#little something in between while I'm working on the angst
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Drowning
꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Jeongin X fem! reader
Summary: After you suffer a miscarriage, it feels like the entire world is ending and nothing will ever be the same.
Genre: Comfort/hurt with angst
Word Count: 2.8K
Trigger warning: Miscarriage, child loss, depression, mentions of stillborn baby and all the effects that come with life after pregnancy.
A/N: I know I have requests waiting to be written, but this idea keeps buzzing around my head like a fly which leads me to believe that there's someone out there struggling with this. If you need it, I hope this finds you and I'm sorry because this is a different kind of hurt. Requests shall continue after this one, I promise.
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People always talk about the pregnancy glow. They talk about the radiant skin and bright eyes. The aura of happiness surrounding the mother and the pep in their step. There’s a joy in bringing a new life into the world, but they don’t talk about what happens when it doesn’t work out.
Laying on the floor of the nursery, you couldn’t understand why. Why did people get to bring a new life into the world, but not you? Your baby never got to see the way the world looked outside the womb. There were no colors and no sounds. Not the gentleness of a mother’s voice or the warm cradle from the father.
Miscarriages didn’t happen to everyone, but it happened to you. After excruciating stomach cramps and bleeding, you went to the hospital. The worst part? You already knew. You knew something was wrong, you were just hoping the motherly instincts were wrong. You were hoping it was just your nerves.
You’d go in and the doctor would see you. You’d be checked on and so would the baby. You’d get to hear the faint walloping of the heartbeat and you’d be relieved of all your worries while soaking it in, but…that didn’t happen.
You saw it in the nurse’s face when she was pressing the ultrasound wand against your stomach. She excused herself from the room to get the doctor and you just knew. That little soft pitter-patter was gone and so was your everything.
That glittering glimpse of a future you held onto slipped between your fingers. When the doctor sat on the stool, picked up the wand, and began to slip it across the cool gel on your stomach, the world seemed to stop. Before she spoke, you saw the sadness physically fill her eyes.
The part where she explained your options became muddled. You couldn’t remember it, but somehow Jeongin showed up and entered the room. His teary eyes went to you and that’s when it finally clicked in your brain. Your baby was gone and they weren’t coming back.
The messy finger-painted photos, you envisioned decorating your fridge, would never come to fruition. Memories of the baby shower and all the baby stuff you had would never be used. The clothes would remain folded in the small dresser and collect dust.
That baby book you purchased with Jeongin, it’d never be used. The little hats and the conversations about newborn photos, gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
Everything was gone.
The two of you hadn’t settled on a name. You both wanted the gender to be a surprise. Caught up in a mist of sadness, you still didn’t know the gender. The memories were hazy and nothing quite made sense.
You remember screaming at Jeongin and then screaming at the doctor. Anguish gripped your heart until it burst. When a peach cup got thrown at the doctor’s head, nurses got involved.
You remembered Jeongin’s teary russet eyes. The hand he kept over his mouth to stifle sobs as you lost it. He hadn’t just lost the baby, he lost you too. You turned into a shell of yourself.
You stopped speaking and Jeongin had to practically beg you to eat. It was the doctor and Jeongin that decided giving birth vaginally wasn’t the best idea for you. They decided a C-section was a better option, but in your opinion, the best option would have been to let you rot with your baby.
You were possessed by grief and didn’t know how to separate yourself from it. It wrapped around your wrists and pinned down your ankles. It wrestled in your stomach and tainted your bloodstream.
It was easily the worst thing that you had ever been through. There was just a moment when you felt peace. When your baby had been slipped into your arms, swaddled in a soft green blanket.
Tendrils of hair poked out of a hat that a nurse had stuck on their head. The pouted lips were pressed together and their eyes were shut. The color was drained from their face, but at that moment, it didn’t matter.
The weight of their body in your arms felt normal. Your heart briefly bloomed before it withered again. You remember Jeongin standing somewhere off in the distance. His eyes glanced between the two of you as he held his breath while hoping that you’d be okay.
A smile broke out on your face as you cooed softly. Your voice remained low because speaking too loud would wake them up. For a brief moment, you forgot that they were gone. You didn’t care about how stiff they were in your arms. How their tiny heart didn’t beat and their chest didn’t rise.
During that moment, you were a mother. You would do anything to protect the bundle of joy in your arms. You’d give your life for theirs, but they were already gone. You clung to them and refused to let go. Even when Jeongin quietly tried to coax you away from them, you refused.
He hated it because he knew how much it’d destroy you. The truth was that you had to say good-bye. You couldn’t stay attached to your baby. The skin would disintegrate and smell. It would rot away and your baby would wither in your arms. No matter how much you pleaded, he wouldn’t allow you to go through that.
When you fell asleep clutching your baby to your chest, he managed to ease them from your grip. He knew how upset you’d be when you woke up, but it was for the best. Grief tends to do funny things to people sometimes.
After waking up, it didn’t take long for nurses to sedate you. Your stomach was full of stitches, but you didn’t care. You were too pumped full of pain meds to realize the pain.
It took nearly a week before Jeongin could bring you back home. Your house was haunted when you got there. The baby swing was still in your living room. Baby bottles were clean and neatly stacked in the cupboards.
You bought new picture frames to add photographs of your baby to the photos around the house. You had plans to put one on the nightstand beside your bed. Unfortunately, there was nothing left.
You couldn’t sleep on your stomach. You were haunted by your womb. You could feel how empty it was now. No tiny kicks and no punches. When you gently cupped below the stitches, your eyes watered.
Out of all the people in the world, why did this happen to you? Why weren’t you good enough to make it through the pregnancy? You only had a few months left and that’s what made it really sting.
You were so close and yet so far. Was it something in your body? Was this some sort of curse? Was it a sign from the universe that you weren’t meant to be a mother?
Jeongin woke up to soft distant sobs that night. He started to feel his way around the darkened house and he found you laying on the floor of the nursery. You clutched the stuffed bear that the two of you had bought for your child.
It was going to be their childhood stuffed animal. One that they could grow up with and clutch onto through their worst days. Maybe they’d take it with them everywhere when they were a toddler. Perhaps it’d be invited to tea parties or walk the plank while playing pirates.
You weeped and clutched it to your chest. In the faint moonlight, the tears were illuminated on your face. In the nursery doorway, his heart shattered. You were a mother going through grief and he didn’t know how to help you. He couldn’t take away this loss, it was too big for him; much too large to physically carry with two hands. He couldn’t wrap it up and toss it in the trash, it was opaque
You laid on the soft large circular rug that the two of you had claimed was for tummy time when your kid got older. Your arms wrapped around your chest with the stuffed bear. Your knees were tucked up towards your chest. You were exhausted and broken.
Nobody talked about the weight of the grief from a stillborn birth. They didn’t tell you that you’d still go through lactation. Your breasts would still produce milk and it’d soak your bra. There’d be no tiny mouth to feed. No child to nurse and help grow big and strong.
They didn’t tell you about the severe stomach cramps that sometimes were as sharp as knives and the ones that were dull and tortuous as your uterus reshaped itself internally.
They didn’t talk about the hollow feeling inside your body. Knowing that you had attempted to carry your pregnancy to full term and then failed, you felt useless. You felt broken and you were so exhausted.
If love could have saved them, they would have lived forever. You would have built them into the best person they could have been. You would have cherished every moment and remind yourself that you were a kid once too when the tough moments came, but now they never would.
You and Jeongin spent hours fixing up the nursery for them. How ironic that you had picked a Peter Pan theme. You knew that your child would grow up one day, but you had been hoping that it wouldn’t have been too fast. How cruel it was to have them ripped away before they could take their first breath.
You spent hours on that white rug, digging your fingers into the soft fibers, trying to put together disconnected thoughts. Your brain had disconnected from your body. The world was blurry and you weren’t sure how to continue going on.
Jeongin was worried sick about you. So worried that he had to take off work to keep an eye on you. He was terrified that you’d harm yourself. You laid there on that rug with empty eyes.
Whether you realized it or not, you kept talking out loud in a quiet voice. You kept discussing motherhood and he was pretty sure you were consoling the baby that didn’t exist anymore. When he first realized it, he had to turn around and leave you alone. Walking into your shared bedroom and shutting the door, he collapsed on the bed defeated and burst into sobs.
The two of you were polar opposites during the whole scenario. You were orbiting around each other, but never touching. Your doctor told him that you just needed time.
So he waited and he waited. He supplied you with store-bought peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and juice boxes. It was the only thing he could get you to eat. He came up with any reason he could to walk past the door of the nursery to check on you.
On and on the days went until one day, you weren’t lying on the floor anymore, you were on the rocking chair. Unsure of what he was seeing, he froze in his spot before he went closer to the door and peeked his head inside.
“Jeongin?” You croaked as you looked up.
He paused for a moment before he slowly approached you. “Hi, honey.”
“I don’t feel good.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head. Tears began to fill your eyes again. Despite your body language, you continued. “How do I make it stop hurting?”
“What?”
“The ache of losing out on motherhood.”
He slowly stretched a hand out towards you. Your fingers reached out and grabbed his. He pulled you up and led you towards the rug. Without a word, he got down and plopped down on his side. You followed his lead and curled up on your own side facing him.
A silence fell between the two of you as you observed each other’s faces. You couldn’t remember the last time you laid next to Jeongin like this. The two of you had been distant for far too long.
He reached out with a thumb and slowly wiped away your salty tears. You sniffled and kept your eyes on him. The truth was that you really were lost. You felt empty and useless. There was nothing inside of you. You didn’t know when the last time was that you remembered your own beating heart. You weren’t even aware that you were still breathing.
“You didn’t lose out on anything,” he whispered. “Sometimes things like this happen, but we can always try again.”
“I don’t think I want to try again.”
“You don’t have to try again if you don’t want to. The most important thing is helping you feel better. Are you okay?”
“N-No,” your voice cracked, “I’m hollow. I want to bring them back and I-” You squeezed your eyes shut knowing the floodgates were about to burst. “What did I do to deserve this?” Your voice came out shrill. “What did I do?”
The knife had been lodged in his chest for weeks, but those words twisted it. He could feel the blood mix with sadness. He hated seeing you so broken.
“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes these things happen unplanned and it’s not your fault. You did your best, remember? Remember how you refused to eat seafood because of the baby? You even gave up coffee because you said caffeine was bad for them.”
Your eyes reopened.
“Do you remember how you read children's books every night before bed out loud? You used to sing to them every morning in the shower. I remember that you used to curl your hands around your stomach protectively while cooking.”
A smile began to form on his face. He could see the gears starting to shift in your head. “And you used to lecture me when I drove a digit higher than the speed limit. You promised you’d never let me live it down if we got in an accident.”
“And you said we could never be sexually intimate because y-”
“I was afraid that we’d traumatize the baby.”
