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fadingdaggerr · 5 months

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tease and unease

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: (based on following req that was sent w/o anon so they asked for it to be) “I did have a request if you're into it! Reader and melissa have been in a relationship secretly for a while. They have a fight about keeping it a secret right before PECSA weekend (mel wants to keep it a secret and reader does not). So the weekend is filled with mini fights and glaring and lots of drinks to nimb the hurt. Lol Reader gets drunk and dedicates then plays their song on piano in the lobby of the convention center - outing them. A little angsty but with a happy ending? Feel free to change anything you're not feeling and thank you!!”

warnings: very dialogue heavy oops, insecurity, verbal fighting, petty r bc i’m petty, heavy-ish? alcohol consumption, drunk!r

note: just realized that with all my fics i’ve somehow avoided using any pronouns or actually name for r. feel like i’m doing full fledged gymnastics

There is barely a second to answer the question Barbara asked you about a new show you’d started before the lounge door flies open and Janine is excitedly doing little laps around the room chanting ‘PECSA’ as she goes. Even though this is her third time going to the convention, she had been extremely excited. Whether that was because of this year’s presentations or due to last year’s event in the botanical classroom, you can’t tell. Janine’s zoomies end as she catches herself against Jacob’s chair to catch her breath.

“Please- oh my God- please tell me y’all are coming this year?” Janine asks as she’s still breathless from excitement and running a marathon between wobbly tables.

“Considering it’s mandatory,” Melissa says with annoyance in her tone, immediately your foot kicks hers as a silent ‘be nice.’

Janine’s excitement doesn’t falter once, “did you see that they have a whole presentation on which color whiteboard markers are the best for teaching each subject?” Barbara turns at the same time as you, both of you looking at each other with exasperation and a little disbelief on both ends. Melissa is desperately trying not to laugh, her hand under the table gripping your knee with a vice to not burst into a cackle right at her fellow second grade teacher.

The second she got control of her laughter, the hand on your leg was gone like it was burned by your skin through your jeans. When you try to pull her hand back for just an extra second of her touch, her hand shakes yours off as her body leans away entirely.

There is some annoyance that lingers in your chest from this interaction, and it only grows more as you take the long way to Melissa’s house from school because she insists that no one can even see you going in the same direction. Six months of this, driving six extra blocks and not even being able to give unseen affection, and she hasn’t even deemed it a good time to tell Barbara, her best friend. She had just barely allowed you to tell your friends, who didn’t even know the Abbott crew, and still won’t allow even one picture to even have her elbow in it.

As you pull into the driveway, you take a few deep breaths to try to ease this tension that you wish hadn’t begun to fester. Walking in the front door, it was easy to forget all of it when Melissa came down the stairs, nearly slipping in her fluffy socks as she hurried to pull you into a greeting kiss. Her hands hold your face as she peppers your cheeks in kisses, speaking between smacks of her lips against your skin, “you took your sweet time coming inside.”

“Sorry,” you barely get out, reeling your head back to stop the assault from her lips and wrapping your arms around and holding her, “missed you today.”

She laughs from the crook of your neck, “we had prep and lunch together.”

“Eight hours in the same building and I only get you for an hour? That’s not even close to enough,” you say, pulling back to finally take off your shoes. Nothing is quite like the sight of a flustered Melissa Schemmenti, your comment making her cheeks light up the prettiest shade of pink, your second favorite color after the green of her eyes.

As you stood in the shower, hot water practically cooking your skin, the topic of today’s lunch conversation rolled around your mind. PECSA has always been held at a large hotel with so many rooms and several pool spots, maybe this would finally be a social setting where Melissa wasn’t so guarded and actually allowed herself to enjoy time with you that wasn’t solely in the hotel room. Shit, the hotel room, you meant to call and reserve a room two days ago but were stuck grading book reports into the early morning.

“Baby!” you shout as you step onto the bathmat, wrapping a towel around you as you listen for approaching footsteps. When there is none, your voice turns whiny, “Melissaaaa!”

There’s a huff outside the door before it opens, “Jesus, amore, let me get up the stairs. What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me you called the hotel about our room,” you say as you pull her old college t-shirt over your frame, the tattered sleeves soft against the skin of your shoulder, “I meant to call the other night.”

Melissa’s eyes are soft at the view of you in her shirt, a smile playing at her lips before she answers, “yeah. I called ‘em and got the rooms all set, no worries.” Her lips press against your cheek before she walks out the room to head into the bedroom.

A sense of relief fills you, a deep breath leaving your lungs. As you settle into bed, your arm wraps around Melissa’s waist, a kiss as a silent goodnight is pressed to her shoulder, getting the typical hum in response. As you begin to drift off, nudging into the redhead’s back a little, a thought enters your mind. Rooms?

“Wait, ‘rooms’ plural?” you say against her back, but your only response is her light snoring.

—

“Mel baby, we gotta go! We have to check into the hotel at noon!” you call up the stairs as you spin your suitcase around lazily.

“Just leave without me, hon, I’ll meet you there,” she answers from her bedroom.

You frown, “the hell do you mean? I thought we were driving there together, it makes sense.”

“We don’t need anyone seeing anything, you can just get there ahead of me,” you’re a little too shocked at her words to respond before she adds, “oh, and when you get there can you get my keycard for my room?”

Your back stiffens, as does the hand holding your suitcase. Without thinking, you let go of the case and start up the stairs, stopping in the doorway to the bedroom, her back facing away from you as she packs the rest of her hair products, “your room?”

Melissa jumps a little when she hears your voice, smiling as she recovers, “well yeah, amore. Can’t be sharing a room without everyone piecing it together, now can we?”

“Oh, of course, how dare I think anyone can see us within a hundred feet of each other,” your attitude and facial expression make the redhead frown, her arms immediately crossing.

“Don’t be like that, you know that’s not what I meant,” she steps closer, but not much. This conversation has happened only a few times in the last six months. Melissa is a very private person, one that didn’t want anyone in her business, she’d only just let her family meet you a month ago.

