and sedated than trying to pin you against another wall.

Well, maybe you wouldn’t mind that. Just without the aggressive and dominant behavior.

Alright, you wouldn’t mind that either!

You just didn’t like it happening in front of your friends. It was all you could do to even glance at M’Gann when she and your teammates came to help you onto your feet as the numbing feeling slowly retreated from your legs.

Even your waist was sore since you spent so much time hanging from Conner’s shoulders. You were just thanking whatever deity out there that you didn’t pee yourself while all this was happening because the pressure against your bladder seriously made it quite the job.

Speaking of, you really should go take care of that.

“He’ll be fine.” You heard Batman say as you returned from the showers. When you made it to the bathroom in time, you decided to take a shower as well, stripping your suit and throwing it into the wash for…reasons.

Don’t ask.

You found your team in the medical wing of the Cave, standing around while listening to Batman’s diagnosis.

“It indeed was a serum designed to amplify Conner’s basic primal instincts. The same instincts we all have but have somewhat regressed over time due to evolution. His Kryptonian genes increase these instincts naturally on their own, but the serum manages to subdue the human part of his DNA and mind, turning his brain into a more primitive state. Had it been fully administered, we would’ve been dealing with an enraged and homicidal animal. But, since Y/N prevented that, we got–”

“An enraged animal with a bad case of blue balls.” Wally cut in while snacking as usual.

“Yes, that,” The Dark Knight said, turning back to look at the computer. Red Tornado was by another computer, analyzing the samples of the serum they’d gotten from the syringe you recovered.

“It seems the serum is not permanent. After a diagnostic scan of vitals, the dosage has already started to dissipate as his immune system works to remove it. With his Kryptonian DNA, it should be fully neutralized by the end of the day.” Red Tornado stated.

You could feel the tension in the room relax as your friends were happy to hear your comrade was going to be okay. Moreso, he wasn’t going to wake up and try to kill them all again, even if he didn’t really try in the first place.

“We need to move to the Watchtower. With this new development, the League needs to be aware of these new tactics our enemies are using,” Batman stated, closing his screen before walking off towards the central room, Red Tornado following closely behind.

You and your friends could hear the Zeta tube powering up, as the system announced your superior's departure. The room fell quiet for a moment.

It didn’t last long before Wally spoke up. Typical.

“Well, today’s been fun,” He said with a mocking tone.

You all laughed at the sentiment. Even with the chaos today, you could admit that the day’s events did make for a funny story in the future, despite how embarrassing it was.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” You heard Zatanna ask.

“Oh, other than basically getting molested in front of my team and carried around like a sack of potatoes, I’m feeling quite good. A little warm, if not,” You joked.

Your friends chuckled at your lightheartedness, respecting the obvious fact that you didn’t want to talk about the situation. Especially Wally, who was aware of your feelings towards your team’s resident Kryptonian.

Your eyes floated over to the green martian, who despite putting on a smile, you could tell was also affected by this…ordeal.

“Sorry, M’Gann.” You said, not knowing what else to say.

Everyone shifted a bit uncomfortably as well, knowing that the subject of Conner & M’Gann was still a little touchy. Why did they break up? None of you knew besides them, and you guessed they wanted to keep it that way. It was just surprising since they seemed like the perfect couple, but as you were keenly aware, some things weren’t always as great as they appeared.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s not your fault. Conner and I broke up, so there’s no reason for me to be upset.” She said, giving you a reassuring smile. You were happy to see she wasn’t holding anything against you, your friendship still intact.

“I’m just glad you stopped Ivo before he could give Conner that entire dosage. If this was him on just half of that serum, I don’t even want to begin to imagine what could’ve happened if he succeeded.” Kal said.

You all shuddered at the thought.

“Well, I’m still offended over the fact he basically said we all stink.” Artemis expressed.

“I don’t know about that. He may have been right about you. I mean, have you ever stopped to smell your armpits in your suit.” Wally teased, holding his nose and waving his other hand in front of it.

“Oh, I know you’re not talking! Have you ever smelled yourself after one of your runs? It’s like a sweatshop found inside a dumpster.” Artemis mocked in return.

They were about to continue their bickering, but at the behest of Kal, your friends moved out of the medical wing and headed toward the kitchen and lounge room to make some dinner, giving Conner time to rest. Wally asked you to stay behind though for a second, promising the others you’d catch up in a minute.

“You doing okay?” Wally asked, pausing in his gorging of pretzel sticks.

You needed a moment to think. Were you okay?

Despite basically being molested (even if you liked it), something was nagging at the center of your chest. Was it the fact that you hated how you may have hurt M’Gann by her being a witness to her ex trying to do you against the cave walls? Or was it the fact that you actually didn’t feel all that bad because a part of you liked the fact that the Kryptonian was more focused on you for a change? It was no secret you could’ve done more to escape his grasp. But, did you hold back because, in reality, you wanted it to be real?

Well, that was obvious.

You didn’t want to escape his grasp. You wanted it to go further. The idea of Conner taking you against your will, having his way with you in that aggressive and animalistic way? Not only was it A) extremely hot, and B) one of your biggest wet dreams since you met Superboy the day you first joined the team, but it was the fact that you were actually living out that fantasy.

The boy you were crazy for was showing you attention. He was focused on you and your wants. But in the end, it was only because of the result of some crazy hormone-inducing drug. It wasn’t genuine. It wasn’t real. A cruel but typical twist by fate.

Well, as typical as you can for someone of your lifestyle.

This was worse than those times when you'd find out a guy was straight after you felt like they were flirting with you. Only this time, the flirting was in the form of ass-groping and manhandling which again, you did not object to at all.

Oh shoot, Wally was still waiting for an answer.

“I’ll be fine.” You said, not knowing how to express how you felt to the speedster without breaking down.

“I know it’s gotta suck man. Having your crush all on you like that only for it to be because some evil Doctor wanted to use him to kill us all.” Your friend replied, placing a hand on your shoulder for comfort.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his idea of comfort. The boy may be extremely smart, but as the famous statement proves time and time again, common sense wasn’t always so common. And the idea that you probably didn’t want to hear that what happened between you and Conner was fake, and would probably…not even probably, never happen again was in short, like pouring salt on an already bad wound.

But, it was Wally. The notion was appreciated anyway.

“I’ll be alright man. Yeah, it was nice to feel like for a moment, I had something I wanted in my grasp, but I always knew in the back of my mind it wasn’t real.” You expressed, the words feeling like a hard swallow in your throat.

“Sorry dude. But, to be fair, it was more like you were in his grasp,” Wally remarked.

“You just can’t be serious for more than three seconds can you?”

“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I saw the look on your face when Conner had you against the wall.”

Wally placed himself against the wall behind him, mimicking the position Conner had you in earlier, “Oh no, stop Superboy, please don’t take me against your will, even though I want you to, you big strong brute. Oh no…”

You pinched your nose while holding back your laughs as Wally continued his performance. If this is actually what you looked and sounded like, you’d be casting yourself off to the nearest deserted island to hide away in isolation for the rest of eternity.

You had to give him props for his acting though.

“Huh, didn’t take you as one with a touch for the dramatics.” You joked.

“What can I say, I’m a gifted man.”

“Oh you’re something alright,” You two continued joking back and forth with each other as you started to exit the medical wing. You took one last glance at Conner who was still out cold, then a thought struck you.

“Does Batman always keep kryptonite on him?” You asked, pausing in your walking.

“Yep. Apparently, he’s got stockpiles of it in the Batcave. Calls them his “insurance policies” in case Superman was ever to fall under the control of the enemy like what happened with Vandal Savage and his cronies. Dick says he’s got insurance plans for all the members of the league for ‘just in case’ purposes.” Wally answered, still stuffing his mouth with pretzel sticks and using one of his hands to create air quotes.

“Even us?”

“I don’t know but who knows? You know Batman. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have something up in that tool kit of his or somewhere around here.”

You nodded your head, not knowing how to reply to that. I guess it was good to have protective measures in case something like that were to even happen. It just disturbed you how Batman knew enough about everyone in the League to know their biggest weakness.

To your knowledge, you didn’t have any direct ones. The only thing you knew regarding your powers was that as long as your body temperature stayed at a certain degree, your powers really couldn’t be nullified. And they were more connected to your emotions anyway so there wasn’t anything you could think of that Batman could have against you, but even then…

We were talking about the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’. As Wally said, you’d be surprised if he didn’t have something up his sleeve.

As you and your friend exited out of the medical wing and headed for the lounge room with the others, neither of you had caught the moment when Conner’s fist clenched at his side.

The day was over and you were walking back toward the central room, about to Zeta tube yourself back to your city and head home for the night. Wally, Robin, and Artemis had already left while Kal, M’Gann, and Zatanna decided to go walking around Happy Harbor.

Red Tornado hadn’t come back from the Watchtower yet so it was just you. Well, you and Conner, but he was still passed out in the medical wing where you and Wally left him.

Batman and Red Tornado said the serum would have been out of his system by the end of the day. You figured that and all the fighting must have exhausted him so he was just catching up on some Zzzs. Lord knows you were ready to do the same after the day you had.

The Cave was quiet, which was unsettling considering there was always something going on which resulted in noise, leaving an eerie feeling in your chest but you decided to ignore it. Reaching the central hub and entering the coordinates into the mainframe you heard the chamber begin to activate before the power suddenly blinked out and the Zeta tube shut down.

“What the heck?” You muttered to yourself.

The red emergency lights came on as the system announced a power failure as the backup power generators kicked on. You pulled your communicator out to call your friends, but all you were getting was static.

“Ugh, crappy service. How do you have the most high-tech gadgets, and still can’t get a good signal even in a cave?”

These people needed some serious priority checks.

You placed your backpack down at the center console before conjuring a fireball in your hand to give you some more light. You headed down the hallway, hearing the sounds of your footsteps echo in the halls.

That creepy eerie feeling had returned, and you could feel yourself slightly on edge. When you made it to the generator room which also happened to be the vehicle hangar, you looked around trying to spot which one was the panel you needed to open.

Suddenly, the sound of movement caught your ears, and you jumped around heart racing preparing to launch your fireball at whatever the source was. You stopped yourself in time though when you saw it was just Sphere and Wolf, sitting at the entrance of the cave.

You brought your hands to your heart, feeling the intense pumping underneath your chest as you tried to calm your breathing, “Dammit guys, don’t scare me like that.”

They stared at you, not really moving or doing anything. Well, Sphere kind of always just stares since she doesn’t have a face. But, Wolf looked weird. Instead of laying down and relaxing like he normally does, he just sat there on his hind legs, as if he was standing guard or something.

“Alright, you two are officially acting weird. But, I’ll just chuck it up to the power outage. Don’t worry, they make me nervous too. I’ll figure it out.” You said to them, neither really responding. Not that you’d understand anyway. That was more up Conner’s alley.

You let the flame encircle your hand again, as you looked at the walls to see the cable paths and where they led. As you traced their lines up and around the walls, you finally saw where they all converged, seeing multiple different panels lining the wall.

“Bingo.” You smiled.

Walking over to the different panels, you looked at the different labels to see which was which. When you found the one labeled ‘POWER’, you put in the code to unlock the panel, opening it up. You checked the fuses to see which one had been blown, but they all appeared fine.

Your sinking feeling started to return as you couldn’t figure out what the problem was until you saw it clear as day, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a result. The switch for the power generator was in the ‘Off’ position.

A fuse wasn’t blown nor was this the outage. Someone deliberately shut the power off.

“Ah, fuck!”

You felt your heart jump in your chest when a hand suddenly grabbed you from behind while another came up to cover your mouth, your screams muffled under their palm. Whoever your attacker was attempted to pull you back as you fought against them, wrapping their arm around your neck while you were doing everything you could to throw them off of you.

Your hands flew to their arm around your neck to pull as you felt them tightening it, restricting your airflow. A familiar chuckle sounded in your ear, but you were too focused on getting yourself free to think about it. They had caught you by surprise, but you’d be damned if you were going to let them think they had you so easily.

Hands glowing bright orange, you took them and aimed for what you hoped was the person’s face. Your attempt was successful as you felt one of your hands make contact, your attacker screaming in pain while releasing you to probably rub their face.

Wasting no time, you leaned forward before launching yourself around and performing a roundhouse kick straight to their face, not giving them any time to recover.

They fell back on their butt, hands still covering their face. You didn’t pay attention to their clothes or anything about them as your arms began to grow that orange hue again, preparing to roast them like a Thanksgiving turkey.

“Alright buddy, I don’t know who you are, but you choose the wrong place to trespass and the wrong person to attack,” You said, getting ready to release a volcano level of heat upon them before you finally saw their face when they brought their hands away.

“Conner!” You shouted, pausing in your movement.

The half-Kryptonian looked at you for a brief moment before you saw a smirk on his face as he launched himself at you with his usual shout, taking advantage of your hesitation.

You grunted as he tackled you back onto the ground. His hand immediately went for your neck again as you saw an arrogant but lustful gaze on his face.

‘Guess the serum didn’t wear off completely after all,’ You thought to yourself as you wrapped your hands around his wrist, trying to pull the hand off of you. You felt his other hand tracing down your body, but considering this time you were in shorts and a tank top, you were more receptive to the touch as he was now getting to feel your bare skin without the barrier of your super suit.

The feeling was nice, but you weren’t going to let yourself go down that road. You would not allow yourself to be played with like that. Not again…

“Sorry for this Conner,” You said quickly, a confused expression crossing his face before he watched your eyes also glow bright orange, two beams of concentrated fire shooting out of them and directly into his eyes. He screamed in pain, releasing your neck as you brought back your foot and kicked him off you.

While he recovered, you got back up and ran to the power generator. You switched the power back on, watching as the lights came back. Your moment of reprieve was short-lived though as the Superboy had recovered and was coming right for you.

You reacted quickly enough though, grabbing the hand that was reaching out for you before swinging your body under him with his arm, twisting it behind his back. He yelled out in pain while you blasted him forward to the ground.

His frustrated breaths filled the silent room as he got himself back up. He slowly turned himself back to face you, a calculating expression on his face.

Conner? Calculating his next move? Instead of just rushing you?

Yeah, it was time for you to go.

When the Kryptonian realized you were about to move, he tried to rush you again but you had blasted yourself off the ground. Moving to head back through the hallway to the central hub where you saw Sphere and Wolf just looking at you. Again, Sphere had no expression, but you could tell by Wolf’s stance that he was prepared to pounce if you even thought about going that way. That’s when you understood.

“So you two are playing guard dog and guard…sphere, huh? Figures.” You muttered.

Wolf huffed at you, not appreciating that comment.

The sound of a crash behind you caught your attention as you turned and saw Conner had launched himself onto the wall, hanging off it like a monkey hung off a tree.

‘For the guy who hates monkeys, he sure enjoys acting like them.’ You thought to yourself.

You realized your predicament when you looked at both your only exits. Try to go out one way, and you’ll have a wolf and an alien sphere that can turn into an entire bike on you. Try the other way, and Conner gets his hands on you.

And even if you managed to make it past Sphere and Wolf without getting maimed, what stopped the Kryptonian from just shutting off the power again before you reached the Zeta tube?

The predator and his cornered prey.

The flames waving off your body were the only sound in the room, as you stared at Conner head-on.

He looked back at you with a challenging gaze before taking his free hand and pointing at you, and then turning those same fingers to himself. His way of basically saying you belonged to him. How romantic…

“Sorry, Tiger. But, I prefer a few dates and gifts before I commit myself to someone. My ex taught me that.”

The Kryptonian growled angrily at your words, not appreciating the sentiment of you insulating yourself with another person. And though you kept a bit of distance between you, you could tell Conner was waiting for the perfect opportunity to nab you.

With everyone gone, he didn’t have to worry about anyone besides yourself trying to stop him. And apparently, he didn’t think you were going to be that much of a challenge. Or did he? Considering he tried to ambush you by shutting off the power, which speaking of?

All of this seemed a little bit too planned out and smart for someone with a primitive brain. Not to sound like you were calling the Kryptonian stupid, because you weren’t, but if what Batman said was true and Conner was really thinking like a primate from the caveman days, then how did he figure this all out?

Waiting until everyone left before shutting off the power to prevent you from leaving? Cornering you in a room where one exit would be out of commission without power and using Wolf and Sphere to guard the only other escape route? And, even if you were to make it past those two and hide somewhere, he could just use his night vision and super-hearing to find you.

It was all too convenient, too thought out to have come from a subdued and horny-crazed mind.

Had the effects of the serum only slightly worn off, keeping Conner in this primal state of mind but giving him just enough cognitive thinking to actually plan out his moves? Could it even be possible that this was actually the Kryptonian himself acting on his own urges, and not being persuaded by some sex juice pumping through his veins?

You looked toward the Superboy hanging off the wall, seeing the way his dilated pupils stared at you, full of lust and want. All of his attention was on you as he gazed at your body up and down.

Then, you remembered something else Red Tornado had mentioned before he and Batman left for the Watchtower.

“As we concluded earlier, Conner, instead of focusing on his natural instinct to hunt and kill, chose to focus on his hormonal urge of capturing a potential mate. And, Y/N apparently had been his choice. Certain wild species are known for choosing their partners based on mating rituals where the dominant has to prove themselves capable to the desired partner by hunting and subduing them. Smells are also a major factor in these rituals, where these animals are known to go after the scent that is most familiar and desirable to them. Though, why that scent happened to be Y/N’s would be a question only Conner could answer.

So basically, the Kryptonian was the hunter, and you were the hunted.

And he set all this up as a test for himself to prove to you that he deserved the right to fuck your brains out.

The predator and his cornered prey. How cliché.

This was a game to the Kryptonian. And what would happen if he’d won?

Conner would get to fuck you, the serum would wear off and everything would go back to normal? And who’s to say the Kryptonian might even remember the encounter?

There’s been plenty of times when you and the Team came out from under a drug or some spell and didn’t remember the events that led you all there. You’d keep all the memories of this exchange while Conner wouldn’t recall a thing, thus, for him, nothing would be weird or awkward. Only you would have to deal with the emotional aftermath of these entire events. Yeah, your friends would be there to help, but it wasn’t them having their hearts and emotions played with, it was you. They wouldn’t understand.

Nah, fuck that.

No matter how hot all of this may be, you were not about to be some one and dump for anyone, even if it was your crush.

Conner stared at you, waiting for you to make the first move. You saw the glow of your body reflected in his eyes, but it was also like you were seeing the fire inside of him that burned for you.

It was pleasant, to say the least.

But, this was once again a cat-and-mouse scenario like earlier. Only this time, you knew the longer the chase went on, the more excited the cat got at finally catching the mouse.

Due to the circumstances surrounding the situation, you could easily see Conner was willing to play the long game. Shutting down the Cave, using Wolf and Sphere as accomplices to this whole thing, cornering you in the vehicle hangar, he was willing to let this play out as long as possible. As long as it ended with him getting to mount you like some dog.

No offense to Wolf.