It was a miracle that you started to laugh. The tears were still streaming down your face, but you were laughing. The sound was a melody to his ears. His grin stretched wider and his dimples showed.
“What about that time you spilled food down the front of your shirt and some got on your stomach? You apologized to the baby for getting them messy.”
“I guess I did, huh?”
“So please don’t think you weren’t a good mother. You did what you could for them even if they didn’t make it out of the womb. They still heard your voice.”
“And your singing,” you added.
“We would have been the best parents in the world. Remember when I finger painted a smiley face on your stomach when you were sleeping? I took photos and you woke up whining and upset and you claimed I had painted on the baby.”
“Because you did!”
“I didn’t! It was your stomach!”
“The baby was in there!”
“And your skin protected them!”
The two of you bickered back and forth until you burst into a fit of shared giggles. You shifted and moved closer to Jeongin’s warmth. Your head tucked into his shoulder. You let out a soft sigh and he wrapped an arm around your back.
“Thank you,” you mumbled.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I love you too.”
The two of you laid on the floor curled into each other appreciating the warmth. It was nice to be connected to your lover again. You spent so long away, you forgot about how much he felt like home. As the two of you continued laying there, your stomach suddenly growled.
“Uh…honey?”
“I hate to break this up, but can we go get Subway? I really want a sub. Maybe turkey or ham or oh! I know, maybe I’ll just get both.” You quickly sat up and got to your feet.
Behind you, Jeongin watched you in amazement. He was happy that you were starting to act a bit more like your old self. It wasn’t going to last forever and you’d still struggle sometimes, so would he.
However, with each other, there was a high chance that you could help each other through it. Through thick and thin, sickness and in health, until death did you part.
After all, that’s what the matching wedding rings on your fingers meant.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
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#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids drabbles#skz fanfic#yang jeongin#yang jeongin fanfic#i.n fanfic#i.n x reader#i.n x y/n#i.n x you#i.n stray kids
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Simon x gn!reader
Read the Modern Warfare: Ghost comics yesterday and they poked my brain in some spots. They inspired this, because yes Simon sexy; big man makes brain go brrr but what if Simon says no?
Warnings: heated make out session, not proofread and it's late so it sucks
Simon moans under you as you kiss him, the sound making your body ache with need. It echoes in your ribcage making your heart flutter and frantically beat against your ribs, trying to get to Simon.
Your bodies are pressed against each other and you already feel lightheaded when you haven't even taken your clothes off.
But Simon is shirtless and all that skin under your hands drives you insane while you're making out. Tongues lazily intertwining, rubbing together, creating that delicious friction that makes you pant.
Simons pupils are blown wide as he looks up at you on his lap. You can feel how affected he is by you as well and it increases your desire tenfold.
You think you'll go crazy if you don't get the clothes separating you two out of the way. Your entire body is calling out to the man under you and you need to do something about it before you lose your mind.
Slowly you move your hand over his pecs, dipping your head to follow that path with your lips and tongue, marking his skin while you're at it.
Simon makes a sound that's half a whimper, half a moan and it makes you bite down on his pec which in turn gets an actual whimper out of him.
You look up at him and he's thrown his head back, watching you through almost closed eyes, burning you with his desire.
His chest is heaving and his harsh pants of air are actually audible. You have never seen him so wrecked before and you can't wait to ruin him when he moans your name. And your hips twitch in response.
Th reaction only seems to fuel his desire more and he bites his lip trying to stifle the sounds he's making.
Your hand continues its path down his tummy towards his pants where your reward awaits. Your heart speeds up as you get to his waistband.
It's such a tiny moment you would have missed it if you were less aware of every single movement of Simon.
Just for a second he goes stiff and then relaxes again.
Your hand stills. Your eyes trail up from his crotch again to meet his eyes. There's a tightness around his mouth that doesn't sit well with you.
He's the picture of relaxation, but it's not real anymore. His eyes are wide open, you can see the muscles in his arms flex, even as he keeps them down, seemingly open and relaxed.
You sit back on his thighs, ceasing all other movement.
"Tell me, baby.", you gently encourage.
Simon shakily exhales, puts his hand over yours, that's still sitting just over his waistband and moves your hand back up to his chest.
You can feel his heart hammering under your palm and it doesn't feel like desire anymore. It feels like a hectic little animal being chased. It feels like anxiety and slight panic.
He stays quiet, not moving a muscle and you match him, gently stroking your thumb over his skin, scooting closer again, so you're not half bent over from where you tried to get to his zipper.
"I don't... I'm sorry, 'luv.", he whispers roughly and you smile. A sad smile but it's gentle and you can feel Simons heart slow down under your palm at your smile.
"It's okay. No need to apologize."
His other hand finds your neck and he draws you in until your foreheads touch and you can feel his shaky breath on your lips.
One of your hands mimics his, while the other one stays on his chest, his skin warm and scarred against yours.
Gently you squeeze the back of his neck. "We're okay." You whisper and you can feel him finally relax again.
You know there's so much he probably feels like saying but as he so often does he lets the silence speak for him.
Luckily you've gotten fluent in Simon's silence over the time.
"I don't care, baby. I only care about you being here with me. My needs can be taken care of in other ways. We don't need that to be close. We've got our own ways."
Instead of answering, he kisses you again and you arch your back so all of you is pressed to him.
It has nothing of the desperation of earlier even if the heat is still simmering deep in your belly.
It's all comfort and closeness now.
He cups your face, as if you're the most precious thing he's ever held and you smile into the kiss.
"How can you be so... so... good?", he asks. If you didn't know him as well as you did you would have missed the way his voice sounds slightly choked up.
"I love you.", is your simple answer and he shakes his head.
"I don't get it. Why are you not sick o' me? Why haven't ya found someone who can do normal shit."
You smile, peck his lips and try to pull back, which turns into him holding you close and deepening the kiss before you attempt to pull back again. He doesn't let you and you grin into the kiss. Finally he lets you go, both of you laughing quietly.
"I will never be sick of you. I don't need anything but you. And you are enough, exactly as you are, right now in this moment. You've always been enough."
You can see his eyes widen as your words hit him, his hands find your hips and hike you up a bit more and then he hides his face in your chest, his arms around you, chrushing you to him
If the way his fingers dig into your skin is slightly painful you don't comment on it. You bring your arms up and hold him just as tightly.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod simon x reader#gn!reader#simon x gn!reader#consent is sexy#little something in between while I'm working on the angst
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MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.
He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.
Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.
You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.
“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”
Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.
There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.
Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.
You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.
Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.
As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.
He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.
“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.
Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.
Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.
“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.
He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.
“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.
His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.
Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.
The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.
Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.
He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.
From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.
“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.
“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.
Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.
A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.
"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.
Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabble#jungkook drabbles#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#bts smut
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd chapter here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
#this was all written in one go#so that's fun#more angst than anything honestly#not really any yan but it is supposed to be for yan stuff#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere x gn reader#gn reader#platonic yandere#neglected reader#sibling reader#reader tries too hard and does their best but finds out it isn't enough#some things just aren't meant to be#but that doesn't mean they get to run around scott free either
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happiest day
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings
word count: <1k
Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.
It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.
You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.
"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.
There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.
"...What?"
He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.
"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.
His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.
You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?
You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.
"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.
He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.
You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.
Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.
Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.
His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.
"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.
His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.
His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.
Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.
He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.
Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.
You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.
thanks for reading!
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#fnaf imagine#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#more hidden lore references YEP
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Honorifics
A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise.
Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper.
T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.
When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.
Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.
The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.
The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.
Ghost however… didn’t like it.
Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.
He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.
The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.
He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.
Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.
With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.
It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.
The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.
Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.
A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.
Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.
“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.
It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.
“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”
Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.
“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.
Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.
When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.
“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.
You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.
“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.
“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.
His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.
He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.
The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.
“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.
“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”
Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.
You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.
But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.
Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.
“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.
“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.
“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.
“Yes, sir.”
His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.
“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.
“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.
“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.
“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.
“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.
“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.
“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”
Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.
Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.
“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”
You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.
“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.
Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”
You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”
His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”
“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”
Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#velvetures writes#velvetures#hurt/comfort#angst with a happy ending
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: angst, fighting, kind of fluff at the end?
Summary: You and Spencer make it a rule not to bring your work home with you, but you can't help it when he blatantly ignores you on a case. You're pissed at him, and you decide to show him just how long you can stay pissed at him.
Square Filled: "I'm fine." for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
The worst part of being in a relationship with someone you work with is that sometimes, you bring your work home with you. You and Spencer try not to let your work affect your personal life, but you can’t let this one go. Everyone from the office felt the tension between you two before you left, and during the car ride, you prepared what you were going to say to him as soon as you walked through the front door.
“So, you’re just ignoring me now?” Spencer asks and follows you inside.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Spencer. Why do I even tell you things if you’re not even going to fucking listen to me?”
“What you suggested was wrong, and had I listened to you, someone else would have gotten hurt.”
“No,” you whip around to face him, “I told you how to get the unsub and where he was going to be. I told you he was going to be armed so I suggested bringing in the SWAT team as backup. What did you do? You and Derek enter the house alone and disregard everything I told you.”
“Had I gone in with the SWAT team, the unsub would have seen them and started shooting. Morgan and I were able to trap him by sneaking up on him. I can’t very well do that with a whole team behind me.” He sets his bag down on the counter and rubs his face tiredly. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re bugging about this. Everything worked out.”
“You don’t get it,” you scoff. “It’s not about how we got the unsub. It’s about the fact that you didn't even consider what I had to say. You went ahead and did it on your own. If that’s how you want to do things, then fine. I won’t help you ever again.”
You grab a water bottle from the fridge and make your way to the stairs.
“You’re overreacting about this.”
“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
With that, you leave your husband at the bottom of the stairs alone. He rolls his eyes and decides to let you have this night. Tomorrow, he’s going to make you see that your plan wouldn’t have worked.
In the morning, you’re already at work by the time he gets up. Normally, sleep is a cleanser for you. If you go to bed angry, you’re usually calmed down by the morning. However, he can see you’re going to milk this as long as you can. That’s fine. If you want to play games, he’ll play it your way.
Spencer walks into the office and sees you at your desk. You know he’s here because the chatter gets quiet. Your coworkers are curious to see how this is going to play out. Derek and Emily think Spencer is going to stay strong and stand his ground while JJ and Rossi think he’s going to fold because you have this man wrapped around your finger even if you don’t see it.
Spencer walks past him but you don’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence. He waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he gets a little annoyed with you.
“Really? You’re giving me the silent treatment?” You don’t give him a response. “Okay, fine. I’ll play your games.”
You grab some files and make your way to Penelope’s office without a look back at him. She swirls her chair around to greet you, a big smile on her face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You’ve come to the right person.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“I heard you and Spencer are fighting.”
“I’m fine. There’s no fighting because there’s nothing to talk about. He doesn’t see me as an equal and doesn't want to consider what I have to say. What is there to talk about?” you shrug and hand her some files to work with.