You take a step forward, “we can’t drive in together because no one can see us together. We can’t share a room because no one can see us together. I can’t sit next to you at work because no one can see us together. I can’t even drive here the normal way because no one can see us together.” There has never been an instance where you told her she had to shout it from the rooftops, all you wanted was to be close to her. She didn’t even let you two be seen as actual friends, just as tolerated by her, and it was all starting to dig away at you. You stepforward more as you spoke, “so, enlighten me, what do you mean?”

There’s a shift in her posture and face, everything hardens and she becomes more serious. She thinks this tough-Schemmenti-look works on you, but after watching her cry at pet commercials, you can’t be fooled. Despite the confident anger she was showing, there was no response. Without waiting, you turn around and walk down the stairs, leaving with your suitcase in your own car.

The lobby is packed tight, a bunch of underpaid sardines filling every inch of the place, yet it felt incredibly lonely. The front desk gave you your keycard, you didn’t bother with getting Melissa’s, your only goal was to get to your room and lay in the bed until the presentations started tomorrow. You were not going to a whiteboard marker presentation.

However, you did promise Ava you’d go to her presentation on “Being That Girl and That Principal,” so hiding won’t be an option for the next morning. You register that Melissa and Barbara are both in the room as well, but you hope a certain someone doesn’t notice among the crowd that had collected.

Not even ten minutes into the presentation, a warm body is next to you, red hair and perfect eyeliner. You take a deep breath in and sidestep to the left, trying to make space between you, but she closes it again. She turns to look at you, and you pointedly keep your eyes on Ava’s presentation, which is just perfectly lit photos of her around Abbott, which until now you didn’t notice that she had photoshopped out the water damage on the ceiling.

“Are you going to ignore me all weekend?” Melissa mumbles.

You shrug, “I’m surprised standing next to me is even allowed, I thought we couldn’t even be seen near each other.”

“Stop being childish.”

“Don’t think I will,” you reply, turning to walk to the other side of the room.

—

Math-a-ritas, Daiquireads, Sex Ed on the Beach, was it so hard to get a normal ass drink around here? It already took you three tries to get a normal rum and coke before the prepubescent-looking bartender got the damn thing right, but one they did, it honestly isn’t all that bad. What was starting to get bad, however, was the tension between you and Melissa. Being part of her typical group, Barbara insists on the two of you walking around with her, chatting with vendors and teachers from every school, except Addington.

Upon seeing Melissa’s hands white knuckling a glass of wine, Barbara sends a questioning look, only getting a shake of the head in response. She turns to you, almost ready to ask if you can talk to Melissa, but you’re equally sour looking.

Both women watch you down your second drink before getting up, “I’ll be back in a few, just getting another drink.”

“Do you really think you need more?” your girlfriend pipes up.

“Melissa…” Barbara warns, having been stuck in the tension between you two. She’d thought her friend was soft on you, but it was starting to look differently.

You don’t even give her the decency to look at her as you say, “I really, truly do, Schemmenti.”

You don’t return like you said you would, and green eyes are scanning the hall to find your frame. When she catches sight of you, she sees another drink downed and she grimaces. Melissa’s anger starts to fade when she sees you waver a little as you walk-and-talk with Jacob, who finally was attending PECSA-geddon this year. You turn and look in her direction, and she frowns at the instant look of minor resentment crosses your face before you stumble again. Melissa stands and starts over in your direction, ignoring Barb’s gaze.

The redhead reaches you, a hand on your elbow, “hon, you should sit down.”

“Why do you care?” you snap back, pulling your arm away. Jacob’s eyes widen, and Melissa motions to tell him to leave, to which he is quick to listen and goes to Barbara.

“You’re falling over, amore, please sit down,” she pleads through gritted teeth.

You huff and step further back, “stop it, Melissa, someone’s gonna think we know each other.” She wasn’t accustomed to you being so abrasive, even in arguments, usually you were calm and direct, something she could easily mirror when she got too in her own head. Now, you are just drunk, angry, and wanting nothing to do with her, something she never expected to see.

Melissa is growing even more pissed as she watches you finish your fifth drink, your head shaking in that cute way it does when your drink is too strong. You catch her stare, which becomes more of a glare when your eyes meet hers, and you frown. Somewhere between your first and last sip of your fifth drink, you’d gone from angry to sad drunk, and Melissa's disapproving looks were making your eyes burn.

On the third sip of your sixth drink, the realization that a DJ was at the party made you jump excitedly. You stumble through the line, using your conversation partner to keep you upright, you wait to make a request.

“What do you want?” the DJ says without a single ounce of enthusiasm.

You smile anyways, “please, please play this song. It’s one of my girlfriend’s favorites, I don’t know if I’d call it ‘our song,’ but when I hear it I think of her and her pretty eyes and face and hair and hands an-”

“Dude, what is the song?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s Bette Davis Eyes, Kim Carnes,” you laugh out, almost teetering over.

“It’ll play after Kendrick,” the DJ says dismissively, motioning for the next person in line to move forward.

—

There’s a slump in your mood as music fills the room. Where everyone is dancing and laughing, you’re gnawing on your thumbnail as the drinks catch up to you, making you more anxious than carefree. Part of you wants to just disappear to your room, the other part doesn’t remember where that is exactly. A secret third part wishes you got Melissa’s keycard for her so you’d know where she was staying tonight, though you were a tiny bit sure your rooms had to be near each other.

You just barely register the beginning of a rap song as you start to wander the room in hopes of finding someone familiar, just yearning to be with your Abbott people. You’re gripping chairs as you walk around, speeding up as you register Ava’s high ponytail back near the DJ booth. You barely catch her arm, anchoring yourself to the principal.

“Weebles-wobbles, you’re definitely falling down! You better drink some water before your liver gets revenge,” Ava half-jokes as she pushes her cup towards you, “what made you decide to let loose?”

You gulp down the whole water and sigh, “I can’t just have fun?”

“You look downright sad,” she answers with a laugh as you pout. The Kendrick song fades out, and 80s guitar starts to play, immediately making you freeze. You turn slowly towards the DJ with big, scared eyes, you forgot that you’d requested he play this.

The horror only continues when you see him point to you and say, “this song is dedicated to this one’s girlfriend.” If someone decides to sporadically drive through the window and crush you, you thank them right now.