And, waiting till everyone was out of the Cave? Not having to worry about anyone interfering since there was virtually no way to get back inside the HQ without blowing a hole in the mountain, which also would alert the Kryptonian, thus giving him enough time to make a swift exit with you if need be.

‘Nope. It ain’t going down like this.’

Conner tilted his head when he saw you slowly backing up. He could tell you were up to something.

Before he had time to react, you shot off all the energy you could summon to create a giant firewall. You knew it wouldn’t hold him since he was invulnerable. But, you were counting on the distraction it would give you.

You flew back as if you were going to fight your way through Sphere and Wolf who were ready for you. When you heard Conner’s scream behind you as he launched himself through your wall straight for you before dodging out of the way, letting him crash straight into Wolf and Sphere while you made a break for the hatch door.

Not wasting any time, you immediately went for the control panel to the garage hatch door and entered the command to open it. You didn’t have much time though as you’d hoped when Conner realized your deception. And he was not happy about it if the frustrated yell he let out was anything to go by.

Slowly backing up as the door opened more, you let off a torrent of fire waves at the Kryptonian as he tried to make his way toward you. His shirt got more and more singed as he pushed through your power attacks. You didn’t let up though, needing the door to open just a few more inches for you to get through.

Why was it on any other day, things like this door seemed to move faster, but when you needed them to move quickly, they went slow as hell?

‘Come on… come on…’

As soon as the door was open enough for you to fly through, you shot one strong fire beam at the Kryptonian to push him back as you flew backward, moving as fast as you could.

When you made it through the hatch, you let your power go as you flew out of the Cave, making your escape. You felt relief run through your body as you looked at the night sky and the moon shining over the ocean, but that feeling was short-lived.

You’d gotten about 50 feet away though before you felt a strong force tackle you down before lifting you back up, stopping you from hitting the ground. Turning your head, you looked to see Conner staring at you with a smug look as he held your squirming body in his arms, you both floating high above the ground.

“Conner?! Ho- … How are you flying?”

As far as you knew, because he was only half-Kryptonian, he only got half of Superman’s abilities. The only way he could unlock all his powers was using one of those patch things that subdued the human side of his DNA and – oh.

FUCK!

He tucked you under his arm without a second thought, having you face toward his back before flying back through the garage hatch door. You did everything you could to get out of his hold, but there wasn’t much you could do to the Kryptonian since he was invulnerable, especially now that he was at full strength.

When he got you both back inside, he entered the command to close the hatch door before smashing the panel entirely, rendering the door useless. But, he wasn’t done there.

Using his own heat vision, he created a seal around the edges of the door, locking and securing you both inside even more just in case your teammates got back and tried to force it open. He even zapped your butt with it as well, chuckling at the yelp you let out.

Once he finished that, he let you down before backing you against the wall, an egotistical smirk on his lips as he rubbed his hands down your body. He didn’t waste any time before shoving his face right into your neck again, licking and biting wherever he could as he forced your body to grind against his.

‘Not this again.’

It took a little work, but, to your luck, since Conner was overconfident thinking he’d won, his guard was down.

With a little maneuvering, you let the Superboy feel the blunt force of your knee against his super jewels. Pun intended.

Kryptonian or not, that’s a type of weakness no guy can overcome.

With him crouched over in pain, you shoved him off before attempting to fly back toward the main tunnel. If you couldn’t get out of Mount Justice on your own, the best you could do was find somewhere to hide until the others got back.

But, Conner still wasn’t letting you get away from him that easily. He grabbed you by your ankle before pulling back and throwing you to the ground, managing to disorient you like earlier when the MONQI robots had dropped you. He placed himself on top of you to pin you down but you didn’t come this far to give up now.

You shot your heat vision at the brown-haired boy’s eyes again, missing by a few inches but snagging him in the face. Visibly angered by this and done with your defiant behavior, he wrapped his arms under you to lift you from the ground and slam you back down, prolonging your daze. You continued to fight back though, especially when you noticed something metallic and shiny he grabbed off his belt.

How you didn’t notice it there before, who knows.

And quite frankly, you didn’t really care.

All you were concerned about was not letting him get it on you. You quickly blasted him some more with your heat vision doing everything you could to shove him off you. Almost managing to succeed too until Conner got the upper hand when he ripped his tattered shirt off his body and covered your face with it. Your heat vision burned right through it, but your temporary blindness provided the Kryptonian with the opportunity he needed to slam whatever that metal thing was around your wrist.

The moment it snapped shut, you felt a shudder run through your body as a chilling sensation took over. Next thing you knew, the flames around your body and the glow in your eyes had completely dissipated.

‘What the…’

You tried to summon a fireball, heat blast, or even a tiny little flame with nothing happening, your powers seemingly gone. Conner, who was now completely straddling your body, held another smug look on his face as his accomplishment. That’s when you looked at the wrist clamp the Kryptonian put on you, seeing the blue dot glowing at the center of it. Whatever was blocking your powers was being caused by this device, which meant this could only be one thing.

“Huh, so Batman did have an insurance policy for me. Great…” You muttered, hearing a satisfied chuckle from Connor. Your eyes went wide when you realized something.

“You were awake earlier! You were awake the whole time. You heard me and Wally talking!” You accused, but the half-Kryptonian didn’t reply. Only continued to stare at you, not hiding how his eyes crawled up and down your body which was covered in a fair amount of sweat from your earlier brawls.

You tried to see if you could knock him off while he was gloating, hoping the combat Batman and Black Canary taught you didn’t fail you at this moment, but the brown-haired boy was once again ten steps ahead of you as he grabbed both your arms, slamming your upper body back down to the ground.

A frustrated cry left your lips as you stared up at the boy who was still gloating as he reached into his pockets while pinning your hands above you. Looking down, you saw him pull out a pair of metal handcuffs, and not any regular kind either. These were League-style restraints that were almost impossible to break through or escape.

“Don’t you even think about it,” You warned as he smirked at you before moving off your body to flip you around on your stomach.

A pleased growl left his lips as he watched your thrashing body move on the ground, trying to escape his hold. He placed himself above your squirming legs holding them together while conveniently positioning his crotch right above your ass where you could feel him rubbing his hardness against you.

It was all you could do to not moan out loud while trying to calm the horniness down in your own body as you felt the Kryptonian ground himself against you. Of course, this little distraction tactic of his was purposeful as he brought your arms behind your back, placing your wrist into the handcuffs to bind your hands together.

With you fully secured and nowhere to run, Conner took a moment to admire his prize, unconsciously puffing his chest out at his successful capture. You could feel his excitement as well as he continued to grind his front into your rear end, leaning over your body to nip at the back of your neck.

You did your best to hold in your noises of pleasure in plain, not wanting to give any more smug satisfaction to the Kryptonian. Of course, he didn’t appreciate this sentiment one bit, moving off you to flip your body on its back before moving himself in between your legs. His hands found their way back to your hair and around your waist as he yanked your head back, exposing your neck to him while lifting your lower body slightly off the ground to rub both your crotches together.

The moan that escaped your lips was almost inevitable from the friction you felt between your legs as he ground your pelvises together while having a field day on your neck.

With you fully bound and virtually defenseless, nothing was stopping him from having full access to your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the pleasurable feelings running through different areas of your body, but it didn’t do much as you felt yourself getting wet in your pants again.

It didn’t help that your clothes were fairly thin which he definitely appreciated if the way his hand around your waist was caressed your body said anything. A bonus for him but a negative for you was the Kryptonian’s shirtless state allowing you to feel the heat from his skin against yours even through the loose garments of clothing on your body.

You could smell the dark brown-haired boy’s musk, which was amplified slightly due to his mild sweaty state from your earlier scuffle. While you were never one who liked the smell of funk, you couldn’t help that the scent for whatever reason went straight down to your pants, making you even wetter than before which the Kryptonian could also feel from his skin rubbing against the dampening spot on your shorts.

Suddenly, he quickly leaned up with his hands still holding onto your head forcing you up with him. He’d made sure to grab his shirt off the ground before pinning you against the wall. You groaned from the rough treatment as you felt his hands grabbing at your tank top before you heard a loud ripping sound, looking down to see Conner had split your tank top apart.

“Hey! This was one of my favorites, you freaking brute.” You complained.

He tore a large piece of your shirt off before sticking it in your face, letting out a small grunt as he waited for you to do something. You stared at him confused for a few seconds until you realized what was happening. He was ordering you to open your mouth so he could gag you.

“Oh, you’re out of your geno-morphing mind if you think that’s happening.” You retorted with a defiant tone, the Kryptonian narrowing his eyes at you.

Before you knew what was happening, he grabbed your jaw with the torn piece of your shirt in his hand, forcing you to tilt your head up before his other hand laid a heavy smack on your ass causing you to yelp.

The moment your mouth flew open, he stuffed the shirt into your mouth, muffling the sound of your scream. You thrashed around more in his hold, trying to spit the piece of clothing out but he pressed his body against yours rendering you still.

While holding the first piece of cloth in your mouth to keep you from spitting it out, he grabbed his torn shirt, craftily using his hand to twist it into a tight long piece like people do with wet towels before proceeding to snap them at you like their whips.

He placed his twisted shirt directly on the cloth between your open lips, before wrapping both ends around to the back of your head, tying them together in a tight knot, securing your makeshift gag in place.

The Kryptonian let out his own bodily sounds of approval and arousal at the sight of your helpless and available body.

With your arms restricted and mouth gagged, it was easy for him to sling you back over his shoulder, with you whining from finding yourself back in the same position you were in earlier. He stepped over the mess you two (well, really you) made, not even bothering to clean it up.

You were still moaning and whining softly into the garment stuff in your mouth, as you tried to calm the growing arousal in your abdomen. Conner smiled proudly at that, feeling pride at the thought that he was the source of your aroused and excited state. before heading back over to the switch panels, shutting the power down in the Cave again.

Now, it was time for him to claim you fully, without any more distractions or interruptions.

‘Mine,’ He softly growled, squeezing your ass with his hand as he walked up the ramp, your head and body slightly bouncing up and down with every step the Kryptonian took. He walked past his two-door guardians who turned to follow after having bared witness to your entire pornographic display with their half-human companion.

Conner won, and you’d failed. He managed to catch you in his trap, despite all your efforts of resisting him.

The predator had finally caught its prey.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

Patreon link for the full version!

🦍 | Part Three | 🦍

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

hi hii lovie!! would u mind doing a short blurb of miguel being with a harleyquinnfem!reader? i just rewatched suicide squad and birds of prey and i just think margot’s harley quinn and miguel would be such an iconic pairing given those two have complete different personalities lol, thank you!! hope u hv a good day!

HELLOOOOO !! OMG, ok i just wanna preface this, i am not exactly very well-versed in a lot of DC characters so i'm really sorry if i end up not doing requests for those characters or if the execution is really shitty, BUT THIS ONE IS SOMETHING I'M A LITTLE MORE FAMILIAR WITH AND ONE I WANNA SEE :'DD again, REALLY SORRY IF I DO IT HORRIBLY 😭😭😭but here ya go, i hope you like it anon <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x harley quinn!fem!reader

summary: you two agreed not to kill each other, which is easier said than done; but someday, eventually... you'll come to realize that he sees you as more than an extra hand in fighting off tricky villains, that he cares about you more than you'll ever know. word count: 853

right as miguel thought that this would be the end of the line for him as the villain kept him pinned against the ground–about to dissect his innards and skin him like a spider to be taxidermied–he soon heard cackling from far away. he rolled his eyes further into the back of his head in an attempt to roll them weakly out of exhaustion as he groaned in utter defeat.

'great, that pain in the ass knew i was here.' he thought to himself as you came with a bang–quite literally as you blew up a street on your way here and caused 12 cars to crash into each other. "hey you ugly, bowl cut bitch!" she called out to the villain miguel was being pinned down by. you giggled as you jumped up in the air and swung your gigantic mallet at the cybernetic villain and bashed her head in. you licked your lips at the destruction, and the villain–despite looking banged up and having a few sparks flying out of the right side of her head, smirked at you. "that all you got, ya little harlot?" she asked as her grip on miguel's neck tightened, eliciting groans and grunts from her sheer strength.

you giggled as you swung your mallet for show. "now, now, if anyone's gonna choke little miggy 'till he's blue in the face and sobbing and begging for forgiveness, it's gonna be me." you declared as you jumped up again and brought your mallet down to squash her–but the villain aimed at you with their finger guns and shot lasers at you as you were in mid-air. you grinned wider as you contorted yourself in the air to dodge the lasers; you were very flexible and super fast, and miguel knew that very well. the villain didn't give up, however, as she shot at your blind spot, getting you by your feet and causing you to lose balance as you got shot in the knee.

you grunted in pain as you fell down, with the villain laughing as she turned to miguel. you got up and watched as the villain leaned over to kiss miguel, "fucking gross." you muttered as you tried getting up to your feet, when you heard the villain yelp a little as she froze up and loosened her grip around miguel. you giggled as you watched miguel get up and look at you from the corner of his eye. "all yours." he muttered as he helped you up.

"wait," he said as he webbed up the gaping wound in your knee from the shot. "can you walk?" he asked you with a tone of concern in his voice. you didn't answer him as you climbed onto him and whispered in his ear, "toss me." miguel was used to this showy scene, though he hated doing it–out of fear he'd throw you too far. he followed through however and tossed you at the villain, who was recuperating from the paralysis miguel's venom gave her. taking out this villain was like a walk in the park for you as you brought your mallet up and whispered a little, "bye-bye!" as you brought down your vengeance–or just utter desire to hit something right now–upon her with a loud smash!

you skipped over to miguel with a bright smile on your face. "job's done!" you said with a perky voice as miguel rolled his eyes as he looked over at the damage you caused on your way here. "this is, what, four million dollars in property damage?" he asked you sarcastically, to which you giggled and counted on your fingers. "correction, fourteen million dollars!" you said with a giggle as miguel opened a portal and gently took your wrist in his hand as he dragged you along. "hey now! you promised me that next time, we'd go sight-seeing in the universes we're in! how dare you break your promise, miggy?!" you whined as miguel placed his hand under your chin and gave you a stern look.

"when you'd behave." he said as he leaned down a little towards you. "it'll happen if you prove to behave yourself, and this little stunt you pulled off, it calls for a good talking to with you. you'll get what you want from me if you behave, do i make myself clear?" he asked you as you nodded slowly and smiled up at him. "gotcha, miggy." you said in a chipper voice as you walked through the portal, then running back out, but with miguel grabbing you by the collar and dragging you back in. "the things i do for you..." he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. though, weirdly enough... he finds your chaotic way of saving him a little endearing. either you've pissed him off so much that he misses feeling responsible for your mess, or it's that you've had his heart ever since you tried to kill him the first time you two met. ah, well, it doesn't matter now; as long as you're safe, and will get that wound fixed up, he wouldn't have you any other way.

a/n: i love this dynamic WAIT AAAAAAAAAAAAAA also thanks ate @binibinileonara for risque's nickname :> also SHET PARE, i fr was so desperate to see miggy's eyes roll to the back of his skull when the vulture was choking him, like- please.

tags !! @binibinileonara @miguelswifey04 @luvstarrstruck @fiannee @yuridopted0

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #harley quinn #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse

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serene-sun · 10 months

Text

𝕾𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊, 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𓅓

Pairing: rain x gn reader fluff/comfort

Warning: panic attack, separation anxiety, fear, overthinking, fear of something bad happening, hyperventilation, crying, if I need to add something let me know!

Summary: being far away from home is never anyone’s desire, especially with so many people to care about

A/n: so I’m writing this falling asleep so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. This is pure comfort that I need rn bc this is my exact situation rn and my anxiety is through the roofs. Nevertheless, just being on a big ass tour bus freaks me out rn. All of this is based on what I’m feeling rn. TYSM for any comments, likes, and reblogs! <3 (Plz excuse the amount of times I say “rn”)

The bus rocks gently as you roll over to your other side, now facing the cold window. You felt the metallic side of the glass swoosh cold air onto your skin, the itchy blanket being pushed down to your feet in a temporary fit, the soft blanket you brought from home wrapped you into a warm embrace.

You brushed the hair out of your face, stretching an arm to move the curtain to reveal the moving road. The interstate signs passing by like shreds of light, the passing cars with different people in them. The landscape changed from high mountain tops and trafficked roads to small hills and starry skies.

As cars passed by, the red lights shined through the bus windows and cast dancing shadows across the many accessories across the rooms.

The windows ripple as rain softly runs down the sides of the bus. A tingling noise scattered about the walls, getting louder than slowing only to repeat that process.

Besides the sound of wheels on the road, you could hear faint honking and sirens as the city roads faded in and out between modern and rural.

You wondered if everyone at the ministry was doing ok, what if there was a fight between aether and the older ghouls? What if the higher members were plotting against papa? What if there was a fire? What if?

You’ve caught yourself on your own tongue as you realize you are too far away to do anything about it if you wanted. Just knowing that you were thousands and thousands of miles away from home made your stomach flip.

What if we were to get into trouble? What if someone saw what we advertised and wanted to hurt us? What if they were attacked? What if someone had a medical emergency? What if-?

Your heart beats, it pounds and it begs your brain to stop running so fast. You’re forced to put a hand over your mouth, realizing that you had forgotten to breath. You exhale, a shaky breath as your body desires more air. Your chest burns, and your skin starts to sweat.

It seemed like you were alone now, everyone was asleep so if something happened nobody would be able to help.

You saw how all of their privacy curtains were closed, it was so late even Swiss and rain were far off dreaming about the next show.

We are billions of miles away from home.

You feel the darkness creep into your top bunk, the air turning on you and swallowing you whole. The rain starts to pour onto the bus harder, streaks of water now blurring every car.

Where could I go? There is no where to go! I can’t escape, I can’t escape, I’m all alone!

You feel a thud, and realize that there’s a webbed hand on the side of your bunk. It dips into the mattress, although it’s dark, you can make-out a slender form that slithers its way up into your bunk.

Of course it’s rain, why would it not? Maybe the rain outside woke him up, or did he ever go to sleep?

“What’s going on up here?” Rains voice is just barely audible, so soft the rain over powers it, “I could hear you all the way down there.”

You pretend to be asleep, hoping the water ghoul will just go back to his own bed. You shuffle a little as he brings the blanket under his own legs.

“Sorry.” You squeak out, you knew you can’t ever lie to him. Number one because he would know, number two because he had such a kind sense to him that why would you need to?

“Hey, it’s alright.” He nudges his head over yours, laying behind you and wrapping a hand around your abdomen. “Woah, sunshine what’s the matter?” Rain feels your heart beat, that’s currently acting like you’re in a marathon.

Your lack of air won’t allow you to speak, all you can do is count the cars that speed by.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

“Honey….” Rains concerned now, he tries to turn you to face him, but you’re forced to stay still.

Your mind taunts you, every second that passes by, the further you get from safety.

“Look at me.” The ghoul demands, now scared of what’s overcome you.

He watches your chest rise and fall rapidly, you’re shaking so hard the others might wake up.