“So, you’re not going to be an adult and have an adult conversation?”
“No,” you wink and leave her office.
The only way you’re going to talk to Spencer is if it’s about work. He thought you were going to give in and apologize after the first day, but you’ve been this way all week. You’re at work before he gets up, you don’t greet him anymore, and you still sleep in the guest room. By the end of the week, you realize you were wrong about how to handle the unsub. Spencer’s plan was the right one. He knew how the unsub was going to behave and made a plan based on that while you based your plan on how to subdue him easily.
The last thing you’re going to do is tell him he’s right.
Now, it’s a game of how long you can do this to him before he breaks. Everyone, including Spencer, knows he’ll be the first one to break even if he doesn’t want to admit it. You’re very good at getting your way, and this is no different. Spencer can tell the shift in energy from you being genuinely pissed at him to doing it on purpose. He knows you too well to know that you’re only doing this to be petty.
He told himself to not go without speaking to or kissing you, but it’s proving to be a lot harder. His love language is touch and he’s craving yours. He hasn’t kissed you in over a week and he’s getting desperate. Like admitting-he-was-wrong desperate.
You have Friday off since you requested it off a month ago, but Spencer was called into work for a few hours to help with something. You’re sitting on the couch reading a book when he walks in. He debates on speaking to you knowing full well you won’t speak to him back. How long can you go like this? You’ll have to speak to him at some point.
He sighs and walks out of the front door to get to work, and you watch him go to the car. He gets in the front seat and starts the car, but he doesn’t drive off. He grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. You wonder what he’s thinking. He looks behind him as if he is going to reverse but gets out of the car instead. He storms back into the house, and you immediately pretend like you were reading this whole time.
Spencer walks over to you, grips your hair tightly but not tight enough to hurt, tips your head back, and kisses you. The book falls from your hand as you kiss him back. This kiss holds a week’s worth of sexual tension. When he gets back from work, you know he’s going to take you to the bedroom for the rest of the day. He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages yours, leaving you wanting more.
When he feels you leaning into him, he pulls away with a smirk. Without saying a word, he leaves the house and this time, he actually leaves the driveway. People say he’s wrapped around your finger when really, you’re wrapped around his.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fiction#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fan fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#cm#cm fic#cm fiction#cm fanfiction#cm fanfic#cm fluff#cm angst
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Enjoy the Silence
Dad!Neteyam x Mom!reader
IN WHICH Neteyam realizes that he’s ruining the relationship between you two by putting his duties first, making your little family fall apart in the process.
Warnings: ANGST, arguing, neteyam is a lil dumb, eventual fluff.
A/N: IM BAAAAACK with a little shitty filler story for yall 🤭
Yours and Neteyam’s relationship had not always been this messy, filled with unresolved arguments and crying toddlers to tend to in the midst of the night. Matter of fact you both had been somewhat of a popular pair amongst the Omaticaya while Jake still ruled the clan, and it wasn’t like that had changed much throughout the years.
Two young, star-crossed lovers bound to fall for each other, bonded for life under the eyes of the All-Mother. There had been little complications in your relationship as you both grew with each other, accepted by both parents and blessed by Eywa herself. You complimented each like you both had been moulded in the sole purposes of completing one another, while you brought some gaiety into Neteyam’s life, he was always there to ground and guide you.
Amidst the instances that life had brought you to, the Great-Mother had been nice enough to bless you both with a new life, a son that had soon been accompanied by his very own sister. Though as Neteyam’s duties began to catch up on his poor soul, his duties as a father and mate have ignorantly been left in the dust.
Your heart ached at the many nights that you had spent alone at night, tending to your two young children while your husband was outside, treating some unrelated matter. Though you knew that being affiliated with the Olo’eyktan’s son would surely mean a future with many obstacles and unforeseen trouble, nothing could’ve prepared you for the rocky stages in your relationship that you were currently facing.
Now as you left as quickly as you arrived, a bowl full of threading needles and feathers in your arms that you had deposited to your mate, Jake could already tell that something was wrong. The tense silence that lingered around you both was suffocating, and low for any pair that shared a bond. Plus it was not like Jake was a stranger to you, he knew you and your talkative mouth, so this was truly odd.
“Your woman cannot even look at you in the face.” Neteyam’s ears flicker towards the sound of his father’s voice, startling him in the process as his calloused fingers graze the tip of the arrow that he was currently working on. The edge is sharp and draws blood from underneath his layers of skin, but an injury of this size does little to phase a warrior.
Neteyam shakes his head at Jake’s words, not finding it in himself to care at his father’s vague words. “What goes on in my home is anything but your concern.”
Jake winces internally at his eldest son’s harsh tone, differing from the usual tenderness and care that laced it. He knew not to take anything to heart, that the constant frown on his son’s face was probably the main source of it. The frown that he had brought amongst himself, though he fails to realise it for now, Jake is persistent on making his hard headed son understand.
Jake’s experienced fingers swiftly threaded a piece of string around his fletching, securing the feather onto the lower part of his arrow. His yellow eyes trailed towards his tall pile of finished arrows, while his son’s harboured a pitiful amount of 5.
“What’s wrong, son?” Jake sighed as he watched his son’s ears fall at his question, his hands pausing their work once more, this time free of any new injury.
“My mate is upset at me,” Neteyam breathed out loudly, and the pause in his voice made it known to his father that he was not quite done talking yet, so observant silence was what he was met with. “We have arguments nearly every night when I come home, and I'm sure that it’s affecting Nikko and Raylu just as much as it’s affecting us.”
Jake watched a sliver of a smile make its way onto Neteyam’s face at the mention of his two beloved children, before quickly fading away at the situation.
The sun had nearly started to leave place for the moon, eclipse bound to fall upon the lands of Pandora. The soft orange hue kissed the father and son, complementing their vibrant yellow eyes. Jake was no stranger to his eldest son’s trouble, for, it was easy to notice the absence of your mate in your family tent, late at night.
Jake didn’t believe that his son had been unfaithful to you, being deceitful was a concept that had been brought to Pandora by the humans, and unlike them, the Na’vi were loyal companions. He knew by the way that Neteyam’s muscles tensed at every move that his son was staying out all night to work, whether it was helping with village work or to help and train the newbies.
Hard-headed just like his mother, Neteyam had let his duties overtake the time that he was supposed to be at home, supposed to be a husband, supposed to be a father. No, instead he used that time to be The Future Olo’eyktan. Though nobody is born perfect, sometimes even people like Neteyam had to be guided to the right direction at times.
“Y’know, it’s never too late to head back home right now, forget about those duties that you have put amongst your own back and be the man that your family craves for.” and with that, it takes a little amount of thinking before Neteyam is up and running, his feet running towards the familiar dirt track towards your little shared hut. He sends a hurried ‘thank you’ and an apology for running off so early, though Jake can only be bothered to chuckle at his son, a sense of pride swarming his chest as he watches his eldest son be the man that he should. The man that you and your children deserve.
-
Neteyam observes as your eyes widen at his early entrance, clearly not being used to having him in your family tent at this hour. The sun had barely started to set, and both your children were just starting to wake up from their afternoon nap. There in your hand laid a tray of fruits, presumably to feed the roaring bellies of your two bundles of joys. Asif on cue, Nikko’s stomach growls as though he had never been fed before and a shushed giggle escapes your throat at the sight of him attempting to grab the fruit from your higher-form.
Neteyam watches with adoration in his eyes as you bend down on your knees to offer him a fruit on the platter, trying to stifle down his own laughter as your son attempts to grab the whole tray instead. Grubby hands gone and chubby stomachs full, the children are now playing on their own. Though your back is turned towards your husband, he knows that you fear the sight of him. Not that you fear him himself, but the conversation that would obviously have to ensue. He wasn’t here early for no reason, and you all knew it.
“I have saved you a special meal, I knew that you’d work until late again tonight,” you whispered out the last part and Neteyam’s ears twitched towards your direction. Though before he could say anything, you corrected yourself. “Or so I thought, but that doesn’t matter because here you are now.”
Your tone was soft and almost too caring for a woman that had spent the last few nights of her life arguing with her husband about his whereabouts, but he was here now, and there was no need to cause a scene.
Neteyam’s eyes observe as you turn around with two bowls in hand, both of them overlapping with steamed Teylu that you had previously prepared. Though the Teylu was the last thing on his mind at the moment, the sight of you had Neteyam practically to his knees. His mind and eyes raced between every single aspect of you, from the way that your clothes hugged your body in every good way possible, to the way your ears were flickering slightly as you awaited for him to say something.
“I’m surprised that the kids have not come running to me yet,” his voice cut through the sudden silence, choosing to ignore what you had said earlier. His eyes were very much still on you and he looked like a lost man. He looked like a fool in-love, and that was most probably what he was anyway, there was no shame in showing it. The both of you had now sat down in front of each other, bowls in hand as you feasted on the delicacy.
“They are too busy caring about their playtime to even notice the both of us, but it’s the age for such behaviour so don’t think anything of it.” you turned your head to take a look at your children once more, a soft smile gracing your face as you watched them carefully play with their carved toys. Toys that their father had hand-carved for them with love.
“They love you” you reassured him, somehow believing that his previous statement was because he thought it wasn’t the case. You turned your head towards your mate, though you weren’t expecting his eyes to meet yours so abruptly. You couldn’t help but notice the swirl of emotions that ran through them, like he was trying to speak to you through them because he couldn’t do it with his own mouth.
“I love you.” Neteyam blurted out before his brain could even process, though the look in his eyes proved that he meant every single word. The lack of hesitation in his voice made your heart thump hard against your chest, so hard that you could’ve thought that Neteyam could hear it. Your ears lowered at his sudden confession, though they were three words that you had heard many times throughout your relationship, they still had you reacting like you did the first time that he uttered them to you.
“I love you too, Neteyam.” you shyly muttered to him, your ears now raising as you stared your husband down with adoration. Neteyam released a breath that he ignored he was holding at your admission, a pressure upon his chest lifting. Bless Eywa, the way that you stared at him with those blown out pupils made him almost need to grip onto the floor to keep him from pouncing on you. Though now was not the time to get all riled up by you, he had a well awaited apology to deliver to you, and a role of husband to take up back on.
“Listen, I know I haven’t been the best mate as of recently, and I know that you have been suffering because of my actions,” Neteyam trailed off, watching you with attentive eyes to see if he could continue. “I know that I have not been present enough for my family, that I have put my duties at a higher position than they should've been. And I'm sorry for all of this, all that I've been causing to us.”
No words could come out of your mouth at his apology, though you wished not to speak. Something about hearing Neteyam being able to apologise and admit his faults had your hard thumping even harder than before, though he was not hundred percent forgiven in your heart.