“Girlfriend?” Ava asks from next to you, “you got a girlfriend and you haven’t said shit?”

“Not now, Ava. I think I have to leave.”

“The party?”

“The country,” you answer before ducking your head and walking as Kim Carnes voice plays in the speakers.

Her hair is Harlow gold / Her lips, a sweet surprise / Her hands are never cold / She's got Bette Davis eyes

In your perspective, you’re almost running towards the door, but Melissa sees the stagger in your steps get worse. She doesn’t think about it before she starts weaving through party attendees to get to you faster, no longer caring about her own arbitrary rules. Someone dares step in her way, and they’re pushed roughly, the lyrics of your song were making her work harder to get to you.

She'll turn the music on you / You won't have to think twice / She's pure as New York snow / She got Bette Davis eyes

When the redhead finally reaches you, she’s quick to pull you out of the view of everyone else, and for once it wasn’t for her personal benefit. As she stops moving, she keeps a hand on your arm while you steady yourself. When you turn and look at her, there’s no anger for once, just embarrassment.

She can’t even get a word in before you’re rambling, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t tell him to dedicate it to you, I just wanted to listen to it and I mentioned that it made me think of you- not like you but you. I’m sorry, please don’t hate me, I didn’t want to ups-”

Arms wrap tightly around your neck, tugging you into her embrace. Your own arms flail for a moment before they wrap around her waist, hands gripping the material of her dress. A hand rubs your back, helping you control your breathing, “I’m not mad at you and I don’t hate you.”

“You’re mad, you just feel bad for me right now,” you murmur into her skin, “you should get back before someone notices.”

Melissa only sighs, loosening her hold on you to pull you in the direction of the elevator. You’re vaguely mumbling about her being fine letting you go, but she stays connected to you. She’s acutely aware that you have no idea where your room is, but it’s next to hers, that much she knows. Melissa leans you against the wall, digging in your pockets for your keycard since she left her purse with Barbara at the party.

“Are you trying to feel me up or rob me?” you joke, or at least she thinks you’re joking since she can barely tell through the slurred laugh you let out. Melissa just smiles lightly before opening your door and shoving you in. She tries to guide you towards the bed, but you stick to her side as if you’re sewn to her.

When she finally gets you all situated, she looks at you to see tears welling in your eyes as you scan her face. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, “what’s wrong, amore?”

You exhale, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, I’m gonna stay right here,” she says softly, thumb caressing your warm cheek.

“No, no. I don’t want you to leave,” you whine, gripping the sleeve of her dress.

She understands what you mean now, and it makes her heart fall in her chest a little. Pulling away, she assures you she isn’t leaving to placate you before going through your suitcase for an extra shirt to wear to bed, knowing that she wasn’t going to leave even if you changed your mind and told her to. It takes about eighty times as long to get you into your own sleep shirt and shorts, but once you’re comfortable, the tears in your eyes fade away.

Melissa tucks herself in behind you, arm wrapping tightly around your middle, though you wiggle and worm around until you’re facing her. A hand comes up and pushes loose hairs away from her face, the look in your eye so soft that she was almost convinced you’d forgotten everything you’d been arguing about.

“Why don’t you wanna tell Barb, or just anyone?” There’s a shyness in your tone as you play with the chains of her necklaces, “I know you wanna be private, but I don’t like being a secret.”

“You’re not a secret, I just like having you to myself,” she tries to appease you, wanting to have this conversation when you’re both sober.

There’s a look she can’t read on your face before you say, “you already have that and so do I, but sometimes I want to show you off. You’re too pretty not to.”

A wry grin crosses her face at your words, the very fragile filter you had was demolished by the rum and cokes. The hand that previously had been occupied by her necklaces was now fiddling with and twirling her hair, your eyes equally trained on the new object of your hand’s attention. Melissa’s attention settled on eyelash on your cheek, she wished it was a good moment to get it so you could make a wish on it.

“I’ll tell Barb,” you move to argue, “not because you’re telling me to, but because you’re right. I want to show you off, get you in some Schemmenti clothes.” Melissa delights in the quiet groan you let out at the proposition of one of her custom jerseys or sweatshirts, her last name marking you as hers. Her own heart skips a beat at the image in her mind.

Your hand moves to her neck and you try to focus your eyes on her face, “only when you’re actually ready. I don’t wanna rush you.”

“No, I’ll tell her once we get back. I don’t need all those math-a-ritas spilling my business to half of PECSA,” she mumbles the last bit, and she gratefully sees you nodding in agreement. Stretching up, you press a kiss to her jaw. And another, then another. Nudging your way into the crook of her neck, Melissa feels your teeth gently chomp at her skin, a squeak leaving her throat at the action.

Your thumb strokes over the faint mark left on her neck that will be gone before morning, a kiss placed over it. The redhead can feel the vibrations of you speaking from her neck, but it’s too muffled to make out. She hums, a barely there question of what you’re saying, and the volume of your grumbles just barely reaches her ears. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

Neither of you answer the wake-up call or attend the continental breakfast the next morning. There’s not even an effort to leave the bed until twenty minutes before checkout where you both parted ways just to pack your things before rushing downstairs to go home. There’ll be a time where you stop driving separately and share stolen looks from down the hallway, and Melissa fully intends for that being over brunch with Barb tomorrow. Tonight, however, she wasn’t planning on letting go of you for even a second.

title is from bette davis eyes by kim carnes (also the song in the fic)

feedback appreciated as always <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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joshym · 1 year

Text

No Hands

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your little game works out exactly in your favor.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: (18+ MINORS DNI) unprotected sex, light dom/sub (roles switch a bit), rough sex, oral & fingering (f receiving), some good fluff.

A/N: I had a thought in my head that I just could not shake, so naturally I had to write it out and, well, here it is lol. I’m a bit nervous as this is my first smut to post here, but I truly hope you all enjoy. <3

Huge thank you to @jakeyt for the beautiful moodboard to accompany my unhinged thoughts, and for being the best editor. <3

💛

It’s the early evening, the golden glow shining through the windows is casting the house in an alluring warm hue. Josh has been gone most of the day working on the many projects for the upcoming album.