Rain forcefully turns you over, hearing a whimper escape your lips.

Your eyes let go of the built up tears, they begin to run down your face just like the rain drops one look away.

The bus shakes and bobs with the road, rains grip on the sides of your arms release. He grabs your hand and places it over his own heart.

“Hey, hey, hey look at me little drop.” He hold your hand there with his own, making you feel his heart beat, “I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

You quiver, your eyes finally meet his.

“It’s ok…it’s all ok.” He brings his other arm around your back and brings you into a tight hug.

“I want to go home. I need to make sure they are alright. Are we alright?” Your breath fogs up the window and rain wipes away the tears on the apple of your cheek.

“We are fine. We are safe. We are together.” The water ghoul states firmly, as if it wasn’t anything anyone could ever change or question.

“You are safe with me, right here.”

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #ghost band #serene sun writes #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #ghost band fic #rain ghoul x reader #rain ghoul fluff

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sinkingnotsoslowly · 1 year

Text

No More Love Left

Pairing: (f) Reader x Seungmin

Non-idol au, fluff, mostly angst

Warnings: Unrequited love, mention of a breakup (not y/n's), slight Minho x reader, curse words, suggestive, mention of making out

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

Loving him was giving your all. A petal of rose each day. Until there’s no more left to give.

You too wanted your high school sweetheart story with Seungmin. But so did all the other girls in your year. You were close to him than the girls could ever be, his best friend. But that didn’t mean he was attainable. You still gave him chocolate on Valentine’s Day, “Oh obligatory chocolates? Thank you (y/n)”.

You thought you were leaving enough hints when you took extra notes when Seungmin was sick and couldn’t come to school. You even added little ‘get well soon’ and funny footnotes to cheer him up and then took them all the way to his house after school. But you realised that it was nothing extraordinary thing to do. Anyone would do that for a friend. So you started a ritual of giving him a flower each day when he came to school. “What’s this for?”, he asked with visible confusion on his face. “I’m growing them in my backyard. I thought it will be a beautiful start to your day”, you tried to look as unaffected as possible. Seungmin shrugged, “I can’t decide if that’s sweet or cringe”. Cringe, you decided.

You gathered enough courage to confess to him on graduation day. So you left a little note on his desk telling him to meet by the ground. But you didn’t have enough courage to leave your name on the note.

To your surprise Seungmin did not come alone, a girl from your year was there too. You crept in closer to listen to what they were talking about. It was a breach of privacy but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst. Was she really doing what you thought she was?

“I really like you. Will you go out with me?”, damn. But Seungmin wouldn’t say yes, would he?

“Okay”

A gasp made both of them turn to look at you.

“What are you doing here (y/n)?”

“I-I was looking for you. Mom wanted a picture of us both. I see that you’re busy, I-I’ll wait by the gate”, you ran off from there as fast as you could.

You did not wait for him that day, just went straight home with your mom. And then when Seungmin called, you lied about feeling sick. It seemed that’s what you kept doing these days, lying to your best friend. But you knew for sure that if you were honest you would end up losing him for good.

One would think their childhood crush would fade away with time. But yours didn’t.

But two ended up going to the same college with different majors. But still had a few classes together. And by God was he distracting. He sat in front of you. So the only thing you did in your shared classes was stare at the back of his head with heart eyes. “(Y/n) you’re so whipped for Seungmin it's pathetic”, Felix said to you one day during lunch. “Wait how’d you know?”

“Are you kidding me? Everyone has noticed by now. Even Hyunjin’s dramatic ass. And yet Mr Oblivious has not”, he said as stole your fries.

“Felix, whose side are you on? It’s good that he hasn’t noticed. He even has a girlfriend for God’s sake”

“So what? Just cause he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean that can’t have feelings for you. Maybe he just wants to see you react to him dating. It can be your best-friends-to-lovers story”

“You’re watching too many dramas Felix. Get real”

Felix let out a sigh, “You can at least try you know?”

“And lose a friend? No thanks”.

And thank God you didn’t take Felix’s advice because you found Seungmin and his girlfriend kissing at the park the next day. Even if you knew that he had a girlfriend, things actually felt real seeing him smiling like a puppy while looking at that girl. Maybe partly it was his fault, he treated you too kindly, never let you feel that he was spending any less time with you because of his girlfriend. But seeing your world in someone else’s hand made you question how much love you had left to give to him.

Turned out it was a lot and not enough at the same time. Hyunjin dragged you to the dance major party on Saturday because “Just cause you didn’t get to have a high school sweetheart story doesn’t mean you can’t have a college hook-up story”. And for once he was right. You were tired of everything because every time you saw Seungmin you felt like you lost a bit of yourself by giving him all the love that you could. So you let yourself get chatted up by this really handsome senior who showed you pictures of his three cats. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol but everything he said seemed ten times funnier to you. You even grinded against him while dancing and made out below the stairs. Eventually, you two ended up in someone’s room upstairs. You really thought you could do it. Minho was very good at what he did until you moaned Seungmin’s name. You swore you would never show your face to him again.

But Minho was a kind soul, he didn’t judge. He tracked you down during lunch on Monday.

“I get that you have issues but I really liked talking to you. I would love it if we could at least be friends. I’ll even let you meet my cats”

“Are you trying to bribe me with your cats?”, you asked.

“Is it working?”

“You can have my number”.

Minho was a very good friend and he was funny too. He let you meet his cats like promised. “Dori are you really ditching me to play with someone whom you know for two weeks?”, you giggled at his playfulness.

“Just accept it Dori loves me more”

“You traitor, see if I buy you any more toys”.

The only sad thing was he would be graduating before you. But he insisted that he would never lose contact with you. He would spend his whole life trying to seduce you if he had to.

“Is that the real reason you befriended me Minho? Just to sleep with me?”, you mockingly pouted making his ears turn red.

“W-What no believe me I really did not”

“It’s okay I’m just joking”.

You felt happy during the time you spent with him. It was enough to keep your mind off of Seungmin. You thought you had finally exhausted all the love you could give him, all the petals had fallen. Until one night he showed up at his doorstep, barely holding back tears.

“She broke up with me”, you brought him to your arms. You really thought there was nothing left, you were done. But you were clearly mistaken as your heart ached at his sight, and it was definitely not just feeling bad for a friend. Your world did not deserve this sadness. That night you let him find comfort in your space, consoling him the whole night. And a part of you felt a surge of hope which you knew was wrong but you couldn’t help it. Maybe, just maybe this time on he would look at you, and give you back all the petals that you gave.

masterlist

Autumn's sighs- little soft thoughts about our favourite boys

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floralcrematorium · 4 months

Text

OKAY WOW THERE WAS A VERY BIG POSITIVE RESPONSE TO THE TELEPHONE GAME, HI

FOLLOW THE TELEPHONE GAME BLOG! @hws-telephone

I thought about making a discord, but to be entirely honest, I really don't want to manage that. In hindsight it might be good for discussions and feedback's sake, but my moderator days are behind me (I used to be a discord and in-game mod for a Minecraft server and I think I would rather eat my hand than do that again.) We will. See.

PLEASE READ MY FOLLOWING THOUGHTS ABOUT THE EVENT! I would love to hear feedback, but I think this kind of event may have to be a trial and error sort of situation. I've never hosted an event before and this is one that will move semi-fast. I will also need to be holding decent communication with people!

• Skill level does not matter. Anyone is allowed to participate regardless of their skill level or materials of choice, so long as those who work traditionally are able to get clear/well lit photos of their submission

• I will need to hold an experimental round capped at 5-7 participants. I do not know how long I should give people to complete their part. Life gets in the way and I know not everyone is fast (I am very much not fast). However, considering there will be a large number of participants, we gotta get moving! I think as of right now, everyone would have 3-5 days to complete their parts, and if they need an extension they get 2 days. If we need more time, that's possible! THE FIRST SIX PEOPLE TO FILL OUT THE GOOGLE FORMS (linked further in the post) WILL BE CONTACTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE EXPERIMENTAL ROUND.

• Once we get into it, there could be a short-format and long-format group? Short format being people only get 1-3 days to work while long-format gets a week? The different groups differ based on complexity? Unsure. Need community feedback on this. OR we could just have two separate groups co-running so people don't have to wait forever to play.

• GOOGLE FORMS SUBMISSION HERE FOR PARTICIPANTS

• Once I have The Participants, their usernames will be ordered randomly and that'll be the order the drawing is passed around.

• If this is an event with multiple rounds... Maybe each round has a different theme? I know I have different groups of people following me (off the top of my head, FrUK, FACE fam, and Nordic centric blogs in particular). I think the first round will just be using my design for Nyo!Austria because I'm interested to see if we use a character whose clothing isn't able to be referenced by a quick google search, how that will be affected by the telephone. Unsure.

• I will start the experimental round and the very first Big Round. Other people can volunteer to be the starting artist in the future!

• No posting your submission until the end of the round!!! This is very important. The point of a telephone is you only know what the person right before you did!

• When it comes to someone's turn, I will be reaching out via Tumblr DM (or through another contact method if that is preferred). I'm considering asking someone to co-host this event with me for organization's sake, but I don't. Really have someone to do that. So!

If there's anything else we need to talk about, throw it in the replies!!! This is really going to be a trial and error kinda event until we get it down! Ideally, this would be a fun year round project/event!

BELOW THE CUT IS JUST ME TAGGING EVERYONE WHO REPLIED TO/REBLOGGED THE ORIGINAL POST

Hi, you replied to/reblogged the interest check so you get Priority News that there is a telephone game sideblog to follow @hws-telephone and that if you're still interested there is a submissions post pinned to the blog.

THE FIRST SIX RESPONSES WILL BE CONTACTED FOR THE EXPERIMENTAL ROUND.

@doodlin-moons @hws-lceland @ironic-orange @vikingosten @soulsembers @yaqamole @dappy-dappernette @losnordiquitos @tema-makes-art-sometimes @dandelion-coffee-bear @spiritmoon23 @genpaele @astrophilic-soul @batataaurdoodh @the-heaminator @krazys-ass-emporium @sixcatsinajacket @hoasens @wackylittlegal @starsilversword @untitled-kitsune @2p-nyotalia

#hetalia #hetalia fandom #hetalia event #hetalia fanart #hetalia telephone game

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factorialsotherfandoms · 6 months

Note

hi hello this is user a_Saga_in_progress from ao3 and I uh. am new here. idk if this is how this is meant to be used but I wanted to say hi! do you have advice on how tumblr works for new users?

Hello its lovely to see you! And yeah if someone's ask box is open putting 'hi' is perfectly acceptable <3

Advice on tumblr... Err... Okay first off I've been here for over 10 years and /still/ don't really know how it works. But! I shall do my best.

If you're on browser, take the time to install xkit rewritten (or whichever form of xkit is most up to date). This has so many quality of life features like auto-tagging your reblogs and making tag bundles

I can't remember if tumblr by recommended is still a thing, but go into your settings and tell it to display dash in chronological anyway. I'd also recommend turning ON custom theme (biggest bonus - a version of your blog that links can be made to without tumblr demanding viewers log in on mobile - but also enables a month by month fast archive), OFF share following, and have an explore about other options. Things like turning your ask box on and off and also submissions are super helpful if you ever have problems with people sending you hate. I've been lucky enough not to, but its a social media platform, it can happen. Also you never have to have asks or submissions on ever if you don't want to. I'd also recommend snoozing tumblr live every month because otherwise you will be shown pictures of half naked women on your dash trying to get you to use it. God only knows why.

the site runs mostly on reblogs. This puts a copy of your post onto your blog, where people who follow you can then see it in turn! You can add comments to these - which again is always acceptable so long as you're being polite - which unlike twitter quote retweets will not 'steal' stats from the OP. You'll get notifications for likes and reblogs with that addition, the OP will still get those ones as well. Same goes for writing things in tags.

There's 3 ways to add comment on a post - reblog with comment, tags, and replies. Comment is just you add more stuff to the post, and anyone who reblogs it from you will share those too - an addition to the content. Replies are like quiet chatter - anyone can see them and reply if they click the button to view, but they're not in their face. There's often a lot of crap there, but welcome to any platform. Tags are, theoretically, for filing, but because people can see them they're often used to add bits of commentry - in the past they were only visible to your followers and visitors to your blog without extensions, though now they're visible to the OP, whomever you reblogged from, and anyone looking in the notes. However tags have no direct way to reply - sometimes people will reblog from the person whose tags they are responding to, or screenshot them and add them to the post, but there's no built in feature for it unlike replies. Whichever way you choose, comments are how community is built.

Tags! The first five tags are searchable, the rest aren't. Put most important stuff there. The system also breaks constantly.

Learn where the 'report for spam' buttons are for IMs and new followers. You will get some, sooner or later. Even my unlisted side blogs manage it.

You have a limit of 250 posts per day over your blog and any side blogs! I only started hitting this when I started liveblogging qsmp, tho, so don't worry /too/ much.

For sideblogs, the UI for deleting them is /really bad/. If you go to a sideblog, then its specific blog settings, then scroll down to the button which says 'delete [name of sideblog]', this button will delete your entire account, not just the sideblog. And getting it back isn't possible in most cases

Your block list is private, make use of it. Block specific tags for your triggers ("fandom neg" is a good start tbh), spam accounts, block anyone being an ass, block people because you see them a lot and you don't like their artstyle but people you follow do and you just want it off your blog - there is no morality involved in blocking, just do it to make your tumblr a happier place.

Unless someone says not to in their description, just scrolling through their entire blog and liking/reblogging things is fair game.

Likes do not share things to other people (and so artists will get sad if they get many likes and not many reblogs) but are super useful to mark when you've already seen something, or if you're (like me) sometimes on mobile and sometimes on computer and want to save them for the computer where tagging is a bit easier. I'd personally recommend turning them to private in settings, but each to their own.

The queue! Beloved queue. If you add things to your queue they will auto-post later. I use it for when I hit post count, and also to store up reblogged art for later.

Concerning side blogs - you can only follow, like and send asks from your main account, but you can post on, reblog to, recieve messages to, and reply from any (replying from side accounts is very new and very exciting). (So my case is obvious but if you see @factorialrabbits about in your notifications, that's my main, this is a side <3 )

Tagging/atting people! If you want someone's attention on a post, you use "@", then type their name. This doesn't always work, and should be used sparingly as it's basically like showing up to their front door and yelling for them lol. I mostly see it used for reblog games, and if someone's asked for say specific clips or timestamps for a VoD alerting them to a post which has them.

Search is fucky, but its a good way to find art. I tend not to search by tags, just keywords, then swap to most recent. Trying to find a specific post after its gone, though? good luck you'll need it.

Not a modern tumblr, but trivia - historically you used to be able to get an email address for your blog, and any email you sent to that address would be posted to it, and of all tumblr features I miss it the most.

Hopefully that helps? I need to go get some groceries but am happy to answer specific questions if you have them <3 I'm just never sure where to start lol

#ask and answer

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scribbuluswrites · 2 years

Text

The Choice

It’s Friday. And... I’m ready to pretend I’ll get a day off! I’ve got a mountain of chores and the longest practice exam to get through.

As always, thank you for coming along on this journey with me. We’re getting closer to the end now! All of your comments, reblogs, and general interactions mean so much to me. These things keep your local writer writing. :)

Coco opened and closed cabinets in his kitchen. Letti had an annoying habit of leaving any and all food containers empty in the pantry. She didn’t replace things or put them on the list.

He finally found a box with cereal still in it, but then he noticed the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. Coco heaved a sigh, starting to write another angry post-it to leave her. It wouldn’t help, but he still felt like he was accomplishing something.

He gave up on breakfast and got ready for his shift at the yard. Between the lack of tidiness in his apartment, and Kat’s business trip, Coco had been in a bad mood for nearly a week.

“Damn, still no sunshine at casa de Coco?” EZ asked, grinning at the dark frown on Coco’s face as he shrugged on his work shirt.

“Hey Prospect, why don’t you wash my bike?” Coco replied, hurling his keys at the younger Reyes. EZ caught them with a snort, shaking his head at Coco.

“Coco,” Bishop’s voice chimed in. Coco closed his eyes, reminding himself not to throw attitude at the President.

“‘Sup, Pres?” he asked, turning to face him.

“I know you’re supposed to be here all day, but I need you on a run with Angel.”

Normally Coco would jump at the chance to take a ride instead of working at the scrap yard, but he wasn’t sure he could handle an extended period of time with Angel. He’d gotten a little less hostile, but Coco could still tell that he was Angel’s least favourite Mayan.

Coco opened his mouth to mention that, but Bishop cut him off. “I don’t give a shit about your personal issues. I need you to make a delivery to Oakland,” Bishop explained, giving Coco a look that made the younger man want to shrink back. Bishop might be a lot shorter, but he was definitely more muscular and definitely able to kick Coco’s ass.

Aside from that, he owed Bishop his respect. Coco was loyal to the patch regardless of feelings or drama.

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed, nodding. “Think I could stay an extra day? My girl’s in San Francisco for another two weeks.”

“You good with that?” Bishop asked, talking to Angel as he joined them. Coco moved to the side, watching as Angel stepped up beside him.

He could see the argument in Angel’s eyes, but he didn’t mention it, instead gesturing to his little brother. “It’s fine. We’ll take Prospect along since he’s got parole paperwork to pick up in Stockton. I’ll ride out there with him, and Coco can stay in SanFran. We’ll catch up the next day and ride back.”

Bishop nodded. “Just keep your heads down. We don’t need anyone knowing we’re riding through, alright?”

Coco and Angel both nodded. They glanced at each other as Bishop walked away, making a silent agreement to let their issues go for now. Club business came first.

Angel told EZ they were heading out, giving him all the pertinent details. The Prospect didn’t ask any questions, packing up bedrolls and guns for their trip. As the lowest person in the pecking order, he was the one left to get things ready.

The ride up went smoothly. They didn’t encounter any trouble or other bikers, so they decided to take a break just after the halfway point. Coco was starving, and he definitely wouldn’t complain about stopping for lunch.

“So you actually got papers to pick up?” Coco asked, stuffing his face with a fast food burger. It was easier to put EZ on the spot rather than trying to ask Angel any questions.

EZ glanced over at Angel, clearly wanting to tell Coco something. It felt like there was something they were hiding.

Coco looking at each of them, grunting in annoyance. “All that shit with Adelita, and you still ain’t trust me with this?”

Angel sighed, knowing his brother was right. He motioned for EZ to start talking. The main friction between them was dead now, and Angel didn’t see a real point to keep Coco out now.

“How much do you know about Happy Lowman?” EZ started, wondering what Katarina might have told him.

“The Son?” Coco asked, pressing for the Reyes brothers to be the first to share information.

“He and Kat were together,” Angel said bluntly, scoffing at the look EZ shot him. “Look, you told her she had to tell him. If she hadn’t yet, that's on her, bro.”

Coco nodded slowly. “She said you broke into his house. Didn’t say why, though.” He took a drink of his soda, watching the silent conversation the brothers had in front of him.