“I’m sorry for causing unnecessary fights between us when I knew that you just wanted the best for me, or leaving you alone at night to take care of our children. I promise that as of now, I’ll give you all the time that you deserve. Or, pull my head out of my ass like Spider would say.” You both take a moment to laugh about the said man, Neteyam’s human cousin that you strangely adored.
“I love you and this family, there’s no other place that I'd wanna be right now. I don’t care if you don’t forgive me now, or ever in that case. I’d spend the rest of my life trying to fix my wrong doings.” Neteyam whispered to you.
It didn’t take you much after his whole essay-of-an apology for you to drop your half empty bowl to the side, crawling towards Neteyam that was just in front of you. The sudden throw of your arms around his neck was much unexpected for the Sully son, but he’d take that over anything else. His larger palms pulled you further into the hug, pulling you onto his lap with one hand upon your waist as the other laid across your lower back.
Eywa was he so warm, and how much had you missed the natural heat of his body. His arms engulfed your body into his embrace, making you feel much more protected than you needed to. Neteyam couldn’t help the pur that left his throat as you rubbed your cheek against his in a loving act, his heart felt like it could melt at any moment now. You nuzzled your face into his neck, the tip of your nose touching his skin as your breathing tickled him, and his chuckle was the proof of it.
You didn’t know exactly why you had rushed into his arms so quickly, after the amount of time that he had made you wait for him. But you knew that Neteyam was a good man, he was raised by good people, and he would never do anything to harm you or your little family on purpose. Nobody was perfect and neither was he, he’d make mistakes too, and you’d be here to correct him upon it. You deemed that it was probably your bond that led you back into his arms so fast, or the fact that you had missed him so much.
Though you didn’t care, you’d have all the time of your life to sulk and have him work to make it up to you later on.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now, It hurts just to think about the many nights that i’ve spent without you, Neteyam” the said man faltered upon your confession. He felt his heart tighten at the thought of you all cuddled up under a woven blanket as you waited for him to come back home, tears breaching your waterline as you clutched the soft material for comfort. Although when Neteyam opened his mouth to apologise once more, you were cutting him off again.
“Right now all I want is to enjoy this moment with my mate.” With that, the rest of the evening had been spent with laughter and loud catching-up conversations that you were sure that your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow. By the end of the night, your little family had all ended up cuddled up together with your head resting against Neteyam’s chest, your children squeezing in between you both.
Neteyam craned his neck down in a weird angle to take a look at your snoring form across his chest, a fond smile spreading across his face as he admired his beloved family. All he’s ever wanted and all he’s ever needed was right here, in his arms. And for once in weeks, your family tent was not filled with blaring arguments or children’s wailing past eclipse, and Neteyam would gladly enjoy the silence.
-
i’m back after a month with the shittiest ff ever and a peter parker phase that’s coming back after years.🤭
@letsloveimagines
#neteyam x reader#dad!neteyam#atwow#avatar#avatar 2#neteyam sully#neteyam#neteyam oneshot#avatar x reader#neteyam x you#jake sully
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i know who you are | 5. the dinner
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)
WC: 9.5K
Series Masterlist
By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.
One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.
When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.
It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.
"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"
"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."
Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."
"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.
"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.
"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."
He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.
"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.
"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.
"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.
"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.
"Who are the Fireflies?"
His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.
"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.
"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.
Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.
"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"
You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.
It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.
"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.
"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.
"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.
"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."
You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.
"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.
"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."
"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"
He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."
"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"
Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."
"Did you join them, too?" you asked.
"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.
"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"
His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."
You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"
Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.
"No."
And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.
"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"
"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."
Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"
"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."
"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.
"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."
You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.
"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.
"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.
"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.
"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.
"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."
The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.
"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"
You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.
"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.
"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"
"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"
She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.
"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.
"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.
"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.
He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.
"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.
"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.
"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.
"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.
"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.
"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."
Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.
"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.
"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"
"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.
You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.
"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.
"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."
You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.
"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.
"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.
"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.
"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."
You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."
Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"
You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."
She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.
"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."
Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.
Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.
"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.
"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."
She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."
You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.
Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.
"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.
"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.
"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.
"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."
"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.
"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.
"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.
"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.
You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.
If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.
Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.
When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.
It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.
In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.
The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.
"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.
"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.
"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.
"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."
"No, it's okay-"
"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.
Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.
When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"
The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.
"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.
"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.
"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.
"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.
"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.
"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.
"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?
You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?
He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.
You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.
You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"
"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.
The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.
"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"
"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.
You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.
"Where are you going?"
"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.
What an absolute fucking idiot he was.
What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?
You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?
No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.
His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.
He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.
"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.
Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.
"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.
"Angie."
She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.
"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.
"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.
She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.
His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.
"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
"Don't call me that."
Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."
"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.
She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.
"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.
"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.
"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.
He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.
It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.
Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.
"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.
"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.
"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.
"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.
He had to get home.
The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.
When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.
"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.
"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."
He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.
"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.
"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."
"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.
"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.
He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."
His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.
"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.
"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.
"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"
"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"
"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.
"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.
"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"
His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.
He was losing you.
"Please, lemme just explain-"
"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"
"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"
"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"
"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"
You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.
"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."
"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.
"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.
"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.
"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.
"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.
"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"
You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.
He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.
"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.
"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"
You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.
"The hell does that even mean?"
You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"
"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.
"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.
"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.
"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.
"You can't."
His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.
"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."
You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.
"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.
"Then tell me what you lied about."
His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.
You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.
"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.
He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.
"Okay."
The shock made your tears slow to a stop.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."
I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.
"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.
"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.
"Yes."
"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."
"Research? I don't know anything about-"
"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.
"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?
"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."
You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.
"Ellie's immune."
Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.
"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."
You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.
"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."
Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.
"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"
You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.
"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."
"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."
You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.
"Me?" you squeaked.
"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.
"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."
You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.
"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.
"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.
"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.
He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.
"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."
"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.
"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"
"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.
"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."
"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.
"After I fell in love with you."
You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?
"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.
"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.
"You spared my life just to break my heart."
He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"
"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."
He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"
You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.
Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.
"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.
So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.
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A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel the last of us#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#the last of us game#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#ikwya fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou
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Can I ask for a similar scenarios for Unrequited (Alastor x reader). It could be a part 2 technically ♥️♥️
Reader defending Husk from Alastor when he threatens him in ep 5?? Breaking their already destroyed friendship even more. I NEED ANGST IN MY LIFE
A/N uh,, of course??? i love this idea??? I... I'm obsessed. I'm literally so excited to write this. I hope you like whatever I come up with. If you requested something I will get it out in the next couple days!! I'm trying to be quick.
Unrequited Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Angst and an unhealthy as fuck relationship. Pining. Non-mutual pining.
Word Count: 2,681 (The way this is like twice as long as part one. I got excited. Sorry guys.)
Part One: Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
"So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible," Charlie was explaining to her father as they walked through the halls of the hotel, Vaggie and Alastor trailing behind the pair, "this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it. The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped-"
"Hey, Boss. Can we have a word?" Husk cut in.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, an eyebrow raised. Placing an arm behind his back, he turned to face the cat demon in irritation.
"What is it?" Alastor asked, his narrowed eyes the only thing about his face which displayed his true emotions.
Alastor's gaze softened slightly as he realized Y/n was standing beside Husk. She grabbed her left arm with her right, rubbing it in obvious discomfort as she looked away from Alastor and Husk, examining the walls with determination.
"Listen, we all know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'." Husk sighed after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to be getting anything but moral support from his anxious and angry companion, "That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"
Alastor took a step forward, watching the two demon's carefully. Irritation ticked at the back of his head like a countdown for a bomb. He had to be careful. There was already so much wrong between Y/n and himself, he had no desire to make any of it worse. Alastor, as much as he hated it, knew she was close with Husk, cared for him even. He tried his best to remain calm.
"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker." Alastor turned away, moving to head back down the hallway after the rest of the tour, "Who in their right mind would cross me?"
Y/n looked over at her companion, feeling a shift in the air beside her. He had is fists clenched, his brow furrowed. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
Husk turned, meeting Y/n's eyes. She gave him a pointed look, one that reminded him who he was talking to. One that asked him to be careful. Husk took a deep breath and unclenched his muscles. Y/n's hand fell back to her side.
"I mean..." Husk tried to chose his words carefully. He was honestly worried about the whole Mimzy situation and wasn't going to give it up, "you've been gone a while and it's not like anyone knows why."
Alastor stilled, turning his head slightly to the side. He watched Husk carefully over his shoulder as he replied.
"They don't need to know." Alastor turned to face Husk fully now, leaning towards him with a finger in the air, "And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it."
Husk growled, pushing Alastor's hand from his head as the Radio Demon tried to scratch his ears.
"You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!" he snapped, poking Alastor harshly in the chest.
"But you are!" Alastor laughed, straightening himself.
Husk was trembling with anger now, unable to hold himself back. Alastor turned again, once more making to rejoin the group he had left and Husk watched him through narrowed eyes.
Y/n nudged Husk's foot lightly with the tip of her boot in an effort to remind him to keep his cool, but Husk brushed it off entirely. He stepped forward, out of her reach.
"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash."
Y/n sighed. Alastor stopped walking. The lights flickered out in the hall for a moment.
"Aha, what did you say?"
Alastor barley turned to look at them as he spoke. It was enough that Y/n caught the dials in his eyes, a sign he was truly and genuinely angry.
"Oh fuck." she mumbled under her breath as Husk began to back away.
"Nothing." he insisted, "I, um-"
Husk excuses were cut short as the all too familiar green chain and collar formed in the air around him. Alastor, his back still to Husk, tugged the chain. The cat demon fell to the floor, his eyes wide and wild with fear.
"If you ever say that again," Alastor threatened, his back still to Husk as he began to wrap his end of the chain around his microphone, pulling it taught, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams..."
There was a resistance in the chain. Alastor stopped speaking and turned around, his rage growing by the second. He opened his mouth to yell, he felt his demon form aching to come out. Everything stopped when he realized what was actually happening.
Alastor had assumed Husk had found something to hold on to, that he was fighting back. Alastor had been wrong. Instead, in the space between the two demons stood Y/n. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the green chain and was using all her weight to pull it back towards Husk. Alastor's mouth fell slightly open, his brow furrowed. He hadn't known someone not involved in a deal could touch the chains.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Y/n yelled, yanking the chain harshly towards her.
The movement caught Alastor off guard. He stumbled forward a few steps before catching his balance.
"Nothing is wrong with me, dearest." he cordially replied, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm simply reminding our favorite Husker where his place is in the world."
As Alastor spoke, he switched his menacing gaze back to Husk who was trembling on the floor behind Y/n.
"You're a dick!" Y/n exclaimed, trying to pull Alastor towards her again with the chain.
This time, he was ready for it and stood his ground as Y/n continued to speak.
"He was genuinely worried about you, you know? I didn't want to ask about this Mimzy shit, I wanted to watch you fucking fail for once but Husk? He was worried. He cared about you, and what do you do?"
Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Alastor watched in awe. This was the biggest reaction he'd gotten out of the girl in years. He had no idea how to react. It was oddly heartbreaking, oddly exhilarating.
"I just... god, I can't believe I ever trusted you."
The chain disappeared in Alastor's shock. Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment before she decided not to waste time and turned to Husk. Crouching down before him, she slowly helped her friend to his feet. Allowing him to balance on her, Y/n began to lead the still trembling Husk down the hallway back to the lobby.
Husk couldn't help but notice, Y/n's hands were far from still either. He looked over at her: brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, a tight frown on her lips. Husk opened his mouth to speak, to thank her, to ask if she was okay but before he could say a word, Alastor spoke again.
"Y/n, I'd like a word with you."
She stilled and so did Husk. This time, it was her turn to keep her back towards Alastor, rather than him keeping his to them. If she had learned anything from Alastor over the years, it was how power worked. Right now, she had the slightest bit of an upper hand unless he decided to use the chain of her own deal. Y/n wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
"Why?" she asked harshly after a moment.
Husk raised his eyebrows, reiterating the unspoken warning he'd ignored from her just a few moments before.
"Please."
Now that was unexpected. Y/n sighed, turning to Husk.
"You okay to go down on your own?"
"Yeah." Husk nodded, "Thank you."
"Anytime."
Y/n took his arm from her shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Husk would have been embarrassed, would have never accepted the help in the first place. This was Y/n, this was different. If anyone understood, she did.
"You gonna be okay, kid?" Husk asked in a hushed voice as she squared her shoulders, turning to face Alastor.
"Yeah." she hummed softly in return, "Always am, aren't I?"
Y/n took a handful of long, confident strides that landed her in front of Alastor once again. She stood tall and confident before him as he smiled menacingly down at her. Husk stood, watching them for a moment before Alastor looked over at him.
"Run along now, Husker." he playfully called to the reluctant cat demon, "I won't keep your soldier long."
Husk made no reply or move to leave until Y/n turned her head to the side, sending him a careful look over her shoulder.
"It's all good. I promise."
Husk nodded hesitently before at last turning around and heading back to the lobby. Y/n and Alastor watched one another carefully, niether saying a word until Husk was fully out of ear shot.
"What did you want to see me about?" Y/n asked coldly, crossing her arms, ready to be punished and not the least bit regretful of what she had done.
"I simply wanted to apologize." Alastor hummed, everything suddenly feeling a lot closer to normal.
Y/n's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"For what?" she asked after a moment, when it became clear Alastor would explain nothing without her prompting.
"That you had to witness that."
"I-" Y/n cut herself off with a sigh, shaking her head slightly, "Jesus fuck, Al."
"Language." he warned and Y/n just glared at him. He changed his tactic. "What ever is the matter, my dear?"
"You are just... why are you apologizing to me?" Y/n demanded, frustration seeping into her voice like sweet sticky honey that caught on everything, "Go apologize to Husk. As I already said, I was hoping this... Mimzy thing... would let me see you fail. He just wanted to help you, and look where that got him."
Alastor's perpetual smile softened slightly around it's edges.
"Why are you so set on watching me fail?" he asked after a a few tense seconds.
Y/n let out a rueful laugh, letting her arms fall from around her chest and settling her hands on her hips.
"Because gosh, wouldn't it just be lovely?" she grinned back at him.
"What?"
"If you got a taste of your own medicine." she taunted, "Caring about someone, trusting them with everything you have, only to have that very thing be the weapon they hold against you in the end."
Of course, it all came back to that. Alastor couldn't blame her.
"Y/n, I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me, but I really did not intend for things to turn out this way." Alastor sighed.
Seven years since he'd seen her and it only took them what, four/five months to come back to this conversation? A new record.
"It doesn't matter how you intended for them to be, it's how they are."
She spun on her heel, taking a few steps towards the lobby before coming to a stop once again.
"Sorry, I forgot." she spat, not turning to look at him, "May I go now, sir?"
"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "Of course. I have business to attend to."
"Great."
Alastor stood in the hallway, watching Y/n as she disappeared around the corner, watching the air she had occupied. He sighed, there was nothing to be done. There had been some small hope that somehow, someway, the hotel would hope. Clearly, he had been wrong. Alastor shook his head softly in the quiet peace of the hallway.
He wanted to give up on Y/n, he knew he should but still... he just couldn't. It was like a puzzle he was missing a piece of, a game he hadn't quite figured out how to win. A challenge. Alastor never backed down from one of those. He never had before and he certainly wasn't going to start now.
The strange jittery feeling of determination began to feed into his chest cavity through his veins. Doubt, anger, hurt, heartbreak -- all of it was being flushed out and replaced with sheer stubbornness. Alastor couldn't help but feel if he had Y/n, then everything would be okay. That she was the answer to his problems, that if she could love him then he would finally have won. What? Not even Alastor himself could say but that wasn't going to stop him. Nothing was.
----
Y/n sat down at the bar with a sigh as Husk quickly poured her a drink.
"Thank you." he awkwardly said as she downed the glass in one gulp, tapping the edge to ask for a refil.
"For what?" Y/n casually replied as he refilled her cup.
She picked it back up again, this time taking only a single small sip. She savored the second drink and Husk leaned forward on the bar.
"You know what." he rolled his eyes pointedly.
Thankfully Angel and Sir Pentions were keeping Mimzy entertained in the sitting room. None of the trio seemed to notice Husk and Y/n's return. Y/n swiveled her barstool around, leaning her back on the bar top as she watched them enjoy one another's company.
"Shit, Husk." she sighed, "You know me."
"I do." Husk nodded, straightening up and turning to place the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, "What I don't know is how you had the balls to pull something like that."
"I'm not afraid of him." Y/n shrugged, taking another little sip of her drink.
"Bullshit." Husk scoffed and Y/n turned back to him.
"I swear it, I'm not."
"How." Husk asked, eyeing her suspiciously, waiting for her to drop the act, "I felt you shaking earlier."
Y/n shook her head.
"Nah, that wasn't fear. I was just fucking pissed."
"He's the Radio Demon, he literally owns our souls, Y/n. How are you not scared of him."
Y/n's eyes fell onto the contents of her glass as she shrugged again, swirling the liquid around in the bottom of her glass.
"I..." she sighed, "I mean, you know this. I didn't know that's what was going on until..." she trailed off, clearing her throat, "We were friends, for a while actually."
"I know. I remember."
"I cared about him."
The truth hit Husk in the face like a speeding truck.
"Holy shit." he laughed in disbelief, "You like, cared cared about him, didn't you?"
Y/n's cheeks flushed the slightest bit pink. She met Husk's eyes once again.
"I think I was starting to."
"That's why your not scared of him. You loved him."
"Yeah." Y/n sighed after a moment, a sharp pain cutting through her chest like someone was cracking open her ribcage in a morgue, "I guess. Did being the operative word there of course, as in: not anymore. Not that he could ever love someone anyways even if I still did. Oh! Also, if he apologizes to you, tell me?"
"Wh..." Husk's brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in topic, "Why would he apologize to me, Y/n?"
"I maybe yelled at him."
"I... you're gonna get yourself killed one day."
Y/n laughed a bright, genuine laugh and Husk smiled over at her in return.
"Maybe." she smirked, leaning over the counter at him, "At least I'll have you to plan my funeral."
"Oh like I'd do that." Husk teased.
"Sure you would."
"Yeah. I'd have it at a gas station."
"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, "If you died, I'd throw yours at a casino or something. I'd expect the same kinda treatment on your end for me."
Husk shook his head softly, smiling. At the end of the day, he couldn't help feeling a little lucky for Alastor's deal. How else was he supposed to have met his best friend?
"Yep. Definitely gonna be at a gas station."
---
A/N I'm sorry Husk and the reader are besties and that's what this ended up being about. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.
Unrequited Pt. 3
#x reader#fic writer#x reader fics#hazbin hotel#request#x reader one shot#alastor#hazbin alastor#x reader writer#fanfic#requests open#requests#requested fic#requested#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor fanfiction#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#husk x reader platonic#husk x reader#x reader oneshot#request one shot
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Long Distance (LN4)
Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers
Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)
Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻♀️
Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite.
His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.
Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow.
No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other.
After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.
Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.
Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.
Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.
Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently.
He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.
After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this.
He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently.
After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.
“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’.
“Baby, I told you it was just a-”
“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”
“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”
“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”
“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”
She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.
“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.
There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t.
“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says.
“I guess so.”
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the one where chan "forgets" your birthday
☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️
genre: slight angst, slight fluff
pov: 2nd person
description: in which chan thinks he forgot your birthday...but you just never told him
pairing: boyfriend!chan x reader
warnings: swearing, mention of eating
word count: 1,169
©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
You slide your ID out of your wallet and hand it to the waiter. He skips over Chan for a second, ignoring the ID being held between his middle and pointer fingers. His elbow resting on the table, palm facing up practically begging the waiter to take his ID too. The waiter glances at him and finally takes the ID from him once he makes eye contact.
You fail to stifle a laugh at your boyfriend's misery. It's a thing that happens often now when you two go out. Almost every date the two of you go on where the occasion arises for the two of you to be carded, Chan normally doesn't. Especially when he's been working long. The only times you don't get carded and he does is during your very occasional trips to a club. But every week, without fail, the waiter will ask you for your ID and not him, much to his dismay.
Weekly dates, guaranteed time with Chan where you two go out and do some sort of couple thing. Not often do you two order drinks while out, but it's been a long week. Chan's been stuck at the company since your date last week and you were busy with work. The two of you hardly had time to text each other. How you two managed to find time to coordinate this week's date is beyond you.
You place your elbow on the table and rest your chin the the palm of your hand, watching Chan as the waiter double-checked your IDs. He looks better than he did last week. He looked beyond tired, his face paler than normal and the dark bags under his eyes more prominent than you're used to. It's why last week you two just spent a quiet night at your place, cuddling on the couch and watching movies until he fell asleep halfway through the second one. But he looks much more well-rested today. His face has a little more color to it. His black curly hair slightly framing his face. Finally healthy after years of dying and redying. He stares back at you with soft eyes and a smile wide enough to deepen his dimples. He quietly takes your free hand into his, squeezing slightly.
"Here you two are, I'll be right out with your drinks." The waiter hands both of your IDs back. You quickly let go of Chan's hand to take yours back and slip it back into your wallet.
"Thank you," Chan smiles as he puts his wallet back in his pocket.
"You're welcome. Feel free to take a bit longer to look at the menu." The waiter is just about to turn to leave before he suddenly stops and turns to you, "Oh, and happy birthday."
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and just plaster on a small smile. "Thank you,"
You watch as the waiter nods happily before walking off to tend to another table. You shake your head as you put your wallet away.