You miss him tremendously. You’re longing to have him near; you’re craving his touch particularly bad tonight. You keep catching yourself thinking about his hands and how well they search your body. They’re so strong and intentional with every touch. It feels like a lightning strike through your body with every graze of his fingertips.

He’s coming home soon and you’re already plotting your scheme.

You start to doll yourself up, putting on little touches of makeup and fixing your hair in a set of effortless curls.

It doesn’t take much to drive Josh crazy for you, but there’s one dress in particular that sets him off every time. In fact, it’s a rule that you aren’t allowed to wear it out in public anymore because he can’t seem to control himself. The dress is tight and quite short, nearly revealing it all every time you move even slightly. The back of it is completely open with the straps crossing in the back tied with a small bow. It’s black and adorned with small white roses. It hugs your body in all the right ways, and it looks really, really good on you.

So, naturally, you eagerly grab the dress that’s tucked away in the back of your closet. You put it on and smile widely at your reflection and instantly think to yourself, ‘he’s going to lose his damn mind.’

Before you know it, you hear the front door unlock. Your stomach is full of butterflies, but you do your best to maintain composure as he walks in. You greet him very nonchalantly, paying no mind to the fact that you’re donning the dress.

“Hi, baby! How did everything go today?”

He’s staring at you with wide eyes, looking at you with pure lust-filled confusion.

“It, uh, it went well, I guess.”

He sets his keys down on the table in the foyer and moves his way across the living room to you, never taking his tired eyes off your body.

“What’s the occasion, my dear?”

He moves closer, grabbing your waist with intensity and pressing his face in the crook of your neck. His lips faintly connect with the skin under your ear. You shudder at his touch but still manage to keep up your façade.

“Oh, this old thing? I just found it in the closet and felt like trying it on. No big deal, really.”

His fingertips tighten around your waist as he moves his lips closer to your ear. His voice becomes low and heavy, deep and hardly above a whisper.

“You know what this little ensemble does to me, sweetheart.”

He attaches his lips to your neck with vigor, causing you to momentarily break character as your body trembles. His hands move down slowly to your thighs to play with the hem of your dress. He starts to move them up under the fabric until you abruptly stop him by grabbing his forearms.

“I want to try something.”

His lips have yet to leave your neck, only stopping to respond to your inquiry.

“Yeah? I’m listening, lovely.”

You want to test him and see how far you can take it. He’s quite handsy, and you love how desperately he needs to touch every part of your body. You know that this will drive him over the edge and make him even more desperate to touch every part of you.

“Go sit on the couch and put your hands behind your back.”

He looks at you curiously with a large smirk gracing his flushed lips.

He takes a seat on the sofa, obeying your command and holding his hands behind him as he leans against the cushion.

You slowly make your way over to him, being sure to make it a bit of a show as you swing your hips. You gradually lift your dress up, ever so slightly revealing your black lace panties before you straddle yourself on his lap. He starts to move his hands to touch you, but you stop him.

“I want to try a ‘no hands’ kind of challenge. You must keep them behind your back while I kiss you, and if you move them, I’ll stop.”

Josh lightly groans and shifts his hips upwards, sending a harsh thrust to your body as you can feel him begin to harden instantly. You’re breathless at the sensation and eager to see how far this little game will take the two of you. A devious grin graces his face, his amber eyes becoming heavy and dark.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to regret this little game. But I’ll play along.”

It’s rare that Josh lets you take control during these fervorous moments between the two of you. He has quite the dominant side to him, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have it any other fucking way.

You’re infatuated with every part of him, especially the part that takes control and pleasures you in ways you never thought possible.

Sometimes, though, you liked to rile him up, to test his dominant side. Tease him relentlessly until he can’t stand it any longer and really lets you have it.

He knew exactly what you were doing, and he’s ready to give you just what you want.

You start kissing him with intense desire. Your hands cup his face while you explore his hungry mouth with your tongue. You start to move your kisses to his jawline, one of your favorite spots, licking and sucking on the tight skin.

He hasn’t even tried to move his hands yet. Dammit. Time to amp things up.

You start kissing the spot under his ear, licking his earlobe where his silver hoop rests between kisses. You know this drives him mad, and his reaction tells you he’s beginning to lose control.

You decide to turn things up one more notch. You begin moving your body, grinding yourself on his lap. You feel him start to twitch, his breathing becoming labored and staggered.

“Baby…you’re only making this worse for yourself…”

His voice is becoming more sinister, more possessive, more domineering. You feel his arms tense up as he’s fighting the urge to grab you.

You’ve got him right where you want him. Just a bit more taunting and he’ll give it up.

You suck dark marks all over his neck, moving your hands to his hair and lightly pulling. Your movement becomes vigorous against his lap, and you feel yourself starting to tremble at the sensation.

“I don’t think you can keep this up much longer, baby. I can feel how wet you are, you’re shaking. How much longer ‘til you let me take care of you, huh?”

He’s starting to find the loophole in your plan. He’ll get you to give in and give this whole thing up, taking over his place as the one in control.

And fuck, if you didn’t want that so badly.

But you’re not ready to give in. Not yet. You have to see how far he’ll let you go.

“You’re being so good for me, Joshy.”

You manipulate your voice to sound much more composed than you actually are, trying to keep up this semblance of control when in reality you’ve never been more ready for him to ravish you.

You up the ante once more, knowing this will more than likely be what does him in.

You reach down between your bodies and grope him through his khaki shorts, evoking a strong reaction from him.

“That’s it, y/n.”

He moves his hands from behind his back and grabs your waist, flinging you off him and laying you on your back on the couch. It all happened so quickly; you didn’t even have time to retaliate.

He makes up for lost time, maneuvering his hands to every inch of your body with potency. He bunches the fabric of your dress up to your hips, not wanting to waste the time to take it off completely. His fingers dip down to the black lace still covering your soaked pussy.

“Look at that, sweet girl. You’ve got yourself all worked up. What shall we do about that, hm?”

You giggle breathlessly, unable to form words due to the anticipation of what is about to happen.