“That was my idea,” EZ admitted. “He killed my mom. I was trying to figure out why, but things didn’t really go to plan.”

“Yeah, your bitch fuckin’ stabbed me,” Angel interjected. Coco reached across the table, grabbing the front of his shirt. Angel cocked his fist back, but EZ got between them.

Coco let go, but he stayed tense. “Look, motherfucker, that’s my old lady, and you owe her respect. I don’t give a fuck what you think about it or her. Don’t talk about her like that again,” he snapped, his eyes fiery as he stared Angel down.

“Damn, bro, ok,” Angel nodded, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He didn’t look very apologetic, but Coco could tell that he was trying to accept it. “She protected the man who murdered my mom. It’s just hard to get past,” he admitted, relaxing his shoulders.

“She also told us who pointed him that way,” EZ countered. “Kat told us who was behind it, and she convinced Happy to get us some paperwork on it. He left a ledger for us in Charming.”

Coco nodded, realising why they were trying to keep this so secret from the club. There were two big reasons why they wouldn’t want the Mayans finding out. Either they knew the trouble it would cause to insinuate that Katarina knew a Son that well and was willing to share information, or the cartel were the ones aiming the gun at EZ’s family.

EZ leaned forward, knowing what Coco must be thinking. “Kat sort of stumbled on the information in her own way. She made it really clear that nothing came directly from Happy. I guess she got caught between him and the cartel, and…” he paused, letting Coco fill in the rest.

“And she figured it out because she’s Kat,” he said, piecing together her scars and Angel’s story she wouldn’t tell.

Coco was tired of talking about this. He was glad they’d let him in on what they were up to, but he just didn’t like chatting about her past.

“She’s got my back now, so you better watch out, Angelita,” he joked, chuckling at the look on Angel’s face.

“Fuck, bro. She’s terrifying,” he admitted, ignoring his brother’s laughter.

“Speak of the devil,” Coco grinned, holding up his phone, Kat’s name on the screen. “Hey, querida. I got a surprise for you,” he said, answering the phone. He got up and walked a few paces away, not wanting them to hear his entire conversation.

EZ and Angel watched him as he paced a little, a smile on his face the entire time he was on the phone. Angel shook his head in disbelief, shocked to see Coco of all people going gooey like this.

“Oh, man. Coco’s got it bad,” EZ teased, giving Coco shit almost as soon as he got back to the table.

“She owns you, bro,” Angel added.

“Fuck yeah, she does,” Coco replied, lighting a cigarette. “I ain’t even ashamed,” he laughed. “I’m tryna get her to move in. Just gotta wear her down.”

Angel made a whipcrack noise, bumping EZ’s shoulder. Coco raised an eyebrow, and EZ immediately held his hands up. He knew Coco was not embarrassed about his sex life, and he would not hesitate to give some very graphic details.

“Don’t tell us about it,” he said quickly, looking at his watch. “We better get back on the road.”

“Yeah, we don’t want Coco to upset his Dom by being late,” Angel sniped, tossing his arm around Coco’s neck as they walked back to their bikes.

After their drop off, Coco split off from the group, heading west to San Francisco. Katarina had given him the address for her hotel, and Coco was trying his best to remember the directions he’d looked up earlier.

He breathed in the sea air as he drove along the coast for a bit, the hotels and restaurants becoming steadily nicer as he went. Small chains and motels gave way to big, glass skyscrapers as he turned inland again, heading downtown.

“Jesus,” Coco breathed, looking up at the massive tower of the Four Seasons. Kat had told him just to park his motorcycle in front of the hotel and let the valet take care of it. They didn’t allow guests in the garage.

He walked into the lobby, looking around for Katarina. The elevators required keys to get to the higher floors, and she was staying right at the top. The people working behind the check-in desk eyed him suspiciously as he waited, his kutte and boots definitely sticking out.

“Help, there’s a hoodlum in the lobby,” Katarina said, her happy voice pulling Coco away from the chandelier he’d been studying. There was a wide smile on her face as she skipped across the lobby, tossing her arms around his neck.

Coco kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks. He held her tightly against him, dipping her a little as his lips tasted her. Kat was practically breathless as he finally pulled back, grinning at her dreamy expression. He’d started to associate that with the rare occasions when he could leave her speechless.

“Food?” she asked, blinking as Coco tilted his head to look at her. “Dinner,” she corrected, clearing her throat. “Would you like to get dinner at the hotel restaurant?” Katarina was mildly embarrassed that it had taken three attempts to get such a simple question out.

“Nah,” he replied, grinning brightly. “Room service, dulce,” he suggested, running his hands down her back. Coco brushed his nose against hers, his hands grabbing her ass.

Someone behind the desk cleared their throat, and Katarina stepped back, pulling Coco’s hand away and linking their fingers. She led him over to the elevators. She inserted her keycard once they stepped in, pressing the button for the 46th floor.

Coco thought about trying to fool around in the elevator, but it moved considerably faster than he’d expected. He hadn’t been in many tall buildings like this, and the sensation was a little disorienting. His ears popped as they zoomed up, and he leaned against the back wall for a second.

He followed after her to a room marked Presidential Suite, his jaw dropping as Kat opened the door. He’d never seen anything like this before.

“Shit, this place is…” he trailed off, walking over to the terrace he’d just noticed.

“It’s pretty ridiculous,” Kat agreed, following him out into the cool night air.

“You can afford this?” he asked, his eyes poring over the view. The Golden Gate bridge was partially hidden in the clouds, but he could still see it and the bay beyond. “I mean, I knew your business did well, but this is kinda a whole different level.”

“God, no. I definitely couldn’t afford this place,” Kat explained, shaking her head with a laugh. “Remember I told you I was going to talk to a company about partnering? They asked me to stay another week after the conference and come out to see their whole operation. That’s who’s footing the bill for all of this.”

Coco’s eyes were huge as he looked over at her. “Damn, they must really want you to move up here.”

“I think they do,” she admitted, nodding. “It’s actually a really interesting company. They’ve got some cutting edge stuff.”

Coco felt a pit in his stomach as he realised Kat wanted to take the job. He wanted her to take an opportunity like this, but he hated the idea of her living so far away. A long distance relationship was out of the question for him.

“You gonna take it?” he asked, worried about her response. Kat shrugged.

“No. I mean, I don’t know…” she trailed off, leaning against the\ balcony railing. “I definitely wasn’t going to give them an answer without talking to you.”

“Talkin’ to me?” he echoed, stepping up to stand next to her.

Kat grinned at him. “Coco, we’re in a relationship. I’m not going to move without talking to you first.”

“You didn’t want to move in yet, so I wasn’t sure where we stood,” he confessed, swallowing. Katarina reached over to take his hand, pulling him over to the little couch outside. “Why does it feel like we’re about to ‘talk’?” he asked, using air quotes.

“Because we are,” Kat replied, still holding onto his hand as they sat next to each other. “I want this. I really do, but I have to be honest with you. This job would be incredible. It would further my business in a way I can’t even imagine, and it would get me completely away from the cartel. That would be great for both of us,” she explained, feeling Coco start to shut down.

“I don’t want some long distance bullshit,” he muttered, shaking his head. He saw Kat nodding out of the corner of his eye. “The club is my family, querida. I can’t walk away from that.”

“I know,” she admitted. “I got a little swept up in all of this,” she grinned softly, gesturing to the city around them. “I’ll tell them it’s a no,” Kat said, knowing it was a no for right now, not forever. Things changed, businesses expanded.

“Wait, you’re gonna turn all this down? For me?” he asked, his head snapping up as he heard her.

“For us, yeah. Besides, they want more control than I want to give up.” Kat wondered why Coco was still quiet. His eyes flicked over her face, but he somehow didn’t look totally convinced. Katarina let go of his hand, moving to cup his cheek. “I love you, Coco. I’m not going to walk away from that.”

Coco looked startled, like that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. It was then Katarina realised she hadn’t told him that yet. She’d let him know she was present, but she hadn’t told him those three little words.

Kat knew how much they meant; how keeping them away could leave someone unsure and unconvinced that it was long-term. No matter how much else you said, those words were more. She realised she was acting just like Happy had, and it was the last time she’d let a parallel like that happen.

Tags: @gemini0410 @scuzmunkie @woahitslucyylu @chibsytelford @withmyteeth

(my taglist is so far out of date. If you’d like to be added or dropped, please let me know!)

#faking it #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz imagine #mayans #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #angel reyes #ez reyes

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barnes-n-nobles · 2 years

Text

Temper (Dark! Druig Smut)

Request: please another dark! druig smut 😍

Thank you for your request! Please reblog, like, and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, noncon smut, kind of somnophilia, a bit of degrating, Druig has anger issues, breeding kink

Summary: Druig meets you at an event in the Stark Tower. He grows overly fond of you, almost to an obsession.

18+ !!!! If you “keep reading” you are acknowledging that you are 18+ and that you have read the warnings.

Please Do not translate, no permission to repost any of my writing on any other platform, and do not copy this and claim it as your own.

“I don’t understand why we’re here. These parties are pathetic” Druig complained as he walked with the rest of the eternals through the Stark tower. “You think everything is pathetic Druig. Suck it up it’s for a good cause” Ikaris retorted. Druig let out a sarcastic scoff, “Good cause..you know they get a fat tax break if they label anything as a charity event. This isn’t because it’s in the goodness of their hearts, all rich humans are greedy conniving pieces of-” “Enough Druig. Behave” Ajak ordered. “I know this isn’t your scene but I greatly appreciate you coming here with us. It’s just for today and then you are free to do as you please.” She reassured making Druig soften up, nodding his head, understanding.

As the night when on everyone met each other and dinner was soon to be served. Druig spent most of his time walking around trying to avoid everyone. He is used to being surrounded with people who make him feel comfortable and perfectly controlled. The lack of was making it hard for him to stay calm. He walked around mad, his aura making it difficult for people to approach him. Eventually that became the goal for him. Druig got tired of all this and decided to bail, not caring what the rest of his family would say. As he got up from his seat Thena grabbed his hand, “where to?”. Druig swallowed not wanting to seem suspicious, “I’m just going to the bathroom, wanna join? I’m sure you can touch up your makeup there too” He joked making her chuckle, “not a chance. Hurry and come back, Kingo is going to preform soon” she said letting him go. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he sarcastically retorted before heading out.

When he got down to the lobby he controlled some guy in the bathroom to give him his clothes. He took them and erased the encounter from the guys mind. He was now in a leather jacket, pants, boots, and some pretty cool glasses that he got from homeboy in the bathroom. As he was walking out he heard his name being called out. Not in a way to get his attention but it was spoken out in conversation.

Thats when he saw you. Talking fast into the phone, rushing to get somewhere. “I don’t care. I got this little part time gig so that I can see him, I’m not missing out this opportunity just to go to a lame ass party. If Druig ain’t there then IM NOT GOING. I gotta go I’m incredibly late” you barked ending the call and heading towards the elevators. When you crossed him, it was as if you were walking in slow motion. You were captivating. Beautiful would be an understatement, you just exuded it in his eyes. You had the most beautiful eyes, hair, lips. Absolute perfection from head to toe. And to top it all off, you were there for him? He thought to himself not really understanding why anyone would want to see him. He decided it would be best to make at least 1 person happy so he followed you. When you got to the elevator, the door was about to close but then a hand stopped it making you jump at the sound. “Sorry, im going up too” he said smiling. He was expecting for you to fan girl, scream, cry, literally anything girls did when meeting their idols but you just nodded and went back to your phone, not really looking at him. “Going up to the charity event?” He spoke after a couple seconds of silence. “Yes! I’m working it until midnight, how about you?” Asking him and then turning to face him.

There was something super familiar about him, but you couldn’t really tell. You stared at him in a concentrated state trying to remember where the hell you could have seen him. “I’m in it as well. Sort of” he smiled trying to see if you would catch on. “Hopefully we work together! I literally don’t know anyone I’m only here because I want to see all of the eternals in person. They’re so cool” you confessed letting go of your attempt to try and figure him out. Druig smiled making the lines around his eyes apparent, you were so incredibly cute and sweet too? Such a prize. “All of them?” He asked nudging you with his elbow. You giggled, playfully pushing him with your hand, “Okay fine..you got me I’m here for only one in particular. I don’t know he just gives off really nice vibes. Not to mention incredibly hot. Like damn, let me have your babies you know” you joked following it with a light laugh. Druigs eyes widened and his mouth opened to form an O. He was so shocked at what had just come out of your mouth. He quickly felt his body get hot and his jeans started to feel a little tight. “Don’t act so shocked! We’re all thinking it. I mean this man has to have like a million girlfriends” you said again. Druig couldn’t believe you STILL couldn’t figure out who he was. He took his glasses off, staring right into your eyes. “I don’t actually” smirking.

Now it was your turn to drop your mouth to an O. He couldn’t be. Could he? You asked yourself. Druig eyes flashed gold letting out a gentle chuckle, “It is me” he said holding out his hand, his palm facing up, waiting for you to place yours into it. It finally hit you…hard. You couldn’t believe what was happening. This was something that happened in dreams, but it felt so real. Then it dawned on you what you had said a bit ago, your face burning in embarrassment. “Oh…my..God…I am so so sorry. I’m so sorry…I didn’t know it was you! I didn’t mean to disrespect you like that I’m so sorry ugh” you babbled taking your hands and covering your face in embarrassment . Druig just laughed taking your hands in his, “please don’t be sorry, I thought it was really funny. You’re the first mortal to make me feel this flattered” he said taking your hand in his and giving the top of it a kiss as he originally intended. His soft lips were moist when they landed on your hand, and the way he looked at you while he did it…w0w..you were in heaven.

The elevator finally opened at the very top floor and it was time to go your separate ways, “Well Druig it was so nice to meet you. I guess my plans are now exposed so I’ll see you during the event! Hopefully we can talk again soon. I already signed up for this thing so now I have to go through with it. Anyways my name is y/n, it was so nice to finally meet you” you said extending your hand so that he could shake it. Druig smiled and took your hand, but pulled you into a hug instead. He squeezed you tightly, rubbing his hand up and down your back making you get goosebumps. “Pleasure is all mine, my sweet y/n” he whispered before letting you go and exiting the elevator.

With each step that he took he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to keep you by his side, learn about you , see inside your mind. He wanted to be yours and for you to be only his. When he regrouped with the others, Sersi quickly noticed his change of attire. “What happened to your clothes?” She questioned making everyone else turn. “I think he looks great” Kingo said making Druig laugh. “I felt more comfortable in this. I just gave my clothes to a fan and they left, happily.” He lied. “ quote on quote “fan” he probably forced them to” Gilgamesh said smiling. Ajak took a deep breath, “No more of your tricks Druig. Just behave!” She scolded again. Druig just nodded, but wondered how long he would be able to do so when you were roaming around here somewhere.

When it was time for desert you had to go to each table and ask if they were having any. Being that this event was for the Eternals you were sent to them first, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to them. You knew Druig was there, making you excited yet nervous. “Good evening everyone, I hope you’re having a great time here at the Stark tower. Would anyone be interested in some dessert” you asked. You could feel Druigs eyes on you, your peripheral vision catching the slightest sight of him facing you. As you got everyone’s orders you passed by him smiling when both of you made eye contact. His flirty self decided to wink at you, making your face flare up, giggling as you passed. No one noticed as everyone was too busy and entertained in conversation, except for one. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you got a thing for the hostess” Kingo said making Druigs head snap toward him and ripping his eyes from you as you walked away. “I don’t. Mind your own business” he said taking a sip of his drink.

“Dude you know she’s taken right?” Kingo said in a dead serious tone, making Druigs face turn into stone. “She’s not” he stated firmly, feeling himself getting mad. “Yes she is! I literally saw her making out with captain America’s best friend..Bucky I think they call him” he explained. No this couldn’t be, could it? He felt dumb because he didn’t ask if you were taken or even see in your mind if you were. His anger got the best of him, gripping his hand too hard on the glass he shattered it making everyone turn around. Kingo mouthed a “what the fuck” giving his napkin over to Druig. “I was kidding! The hell is wrong with you” he whispered. Ajak saw the bloody cut on his hand and quickly healed him, “Go take a walk and clean yourself up. Don’t come back until you’re ready to act right” she instructed, reassuring everyone that it was just an accident. Kingo felt guilty, maybe messing with him like that wasn’t the best idea, “let me help” he said getting up to follow. “No..I want to be alone” Druig barked leaving the room while Kingo sat back down.

He tried to remember where he saw you disappear to and he remembered you were going towards the huge kitchens. He wiped his hands off before entering, eyes scanning for you. You were rushing trying to get everything nice and making sure the plating was perfect. “Are you busy?” A familiar voice called making you smile. “Never for you. How can I help” you asked turning on your heels. Druig melted at how loving and flirty you were. Just making it that much easier to fall for you. “Can I talk to you..in private” he asked motioning with his head that he wanted to take you outside. “Sure! But we have to hurry because these need to go out in 2 minutes” you explained. “I’m gonna need more time than that” he said motioning to the desert coordinator to come to him. “Take these out on time and excuse y/n for her absence the rest of the night. She’s taking care of some personal matters that have come up suddenly” he told him, his eyes turning to gold making the coordinator nod in agreement as he turned away. It was your first time seeing something like this, it was so fascinating. You’d only heard of his ability to control minds, you never thought that you would be the one seeing it this close up. Druig grabbed your hand and started pulling you out with him, swimming through the huge crowd of chefs, servers, and carts of food. “I can’t believe you just did that! It was so cool” you praised as he finally got you two out. “ we’ll believe it sweetheart, It’s my specialty” he said pulling you in to a room that seemed to be an office. “I noticed..now, what did you want to tell me” you asked impatiently, shaking his arm for him to tell you.

“I’m sorry of this is too blunt but are you seeing someone?” he asked softly, as he placed his hands on your cheek. You shook your head, your beautiful eyes looking up at his, a smile tugging at your lips. “That’s good” he said bringing you close to him, “Because now youre mine” He said, voice barely above a whisper. It’s sounded like he was joking but he also sounded a bit serious. “Druig..We just met. What if I’m not up to your standards?” You confessed hoping that he wouldn’t be turned off by this. “My beautiful y/n..I’m choosing you because you’re so captivating. I just can’t stop thinking about you. It’s been a very looong time since I’ve felt like this. It just feel so right ” he said bringing you into a soft kiss. His lips were so soft and plushy it made you want more. As he was pulling away you reconnected the kiss, this time Druig being caught by surprise. It didn’t take long for him to take the lead again, pushing you against a wall, he started to kiss you with hunger. He needed more of you, lifting your leg up as he ground himself into you, making you moan into him. It was all happening so fast so you broke away from the kiss, “Druig.. I think we should take it slow?” You asked looking at his needy state, his eyes laced with lust and noticeably darker. “I’m sorry y/n..I’m sorry.. youre just so intoxicating I want you so badly” he said pushing himself onto you again. “I want you to! But please I want you to get to know me better. I want to be worthy of you, a grand eternal. Please let’s us take it slow” you pleaded. Druig came back to his senses and remembered where the two of you were. He forgot how good it felt to want someone so deeply, he just lost a little control. Something he wasn’t very used to.