You don't notice at first, the way that all of the color in Chan's face leaves, turning him chalk-white. Or how his eyes quickly grow impossibly wide as his lips part in silent terror. You can't hear how fast the gears in his head are turning or how hard his head is banging in his chest. Not until you return your hand to his now limp and clammy hand.
"Chan?" Your furrow your eyebrows as you look up at your boyfriend, "What's wrong?"
"I...am so fucking sorry," He speaks with a suffocated whisper.
You tilt your head to the side and squeeze his hand to reassure him despite your now growing concern. "For what?"
His voice cracking and tight, "I forgot your birthday,"
"You--" You start.
"I'm so, so sorry--" Chan pulls out his phone and begins looking for something.
"Chan--" You try a little louder this time.
"--what kind of boyfriend--"
"Chris--" You try again.
"How did I forget it was your fucking birthday--"
"Christopher--" You place your hand on his, trying to get him to look at you.
"--I normally don't forget things like that--"
"Bahng Christopher Chahn," You nearly shout, finally getting his attention.
Chan stops and looks up, his eyes red and on the verge of tears. "I'm really, really sorry."
You look around the restaurant, taking in the atmosphere. The lights are dim creating a calming ambiance. The other patrons quietly talk amongst themselves. You can barely hear them over the soft classical music playing in the background. You and Chan are in a more secluded area covered by a plant to give you privacy from prying eyes.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about. You didn't forget my birthday," You say softly, stroking the back of his hand to calm him down, "I never told you when my birthday was."
"You...never told me? How is that...how did that even happen?"
Truth be told, it just never came up. You met after your birthday and started dating shortly after. With both of your busy schedules, it never really came up. You know Chan's birthday because of all the posts you see circulating on various social media sites by fans. His birthday is hard to miss, it's practically a national holiday.
"I don't really celebrate my birthday. It's...it's a long story. I'll tell you one day. But to me, it's just another day. You know I don't like that much attention on me anyway. I rather just let the day pass, without much of a fuss."
"That's understandable. It scared me though. I thought I forgot and I don't ever want to hurt you like that. You're really important to me. Everything about you is...even your birthday. But if you don't want to celebrate it, I won't push you." Chan takes both of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together.
"Thank you." You smile, "And I should have at least told you so you didn't have to panic like that. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay," He smiles, his dimples reappearing on his cheeks. "Want me to say something to the waiter so they don't do the whole dessert and singing thing?"
"If you don't mind." You sigh, relieved that you’re not going to have to ask Chan to do it for you later.
"I'll tell him when he gets back with our drinks." Chan presses his lips together into a fine line, “Can we at least go get ice cream or something later? I promise not to sing 'Happy Birthday' or anything. I just feel like you should still have something special today.”
You crack a smile, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s sudden sheepishness, “Yeah, we can go get ice cream.”
“Can’t I get you a gift? A small one?” He suggests.
“Chan,” You sigh, ready to argue back.
“Sorry,” He runs his hand through his hair. “I just feel bad still.”
“We’ll talk about it more later. For now, let’s just figure out what to eat.”
—
Buy me a coffee?
—
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Deleted Scene
An alternate ending of Thin Walls, Thin Lines.
Note: Basically the smut content no one asked for our fuckboy!bucky in 《 Thin Walls, Thin Lines 》. So read it first for context! (if you haven't already)
Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)
Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader
Words: 3.7k++
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, lil bit of angst, cunnilingus, finger fucking, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, squirting, cum eating, needy bucky, an absolute filth and i'm sorry for bucky's behaviour in this one, he is just a horny mf on a daily basis also I just want to warn you about the sinful things he might say in this.
P/S: I don't know what to say. I love the fluff ending from the original version, but this... this ending. Even if i feel like it's a messy writing. but pheww. You can just tell why I refused to choose and ended up doing both.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.
But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"
And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.
Would he? Take advantage of her?
Of course not. But will he lie just to tease her? Yes. He would. "Maybe. Only if you let me." He shrugged.
And that made her blooming feature fell into a gloom. As if she was having a chaotic crisis within the pretty little troubled head of hers. Y/N didn't want whatever he was suggesting. She wanted more than a brief fling; more than a casual situationship.
Because she loved him; truly. It wasn't just a passing passion, or an accidental chemistry.
Seeing the frown on her face and the panic spiralling in her eyes, Bucky chuckled as he knew she was taking his joke way too seriously, "Okay, how about I let you on with a little secret?" He suggested.
It perked her interest that Y/N simply nodded to his offer. Bucky smiled as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of her ears whispering a shocking confession.
She wasn't even high from any medication that Dr. Cho had prescribe to her but she couldn't believe what she heard. Her widen eyes questioned his smug smile hovering over her. Until she sneakily pulled the pillow next to her and threw it to his face.
Y/N kicked the blankets and changed into a sitting position, "Urghh you're such a dick, Bucky! I can't believe that I let you make fun of me!" She said with a biting tone.
"But, I'm not though?" Which only triggered her to smack him more with the pillow she was holding. Soon, the silent room were filled with the sound of her angry groans and Bucky's hearty laughter that cascade into a muffled chuckles.
The moment Y/N let her guard down, Bucky quickly stole the soft weapon from her and reclarified his confession, "I'm serious. I've been in love with you for awhile now." It's not she was blind; she saw no lies in his eyes and there was nothing but truth in the gentle of his voice.
She squinted her eyes into a glare and folded her arms across her chest, "Well, you have a rather funny way of showing it."
Bucky only smile to her snarky remarks, his hand finding hers to pull her closer, "I think I made it clear with the endless flirting that you have been blatantly rejecting, doll." He placed her perfectly on his lap, rubbing his big hands on her small back.
Y/N scoffed, "The only thing that was clear from that was how badly you wanted to get in my pants." Despite her objection, she let him pamper her body with his touch.
Bucky grinned, "And I do. But, only because I love you."
When she caught his gaze, she knew there was something magical about it; she have read so many books and poetry describing the look of his steel blues. A look that she can only dream of and not experience it; and if she was to make it come true, then this would be it.
Bucky moved slightly forward to nudge the tip of his nose on her own, hands intertwining with her shaky ones, silently asking for a permission to kiss her.
If she wasn't too focus on his presence on her skin, she would've noticed how the blood rushing to her cheeks were making her blushed in red. It felt good, it felt right.
Y/N gave her answer by leaning her forehead on his and he didn't waste any time to capture her lips, pressing an innocent kiss against it as his flesh hand gripped on hers while his metal hand find her cheek.
Soon enough the surrounding air heated and Bucky managed to slipped his tongue into her parted lips, his tongue wrapped around hers as her free hand reached back to gather his hair in her grasp. As they were blinded in sight by their closed eyes, they let sensory of their body ravel in each other's touch.
Out of instinct, her hand pulled from his back, then resting it on the prickly surface of his jaw before slightly pushing him away. Bucky took the cue and broke the kiss, "Babydoll." His hot breath blew against her cheek as he lean his lips on it.
Y/N realized what she had done; she let him kiss her, touch her but what does this mean? "I..I.." She hesitated.
"You're okay, y/n. Tell me to stop. Tell me to fuck off. It's okay, you can tell me anything." Bucky coaxed softly as he held her closer.
"I want this. I want you, Bucky. But... how can I trust you?" She really do. But, some part of her still reluctant to his history, "You've been sleeping around with those girls for months. Almost every night." Bucky cringed to his own behaviour. "How do I know it? That I'm not becoming one of them? That I'm not just some fucktoy you're gonna use and toss after?" She didn't care if she sound desperate. She needed him to be true because she know this won't work if he isn't willing to.
Bucky breath caught in the middle, as he knew that even the sweetest words won't satisfy her worry, so he only told the truth, "You have been the only one I wanted, y/n. And I know words aren't enough convice you. So let me show you, baby. Let me make love to you until you see how much I truly love you."
And he indeed fulfill his promise on that.
Bucky took his time undressing her until she was bare as the day she was born. He took longer time kissing her skin, loving each part of her perfect body and a much more lingering kisses around the bruises from today's mission.
Now that her pretty little cunt was right in front of him, exposed and bare, he wondered if this was all just a dream. Because it felt like it. No matter though; he'd devour her just the same whether she was just a creation of his dreams or his actual reality.
Bucky pressed several kisses on her clit, leaving the wet kissing noises filling the quiet room. He brought his tongue out slowly and started to lick her up; just to have a taste, "So pretty." he purred in between licking her fluids, teasing her. "So perfect." His fingers went to spread her lips apart and she made a strangled noise when she felt his long wet tongue, flattening through her folds, "Fuck." she cursed.
And after the first taste of her, Bucky realized how greedy he was getting especially when delved right back into her. "Bucky..." she whimpered his name as his warm lips wrapped around her clit, lewdly sucking on as if it was a tasty strawberry flavored sweet, just to release her moments after. He chuckled and slurred against her wetness, "Love the way you moan by name, sweetheart. Need to hear more."
His hands had moved from her waist to her hips in effort to pull her closer. If Y/N had anything to speak up in response then it was too late to say out loud because her head was swiftly wiped clean the moment his lips press into her clit again.
Bucky's grip on her thighs were almost harsh, just to keep her legs spread wide open for him to suckle on her clit, flicking his tongue over it deliciously. Looking down, she can only see the dark mess hair bobbing between her legs as he eats out her needy little cunt.
Y/N's mind was cloudy with ecstacy and pleasure crawling through her with each flick of his warm tongue between her folds. When it felt too good, she couldn't help but to catch his soft hair, holding on for her dear life as he devoured her cunt; noisy and messy.
"So fucking good, doll." He grunted into her weeping pussy, low and sensual as he pushed her legs further, allowing himself more access to her sweetness. "You taste so good."
Unbeknownst to her, Bucky was also enjoying every moment of this. Each time he moaned and groaned into her pussy, was the also time he thrusted his own needy cock against the mattress. The tip of was leaking with so much precum that it had left a wet stain behind.
With him getting that desperate, it felt like he was about to bust his nuts at any given time. But he wanted to wait; at least until Y/N gets her first high of the night. When his slick tongue deliciously fucking her pussy, exploring inside her, litters of curses of his name escaped from her lips as she moaned.
His wet tongue explored her insides as they clenched with lust and she choked out of air, not sure of how much longer she could take it because there was no way to deny it, she was about to cum, "Fuck,, Bucky. I'm cumming,,"
Bucky hummed into her when he pulled his tongue out, switching to rubbing on her clit, up and down, all the while was chasing his own orgasm, frantically humping on the bed like a rabid dog in heat.
Y/N gasped when he alternate between to sucking her clit and licking her up. Her back arched, pushing her cunt further into his hungry mouth in hopes to reach her release, "Please, please, don't stop.. need it, Bucky. Oh fuckkk"
Both of his hands; flesh and metal, slide up to grab her hips, helping her to grind on his tongue until her wetness came leaking out into his mouth, right on his tongue. Bucky came right along with her, grunting needily as the pink tip of his cock spurted out ribbons of his cream on in her mattress, marking his territory.