“Uh uh. Tell me. Tell me what we need to do about it. You did this to yourself, sweetheart. Now use your words and tell me what you want, or I’ll stop.”

The roles have officially reversed. He’s played you with your own game. And you love it.

“I want you to use those incredible hands of yours all over me..”

You meet his lips with a few small pecks.

“..and your mouth..”

The kisses deepen.

“and your cock…”

He’s smirking against your lips as his hands begin to delve into exploring every crevice of your body.

He grabs your neck, squeezing lightly but with enough force to cause your breath to hitch. His other hand has bunched your dress all the way up to your stomach. He traces his fingers down the expanse of your belly, stopping right above the waistband of your panties, then moving to your exposed hip.

The hand on your neck moves down slowly to your chest. He grabs your breast through the fabric still covering it, kneading with his firm fingers and brushing his thumb over your nipple.

His lips travel down to your neck, sucking large love marks in the skin, softly biting and licking in between marking you up.

He pulls off your neck with a ‘pop’ from his mouth. Your skin is soaked from him.

“As much as I want to rip this cute little dress off of you, I think you should keep it on to remember why you’re not allowed to wear it in this first place.”

His hand on your hip moves back to your aching pussy still covered with black lace.

“Oh I think you’ve ruined these, sweetheart. What a shame. I love these on you.”

He pulls your panties all the way down your legs and throws them somewhere on the floor, leaving your wetness fully exposed. His fingers waste no time toying with you, rubbing hard and slow circles over and around your clit. Your body shakes and quivers with each movement of his fingertips.

His middle and ring fingers slide down to push past your entrance and fuck into you with intensity, his palm creating delicious friction against your clit.

His hands are so skilled, so strong; you feel like melting under his every touch. His long fingers immediately hit that place deep inside you that only he knows is there, that can only be reached by his touch.

You’re already so close. A melody of powerful moans escapes you, and you don’t even bother silencing them. You feel yourself tightening around his fingers when they suddenly slow to an agonizing halt. His deep and taunting voice grabs your attention away from his stilled movement.

“Already? You that needy for me, baby?”

His face just barely above yours, his warm breath tickling your skin in the most glorious way.

“Josh please, please don’t stop…I need you so bad..”

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg for me.”

His fingers start moving again, picking up their pace and you’re right back to where you were before he stopped.

The waves of pleasure come crashing over you like a tsunami. Your whole body tenses up under his touch, shaking uncontrollably, your back arched completely off the couch, bending to his will to please you. He keeps going, fucking his delectable fingers into you through each pulse and throb of your body.

You’re almost faint at the sensation. Josh pulls his fingers out and brings them up to your lips. You open for him as he places them on your tongue and you suck them in, tasting yourself and moaning at the feeling of them in your mouth.

“That was a big one, yeah? I felt you tighten up so hard around me. You think you can handle more, sweetheart?”

You nod and hum around his fingers that are still tucked away, splayed across your tongue.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”

Josh lifts you up on your knees, your elbows resting against the back of the couch. He stands behind you in admiration as you spread yourself for him. He gives a soft slap to your hip, kneeling to the ground at eye level with your throbbing core as his hands grab your thighs.

“You’re so pretty and pink after you’ve been played with, baby.”

He delivers velvet kisses to the backs of your thighs, slowly making his way to where you need his swollen lips the most.

His lips move closer and closer, until he finally lands a deep kiss to your desperately wet pussy.

His tongue laps at you without relent, his lips encompass your swollen clit.

“You feel so fucking good Josh, fu-”

You’re already close again. Your moans are deafening at the slight over stimulation that is nothing but elating.

“J-Josh…please don’t, please don’t stop I’m so close…”

Your body is trembling, barely able to hold yourself steady as your second release washes over you.

He stands up and his face meets your shoulder, feeling your wetness all over his facial hair.

“You taste so sweet, y/n. I could eat you up over and over.”

You’re short of breath, still coming down from your climax.

He leaves kisses on your shoulder as you hear him unzip his shorts.

“Think you can handle my cock, darling?”

“Y-yes, please. I need you inside me so bad.”

He places his head at your entrance. He’s unbelievably hard, and you smile at knowing it’s all because of your pleasure.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? You gonna cum for me again, hm?”

He’s barely nudging at you. You’re practically pushing yourself against him.

“Joshy please fuck me. I need to feel you, please…”

With that, he slowly pushes into you all the way, filling you completely and perfectly.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re so tight, sweet girl.”

He starts thrusting, building up his pace until he’s slamming himself into you.

His hands are moving up and down your body, pushing on your back, grabbing at your hair, holding on to your hip. These hands that you love so much; these hands that turn you on instantly. They’ve not stopped exploring you and pleasing you. You can’t get enough of his fucking hands.

He’s fucking you with so much rough passion and desire. Your body is on fire with pleasure.

He lifts you gently by your hair, bringing your back up to rest against him.

“I’m close baby. Give me one more, yeah? Then I’ll fill you up real good. Just one more for me, need to feel you cum on my cock.”

His fingers sneak down to your clit, rubbing impossibly fast circles.

“I’m gonna cum again, Josh..oh god please don’t stop.”

He’s moaning beautifully in your ear as his peak is almost reached, causing you to let go around him, cumming even harder than either time before.

“Fuck, y/n, that’s it baby. FUCK!”

He finally meets his own release, spilling his warmth inside of you, twitching with each pulse of your body.

You both stay just like this for a few minutes catching your breath and basking in this moment together.

He gently pulls out of you, causing you to slump down on the couch. You’re absolutely spent, having been pleasured beyond all imagination.

He lays down beside you. He faces you and brushes your disheveled hair out of your face, giggling at your fucked out state.

“I didn’t break you, did I?”

You laugh breathlessly, “Not quite.”

“I love you a lot, you know.”

“I love you too, Josh. So damn much.”

He glides his hand over your cheekbones and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, smiling at you.

“I know exactly what you were doing, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your little ‘no hands’ game. Maybe next time, you’re the one that can’t use your hands. Maybe we tie them behind your back. How does that sound, hm?”

You bite your lip to hold back the smile that is trying to grace your lips at the thought of him taking your game to the next level.