“Of course y/n, let’s take our time. But I have one tiny condition” he said holding his fingers to signify something little. “Yes anything!” You exclaimed. “You have to be my girlfriend, and I your boyfriend. Starting today” he stated. Thinking of it you let out a soft hum, wondering if this would be good. “I promise we’ll go slow on everything, I just don’t want anyone else to have you but me. That’s understandable right?” He said lovingly a he fixed your hair. “Okay Druig we can! But don’t be going all nascar fast on me. Remember..slowww” you motioned with your hands, joking. He laughed and smiled, “anything you want love but you might have to remind me one more time or two..or three” he said pecking your lips.

~~~~a month later~~~~~~~

As you two got familiar with each other it was as if you two were a match made in heaven. He was just incredible to you. He supported you like no one else had done in the past and protected you from anything, and everyone. He was so flirty most of the time but the thing that made you fall deep for him was how caring he was. Everything you’d ever wanted was bottled up and packaged nicely in Druig. On the flip side Druig was consumed by you. He loved everything about you, not wanting to share you with no one. He eventually convinced you to spend most of your time with him , not that you needed a lot of convincing, but he made it feel so comfortable for you to choose him over others. He loved to have you with him always and borderline begged you to sleep over. You thought it was so cute of him to be so clingy but it was soon to change as his obsession got deeper.

You were contacted for another event at the Stark tower and you were going to be working all evening until late at night. Druig was not pleased with this as he didn’t like you being out alone, specially at night. Your cute and flirty personality would certainly draw in unnecessary attention to you, making Druig feel restless as he waited for you to come home. He decided to just head to his house as he was tired of waiting in yours, but he was upset. In his mind he thought it would be a good idea to check in. He wanted to see where you were and what you were up to you. You were clearly busy because you didn’t answer him after the all the calls and texts he sent. He summoned many minds at once to try and find you, not taking long to do so. He was able to reach a person that was near you and Druig was able to listen in on what you were telling your coworkers. “you should totally come with us to the bar after work. Im sure your man wont mind” she tried to convince. “I dont think thats such a good idea, hes already very protective. The last thing I want is for him to be upset with me. Hes wanting me to head home right after work” you explained with a disappointed tone. Why though? Did you actually want to go be a slut for free drinks? Druigs mind was already starting to unravel with negative thoughts.

“Thats so lame y/n, you never go out anymore. Ever since you started dating him, hes got you so trapped. Im guessing sex must be out of this world if hes trying to keep you that badly” she joked making you look down , as you fixed up a plate. “Actually we havent even had sex yet. I told him when we first started dating that I wanted to take things slow. Yeah we get all horny and touchy but I stop it. I think im ready though, I just dont know how to go about it” you confessed, now looking up at your coworker. She had a very surprised expression on her face, “Damn sis, no sex yet and hes being like this? Reedd flag” she said shaking her head in disapproval. Druigs temper has never been the best but this conversation here made him see red. He thought youd be able to confide in him, not vent to some raggedy coworker. Specially about sex. Hes been waiting far too long for you. During those Late nights, he pleasures himself thinking of all the ways he would make you his. How you would moan when he was deep inside you, unravelling under him. “Fuck me Druig..fuck me hard Daddy” the lewd image was burned into his mind, just imagining how fucking submissive youd be for him. So perfect. He had to dig into your mind a couple times to learn how you wanted to be treated during sex, what kinks you were into. The best feeling was when he found out that your kinks mirrored his own. He let go of the person that was listening to you and shifted in his seat back home, trying to readjust his hardened member. There's only so much a person can take, but tonight he had enough. You were going to be his in every way possible. He planned to explain it to you that he could no longer wait, and that he would promise to make it unforgettable.

When your shift was over you headed home. You called Druig and it sent you straight to voicemail. This was not good, he was surely upset. You were so tired from the nights work so you just let him be and hoped that he would cool off in the morning. When you got home, you took a hot fast shower and got into bed. Not a minute after you fell asleep, finally feeling pleased that you were going to rest. Druig eventually made his way back to your house, quickly slipping in as he had a key to your front door that you hid under the welcome matt. He was going to wake you up but as he was about to wake you, he heard you moan his name, making him freeze. “mmm Druig babyy..” your soft low voice grumbled. “y/n?” he whispered not sure if you were awake or asleep. “Daddy pleaaasee” you mewled as your hips shifting up slightly. He could not believe it, you were thinking about him in your sleep. You were having a wet dream. All of Druigs morals disappeared, knowing damn well what he was about to do to you. His eyes soon glowed gold as he kept you deep in sleep, but let your conscious go enough to feel what was going to happen. He uncovered you from the blanket and to his surprise you were wearing nothing. He licked his lips at the site, you were so perfect. He undressed himself and climbed into bed with you, his lips connecting with yours. You felt his lips on yours, making them move ever so slightly. Druig smiled as your body gave in to him willingly, encouraging him to go further.

His lips went to your jaw, down to your neck where he took his time marking you. Feeling the sensation made you shiver, letting out soft moans. “My dirty little girl...youre so wet for Daddy and I havent even touched you up all the way” he grunted into your neck. In your mind, this was a dream. The most realistic and erotic dream, you felt in paradise. “I want y-” you stammered not being able to form a full sentence. “darling im going to give it to you so good, but Daddy needs to feel your yummy little mouth on his cock” he said positioning himself up. He supported his body with a knee right beside your head, his other leg was up, giving himself the ability to dip down his cock into your mouth. He grabbed your face and made you part your lips, pushing himself past them. “Suck me princess” he said, making you hollow your cheeks slightly as your mouth attempted to take him. Druig moaned and shuttered at the feeling of your hot wet mouth. He knew you would be better at this if you were awake but he couldnt have that right now so he settled with what you were giving him. A few pumps in and his dick was wet from your saliva, “youre such a good slut for Daddy, even when youre sleeping” he praised. He got up and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip along your wet folds, making you squeal and move your hips away. Druig smirked as he held them down, “where you going love, im about to tear into your needy little cunt” he darkly chuckled pushing himself inside you. Your face contorted in pleasure, panting at the feeling of being so completely full. Druig hissed at your tightness, leaning down to wrap his arm around you. His nose and mouth twitched at the feeling, his hips rolling into you as he held you. “Daddyy” you moaned, encouraging him to go faster.

“My kitten..youre taking Daddy so so good” he whispred into your ear. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, the wet sound of him ramming into you was music to his ears. You were making a mess and he loved it. He held you as he fucked into you, whispering sweet nothings into the crook of your neck. The feeling was too much, specially when your sweet moans were right in his ear. He was pushing into your gspot with every thrust he did, it eventually pushed you to orgasm, grunting as your body trembled in pleasure. With your erotic moans, he just couldnt control himself, “fuck y/n..im going to cum inside you..my breedable pet” he growled before spilling himself inside you, staying still as he drained himself inside you.He kissed your soft lips as he rode out his high, pushing his seed deeper and deeper inside of you. When he finally pulled out, he cleaned you and himself up before slipping back into bed and falling asleep cuddling you.

The next morning your eyes fluttered open looking at the sun that was poking in from your window. When your consciousness came back you remembered your dream about Druig. It felt so good and real, would it be a good idea to even bring it up? I mean he could see inside your mind one day as see that in there. As you were debating with yourself you rolled over only to stop midway. You quickly sat up scared, not knowing who it was immediately, “oh my god! D-Druig is that you?” you asked looking at his body, his eyes still closed. Your eyes roamed his body, you noticed he was shirtless and that the outline of his dick was showing under the thin bed sheet. He was totally naked! “Goodmorning beautiful..yes its me.” he said with his voice husky and full of sleep. “How did you get in here? wait when did you even come?” Druigs eyes finally opened, side eyeing you before closing them again, “The key under the matt. Stop asking questions, lets sleep some more” he said grabbing you and pulling you on top of him. “let me go..you cant just sleep here without telling me” you said getting off of him now feeling angry.

With your anger, his followed. Before you got off the bed, he pulled you back by your hair and pushed you down underneath him, his hands pinning yours on either sides of your head. “you better fix your attitude before I fuck it out of you. You havent been behaving lately” he said making you confused. “What do you mean?” Druig rolled his eyes, “you talking shit about our relationship to your coworker” he snarled, his grip tightening. “Druig please..i wasn't talking shit, and how do you even know about that. Did you go inside my head?” you asked, alluding to the fact that he couldnt do it because he promised not to. “I didn't have to, I have eyes and ears everywhere, have you forgotten?” he smirked. “Just let me go, I want to be alone” you said that last part barely above a whisper. Druig scanned your face, smirking and shaking his head in disapproval. “Thats not what you wanted last night. I recall you begging for me, princess” he teased placing a kiss on your lips. You didnt know what to say. “It was just a dream” you managed to get out. “are you sure about that? You felt pretty real to me kitten” he moaned as his hips were grinding into yours. What was he talking about? You were literally asleep...unless, “You didnt..” you whispered trying hard to get up.

Druig laughed at your sweet attempts, “Oh baby..but I did and it was amazing. But dont worry, youll be awake for this one” he said pushing your legs apart with his knee, giving him direct access to your pussy. “No!..how could you” you cried moving your face from side to side so that he couldnt kiss you. Next thing you saw were his eyes turn golden, your body stopped its fighting. “Dont act all decent. I know you want me baby..Daddy wants you so much. Now you better act right, I dont want to have to get aggressive..” he said kissing your neck “unless thats what you want” he whispered making you get goosebumps. As he released you, his eyes changed back to blue his hands roamed over your body and stopped at your breasts, he groped them making you whine when his fingers played with your nipples. “Let me ride you” you abruptly said, making his dick twitch in excitement. “Thats my girl” he praised letting you get up. You brought him to your lips kissing him passionately, his hands pulling you on top of him, before you pushed him down. As you were straddling him, you got the idea to run. You swung your leg over and started to run towards the door. As you went for the knob, Druig grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back, making you fall to the ground.

At that point you were scared, not knowing what he would do next. Druig bent down to you and grabbed your neck, keeping your head still and touching the ground. “You almost got me y/n, but I will always overpower you darling. Theres no need to fight me. I told you since the beginning, youre mine and only mine. Just take it and accept it” he said squeezing your neck. Your mouth fell open as you tried to breath, but to no avail. “I dont care if I have to break you. Ive been so patient for you, but now its my turn to do things my way. Do you understand me?” he said letting you go, making you cough as you sucked in as much air as possible. “ill give you 2 seconds to respond” he threatened. “Yyes..I Understand” you replied weakly. Druig flipped you over and held your hands behind your back. “Good girl” he said as he propped your ass up, “Last night I fucked you nice and good baby, I intend to do the same every single day from here on out. The only difference is that you'll be awake to enjoy every second of it. Your greedy little pussy is already soaking for me, just how I want it” he added.

When he slid inside you, it felt so familiar, so deliciously full. You couldn't help but moan, truly disappointed at the way your own body was betraying you. “Thats right baby...Daddy has you filled up to the brim” he voiced full of lust. He grabbed your hips and started ramming into you, making you grunt out as he stretched you. Your face was on the cold floor, moving up and down slightly as he pounded into you. “God youre so fucking tight, I knew your juicy little cunt would never disappoint... Tell me who you belong to y/n” he demanded smacking your ass. “You Druig..” you babbled, your drool starting to pool under your lips. His hand hit your soft cheek a harder, “Try again, you know what I want to hear” he said thrusting harder into you. “Aaah..DD-Dadddyyy I belong to you Daddy” you stuttered too deep in your own pleasure. “youre going stupid kitten. My poor dumb little kitty is so full of cock that she cant even speak right. Thats all youre good for love, to lay there all ready for me to fuck and use, like a toy. Isn't that right baby” he demeaned you. You couldnt even speak, all that you were able to mutter out was a simple, “mmhm”. Your brain not wanting to let coherent words escape your mouth. All his words were too much, the way he talked to you made you cum. The pleasure was too much, and you squirted all over the floor. Druig pulled out of you, watching the way you collapsed on the floor, shaking. It was a sight he knew would never leave his mind. It made him want to do it again.

He bent down to your ear and whispered, “Who said you could cum?” making your eyes shoot open. He picked you up and tossed you back up into the bed. “For being a naughty girl that doesnt ask before she cums, youll need to be punished.” he stated, a sinister smile plastered all over his face. The last thing you saw was his eyes turn gold, then everything went black. You could still hear him and feel around though, “I cant see” you panicked when realizing that your eyes were still open. “Oh I know baby, I blinded you. Now lay back and relax. Im going to have some more fun with you but remeber my rule. Do.Not.Cum, unless I say so ”

752 notes · View notes

wint3r-h3art · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home

Pairing: Shangqi/Shang-chi x f!reader

⚠️Warning: Full smut ahead. MINOR DNI

Summary: Shangqi cannot wait to get home to you.

A/N: Um, after all the angst I put myself and you through, we all deserve this. From me to you, beautiful. Enjoy it. Make sure to have a bottle of water with you, maybe take a cold shower after 💛 Your comments, likes and reblog are always greatly appreciate it, so thank you for reading my works and allowing me to create this filth 💛

Edit: A/N: Contents warning: face-sitting, oral(f-receiving), doggy. If you are uncomfortable by this, do not proceed further.

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It feels like his feet cannot take him fast enough to you.

After being separated from you for what feels like an eternity, Shangqi cannot think of anyone else except you. The training with Wong was nice but it’ll be nicer if you’re there with him.

He’s greeted with the sight of you in your pajama, making something that reminds him of his childhood. He smiles though when he finds you oblivious to the noise of him opening the door with the sound of the range hood on.

Shangqi sneaks behind you as you casually wash the dishes by hand. You let out a yelp as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, dropping the content in your hands.

“Ah! Shangqi!” you turn to hug him only to find yourself being lifted off your feet while his mouth is on yours.

He carries you to your shared bedroom, not caring about anything right now.

“You taste good” he murmurs against your skin as he lays you down on the soft mattress. You whimper softly, clutching his shoulder. Shangqi reaches up and pulls you down, swallowing your whimper as his fingers slide over your sopping cunt. His kiss is gentle, almost too careful. He wants to savor this moment longer.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you push him down and straddle his waist. He groans softly, low and deep in his chest, hands slide down to the curve of your ass as you slowly roll your hips, seeking some sort of friction from him. You hiss softly when you feel his hands squeeze your supple ass. A soft moan leaves your lips when you feel his fingers grazing over the small bundle of nerves.

“Baby you’re so wet for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling you in to kiss your now swollen lips. “Want you to ride on my face,” he stares up at you with now dilated eyes, his hands move to squeeze your thighs.

Getting lost in your haze, you slowly move up, your aching core barely a few inches from his lips. You cannot stop yourself from shivering when you feel his breath on your throbbing wetness. You bite down a whimper when he pulls you down onto his warm, wet tongue swiping over your pussy to test your reaction.

Feeling satisfied with the way your body quivers gently in his arm, he delves his tongue right into your warm pussy, licking and slurping your juices. You are practically gushing onto him. Shangqi laps at your warm, sticky arousal with such urgency now in contrast to earlier, driving you mad. He hums softly, so fucking content and satisfies right now. He loves the way you taste, the way your juices coat his tongue, and the way it drips down his chin. He especially loves it when your breath hitches in your throat, your thighs clam around his ears. There’s something about the way that he’s the only one that can make you lose control like that.

Your eyes squeeze shut, fingers bunching the sheet of your mattress up till your knuckles turn white. You let out a shaky breath when you feel his tongue flicking your clit, igniting the hot, molten fire that burns in the pit of your stomach. Slowly but surely you find yourself grinding against his tongue, wanting more.

Barely able to contain yourself, you let out a soft sob as your toe curls. He’s focusing now on that spot that tightening the coil that sits at the pit of your stomach, his fingers lock you tightly in place. He knows you are close at the way you clenched around his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as he fucks you with more ferocity now, tongue deep in you while his finger flicks over the swollen nub.

Your release comes crashing down, knocking you out breathlessly as your muscles spasm, thighs clenched tightly around his face. Shangqi hums as he feels your gushing release on him, continuing to lap at your releases. You are now slumping over him, trembling, and spent. You weakly move to lay down next to him, breathing heavily. Turning, you can just make out his satisfying smirk covers with your shiny, sticky slick running down all the way down his throat.

Your eyes flutter, lips parted as a soft moan leaves your mouth when you feel his rough, thick fingers at the seams of your folds, gliding into the wetness with ease. Shangqi sighs as he pumps his fingers inside you. Occasionally, his thumb would brush against your clit, making your thighs clench tightly.

A low moan escapes from his lips as he slowly pumps his long, thick shaft with this other hand. Beads of precum glisten over the phallic head. You mewl in his arms as you watch him stroke himself, your pussy aching to be filled by his throbbing hardness.

“Baby, I need you” you moan softly as you move to stroke him, feeling the hot, hard shaft in your palm. He hisses at the feeling of your soft skin against his cock. Fuck, he misses this so much.

Shangqi moves quickly. He flips you over onto your stomach. “On your hands and knees for me, baby,” he says firmly. You gladly comply arching your back up, ass up, giving him a full view of your wetness. He hums in satisfaction as he teases the head of his cock against your slits, coating it with your juices, making you tremble slightly from the sheer anticipation.

With a low grunt, he sheathes himself in a single thrust, filling you completely. You let out a loud gasp, your knuckles white as your hold onto whatever is left of the sheet. It’s overwhelming at the way he stretches you and fills you all at once. Your restrain comes to an end when he slowly moves, withdrawing away from you, making your juices drip onto the mattress before slamming back into you, making you let out, almost pornographic moan when he hits that one spot.

“So tight…” he hisses, fingers dig deep into your hips. You can only respond with an obscene moan. You thought that you can get used to him, but not in this position, not when you feel every inch of him thrusting in and out of you. You clench around him hungrily, squeezing him so tightly, making him growl.

He slams into you harder and faster, splitting you open with every thrust. The obscene, wet squelching sound fills the quiet room. Your moan turns into a choking noise as he fucks the air right out of your lungs, feeling his balls hit your ass with every stroke. Your arms collapse beneath you, your head now buries deep into the mattress. His arms are the only things holding your hips up. Your body feels aflame from his touches, burning each mark across your skin, while he continues to drill into you, driving you closer to your release.

“You feel so good,” he leans over your back, lips sucking at your shoulder.

You moan out when you feel another sharp snap of his hips. The coil in the pit of your belly tightens even more as pleasure continues to build with every thrust. A whine slips out of your mouth, your body trembles when you feel his fingers reaching down to circle your clit. A loud sound escapes your lips as you come apart, clenching around him hungrily inside of you as your body trembles.

Shangqi continues to pump inside you harder and faster as he feels his release near. You find yourself clenching again. He let out a grunt before quickly pulling himself out, letting his warm seed paint you back.

Next thing you know, you can feel him collapse next to you as you try to regain your composure. You turn to look at him as you reach out to stroke his face. He smiles and clasps your hand in his before he places a soft kiss on your knuckle.

“I missed you, babe,” he says.

“Welcome home, honey.”

#shang chi #shang-chi #shang chi x you #shang chi x reader #shang chi imagine #shang chi fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #simu liu fanfiction #simu liu imagine #shang chi smut

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escapenightmare · 3 years

Note