Bucky continued running his tongue up and down her wet slit throughout her orgasm, lapping away at her release that leaked out then gulping it down his throat as he watched her sighs with content.
When he pressed a soft kiss against her puffy, oversenstive clit, she thought it was end of it. But she couldn't be more wrong. The moment Y/N felt his metal finger trailed along her inner thighs, she knew that he wasn't satisfied with just eating her out.
She yelped when Bucky swiftly pulled her down, until her ass slides through the mess he made earlier, "What...?" Y/N herself didn't know what to ask but he knew exactly how to answer, "That's my cum, babydoll." He swiped some of the fluid from the sheets and smeared it on her throbbing cunt, making her instinctively moan.
Bucky smirked, "Eating your pretty pussy made me cum so hard, doll." With hunger in his gaze, he watched how his mess of a cum made her cunt glisten even more, "And because of that you deserve a reward, don't you think?" She whined as she nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, you do. You deserve to get your tight hole fucked by my metal fingers, don't you?" He continued to draw tight circles on her clit while his middle finger glides through her slit until he found her entrance, and pushed it in.
Y/N's head jerked up to the sudden intrusion. It was cold and reached much deeper than any of her fingers before. When Bucky twisted and curled the metal within her walls she cried out of pleasure. It was such new sensation and so fucking good.
A sudden entrance of another finger making her squeal from how sensitive her insides were to his metal fingers. And it made Bucky so full with pride to see her bending her back, her hips quivering, her walls tighten; all for him, "You can take it, sweetheart."
There was no such thing a pause when Bucky finger-fucked her hard; with his flesh hand pawing at her breast. He had his eyes locked on to the way her eyes roll back, panting breaths through those soft lips of hers, while his fingers drilled her tight pussy over and over and over, "That's it, that's fucking it baby. Such a good girl for me." He praised.
Endless moan were filling the room, along with the squelching sound of her wet cunt getting pounded mercilessly. Y/N lifted her hips higher; the feelings of Bucky's fingers inside her was different than her own. The stimulation and pleasure coming from his ways were distinct; like how the tip of his finger hits her unexplored g-spots or how his thumb pressed and twisted on her clit.
Bucky managed to pull the most sinful and desperate noises from her, "I-I’m going to cum,," she whimpered, hands balling into fists on the bed sheets as her hips followed his thrusts. "Yeah? Already, doll?" He taunted as he rolled her clit between his thumb and index finger.
Y/N nodded eagerly in between her moaning mess, before she let out high-pitched, satisfied whimper of his name as endless of fluid squirted out of her overstimulated pussy. "Oh fuck babydoll." He groaned as watched awe at her gushing cunt. "Did you just squirt? Hmm fuckkkkk, you should've done that when I have my mouth on you, baby. Shit."
Bucky scoot back to leaned his face right in between her legs. He darted his tongue out before he licked and suck the remaining fluid leaking out of her, making her squirm and whimper. And the slurping sound coming from him was such a sinful thing to hear, "Taste so good too. Gotta do that again next time, sweetheart. I wanna drink it all." he proposed.
"But now I need to be inside you." Bucky's declaration were cut short as his mouth captured hers in a heated kiss.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue as she kissed him back passionately, her body burning from all the pent-up frustration she had been pushing back for months. Bucky broke the kiss after a few mind-numbing minutes, before his hungry lips roamed around her neck, hands trailing over every part of her exposed skin as her heart rate spikes
"Need you, babydoll." Bucky groaned as he pumped his hard cock with his hand, spreading his dribbling pre-cum around his thick length. She whined as he gripped her legs, spreading them as wide as they'll go before rubbing the head of his cock against her slit.
He leaned again to kiss her one more time before sliding inside, slowly. "Oh god," Y/N moaned as she burned deliciously around him while he spreads her open.
Bucky's hands moved up find the crook in between her waist and hips, settling his veiny hands to the shape of her curves. His hips pounded into her, getting faster and harder with each thrust. As Y/N began to wrap her legs around his waist, he grabbed them and pulling he flused against his hips before he continued drilled his cock into her pussy.
The sensation was a combination of pain and pleasure and she feel as though she's in heaven. "Faster," she cried out.
"Look at you. You're so wet for me, doll. Feels so good around me--" Bucky's voice breaks into a groan as his hips meet hers, "--It's like your pussy was made for me. Gotta let me have you everyday now that you're mine, right sweetheart?"
"Mmmmhnn" she moaned; things took a turn when she clutched around him harder, it was abnormally tight as if it was trying to milk him right there and then. Bucky couldn't help but to groan in pleasure to the new sensation, "F-fuck" he cursed.
It took his less than a minute to figure out the reason why. Bucky smirked sinfully, "You like it when I talk dirty to you?" he slurred. Y/N's eyes were getting teary from all the pleasure she was feeling, from the stuffing feelings in her chest to the sensation of his hard cock thrusting in and out of her cunt.
"i- ahh I-i don't hhmmnn shit i don't know." she tried to deny him.
Bucky stopped his pace, pulled back slowly, "Really?" and slammed it back in hard, "Are you sure, princess?" He almost knocked her out of her breath.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure that my pretty girl loves it when I claim her as mine while I'm fucking her tight little pussy. Does she?" Bucky's kept on slow and hard torturous thrust, it was certainly slow but oh it felt so good; especially when he was doting at Y/N like this.
Was she really a sinner? Because this felt way too good to be in hell.
"Can't speak? Come on, my sweetheart. Speak up, let me hear ya." He demanded. Bucking her hips, wanting for more, "Y-yes, Bucky. I love i-it"
Bucky groan as her walls clenched him so good. Fuck, how many times has he thought of this? Dreamt of this? Probably, countless.
"You know why I keep changing girls, doll?" He sneaks his hands between their bodies and started to rub her clit. Her body shivered to the sensation, shaking her head to the sides as answer. "Yeah,, I bet you have no idea why do you?" He taunted.
Bucky let out a satisfied moan before his thrusts started going back to it's original pace. All whilst his cock pumped into her, gradually growing more fervent, her soaking pussy welcoming him in easily. Her whines mixed with Bucky's as she grabbed on the sheets behind her.
"Because I've been moaning your name in their ears, y/n. Everytime I stroke on my cock in anything, I have you in my mind. And when I cum, I imagine your pussy milking me dry. Just like you're doing now. Fuckkk,, doll, just like that."
Bucky's eyes that was fixated on her fucked out face since awhile ago, traveled down to where they were connected. Looking at how her little pussy shallowed his dick so well make him hornier.
Y/N slightly bounced upwards, his blues eyes tended back to her breasts. He used extra strength to see how her small body shook uncontrollably every time his hips met with hers, and to see those beautiful tits bouncing around.
"Bet you have no clue how much I want fuck my baby in you, doll. Or imagining the way your wedding ring glides on the side of my cock when you stroke me in your hand."
Bucky angled her body again by throwing her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward. This new angle made her eyes roll back. "Oh fuckk-- ahhh bucky,," she managed to say between his thrusts. Her entire body shaking from the tension building in her body as Bucky fucks her hard and fast, "I love you, y/n. I love you so. damn. much. I want to live the rest of my life in this cunt." He punctuated his words with hitting her sweet spot each time.
Bucky briefly threw his head back to hold back his orgasm before his hazy gaze landed on her, "Fuck doll, you look so pretty with my cock in you baby, so pretty. And we're so wet now. Hear that? Yeah, that's the sound of your tight little cunt getting wrecked by my cock. You fit me so perfectly. We're perfect." His thoughts were spilling out just as much as his precum leaking inside her.
There were tears in her eyes now, not only her walls but her whole body were stretching under him. It burned and it felt so damn good.
"Need you to cum, baby" Bucky spoke lowly, "I can feel ya, come on doll. Cum for me." He growled while continuing to pound her pussy.
And that would be the final straw for her. "fuck, yes, yes!" her voice hitched as her thighs begin to tremble around him. "...cumming. fuck, bucky i'm cumming." loud and sensual moans falling from her lips without much of an effort. Screaming out his name in pure bliss as her orgasm snapped through her high.
"That's it baby. Squeeze me so good." Bucky coaxed ever-so-tenderly, as her cum leaked around his cock and her pussy continued to milk him; begging and needing to feel his cum inside her.
"Hmm. I'm cumming, doll. Fuck,, oh fucking hell,, you're so good. Making me wanna cum, sweetheart. Where do you want it? Tell me. Where do you want my cum?" Bucky nearly whimpered as he felt his heavy balls were about to combust.
"Inside. Cum inside me," she moaned breathlessly.
Bucky almost growled to her response, "Good. fucking. girl. That's the only choice, baby. I'm gonna cum in you eitherway. Fuck fuck fuck,, I'm cumming shit take it, babydoll take it yeaahhh"
Leaning into her neck in a loud long moan, she felt Bucky's cock ached as he spilled himself inside her. His huge amount cream kept spurting endlessly, so much that it leaked out of her hole. Bucky whined as he continue to roll his hips, unable to stop humping into her stretched out, cum-filled cunt.
As he come down from the high, Bucky tried to pull out but only to be stopped by her circling her legs around him. He chuckled at her needy behaviour; as he found it quite adorable, "Want me to stay, baby?" he whispered softly and got a drunken nod as answer.
Bucky carefully flipped their position without leaving the tightness of her pussy, lying her limping body on his own. "Hmmmm" she hummed sleepily as she snuggled into his chest, eyes heavy with satisfaction.
"Yeah? Need my cock to fill you up for you to sleep well, hmm babydoll?" He cooed as he grind her hips downward, thrusting his cock into her slow and gentle. Y/N whined and mumbled, "Yes, please."
Bucky smiled tenderly, "Okay sweetheart. I'll keep you stuffed as long as you need me to. Now, I need you to go to sleep, okay?" He said, getting simple "okay" from the lady in his arms. Bucky placed a kiss on her head, as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as both of them got more and more drowsy as time goes by.
And at the end of this night, it was safe to say that this had been the best and longest sleep they both had since forever.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Leave some thoughts behind? The sinful the better 🙈
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#avenger!bucky#fuckboy!bucky#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#thin walls thin lines au
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Imagine Toji breeding his Wifey cuz she wanted a Baby and weeks later, she found herself pregnant with Baby Gumi
I like to think Reader as Mamaguro if you don't mind
I won't lie most of the time I prefer for reader to be mamaguro bdjsjd you literally are asking me to write out my fantasy with that man lmaoo so thank you!! but I will say that using her for a drama or angst is a lot of fun as well!
tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + modern au + explicit smut + breeding kink + ass slapping + blowjob that turns into 69+ he's in love with you
Toji watches you.
You could be doing the most mundane things, and his eyes were following you. That's how he found out you wanted a baby.
It was obvious.