“Sounds great, Joshy. As long as your sexy hands are free the whole time.”

He smiles, knowing just how much his hands drive you crazy.

“Well then, you better keep this dress in a safe place.”

Part 2

Masterlist

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #greta van fleet fic #josh kiszka fan fic #gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut

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neonghostlights · 4 months

Note

now that i finished to the moon and back (and saw that we have twins with eddie 🥺😭) i’m thinking about his reaction to finding out you’re pregnant and my heart is going to explode 🥹

also just wanted to say, that series will always hold a special place in my heart and i think you ended it so beautifully 💖

Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it. It is one of my favorites that I’ve ever written (especially now that it’s done lol)

A little something about telling Eddie we’re pregnant in the To The Moon and Back universe.

Alien!Eddie x Farmer! Reader series masterlist

Warnings: Reader is pregnant, illness (morning sickness), worried about the baby and health, mentions of sex/smut (offscreen) , cussing 18 + only, minors DNI

You weren’t really sure how it happened.

Well, you were pretty sure you knew how it happened. Maybe during one of your morning showers you took together everyday, or that time in the spaceship, or that time he spent all night pumping you full over and over again like he couldn’t get enough of you.

It could have been those times or any of the times in between.

You didn’t think this would ever happen. You had been on Eddie’s planet for nearly a year and you hadn’t gotten pregnant yet, so why now?

“And you’re completely sure?” You asked the doctor again and she raised an eyebrow at you that told you that without a doubt she was sure.

You had been feeling sick but mostly craving some of the yucky puffy leaves that tasted like dirt that Eddie liked so much. That was the first sign that something was wrong.

“It seems like our species and your species are compatible,” she murmured as she typed on the screen before her. You tried to read it but you weren’t great at the language yet. Speaking it was hard and reading it was even harder. Even now you were wearing the very uncomfortable translators.

You were so happy that this planet offered a more permanent translator so Eddie could switch between speaking his language and yours flawlessly without having to wear a metal piece over his tongue or in his ear.

You weren’t so keen on the idea of having something permanently placed in your body so you just went the old fashioned way.

“Would you like to see them?” The doctor asked, holding up a wand to your stomach.

“Them?”

When you walked out of the health clinic and onto the street you noticed a few heads turn, but most minded their business now that they were used to having a human in their midst.

It was odd being out and about without Eddie. You hadn’t even told him that you planned to come today. Luckily, on this planet no appointments were needed for doctor’s visits and with the readily available healers in every household the office was practically empty.

When you got home you waited on one of the living room seats. The home was built mostly like a house, but made out of metal. It reminded you of a very, very large trailer. It was mostly open floor plan with your bedroom on one side of the house while the kitchen and living room took up most of the living space.

You stared at the door, bouncing your legs with anxiety while you waited for him.

And when he finally opened the door you started to cry.

Eddie rushed to you, frantic.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He shushed you while assessing you for injuries.

“I’m pregnant!” You sobbed. It wasn’t really the way you wanted to tell him but damn these hormones were strong. “And it’s twins!”

You knew it was a possibility of having twins since Eddie’s planet has a high amount of them. But it wasn’t something you were prepared for.

Eddie froze, wide eyes unblinking as he stared at you.

“Eddie, you’re scaring me.”

“Pregnant? Are you really?”

You nodded and told him all about your doctors trip, how you went out alone and got the news today.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked, a hand stroking your stomach already. You could by the small movement that he was happy but trying not to scare you.

“I’m pretty fucking scared but I think I’m excited. I didn’t think I’d ever have kids but I also never thought that I’d travel to another planet too,” you admitted.

“Babies,” Eddie repeated shaking his head, “I knew you had been smelling extra sweet lately,” he said before pressing a kiss to your stomach.

Somehow you knew everything was going to be okay.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #alien!eddie munson x farmer!reader #alien!eddie munson x reader #alien!eddie munson

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skyward-floored · 2 months

Text

Febuwhump collab alt day - “I love you”

And here’s the last febuwhump fic (...on the 27 of March lol. what can I say, I get easily distracted).

This one was suggested by @webhead3345, and it’s really more hurt/comfort then anything, but after the last one some comfort is probably nice XD I hope you enjoy it!

And thanks to everyone who suggested characters/prompts for these! I appreciate you all so much <3

Today’s lovely art

Ao3 link

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Having six kids could be a challenge sometimes, Malon was willing to admit.

It would be difficult enough normally, but with five of them having superpowers, two being adopted, and all of them rambunctious boys who sometimes forgot their house was on the small side... it could be a lot sometimes.

But Malon always did her best, and Time along with her. Even when it got overwhelming, even when they disagreed, even through the sleepless nights and stress and fear and countless other worries from essentially living underground, they both tried their hardest to raise their kids well, and keep them safe and happy. Malon could only hope they were succeeding.

Especially in regards to their two adopted boys.

Hyrule and Wild had both been through such awful things, both due to factors they couldn’t control. It wasn’t always obvious, and they were both so strong for their ages, but sometimes the scars that had been left on them both reared their ugly heads, and one or the both of them would fall apart for a bit.

Malon always tried to pay attention and help when one or the other of them was stuck in a bad period. She had plenty of practice with Wild, and usually knew how to comfort him, but Hyrule could be a bit of a mystery still. She was still figuring out what tended to set him off, how he acted when he was upset, how his reactions tended to differ from Wild’s, and most of all, how to help.

And at the moment, she was at a bit of a loss as to what to do.

Hyrule had been acting quieter then normal recently, fading to the background of the typical chaos his brothers brought with them. He mostly just nodded if someone asked him something, and seemed a little more distant, taking longer to respond to things, and keeping to himself.

Malon wouldn’t have worried too much about most of that, but then she noticed the shadowed circles appear under his eyes, ones that only seemed to get darker with every passing day. It soon became obvious Hyrule wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep with the way he began to stumble around, and Malon’s worry doubled.

And then Wild started to act in a similar way, unusually quiet and withdrawn, tired-looking and cranky, and that really got her worried.