hi ! can i request a scenario where someone flirts with bakugou's (and anyone else you want) s/o right in front of them? without knowing that the reader is taken of course! thanks <3

WHEN SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU.

— izuku, bakugou, denki x gn!reader

cw. people being a bit creepy, cursing, not proof-read. note. 'pretty' is used as a gn term + thanks for requesting!! <3

—— IZUKU cautiously moved closer to you when the stranger; a guy who seemed to be around izuku and your age, looked at you for about the third time that night. izuku didn't know if you'd noticed the guy's wistful glances, but izuku did, and he felt uncomfortable.

his eyes go wide when the guy stands up, walking across the train towards you both in four swift strides.

“hey pretty,” the guy says, taking a seat on your right side. izuku could only slightly gape from the left; his mind still registering what was happening.

you look at the guy in confusion and slight disgust, but before you could speak, he continues. “do you wanna watch a movie later?”

“sorry,” izuku says before he could over think, “but they're taken.” at the silence that followed, he softly added, “by me.”

“oh, sorry-” the guy apologizes (although you couldn't tell whether he was being genuine or not), standing up and walking back to his previous seat in an awkward manner.

“hmph,” izuku huffs, pouting and leaning against your shoulder as you throw an arm around him.

“well that was weird and awkward.”

—— BAKUGOU usually glared at everyone who looked twice his way, and yours, of course, but this time around, he was occupied with doing something on his phone that he barely paid attention to the people on the train (except that he looked at you every few seconds for no apparent reason).

so when this random ass guy walked up to you both and started talking— no, flirting with you, bakugou looks up from his phone so fast he probably got whiplash.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“this doesn't concern you, dude,” the guy says, shooting bakugou a displeased look before he turns back to you with an obviously fake smile.

the only thing running through bakugou's mind is, 'what the actual fuck!?! who the hell does this guy think he is?!!'

and you're looking between bakugou and the guy with an amused look, making bakugou even more pissed. “i'm their boyfriend,” he rolls his eyes at the way the guy flinches.

“oh, um, sorry.”

“you better be, now get the fuck out of here.”

as soon as he leaves, bakugou turns on you with a growl. “dumbass. why didn't you tell him you were taken?”

“i'm sorry, but your pissed off look was entertaining.”

—— DENKI was dazed, and confused. he was watching the scenery outside through the bus window, with a giddy smile on his face. it was so different than the city scenery he was used to. he could barely remember the name of the area you both were at, but he couldn't care less. still, he wanted to know so he turns away from the window, facing you, about to ask the question.

and just as he opens his mouth, a very, suspicious looking guy, who's sitting in the seat behind you, leans over your seat and starts talking to you. denki stares in confusion, what the hell just happened? and he was right about to ask you a question too!

he stays quiet until the sus guys says one word that makes his blood run cold. the guy just called you baby? huh?

“hey babe,” denki exclaims. “what's this place called again?”

and it seems to have worked because the guy sat right back down.

denki doesn't pay attention to the name of the place, and instead moves closer to you with a cute pout. “who did that guy think he was, talking to my s/o like that.” he scoffs, although it doesn't look like he's annoyed.

“you're not his baby, right?” he asks, mentally cringing at how weird that sounded.

“no. but please don't ever ask that again, that sounded so fucking weird.”

reblogs are appreciated!

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dollwritesarchive · 3 years

Text

𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 | ꪀ.ᦔ.

commissioned by the oh-so lovely @blacklightguidesnic 💗 i hope i did your vision justice, babe! thank you for commissioning me ☺️

fandom uncharted

featuring nathan drake x reader (f)

rating NSFW / MINORS DNI

content warning smut, oral (f!receiving) semi-public sex, unprotected sex

summary there’s a reason your adventurer lover shouldn’t leave you behind, and it’s because you always end up saving his ass. based on a thief’s end.

word count 3.4k / one shot

attention my very first commission since reopening them! if you’re interested in my commissions, click here. due to some unforeseen hiccups, this wasn’t proofread. do not repost or translate. reblog & give feedback if you like it!

it was hot.

sticky.

the air so humid that you felt as though you were meant to swim through it.

Nate was still walking with the hint of a limp in his right leg, that bent less than the left when propelled in front of him. aside from a handful of scrapes and the dried blood caked against his temple, that seemed to be his only injury. you were virtually unscathed, save a busted lip from biting down upon impact when your back hit the ground, and hardly visible scratches on your knees from thorny plants as you trudged through the wilderness afterwards.

you’d fallen the same distance, so why were you less worse for wear than he? that was simple: he’d broken your fall. you hadn’t even considered that the fall might kill the two of you; the only thing on your mind had been the gun pointed at your lover and how you could possibly get him as far away from the bullet, as quick as your legs could carry you. at the time, it seemed logical to tackle him, pressing both palms into his chest to send you both over the precipice and into the jungle below, but looking back on it now, you felt guilty. you were responsible for Nathan’s limp and your bloody mouth. you both could’ve died, but that thought didn’t even cross your mind when you had to act fast.

Nate’s hand consumes your own, fingers interlacing as he staggers into the darkened, tunnel entrance, turns, and uses the grip on your hand to urge you to follow. “Where are we?” you ask, close behind him. you notice your own voice is soft and uncertain, as if you wanted no one else but him to hear and respond. you probably could’ve shouted the inquiry, and the orchestra of exotic birds hidden in leafy, emerald trees would’ve masked your voice from anyone else on the entire island. you could hardly even hear Nate over the menagerie.

“This tunnel leads straight to Libertalia,” he replies, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “I’m sure Rafe took Sam this way. If they’re not still down here.” the last portion of the statement was added as an afterthought, but it made your stomach roll over. facing Rafe again wasn’t something you were overly excited about, but you couldn’t deny, his face deserved a nice, swift meeting with your fist. you were certain, if given the right opportunity, you’d splatter the nose on his pretty-boy mug for waving a gun at the man you adored.

“And if they are…” you start, but trail off as your boots grind against the gritty dirt below them, and your vision fails you in the pitch-black tunnel.

“Stay close to me.”

“Funny,” you hardly smirk, but glance up at him (or, at least, where you assumed he was), “I was going to say the same thing to you, my love.”

“Just like the old days, huh?” for a moment, his voice sounds far away, his hand slips from yours, and you feel a jolt of anxiety as you stumble blindly, reaching a few feet in front of you for him. “You and me in some rank cave?” regardless of your panic, he sounds fine. flippant, even.

“Nate—“ you start, stamping through a mud puddle that is deep enough to swallow nearly the entirety of your calf, drenching your bare skin in a slimy concoction of dirt and rainwater, but as you reach forward again, both hands caress the fabric of his shirt. relief washes over you. “There you are.”

moments later, Nate has fished in his pocket for a familiar trinket. the sound of his thumb on the flint wheel nearly transports you back to your living room with him. it was a crappy, old Zippo. of course, when you’d got it for him, it’d been new, but years of use have worn it down and faded the insignia against the metal. your initials and his. you don’t know why you were surprised to see the flame come to life, illuminating Nate’s face in an orangish glow, or why you hadn’t even considered the gift would be on his person. he took it everywhere. he even kept it by the bed the two of you shared, and if he were unable to sleep, he would flip it open, and push it closed again. over and over.

when you both can see again, he reads the concern on your face and his own scrunches, brows furrowing. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, perhaps a bit too quick. “Yeah. I’m just sick of letting you slip through my fingers and disappear, you know.” maybe it was a bit unfair to say, but you had just been reunited after six months of nothing, not a word, while he’s gallivanting around with his brother searching for this place. the first thing you see is him being held at gunpoint. it had left a sour taste in your mouth, one that has lingered for the remaining portion of your trek.

Nathan looks equally sympathetic and apologetic, and his free hand flees to caress your cheek, which was sore upon contact, but you didn’t recoil. “I fucked up.” he whispers, genuine. “I’m sorry.”

you nod, looking into his honeyed oceans, you watch the flame dance in their depths. “You really did.” you reply, before placing your hand atop his own, and nuzzle against the calloused palm. you consider telling him that you forgive him, but a stampede of foreign bootsteps bring you out of the conversation. many more than simply Rafe and Sam. all of the mercenaries Rafe had brought with him had to be present, as well, stomping through the muddy tunnel. way too many for you and Nate to fight off.

your heart beats rapidly against your ribs and your eyes cut to a rock formation, covered in mud and fungi and jutting out from the wall of the cave, large enough for the two of you to crouch behind.

“This way.” you whisper, hastily grasping his hand and dragging him to hide behind the rock. your knees ache when you drop to them in the muck, and Nate slides down the rock with his back, forced to sit flat on his butt to be concealed completely. he flips the lighter closed and stuffs it back into his pocket, while you carefully grasp the jagged edges of the stone and peek out over the crest.

“Is it them?” Nate whispers, and for a moment, you don’t answer. large, armed men dressed in black and green march in rows of two, deeper into the tunnel. you frown, brows knitting together. you couldn’t spot Rafe or Sam in the mix. “Is it Rafe? Is Sam with him? Is—“ the whispering was not only grating on your nerves, but seemed to attract attention from one of the men towards the back, that whirls around and shines a flashlight in your direction. ducking just milliseconds before you’re enveloped in the glow, you clamp your hand over Nate’s mouth tight, your face inches from his. even in the dimness of the tunnel, shielded from the beam, you can see a familiar twinkle in his amber couplet, and you wanted to quirk your brow. it’s faint, but undeniable.

after just a couple of seconds, the footsteps faded into the distance, and when you released Nate, you peeled over the top of the rock to see that not one was left. “I didn’t see Rafe.” you murmur, thoughtful, “But those guys definitely came with him to the island, so I’m sure they’re close.” your gaze flickers to Nate, who is still staring at you with that look in his eyes. “What’s with you?” you ask, perplexed.

“It really is like the old days.” he grins, slow and mischievous, one hand gliding over the flare of your hip to caress your midsection. “When me and you would be out on these trips together, remember? God, I missed you so much, baby. Didja miss me?”

nibbling on your lip, you nod. it was hard to want anything besides the sensation of his hands on you; after all, it’d been so long since you felt him. “Nate…” you mumble, reaching for his hands to pry them from your body. “We don’t have time—“ no such luck, as one hooks the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. there’s no resisting.

after months of missing the taste of his kiss, the ferocity of your lips and their elated greeting of his own nearly takes him by surprise, but he’s sturdy enough to withstand it, hauling you on to his lap with one, swift and scooping motion. your tongue senses his just beyond the threshold of his pair and makes a hasty beeline for his cavern; he swallows your moan as his muscle embraces yours. if you could’ve kissed him for hours, you would’ve. tongues at war with one another, hands shaking as you grip his harness and shove it down his arms before tugging at the stained fabric of his shirt. you couldn’t breathe. you could no longer think. all you wanted was him, just him.

“I’m making time.” he mutters, breathless as he breaks the kiss to allow you to pull the garment off and discard it on the muddy cave floor.

“What— What about the rescue mission?” you ask, but do very little besides that to stop him as he cradles your body with both hands against the small of your back, and sits up on his knees. laying your on your back, your hands rub dirt and grime over his bulging biceps before careening upwards to grab both sides of his neck. “Aren’t we on a schedule, here?”

Nate doesn’t even pause. “We’ll catch up.” is his answer, powerful hands pushing your tank top and bra up simultaneously to expose your bare breasts. he stares, captured, entranced by the sight of your naked chest that he’s missed so much, and for a moment he doesn’t even look like the Nathan you know. he appears more like a wild beast that has been starved. “Right now, I need you.” and with that, his head dips, and he envelops one breast within the warmth of his mouth. the sensation is so abrupt that you’ve no choice but to grab on to his spiky tendrils and arch your back. his teeth and tongue work wonders on your mound, teasing the hardened bud and suckling. his hungry grunts are stifled by your supple flesh. it feels like heaven to have his mouth on your body again.

you can feel his hands on the waistband of your khaki shorts, fumbling with the buttons, and when you feel them come undone and his fingers grip them and your panties underneath, you lift your lower half from the ground to make it easier for him to pull them down your legs.

“Hurry.” you whine, impatient, giving his roots a firm yank.

Nate groans and responds, open mouth trailing over your belly whilst his hands grip your thighs tight. “You know how much I thought of this while I’ve been away?” it’s clearly a rhetorical question as he finds the most comfortable position between your thighs, and you hook them over his broad shoulders. his eyes aren’t on you, and instead remained glued to your weeping core, his teeth sinking in to his lower lip as he takes in the sight of you: naked, filthy, and yearning. it’s almost too much for him, and so he sucks in a ragged breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal at the same time. “All the time. Every goddamn morning and every fucking night, spent thinkin’ about you. The taste of your lips, the warmth of your body…” Nate leans forward and his tongue lazes out over his bottom tier as he drags it along the seam of your folds. you nearly come undone right then, the sensitivity that goes hand in hand with being untouched threatening to break you. “God,” he groans to himself when he tastes you on his tongue, “that sweet, sweet pussy I’ve missed so much.”

another swipe with his velvet tongue and you shudder, pushing your palm down on the crown of his head to keep his face buried in your sex, as if begging him to stay down there forever. “Fuck.” you whisper, through grit teeth. “Don't tease me, Drake,” you try to warn, playfully, but it comes out broken as he laps at your nether lips like a dutiful puppy, “don’t tease!”

“I’m savoring,” he replies with a husky chuckle, blowing hot breath on your vulnerable flesh, “enjoying every inch of your perfect cunt, making sure I don’t miss a single spot. I wanna worship you, baby.” the words flow like liquid sugar from his lips that he then presses to your needy sex and you’re putty for him to play with as he chooses. a flustered moan erupts from within the depths of your throat when Nate’s dastardly tongue plunges deep into your wanton entrance, your walls mistaking it for his manhood and fluttering with glee as if to draw him back inside of you. he doesn’t seem to mind, however, and hums in sordid delight, both hands grasping your quivering thighs. the bridge of his nose rests against your swollen clit as he explores your sensitive depths, and provides the perfect angle for you to rock your hips and grind your button against it with a string of sultry moans laced with whispers of his name lingering on your tongue. “Nathan, oh my god—“ while the other keeps a killer grip on his hair, your free hand claws at the top of one of his. he loosens one vice on your leg to hold your hand, a smile pressed to your skin. his teeth graze your labia and you mewl with delight.

you’re squirming, thrashing about in the mud while his head bobs between your hips, his lips caressing your throbbing core and his tongue taunting your clenching walls by prodding at them. an orgasm is brewing in your belly, hot and bubbly, and you want to stall it for as long as you can. you aren’t ready for this to be over, and you fear that your climax will be just enough to satisfy Nate, and you’ll be forced to return to reality. no. not yet, please. you need to feel him, all of him. you need him inside, you’re dying to feel the way he stretches you open and pumps deep. you want to hear his moaning, the incoherent babbling when he’s on the brink of cumming. don’t let it end so soon. “I can’t take much more,” you warn, breathless, and arch, throwing your head back, “I need you, Nate! Please, just fuck me already, for Christ’s sake!” as if your plea wasn’t enough, you take advantage of the grip on his tendrils to pull his head back, and inch back from him.

not only are those damn, kissable lips of his glossy with your juices, but his jaw is smeared with mud and his eyes are wild and dark— dilated with fiery passion.

the immediate barrenness between your thighs as you were on the cusp of orgasm has you shivering, nearly convulsing, and you close your eyes and swallow hard. “Just… fuck me…” your eyelids flutter slow, and part to see him on his knees, tearing his belt off. “Please.”

“Ask and ye shall receive, baby girl.” Nate answers, his voice low and raspy. utter depravity has seeped into him, turning him from a man to a desperate beast. you watch with bated breath, elbows dug into the mud below you, as he pops the button of his cargoes open and pushes them down. you’re almost surprised there were no sounds of ripping fabric by how aggressive he was. in another moment, he was looming over you, palm slammed into the mud beside your head, while the other hand busies itself by hitching your legs up on to his waist. you lock them in place by your ankles behind him and hold both sides of his neck. slipping between your bodies, he grasps his throbbing erection and guides it to the promised land. as you feel his girth splitting you open, you moan in unison with Nathan and close your eyes. “Fuck, I needed this.” he drops his head to whisper it against the shell of your ear as he begins to rut into you.

for all the times you’ve made love to Nathan, it had never been so fiercely desperate. every thrust into you was deep and calculated, reaching his hilt and drawing back to repeat the jab with so much force that your breasts ripple like disturbed water each and every time. each oscillation is punctuated by a forcefully expelled breathy moan from you; your nails bite at his dirty shoulders, leaving hot trails wherever they dig in. he’s panting already, in your ear, and telling you how much he loves you. how much he adores you. how much he missed you.

your interior grips him so tightly that you’re convinced you could never let him pull out, and your hips undulate to meet every, single, powerful thrust. the sound of his balls slapping against your posterior is an afterthought, as is the splashing of mud when your bodies collide, because you can focus on nothing. nothing but Nathan and the way he fills you to the point of bursting.

“You’re so fucking warm,” he croaks in your ear, panting, “so warm and tight. I fit so good inside you, god, feel that? God! You’re perfect, baby girl—! Made for me! Yes, fuck, yes!”

purring is your safest response, because you doubt you’ll be able to form any kind of coherent reply, but you nod vigorously, and arch your back, one hand inching up to pet his hair as if to tell him that he’s doing good. he’s fucking you just the way you want.

that’s when it happens. when he shifts your legs higher on his torso to pound you deeper and plunges into your sweet spot. your knees dig into his ribs like spurs, his name is a mantra upon your tongue, cried beneath your ragged breath for only him to hear. “More, more, more!” it’s the only other word that makes sense in the moment, the calm before the orgasmic storm that he’s driving you towards.

“More?” he asks, breathy and desperate for your approval, “you like it? Right there?” after each question, he doubles down, practically drilling you into the mud until you’re nodding, head lolling about on your shoulders, and your eyes are rolling back. you’ve no time to warn him— your climax hits you like a freight train and suddenly, you’re unraveling before him. “Cumming, pretty girl? Fuck, it’s been too long since I saw you lose yourself. So beautiful, come on, baby.” he repeats it, encourages your orgasm to take every one of your senses and leave you a trembling pile of fucked out bliss.

the visage itself, as you shudder and moan for him, flail and try to escape your own ecstasy, is more than enough to send him into a frenzy. both hands grasp at your supple hips, fingers digging into your flesh, and his weight pins you down as he drives himself home deeper, faster, harder, until you’re seeing stars and he’s crying your name with a hoarse throat.

“N—Nate…” you whine, a broken version of his name, “cum for me, baby… come on…” combing your fingers through his hair as he comes undone, you purr and mewl and moan for him, your body weakened from the ferocity of your own climax.

Nathan is still moaning, albeit much more muted, when he pulls out of your body, drizzling your inner thighs with his seed as more oozes from your palpitating hole. “You did so good, baby,” you coo, caressing his cheek with your dirty palm. you’ve not the strength to sit up just yet, but you push the messy, brown tendrils away from his forehead. “So good.”

for a long few seconds, Nathan doesn’t speak. his panting is slowing down to an almost-normal rhythm, and he simply rubs you anywhere he can touch. your belly, your leg, your breast. staring, quietly.

“Tell me what’s on your mind?”

he smiles, leans forward, and kisses your forehead. “No more adventures without my partner in crime, that's what’s on my mind.”

#nathan drake #nate drake #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake x you #nathan drake smut #nathan drake imagine #Nate drake x reader #nate drake x you #nate drake smut #nate drake imagine #uncharted #uncharted smut #uncharted imagine #uncharted 4

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

By Its Cover

Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers x Shy!Reader, College AU

Summary: Your late nights at the university library spark a chain of events. Will they lead to your undoing? To anyone else's?

W/C: 8,890 (oops, sorry)

Warnings: DARK themes, NO MINORS, stalking, murder, minor character death, smut, angst, unprotected sex, oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