Anytime the two of you passed by a pregnant woman, you'd look at her belly then him. "We'd have a cute baby." You murmured kissing him.
Or in the store when you'd pass by the racks of newborn clothes in all sorts of designs and patterns cooing at the onesies. "Look, baby!"
Even though you weren't pregnant, you still stopped to look before moving on to get what was actually needed. On the way home, you babbled about him getting you pregnant.
Toji found himself thinking about you round and swollen with his baby.
It was an image that plagued his mind.
He loves you more than anything, and he knew you wanted a baby, so why would he deny you?
The more you two kept seeing families around, it seemed the women were always pregnant while the dad was pushing a stroller with a toddler in the seat cooing and babbling about something.
When you got home from work later that week, you collapsed on the bed tired and exhausted where Toji was lounging after his own long day. "Let's order dinner tonight, baby, I'm not really in the mood to cook anything." You groaned softly when you rolled over to your side.
Toji pulled his arm out from under his head to open it up and let you nuzzle into his side, your face buried in his chest. "I already got it in. I got your favorite." He grumbled, his voice thick with unshed emotion.
You knew he wasn't one to talk about his feelings so more times than not you had to push a little bit to get him to open up. "You're so sweet, I love you." You murmured softly looking at him warmly.
Your thumb traced his scar as you smiled and cocked your head a little to the side. "What are you thinking about?" You prompted.
He rubbed at his jaw and leaned in to kiss you deeply, his lips molded against yours perfectly. "Putting a baby in you." He replied gruffly.
"Oh...oh...a baby?" You asked sitting up more as you tucked your legs under you as you gripped his shirt feeling excitement bubble through your veins as you bounced up and down grinning wildly.
Toji couldn't help but smile and shake his head as you leaned down to kiss him this time. "As of now you are my little crybaby, but been think' about you pregnant and walkin' around the house naked."
Your eyes widened and your pussy grew its own heartbeat at his words. "Ah-Toji!-really? Are you sure?" You asked feeling his palms slide under your shirt to trace patterns along your back.
He nodded and watched you crawl off the bed to tear your clothes off until you were bare at the side of the mattress as you dropped down on your hands smiling slyly at your husband who spread his legs.
A smile tugged his lips back as he watched you hook your fingers under the band of his boxers looking at him with your own smirk while you pulled the fabric down so you could kiss his belly.
Your lips trailed around his pelvic bone listening to him suck in a breath as you ran your fingertips over the head that was sticky with pre-cum. "I'm sure, now why don't you sit down on my cock."
His voice was thick was desire and want as his hands roamed over your skin pulling to create a pull of pleasure that made your skin simmer with need. "But why can't I just suck you off first?"
Toji didn't say anything but spread his legs wider to let you lay between them, your fingers wrapped around his shaft once you got comfortable, and jerked him off slowly from base to tip teasingly.
Leaning in you inhaled his musk and kissed the sticky slit dipping your tongue in the hole before wrapping your lips around him. "Just like that, look so good 'f me with my cock in your mouth like that."
His words went straight to your pulsing core as you dropped down more taking the rest of what you could fit in the back of your throat, your cheeks swollen and lips bulging trying to fit him inside.
It didn't take long before Toji manhandled you to sit on his face, your thighs squeezing his head as his hands gripped your ass spreading it open making it easier for him to slurp at your wet pussy.
Your back arched when his tongue swirled over your clit before he sucked on it with precision, your husband knew the art of seducing you and how to get you right where he wanted.
The sounds of you both pleasuring each other sounded out, your gagging and sputtering filled his ears as did the blood that rushed drowning everything out as he buried his face in your cunt now.
He didn't miss any inch of your pussy that drooled, spit, and your slick pooled and dribbled out of the corners of his mouth as his hands made sure to grope and grip each patch of bare skin he could touch as you bobbed up and down the length of his cock.
"Don't want to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, why don't you sit my pussy down on me, mhm?" Toji asked cracking his open hand on your ass loving how you moaned around him as you ground your hips.
You giggled with spit bubbles when you pulled off him completely cock drunk as you scrambled off to straddle his hips again letting the tip of his dick press against you as he helped you sit up more.
Toji's palms melted like butter in a hot man against your bare chest when you slipped your shirt off as he rubbed the bulbous head against your fluttering hole, the both of you holding a breath.
Slowly he pushed in letting you get used to the stretch, it always was to take him, no matter the amount of prepping you were sure to gasp and cry out his name. "Toji! Fuck! You're so big!" You moaned throwing your head back when he bottomed out.
The both of you let out unbridled moans from the bliss that shot up your spine, leaning down you kissed him grinding your hips back and forth catching your clit on his pelvic bone as you slid your fingers into his hair curling into the soft locks as the kiss was deepened.
He grunted in your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours feeling your pussy flutter and try to milk him, the tip kissed your cervix almost when he rested his feet flat on the bed fucking up into you.
His hands stayed on your back before they drifted down to your ass squeezing the fat of both cheeks then he took turns slapping each one as you began to bounce up and down moaning his name.
Toji wanted to video-record you.
Seeing you so obsessed with him, your fingers tracing his chest as you fucked him back, your head titled back with loud pornographic moans pouring from your mouth as he circled your clit with his thumb, you looked so good on top of him, fucking him like you want.
The hand that wasn't between where you two connected palmed your tit then pinched your nipple hearing you whine and feeling your cunt squeeze him like a vice now. "Cum inside me! Give me a baby!"
He also enjoyed hearing you beg him for something so lewd, the way you tried to trigger his orgasm when yours hit you like a ton of bricks, your hips stuttered on top of him as you squealed and gasped.
His hands wouldn't stay off your ass as he helped you bounce up and down his cock like a toy almost, at this point his head was full with one thing, and hearing the wet squelching had his sack tightening.
Then you felt it.
Toji's cock throbbed with its own heartbeat each time with each string of cum that filled you so hot and thick as his mouth latched onto your neck sucking on the pulse point while holding you tightly to him as he made sure he emptied himself inside you.
"You're going to make such a good mom." He whispered letting his hand fall down to your belly rubbing small circles where your future children will grow.
That night seemed to play like a movie in your head ever since it happened and that was weeks ago, but somehow you can't stop thinking about it no matter how hard you tried.
Then came the missed period and sore boobs, your grumpiness was something that Toji caught onto quickly, and the fact that you wouldn't let him slap your ass whenever he walked by.
"Are you pregnant?" He asked leaning against the bathroom doorframe as you brushed your teeth. Four weeks later after that night, it all came to light when a roll of sickness washed over you.
Morning sickness was next.
You sighed and put your toothbrush up before reaching into the cabinet for a pregnancy test that you kept on hand just in case.
His eyes followed your form as you read the instructions and let him stay in the bathroom as you took the test and washed your hands. The both of you stared down at the white plastic stick waiting.
Toji snaked his arms around your waist resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him, the silence suffocating as the seconds ticked by only for two lines to show up. "Are you pregnant?"
"Yes! Two lines mean positive!" You squealed turning around in his arms as you jumped up letting him catch you making it easier for you to pepper his face in wet kisses as tears poured down your cheeks.
He held you tighter to him feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest along with a mixture of excitement and fear of the idea of becoming a father but with you by his side, he knows he'll make it just fine.
#💌incoming#tw: breeding#tw: pregnancy#jjk smut#toji x reader smut#toji x reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x pregnant reader
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The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader
A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words
"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.
"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.
You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.
"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."
"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"
"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"
"AND WERE NOT?"
It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.
You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.
On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.
Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.
You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.
Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.
Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.
Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.
"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.
"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.
Emily sighed.
"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.
"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.
"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.
Kim winced.
You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..
Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.
"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.
Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.
A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.
"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.
Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.
You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.
He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.
"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.
Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.
Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.
"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"
"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.
"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.
"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.
Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.
"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"
You yanked your arm from his grasp.
"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.
Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.
Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.
"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.
This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.
"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.
You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.
But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.
That couldn't be good.
"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.
You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.
Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.
"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.
You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.
"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.
"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.
Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.
Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.
"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.
Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.
"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."
After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.
"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.
"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."
"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."
Paul just nodded, praying he was right.
~
Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.
"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.
"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.
Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.
"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."
"I need to talk to him."
It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.
"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.
Paul remained where he stood,
"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"
"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.
He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.
You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.
"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."
He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.
"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.
You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.
You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.
Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.
When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.
#paul lahote#sam uley#twilight#bella swan#edward cullen#embry call#imagine#jacob black#new moon#quil ateara#fanfic#fanfiction#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote x you#emily young#jared cameron#wolfpack#eclipse#breaking dawn#charlie swan#vampire
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Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series
Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.
Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k
A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-&-
It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes.
Just you and Wanda.
Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.
They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out.
It was an invitation.
You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.
The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra, came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.
With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.
“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”
You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little.
“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.
You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.
“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”
He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly.
You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.
He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.
“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.
You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.
“The Countess asks to meet in person.”
You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”
The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.
“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”
“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”
But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far.
“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”
The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.
“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”
But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.
“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder. “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”
Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.
“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”
But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”
You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.
He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.
“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”
But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.
The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.
You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.
The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery. But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan.
And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.
Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.
This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.
The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.
You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.
The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.
You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.
It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.
Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.
-&-
“Wake up.”
It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.
Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.
Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.
"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."
A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."
A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"
"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve.
She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."
You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.
When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.
"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."
Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine.
"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.
"That was the only trace I had-"
"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"
Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.
"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"
"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely.
Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."
These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.
Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second.
With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.
"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.
But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.
"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.
Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.
"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."
Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"
She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."
"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed.
It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off.
It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.
"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."
She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.
"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."
You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.
She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.
Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.
"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.
Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.
Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming.
Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.
She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.
One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.
You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."
She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.
You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.
-&-
It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.
And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time.
While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.
"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late.
You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you."
You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."
Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink.
"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.
Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.
When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.
"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"
"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."
Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."
You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.
"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.
"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."
The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.
The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"
"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."
The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."
"You underestimate me."
"I didn't mean it like that."
But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.
"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."
You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"
The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.
"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."
Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head.
"We stay together-"
"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."
The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her.
"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."
Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."
"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.
You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"
Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."
Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.
"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"
-&-
In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.
The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."
You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."
She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.
"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.
"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment.
Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."
"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.
"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."
You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"
Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."
"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"
She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."
You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"
"Oh, it's about time."
With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."
She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."
But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."
"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"
You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."
But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.
"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."
It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.
"I'm not a black widow."
Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."
"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside.
"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"
"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."
Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it."
You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."
Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"
But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."
"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."
Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."
You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"
"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."
You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.
"I'm pregnant."
Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.
"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."
But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry.
"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."
But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"
You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."
But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."
Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.
"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."
Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.
"Ten years, little bird."
You frown in confusion. "What?"
"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."
"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.
Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."
You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.
Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.
"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made.
Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.
"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."
You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."
She smiles, ending the distance again.
You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand.
"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."
She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"
Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers.
But that's another story.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#heart shaped series#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff imagines
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