Malon just wasn’t sure how to go about getting to the root of the problem. Wild and Hyrule were both tight-lipped when things bothered them, and got defensive if pushed, and Malon knew a direct confrontation could be disastrous. She’d tried some light prodding, but hadn’t been successful in the slightest.

She could guess what it was that was bothering the two of course, and had a pretty good idea of what it might be, but she also didn’t want to assume and end up making things worse. Time didn’t have any ideas either when she discussed the problem with him, but he’d been swamped at work lately, and was barely thinking straight.

So Malon was left to try and figure out the problem mostly by herself, her worry growing by the day.

It finally reached the point where it was affecting her own sleep, and Malon found herself startled awake late one night after a week had gone by from the start of her sons’ odd behavior, and found herself completely unable to fall back asleep.

Time was snoring softly beside her, and Malon laid there for a while, trying to let the sound lull her back to sleep. She didn’t have any luck though, her brain too full, her mind too awake. She finally sighed, getting nowhere, and carefully slipped out of bed and pulled on her bathrobe. She made sure not to disturb Time at all, then walked down to the kitchen to try making herself a cup of tea.

The kettle didn’t take long to heat, and Malon yawned as she set her tea to steeping, walking into the living room with it to sit and wait for it to finish.

Then stopped in her tracks, realizing she wasn’t alone.

Malon hadn’t noticed on her way in, but there were two odd lumps huddled on the couch, both quiet and still. She stepped closer to study them, and realized one was Hyrule, wrapped tight in a blanket and staring silently at the ground.

He wasn’t the only there either, but whoever it was beside him was bundled up so tightly that Malon had no idea who it even was.

She could certainly guess though.

Worry crested over her, and she set down her cup, walking forward and shuffling her feet just a little to make sure Hyrule heard her coming. He startled a little anyway when he noticed her, but didn’t shield or run, just went back to staring at the floor.

The lump next to him shifted a little, and Malon saw a strand of long blond hair fall free of the blanket.

“Hyrule? Wild?” she asked gently, and Hyrule swallowed, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Wild didn’t move. “It’s awful late you two, what are you doing down here?”

Hyrule didn’t look at her.

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” he whispered.

“If it was nothing, you both wouldn’t be out here and not in your beds,” Malon gently pointed out, sitting down on the couch beside them both. “What’s eatin’ you?”

Hyrule kept looking at his feet, a few sniffles escaping him.

“I-I, we just can’t sleep,” he whispered, not meeting her eyes. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Malon asked gently. Hyrule gave her a tiny shrug. “Well... is there a particular reason you two can’t sleep?”

Hyrule went silent.

The lump at his side shifted, and Wild poked his head out, Hyrule moving so he was more tucked against his side then before.

“...bad dreams,” Wild whispered after a few minutes, voice shaky. “‘Rulie too.”

Malon’s heart sank.

“Both of you?” she asked worriedly, and Wild nodded, rubbing at the shadows under his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hyrule whispered even more quietly.

“Honey, you don’t need to apologize,” Malon said, and turned so she could meet his eyes. “Neither of you do, it’s okay. Do you want to talk about them?” she asked in a softer voice.

Wild shook his head, and Hyrule shrank down in his blanket.

“No.”

Worry prickled at her, but Malon nodded, and didn’t say anything for a moment, Hyrule still letting out an occasional sniffle. Wild shifted where he was curled up again, and somehow he and Hyrule ended up snuggled against Malon, Wild’s head in her lap, Hyrule’s resting on her arm.

A shuddering sigh escaped Wild, and Malon ran a hand over his head, fingers ghosting past his scars.

She let out a quiet sigh of her own, looking at them both. She’d finally gotten the answer to what was bothering them (and had been bothering them), but she felt no better knowing the reason.

The nightmares must have been especially bad as of late.

Malon adjusted Hyrule’s blanket, continuing to run her hand over Wild’s head. She dearly wished she she could take away what was troubling them both, and let them get a full night’s sleep for once, but unfortunately that wasn’t a power she possessed.

Malon wished it all the same though.

Hyrule sniffled again, and Malon shifted her arm so it was resting around him, loose enough he wouldn’t be nervous, but tight enough to offer comfort. He leaned into it, and Malon ran her hand over his hair as well.

“Mom?” Wild whispered after a bit, and Malon hummed questioningly. “Why’re you awake too?”

“Did we wake you up?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Malon shook her head.

“No sweetie, you didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep either,” she admitted, and Wild peered up at her, worry shining in his eyes.

“...was it cause of nightmares?” he asked softly, and Malon ran her hand over his head again.

“No, not tonight. But... sometimes I have them.”

“...What about?”

Malon sighed, thinking for a moment before she spoke. Wild and Hyrule certainly didn’t need to know everything about nightmares she’d had, especially the worst ones, but maybe a few details would help them feel better.

“Well... I worry about you boys, and your father. All sorts of things, really. And sometimes my dreams take my worries and just twist them up and make them worse then they really are. It’s hard,” she said gently, “to remember they’re not real sometimes.”

Her boys seemed to think about that for a minute, both staying quiet.

“...Mine’re like that,” Hyrule whispered. “With the mostly real things.”

“I never remember mine,” Wild admitted, voice still shaky. “Just... just how bad they were.”

“Oh boys,” Malon said softly, and Hyrule sniffled again, hiding his face in her arm.

She’d thought the ache in her chest couldn’t get any worse, but apparently it could, and Malon held both of them tighter, running a soothing hand across both their heads. Hyrule and Wild relaxed at the motion, and Malon kept it up, beginning to softly hum.

She couldn’t take her sons’ bad dreams away. And she couldn’t take away the memories that brought them on, and continued to plague them even afterwards. But she could comfort them now, let them know everything was okay and that they weren’t alone, no matter what their nightmares tried to tell them.

Not on my watch, she thought as she continued to hold them tight.

Wild and Hyrule’s eyes began to droop as she hummed her family’s song, and Malon watched as they both slowly nodded off, still snuggled tight against her.

After several minutes, both were soundly asleep, faces relaxed from the tension that had been there before. A part of Malon wanted to just stay here with them all night, but she knew her back wouldn’t like it if she slept upright on a couch, and they’d all be more comfortable in their own beds. So once she was sure they were both asleep, she shifted Wild and Hyrule around, careful not to wake them. Then Malon pulled them both up into her arms, standing and walking back to their rooms.