A/N: FINALLY, I wrote this for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's 2 Years of Darkness challenge! This fic kicked my ass but after some months I'm so excited about it! This is my first truly dark fic so please don't read if any of these topics upset you but I do want to make a note that the sex is consensual. If I missed any warnings please DM me immediately and I will add them. Reblog/comment if you liked it! Maybe even check out some of my other fics 👀 Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You stumbled slightly on the uneven pavement as you made the final steps towards the graduate school library. It was always so much quieter than the undergrad library and at this hour there’d be a good chance it was just you and the poor person stuck working the overnight help desk. You didn’t mind that though, you were never an overly sociable person and you preferred to work alone anyways.

You swiped your student ID through the sensor and the little green light granted you entry as you opened the door. Looking around there wasn’t even someone at the desk, just the sound of the always-on A/C rattling the leaves of the fake plants in the lobby.

You moved to put your ID away when it slipped from your fingers and plapped onto the floor, your own face staring back up to you from the plastic. You sighed and swung your bag further back over your shoulder as you bent to pick it up when a pair of legs edged their way into your vision. Caught off guard by the man attached to them, you watched him bend to pick up the piece of plastic.

You both straightened back up to your full heights and you found yourself looking up at him. He had clear blue eyes and sandy blond hair that was swept back. He looked like he could be a model, he was so handsome and you felt like a deer in headlights.

You realized that he had your ID in his hand and was waiting patiently for you to take it. You smiled awkwardly and took it from him. He looked back to your card and read your name out loud and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you” you said more in surprise than gratitude “Sorry, I just, I could’ve sworn no one was here you came out of nowhere” You laughed nervously, hoping to hide your embarrassment. You were never good with talking to people and once a situation got awkward you just got yourself deeper in it.

“I was just coming around the corner when I noticed you dropped your ID. I actually work the late shift at the desk. Serves me right for applying last minute for work through the university, right?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Late night cram session? You look like your back’s about to snap from holding all those books” He pointed to your bag, the stitches of it’s straps were frayed and had been sewn over a couple of times.

“Yeah, I like coming here late, hardly anyone’s here, I don’t have to deal with people and I can just focus” You explained

“Right, well, sorry to keep you. If you need anything I’m Steve, and I’ll be bored out of my mind at the desk” he smirked and walked back towards reception.

You turned down the hall and thought how strange it was that you’d never seen him here before. It was the middle of the semester so he couldn’t have just started but you were in here all the time and you’d never run into him once. You brushed the thought off and continued on your way.

____

Over the next few weeks you and Steve developed a routine. You’d come in around 10 or 11, you’d stop at the desk and chat a bit and then you’d head up to your spot on the second floor to study. Occasionally Steve would see you when he returned books and you’d joke around a bit before he’d leave you to your work. You were building a good rapport with each other and he was pleased.

Sometimes he’d been too shy to approach you. It made him feel like the scrawny, helpless kid he was before the growth spurt. Beautiful girls like you never looked twice at him but he knows that you’re different, he knows that if you had met him then that you’d never treat him like those girls did. He knows that in time you two could really have something special.

Steve understood that building a relationship with you would take time and balance. He didn’t want to seem too eager but ever since he saw you he knew he’d do anything to just talk to you.

It started some months ago when he was visiting Bucky on campus. They had been hanging out in the quad right by a group of buildings when you tripped on the pavement and your books fell at his feet. He helped you up and even collected your books for you but you were too flustered and embarrassed to meet his eye. You eked out a thank you and scurried into the graduate library.

That moment sparked a blooming obsession within him. The following night he was still in town but he went out without Bucky and staked out where he’d been the previous night and watched you go to the library at the same time you had. The next two nights he did this and quickly pieced together your nightly routine.

Within a month's time he was set to transfer for the next semester and when he did he got a job working night shifts at the library. Bucky had asked him why on Earth he’d want that and Steve had shrugged him off, claiming that he wanted to be paid and didn’t want to deal with anyone. Seemed like a good enough reason to anyone else.

And so that’s how Steve found himself invading your personal space to hand you your ID. He enjoyed the way you trembled slightly in surprise. You looked so small next to him, looking up at him. He nearly forgot what he was going to say, feeling suddenly shy himself. You were so close to him and you were just as beautiful as he remembered.

Take it slow, he reminded himself.

____

Your apartment door slammed behind you as you stormed out of the building. You left in only what you were wearing which was a light hoodie and some leggings. You had thought to grab your book bag before you left and it kept knocking into your side with each angry step you took. Tears streaked your face but you tried your best to brush them off and continued on your brisk walk to the library.

You and your boyfriend had gotten into a fight and things got heated pretty fast, they always did with Sean. You had confronted Sean about being gone so often and so late, you’d missed him and wanted to spend time with you. That’s when he started getting defensive and turning your late nights at the library right around on you.

Things escalated to shouting and Sean had gotten so angry that he’d knocked over a pile of your books from the table. It had scared you and that’s when you left. You knew that you’d be getting nowhere with him when he was so angry. You wanted to be alone and needed a distraction so you grabbed your bag and headed for the library.

You secretly hoped Steve was working, it’d be nice to see a friendly face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the tiniest crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and kind and he always knows when to give you space. You wish you’d met him at a different point in your life, you could really see yourself with him in another timeline. Maybe it was just easier to think that having just had a fight with Sean.

You swiped your card and waited patiently for the door to open. You could tell Steve had already spotted you and was looking at you as you passed through the glass doors. He was smiling his same boyish charm smile that made you feel even shier than you already were. You must’ve looked a mess but it was comforting to see him there waiting for you.

“There she is,” Steve said with a smile as he got up from his chair to greet you. His face immediately fell though as he took in the tracks of your tears and your puffy eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve looked upset and angry for you. You were touched, but you’d rather leave it.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s okay. It’s nice to see you though, Steve. How’s your night?”

Steve’s jaw ticked but he swallowed and nodded and you were grateful he didn’t push it further.

“Uneventful as usual, it’s good to see you too, doll.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the nickname. If you were on better terms with Sean you’d feel bad but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but giggle.

You said your goodbye to Steve and made your way to the second floor to study.

Hours passed and you had your nose buried in a book when you felt a sudden presence. You looked up slowly behind you and shrieked when you found Steve just inches from you. He held his hands out defensively and tried to catch your breathing.

“Steve, oh my God, I didn’t see you there, you scared me!” You laughed as you caught your breath.

“Yeah, sorry, I uh, have a habit of doing that.” He said as he ducked his head sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he blushing? Why did he look nervous?

“I, um. I was uh, I was hoping to maybe ah, ask you something, actually.” Steve swallowed thickly. He is nervous. You smiled at him and motioned for him to go on.

“I was thinking… maybe, when you’re free if um, would you maybe want to go to dinner? With me?” He stammered out.

You smiled and felt heat flood your cheeks all over again, Steve was gorgeous and you were flattered that someone like him would want to go out with you. Just as quickly as that flattery came dread had instantly replaced it. You had a boyfriend, you couldn’t do that to Sean. Oh God, now I have to turn him down. What if he hates me?

“Wow… I uh, Steve,” you started, “I’m. You’re so sweet, I don’t know what to say. But, I have a boyfriend, I’m really sorry”

“But- but don’t think I wouldn’t say yes, if I could. You’re such a nice guy and I’m really happy for our friendship. I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us, I’m. I’m sorry,” You quickly led up with. You felt so awkward and bad that you had to turn him down.

Steve’s jaw ticked and he looked away. A blush of embarrassment had made its way up his neck and into his cheeks. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a deep breath.

“It’s… It’s fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want things to be weird between us either. You know what? Why don’t we just forget the whole thing? Sorry again.” He finished with a tight lipped smile

You sent an uneasy smile back and nodded.

“Of course, no damage done, Steve.”

With that he left you and you went back to your book. You tried not to overthink the entire situation but couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable.

____

“Boyfriend” the word echoed in his head on a never ending loop with deafening reverb. He nodded curtly at you and smiled. You had your awkward exchange of apologies and excuses. Wordlessly, he made his way back to the information desk. He felt angry but also humiliated, he had spent at least a week building himself up to say something to you and you just turned him down so wholly?

He saw the way you looked at him, the way you laughed at his jokes. Steve knew that he meant more to you than you were letting on. There was attraction there, you were just in denial because you had a boyfriend.

Who even was this schmuck? You couldn’t have liked him that much because if you did then you would’ve mentioned him before but you hadn’t. If you really loved your boyfriend then you wouldn’t have smiled at Steve the way you did or stopped to say hello every night. He needed to see for himself whom exactly it was that was so undeserving of your attention.

Steve checked the cameras and saw that you were packing up your things. He had maybe a few minutes to gather his own things and wait for you. There was someone else coming to cover the library in 20 minutes, it would be fine if he left it alone until then. He decided to make himself scarce from the desk so you wouldn’t have to see him again before you left and you wouldn’t notice he’d be following you.

Waiting for the sound of the double doors to click shut he turned the corner and waited for just a minute. He slunk down the mainways of campus towards the student apartments and stopped just 20 yards away from you up against a wall. You looked so cold all alone in the dark as you buzzed in one of the numbers.

“1B, what the fuck could you possibly want at this hour?” a gruff voice answered over the comm.

“Baby, it’s me, sorry I forgot my keys but you weren’t responding to my texts so” You trailed off as you shivered in the night. No reply came, just the buzzer sounding off. You hurried inside and Steve tried his best to scope out external windows.

Finally the light came on in one of them and to his luck the blinds were mostly open. Through the vertical slats he could make out your entrance and an impeding figure from the hall. It was him, the boyfriend. The guy that was apparently so much better than Steve.

He saw your body language was tense and you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word in, your boyfriend was grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you. You looked surprised maybe, but you just let him grab you like that. You just fucking let him.

He watched from his spot against a pillar from the building across the walkway. He clenched his jaw and tried to control his breathing watching this guy, this boy manhandle you like you weren’t something special, something precious. He was disgusted but he couldn’t look away as your clothes were shirked off and you two fucked right there on the couch.

He couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore and stormed off. As he walked back to his place a plan began to form in the back of his mind.

____

Things with Sean were smoothed over. You didn’t really talk, so much as he just fucked you before you could even talk about it. He had kissed you on the cheek after and said he was sorry. So you figured that he was. You didn’t really feel like pushing it anyways.

You made for the library once again, anticipating a long night ahead of you with midterms around the corner.

You let out a shriek as you realized someone was standing over you. Steve was hovering right above you, looking even taller than he already was. You pushed your chair back to get some distance between yourself and him while you caught your breath from the momentary scare.

“Steve, I uh, sorry I didn’t hear you coming, again.”

He leaned himself against the edge of the table and crossed his arms. How had you not realized he was so muscular before? You flushed and scolded yourself for thinking about him like that. You had a boyfriend and Steve was just the nice guy at the library.

He ducked his head shyly and waved your apology off.

“Sorry, guess I’m just sneaky.” He chuckled in amusement but the feeling wasn’t mutual, “I was just up here returning some books when I realized I missed you coming in, thought I’d come say hi.”

“Right,” you replied, “Guess we just missed each other. How’s the desk tonight?”

“Bored to tears as usual, just glad you’re here tonight”

Steve winked at you and you felt your cheeks get hot again and you looked away with a small laugh.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“Ah that’s not true.” He paused, “I get nervous all the time around pretty girls like you”

You were really in it now. Your cheeks heated instantly and you had to look away from him again. For someone that just got rejected he doesn’t stay down for long. How the hell were you going to talk your way out of this one? He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he say that?

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” Oh, thank God.

He begins to walk back to his cart before spinning on his heel one last time.

“Hey, I forgot to ask. You’re pretty good with art history, right?”

You nod cautiously, afraid that you know where this is going.

“Well, as of right now I’ve got a C. I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet on one of my nights off here and help me out?”

“O-oh. Yeah, of course. No problem. I’m sure Sean wouldn’t mind.”

You were too nice for your own good, saying yes before really thinking it all through. You only realized you had after the words left your mouth so you mentioned Sean to save yourself a bit.

Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you.

“Awesome, you’re the best. Maybe we can get together at that cafe on 3rd next Tuesday around noon?”

“Of course, I’ll be there” You confirm.

____

Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough for Steve. He didn’t need any help in art history, he was averaging about an 87, actually. But when you turned him down he knew he had to find another way to get closer to you and he knew that you’d say yes out of pressure.

All in all things were going pretty well for Steve. Despite your shy nature he’d managed to get closer to you much quicker than he expected. He loved watching you get flustered whenever he was close, finding it hard not to get flustered himself. He was impatient for things to move forward but he knew it would all pan out. There was only one wrench in the plan; your boyfriend Sean.

The other night when Steve had followed you home and witnessed Sean manhandle you in your apartment he began thinking of how to remove him from the picture. Steve did his research on Sean and found it suspicious he couldn’t find anything on him. Usually after a little digging you can find something off about anyone, but not him. Steve knew it would take a little more effort, but for you he’d make it.

So that’s how Steve wound up spending his night off in the corner of the dive bar that was just off campus. Off campus enough that you’d need to drive there. He had tailed Sean’s Jeep there after his club soccer game in hopes of finding something he could actually use to justify getting rid of him for you. He groused as he pulled into the parking garage across the street and pocketed his parking stub. He waited a few beats and watched Sean leave his car.

He slinked in the door and grabbed a dimly lit corner booth. The residue of whatever cleaner this place used was causing his forearms to stick to the table at his booth and the air stunk of vape smoke. He was surrounded by other 20-somethings, awkward Tinder hookups and frat bros meeting up to blow off steam.

On the opposite side of the room he spotted Sean, watched him as he approached the bar for another pint. He’d followed him here in hopes of getting some sort of information on him that he could use. After an hour of nursing one beer and absolutely nothing happening with Sean Steve had been ready to give up.

Just as he was getting ready to down the rest of his drink the door had opened and in walked a girl around his age. She looked nervous but excited as she looked around the place. She nearly squealed as she rushed over when she found who she was looking for. A smile slowly crawled across Steve’s face as the girl rushed into Sean’s arms and embraced him with a kiss. This is exactly what Steve needed to get him out of the picture.

Steve discreetly took out his phone and snapped a few photos, even got a video of them kissing again. He figured this would be enough to blackmail Sean into leaving you. Getting what he needed, he grabbed his jacket and left the bar. He felt light as a feather walking home, his plan was finally setting into motion and it wouldn’t be long until you were together.

Tuesday had finally come and Steve’s good mood only carried over. He practically skipped to the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at. He grabbed a table and waited for you. When he saw you open the door he was grinning ear to ear but his expression quickly changed taking in your appearance. You looked exhausted, like you’d been crying again. This wouldn’t do.

“What’s wrong? Is it your boyfriend again?” Steve asked.

You nodded silently and set down your bag with a huff.

“He’s just been out really late lately, I feel like he’s never home. Then again I’m always out late.”

“Well I’m glad you’re a night owl, otherwise we wouldn’t have met” Steve tried to turn the conversation back to them and to keep it positive.

“I guess you’re right. You didn’t order anything?” You frowned, noticing his empty hands.

“I was waiting for you, it’s my treat.” You opened your mouth to protest but Steve was quick to add, “Don’t even try to argue with me on this one.”

You sighed but ultimately relented, following him to the counter. He let you order first.

“Um, just a small hot chocolate please, thank you so much”

Steve thought it was cute that you didn’t drink caffeine, he knew hot chocolate was your drink of choice. He knew this of course from hours of pouring over every profile of yours he could find on the internet. He even found your tumblr you were just sure nobody knew about. Turns out you’ve got quite the dirty mind. But that was a thought for another day. Steve turned back to the counter and ordered black coffee and paid the bill.

With drinks in hand you made your way back to your table and settled in for an afternoon of art history. It went smoothly overall and Steve even got you to laugh a few times. He’d perfectly played his balance of pretending not to know about the subject while seeming to be learning what you were teaching. He could tell you felt proud of yourself for accomplishing something and he was happy he could make you feel that way. He was sure he was the only one that could.

You called it a day and said your goodbyes, you went in for an awkward hug which Steve accepted wholeheartedly. He’d even managed to finally snag your number so you two could work out more study times. Maybe you were coming around much easier than he anticipated. He smiled to himself and on the walk home began to devise a plan to get rid of Sean. It’d only be a matter of days if everything went accordingly.

____

You were basking in the rare day off, taking every moment to enjoy doing absolutely nothing. You’d felt drained lately from your class workload, late nights at the library, and your elevating fights with Sean. He was at work today followed by an evening class so you had uninterrupted alone time. Around 10pm it took every ounce of your free will to get off the couch and get the mail.

You milled over to your box and jammed the key in. Pulling the mail out your head titled in curiosity at the large unmarked manila folder. No return address written, only yours but there was nothing indicating whether it was for you or Sean. You’d open it when you got back upstairs.

Finally back to your spot on the couch your fingers slowly undid the folder’s metal clasp and you reached inside for its contents. Out came several photos and a hastily written note. You held the grainy photos closer to your face to make out what they were. When you did your heart plummeted and you went into emotional shock.

Though the photos were grainy it was very clear what they were of. Shots of Sean and some mystery brunette making out in a bar. Sean with his arm around her waist, Sean with his hand on her ass. All the photos were timestamped for only a few days ago when he claimed his soccer game was running late. You dropped them instantly and they scattered to the floor.

Your heart was hammering in your ears, you didn’t know what to think. Sean was the only boyfriend you’d ever really had, Sean loved you, you loved him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remembered there was a note. You searched for it and tried to read it through the tears that were beginning to blur your vision.

‘I know what you did. You tell her or I will. You have three days’

You didn’t recognize the handwriting. Who would send this? Why would they send it? You and Sean didn’t have many friends and you couldn’t picture them doing this. Maybe this is some prank? Maybe the timestamp is wrong and this is before you were together.

Sean was all you’d ever known and you shared an apartment, it’s not like you’d have anywhere to go or anyone to turn to. Should you confront him with these? It’s not like you two were exactly good at solving your problems. Would he leave you if you showed him these? What then?

Your mind was spinning, unsure of what to do with this new information. Maybe you could keep quiet about this, try to spend some more time with Sean, make him see what the two of you have. Maybe you can ask him to be home more, maybe you could be home more too.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears before you gathered the photos and put them back into the envelope. You decided you’d hold onto them for now, tucking them away in your drawer of the dresser. Deciding you’d just work yourself up if you stayed up you shot Sean a text goodnight and went to bed.

Morning came and he was snuggled into your side, the comfort you felt had you feeling like everything might be okay for a moment. You stayed in bed just a little longer and turned so he could hold you in his arms. Your heart felt so unsure and scared, but you didn’t know what else you could do.

The week passed by and you decided to shift more of your energy towards your relationship with Sean, pushing your nights at the library to the backburner. You still hadn’t told him about the envelope but you did tell him you missed him and wished he was home more. He relented and was home four nights this week instead of his usual two.

The time together was uncomfortable but you kept telling yourself that things were getting a little better over time, even if your studies were suffering for it. As the week went on you were able to suppress your doubts about your relationship a bit more. Sean loved you and you loved him.

You couldn’t ignore the oncoming threat of midterms forever, though. The last thing you wanted was to be alone because you knew that your thoughts would just spiral but you needed to do well this semester so you grabbed your bag and headed out.

You swipe through the doors, almost looking forward to seeing Steve. You’d blown off your study session with a profuse apology so you could be with Sean. You were eager to apologize in person but found the reference desk to be completely abandoned. You frowned, maybe Steve was putting away books or something. You’d see him eventually though, for now you had an essay to write.

Hours could have gone by and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting so much done though, it felt good to be focused on something other than your own thoughts.

“Where’ve you been?”

You jump in your seat. You turn around to find Steve emerging from the shelves that were just out of your view. He wore a neutral expression but you could cut the tension with a knife. He stepped forward and you debated on what to say.

“Sorry, I had to cancel with you this week. How are you getting along?”

“Nothing another tutoring session couldn’t fix, I’m sure. Were you sick? I feel like you haven’t been here in forever. The nights get awful lonely without ya here”

Why did Steve keep making statements like that when he knew you had a boyfriend? It was driving you insane and getting harder to ignore them.

“Um, no, I was with Sean, actually. But y’know, can’t avoid midterms forever” You gave a half-hearted laugh hoping to lighten things up.

Steve’s neutral expression is slipping, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. But his face broke out into a small smile, putting you at ease instantly. He clapped you on the shoulder and took a step back.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. We still on for Tuesday?”

You gave him an easy smile and nodded.

“I’ll be counting the days” With that Steve disappeared back between the shelves.

____

The moment Steve placed the envelope in the mail he felt a confidence he hadn’t felt before. All he had to do was wait for you to open the envelope and everything would take its course. He knew Sean was at work and you’d be the one to get the mail that day. From his spot he’d peered in your windows all those weeks ago he watched you open the photos. You dropped them to the ground and held a hand to your mouth to cover what looked like a sob. Steve smiled to himself, now all you had to do was leave him.

The week went on and Steve figured you might need a little time to break it off and he’d be there at the library, waiting to comfort you. It’s not like you had any other friends in your life to turn to. But then you cancelled your study session with no explanation. Steve figured maybe you were still in shock, needed to cry it out alone. Then two days turned to four turned to seven.

Steve was confused, he was infuriated even. Why hadn’t you come to the library yet? Why hadn’t you texted him? There’s no way that you were actually going to stay with him after you saw him with another woman. Except that’s exactly what he did.

Looking back on it Steve recognized his mistakes. He knew you were shy and meek, sweet, it’s what he loved about you. But he should’ve accounted for this to happen. You were too sweet for your own good, wanting to make it work with Sean. It was an obstacle he hadn’t seen but this is just a slight bump in the plan. He can work around it.

When he saw you coming up the steps on the security camera he made himself scarce, not ready to face you just yet. He gave you some hours to study before he made himself known to you. He could tell just by the way you talked that you were in complete denial about what was happening. You weren’t strong enough to leave him but that’s okay, Steve is strong enough for the both of you right now, he’ll help you get there.

____

Just when you thought things were getting better Sean was back to becoming distant, going out with his teammates and coming home still a little drunk. The more you thought about those photos and thought about how he slipped back into old habits so easily the more you were working up the courage to confront him. You weren’t sure if you’d leave him, but maybe it would make him change.

Then the second envelope came. More photos of them kissing and leaving the bar together. They were time stamped just two nights ago. Your heart fell through the floor as you tried to make sense of things. How much of this could you put up with? When was enough? You needed to confront him when he got home.

You texted him to try to come home early tonight, saying it was important. You spent the rest of the evening planning out your words and trying to quell the oncoming panic attacks. Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it it was midnight and you still had no word from Sean. You couldn’t spend one more minute alone, you needed to get out. You needed a friend.

Your body was on autopilot as your feet carried you up the steps of the library. Steve wasn’t at the desk and you felt almost distressed. You knew he’d be a good third party to talk all this out to and you didn’t know what to think when he wasn’t there. You decided to shoot him a text.

‘Hey, I know you usually work Thursdays, I’ll be at my usual spot, I could really use a friend if you’re not too busy’ Did that sound too desperate? At this point you didn’t care.

You sunk down into your chair on the second floor with a huff. You hadn’t brought your bag so it’s not like you could study to distract yourself. As it turned out you didn’t need to.

“I’m never too busy for you, doll. ‘Specially not at this job” Steve’s voice carried as he rounded a corner into your sight.

You felt instantly better before you realized you were crying. It was hard to be vulnerable but if you could trust anyone with this it was Steve. You gave him a weak smile as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“What’s wrong? Do you need tissues?”

“No, sorry, I just.” You were struggling to find the words. “Sean is cheating on me”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists, he looked absolutely furious for you.

“Are you serious? That bastard! Doll, I’m so sorry. Have you confronted him?” His hand reached for yours and his thumb rubbed light circles.

“I-I, I haven’t said...anything. I just. He loves me y’know? Why would he do that? He’s all I have? What happens if he leaves me where will I stay I’ll be completely alone, I’ll-”

You had worked yourself into a panic attack as you desperately tried to take gulps of air while tears streamed down your face. You were losing touch with your surroundings and spiraling into a place you couldn’t get yourself out of. Steve moved his chair closer to you and brought you into his lap. He held your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You could just make out what he was saying.

“Doll, it’s okay, I need you to breathe with me, can you do that? Take a deep breath in with me. Hold it and count to five with me,” You do but you’re still struggling. “Now exhale, count again for me. You’re doing so well, you can do this.”

Eventually Steve is able to bring you back down to Earth and you slumped back into his arms. You don’t care that Steve is holding you, it feels safe. You shifted so you could lean your head against his chest and let out a heavy sigh. He holds you to himself and lets you sit there for a while.

You don’t know how much time passes but you sit up slowly and he’s reluctant to let you go. You wipe your eyes as you go back to your own chair.

“Sorry, I’m keeping you from your job. Sorry I just totally came here and freaked out” You were starting to feel embarrassed, oversharing your life and emotions with him. You really liked him, you didn’t want to think you’d ruined the friendship.

“Don’t even apologize. You can always come to me.” He gave you a warm smile and you felt reassured. “So what are you going to do about Sean?”

Another hour had gone by with Steve and you could see the sun starting to come through the windows. You had decided you would confront him and go from there. You weren’t ready to fully commit to leaving him but this needed to end one way or another. For the first time in two weeks you felt like things were maybe going to be okay. The next time you saw Sean you were going to confront him.

____

Clearly seeing that you weren’t going to do anything after he sent the photos, he had to go to plan B. Steve waited outside the practice field and followed him to the parking structure once again. He jammed the parking stub in his jacket pocket along with the others and repeated his previous trips here. It was astounding how unaware Sean was of his surroundings, Steve had followed him and that girl from the bar back to her place at least twice now.

Getting what he needed he put another envelope in the mail the next day, this time with no note but the photos were more upsetting. It hurt Steve to hurt you but it’s what needed to be done. You were never going to confront him with things as they were so he had to push the envelope, literally and metaphorically. The hurt would be worth it though, because you came crying to him just like he’d hoped you would. Seeing your text warmed his heart, you needed him and he’d be there. Every time.

He knew he’d be comforting you but he didn’t think that he’d get to hold you. He was hiding his smile as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you down from your panic attack. You did so well listening to him and calming down. He was convinced he was the only one that could help you, you just needed to see that.

Steve abandoned his cart of books that needed to be shelved but he couldn’t care less. He’d stay up all night with you every night if that’s what it took. As dawn broke the two of you devised a plan and he built you up to say something. You weren’t committed to leaving him, which Steve wasn’t happy about, but you were committed to confronting him, if only you’d get the chance.

Based on what Steve knew of both yours and Sean's schedules you’d just miss each other between classes during the day and Sean had a game tonight, which would inevitably lead to a night at the bar. All Steve had to do was wait. He had to contain his excitement, things were finally finally falling right into place, they just needed a final push.

Nightfall came and this time Steve beat Sean to the structure. Steve parked on the top level and stuck the parking stub in his pocket. He didn’t feel like he was taking a risk by counting on Sean to follow routine, he was a good boy, he’d park in his same spot he always did and proceed to get wasted across the street.

A slow smile creeped across Steve’s face as Sean and his teammates stumbled into the bar, probably already drunk from pre-gaming. Sean’s sidepiece wouldn’t come to the bar tonight, her sorority having some dumb mixer or another. Steve reminded himself of his mantra to wait. His phone buzzed and he saw it was a text from you. You two had been texting after you came to him in the library.

‘He’s not responding to my texts. I know he had a game tonight but I really thought he’d be here’

He’d have to text you back another time, Steve needed to be on his toes tonight. He sat at what was becoming his usual booth for nearly two hours, barely touching his pint. Finally Sean paid his tab and said goodnight to his friends. Steve pulled down the brim of his hat and pursued him towards the parking structure. Drunken and fumbling up through the stairwell, Steve entered behind him quietly while taking out a knife he’d stolen from Bucky. He always knew his friend’s strange obsession with them would come in handy someday.

Just as Sean was about to take the final step Steve grabbed him from behind. Sean’s reactions may have been slowed but it hadn’t stopped him trying to thrash out of the grip. His efforts stopped immediately as Steve held the blade to his throat. He spoke clearly and in a low voice.

“Keep walking up the stairs or I will slit your fucking throat, do you hear me?” He brought the knife closer to his neck to drive home the threat.

“E-easy man, please, please don’t do this”

“Keep moving. Up.”

Steve pushed him all the way towards his car at the edge of the top level. He flipped Sean around so his back was to the ledge, the knife still trained closely on him. Pleads for mercy fell on deaf ears.

“What do you wan’!? You wan’ money!? Take, take my wallet man I don’t need it, jus’ please don’t kill me please!”

Steve pushed him slightly, though his grip on him remained tight. Sean struggled against him as his body weight wavered over the ledge. He must have realised how far up they were because he started crying at this point, begging even harder as he teetered and trying desperately to get his bearings against the wall.

“Why are you doing this!?” He wailed, “I’ll do anything, please! Please, I have a girlfriend, I have a family”

That was all that it took. Steve was feeling a high like he’d never felt. He knew at this moment he was doing the right thing for both of you. With a rush of adrenaline and in a flash of certainty he pushed Sean’s body over the edge. He didn’t watch him fall the seven stories down to the ground, but he did wait to hear the sickening crack and thud of his body hitting the ground. There was no way he’d survived.

Blood rushing through his ears, he felt euphoric, so powerful, so in love with you. He climbed back into his car and headed for his apartment. His plan wasn’t quite complete yet though, but everything he needed to do was done. He could watch the rest unfold from the sidelines. He knows you’ll be heartbroken all over again when you find out, but he’ll be there to pick up the pieces.

____

You’d been in mourning for nearly two months. The shock you’d felt wasn’t comparable to any other feeling you’d felt. The police ultimately ruled his death an accident, they performed an autopsy and found dangerous amounts of alcohol in his system. They weren’t able to pinpoint an exact time of death but estimated 2-3 AM, as he’d been found in the morning. They figured he’d just gotten piss drunk and came too close to the edge. And he was gone just like that.

His death weighed heavy on you, you blamed yourself for a long time. He wouldn’t have stayed out if you hadn’t pushed him so far away from you. The last thing you ever said to him was nagging and whiny, no wonder he didn’t want to come home. To think that you were possibly going to leave him. You felt so much self-contempt but slowly you were learning to forgive yourself.

You don’t know what you’d have done without Steve by your side. He was there for you every step of the way. He held you at the funeral, he helped you pack up Sean’s things in the apartment, he took your late night phone calls and came over at the drop of a hat to help you through your grief. You were eternally grateful for his selflessness and his willingness to help you heal.

Guilt loomed over you once again as the old feelings you’d had for Steve in the early days of your friendship started to flare up again. It felt natural to feel them, with him being closer to you than he ever was, but it didn’t stop you from feeling shame over it. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t culpable for anything that happened, that Sean himself was interested in someone else when he’d died. You had to forgive yourself for these feelings for Steve. Maybe even pursue them.

‘Can you come over tonight? I think we should talk’ Your nerves were on fire from the rush you got sending him that text.

‘How about you come to my place? 7? We can go for something to eat if you want.’ Your heart was fluttering, was this a date?

‘Sounds good :)’

Checking the time you saw it was 4, you spent the next few hours obsessing over what to say. No matter what you were determined to tell him your feelings for him. You were debating whether or not you should kiss him. Would he even want you back? What if he only sees you as a friend now? The hours whiled away and you took a deep breath before setting out.

You’d been to Steve’s apartment only once before, you knew he lived alone but he’d managed to make the place feel homey. You were buzzed in and before you had the chance to knock on the door Steve had it open and was waiting for you. His smile was all teeth and it was contagious, you smiled back looking up at him and he let you in.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Steve. No turning back now. Deep breath. He sat down and turned to face you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

No words were coming to you. Your mouth opened but you could only sputter. Oh God, where were the words? Do something!

So you did. Before you could think about it you put a shaky hand up to Steve’s jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. You didn’t know what you were feeling, you were just waiting for Steve to respond. You began to pull back but before you could he took your face in his hands and kissed you back tenderly but with purpose. Your arms were around him and he pulled you closer into his lap to kiss you more passionately.

You finally pulled apart to catch your breath. You snuck a look up to his face and you were nervous but you felt like you were floating.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” He said between breaths.

You two smiled like idiots and he brought his lips to yours again. The kiss deepened and a moan slipped from your mouth. This seemed to spark something in Steve and his hands shakily moved over your body. He was feeling every curve of you and you ground down into his lap and his hips bucked up in response. You have no idea where this confidence came from but you’d never felt more sure of yourself. You broke apart again and Steve was breathing heavily.

“Is this what you want?” He asked. You could only nod before he was on you again. He pulled you up from the couch and led you to his bed. This time he laid you back and was hovering over you, slowly undoing the buttons of your jeans. You helped him get yourself out of them and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. How was this happening? Who cares?

He sat back and took the sight of you in, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing. He slowly removed his clothes and moved back over you, kissing his way up your thighs before pulling your panties down your legs. He continued laving away at your skin, making you nervous but excited. His fingers brushed your core and he brought them up to his face.

“Sweetheart, you are dripping.” Your cheeks heated instantly as he chuckled. Not giving you the chance to respond he dove right in. Two fingers entered you and you arched your back, his tongue lapped up your wetness and then at your clit. You’d really never known pleasure like this, no one had ever done this for you before. His fingers pumped in and out of you and your hands flew to his hair and pulled. He continued on and curved his fingers just slightly and you clenched down around him, you were so close.

“Please, I’m so close” you whimpered.

Steve doubled his efforts and before you knew it the tension he had been building up was released in a white hot flash of ecstasy. You writhed against his fingers as he kept pumping them into you. Finally he relented, pulling them out and licking them clean. You’d never seen something that made you feel so filthy but so so good.

He took off his boxers and encased you in his arms. He kissed your neck and you moaned again at the feeling. You spread yourself for him and he lined himself up and groaned. The stretch was something you weren’t ready for. It burned almost, you cried out as he put his whole length in you. He waited all of two seconds before he began thrusting into you. You weren’t ready but you were adjusting quickly with the way his cock hit that spot inside of you over and over.

You were holding onto his shoulders, nails digging in deep as he started to go harder and faster.

“I’m close” He panted into your ear.

Reaching down his fingers found your clit and started moving back and forth quickly, trying to match his thrusts. The tension was building again to a breaking point and you were getting close again. He worked you even harder until you broke, cumming for a second time. Your eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy as you cried again.

“Steve!”

That was all it took before he slammed into you a final time, you could feel his release and you’d never felt closer to him. His movements stopped and your noses touched. He kissed you hard before rolling off of you.

“That was… oh my god” you breathed.

“I know, me too” Steve chuckled. “So can I take you to dinner?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” You grinned wide and nodded.

You cleaned yourself up and redressed. You were taking in Steve’s room and found yourself smiling at the photos of him and Bucky, little knick-knacks on his dresser. You found a sticky note on the calendar at his desk. You squinted. Had you seen his handwriting before?

You shrugged and flopped yourself back on the bed. You checked the weather on your phone and frowned at the temperature, you let out a small groan.

“What is it?” Steve called from the bathroom as he cleaned up.

“It’s so coooold and I forgot my jacket” You pouted.

“Just take mine, it’s the brown leather one hanging in the living room” He was so sweet.

Gingerly, you made your way into the living room and found the jacket, slipping it on. You don’t know what was taking Steve so long but you shoved your hands in the pockets and waited for him. You felt something in the right pocket. Is this trash? You pulled out little wadded up pieces of paper and unfolded them.

They were parking stubs. They were from the same structure that Sean had fallen from. Your heart was pounding, upset just thinking of him. Looking closer one of them was stamped for 2:15 AM, 2/1, the night that he died. Okay...

1 AM 1/15, 11:57PM 1/28, They matched the timestamp on the photos that had been sent to you. Two others were from nights when Sean had games and had stayed out late. Your heart was in your throat and tears were forming in your eyes, trying to find some explanation. You thought again of the first time you’d received an envelope, those photos, that note. It had dawned on you why the note looked so familiar… The handwriting! Oh, God... Your whole world slowed down as you heard footsteps bound into the room. Slowly you turned, the stubs still in your shaking hands.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve took a step further, “You weren’t supposed to see those.”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #college AU #librarian AU #steve rogers x reader #marvel x reader #dark!marvel #stalker!steve rogers #smut #angst #dark fic #dark marvel fics #dark mcu #twoyearsofdark

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