Despite her efforts not to jostle them, both Hyrule and Wild’s eyes blinked open as she moved, and they watched her walk up the stairs, barely awake.

“You can carry us both?” Wild murmured doubtfully, and Malon smiled as she easily reached the top of the stairs.

“Darlin’ I’ve lifted cows twice your size before, this is nothing.”

Hyrule giggled. “Really?”

“Really.”

Hyrule and Wild both let out sleepy giggles at that, and Hyrule set his head back against her shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

Malon dropped Wild off first, setting him down in his bed and attempting to fix his blankets. Somehow they’d gotten all tangled around and folded in on themselves, and it took her a moment to straighten them out enough to tuck Wild in.

“Goodnight hon. Sleep well,” she said softly.

“You too,” Wild mumbled sleepily, and curled up under his blankets.

Malon gave him a kiss, and noticed a furry head poking up from Twilight’s bed, blue eyes shining at her. She put a finger to her lips, then carried Hyrule out of the room, hearing pawsteps cross the floor after she was gone.

She brought Hyrule to the room he shared with Four and Wind, stepping lightly so as not to wake anyone. Malon set him down once she crossed the room to his end, and tucked him in like she’d done for Wild, adjusting his blankets around him, and fetching the stuffed rabbit he usually slept with that had fallen halfway under the bed.

Hyrule watched her sleepily the whole time, still clinging stubbornly to consciousness. Malon lingered a moment even after she finished getting him settled, running a hand over his head, and Hyrule relaxed into the touch.

“Goodnight honey,” she said softly as his eyes finally drifted shut, and she stood and began to walk out the door.

“...Mom?”

The whisper made her pause, and she looked back at Hyrule, his eyes open again.

“Yes sweetheart?”

Hyrule blinked sleepily, barely hanging on to wakefulness, but Malon heard his next whisper loud and clear.

“...Love you.”

Malon looked at him in astonishment, warmth blooming in her middle at the sound of the words from her son. She blinked back a bit of a sting in her eyes, then walked back over to Hyrule, smiling at him.

“I love you too honey,” she said softly, and kissed the top of his head. “Sleep well.”

Hyrule smiled back at her, and his eyes closed again, Malon knowing he was truly asleep this time.

She adjusted his blankets just a little more, then straightened and crept out of the room, back to her own bed. The anxiety and tightness that had been keeping her awake had finally settled, and her eyes felt heavy as she slipped back to where she and Time slept.

“...Everything alright?” Time whispered as she got back into bed, looking at her sleepily. “You’ve been gone a while, I was about to come looking for you."

Malon smiled as she got under the covers, and nestled up to Time with a sleepy sigh.

“Yes. Everything’s fine,” she replied, setting her head under his. “Nothing to worry about.”

And something to celebrate, she thought as she closed her eyes, Hyrule’s whisper still warming her heart.

#Hyrule doesn't vocalize his feelings like... ever #so this was a big deal for Malon #she'd never heard him say I love you before #incredibles au #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu malon #lu hyrule #lu wild #febuwhump #alt prompt #linked universe fanfic #writing from the floor #and that's (finally) a wrap!#thanks y'all XD #if you have an opinion on what I should work on next for this au do send it my way #I've got a couple things in progress but I never know what to work on lol

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 5 months

Text

FOH/BOH pt 1/2 (M, cold)

I'm splitting this in two because it's going to be 2 fairly distinct parts. In this one, Elijah is sick - but I'll be honest, a lot of it is just Mark being introspective. I wanted to write out a little of his story, since my last story had a good amount of Matt's inner thoughts. Idk what else to say about this one, lol other than Elijah catches something from the servers and is his usual pissed off self about it. Next part will hopefully be out soon-ish. Hope you all like it :)

CW: male, cold, fever, light mess, contagion, coughing. 2.7k words.

FOH/BOH

As far as Matt was concerned, there were two types of people in this world: front of house, and back of house.

Matt didn’t believe in astrology; he thought the enneagram was stupid, hated personality tests, and nearly scoffed in Elijah’s face when he told the management team at Elliot’s they’d be analyzing management styles using one of those what-color-is-your-parachute tests during the slow season this year. He did, however, believe firmly, almost spiritually, in the FOH/BOH divide.

The differences, Matt knew, could be subtle or obvious, but they were always distinct.

“Elijahhh!” Greyson called from the kitchen at the top of his lungs. “We can all hear you from in here!”

The cooks whooped with laughter from their prep stations behind the line, and Matt bit his cheek to keep from joining them. Greyson turned towards him, a smirk painted on his face, and secured his hair at the top of his head with a sharpie while they waited for Elijah’s inevitable trudge into the kitchen.

When Elijah pushed through the kitchen doors, the cooks forced themselves into submission and strapped in for the dressing-down they knew was coming their chef’s way. Elijah walked straight to the prep table in the middle of the kitchen and made livid eye contact with Greyson, obviously ready to go to blows. Matt, entirely too close for comfort, took a tentative step towards the line to keep out of the path of destruction.

“Do you thingk,” Elijah said, his voice low and cracking, “that you could fucking cool it with the theatrics, just this once? Just for today? For mbe – hh – hhITZCH-ue! HTSHH-uh! HRRTSHH-ue! Hh-!”

Elijah was stuck in a sort of pre-sneeze purgatory for longer than Greyson had the patience for, apparently. “By all means,” Greyson said, leaning on the prep table with his head in one hand, “don’t stop on my behalf.”

The GM colored and lowered his arm from his face, casting daggers at the chef. ��Do you really thingk it’s appropriate for us to fuckigg squabble around your staff?” Elijah asked, quiet enough that only Greyson and Matt could hear it. Greyson smiled, stood to his full height, and placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder.

“I do,” he said at full volume. “They’re not our real kids, it’s okay if they see mommy and daddy duke it out.”

The cooks roared once again, and Elijah flushed, clearly annoyed. “Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re on one today. Whatever. I have to go findish helping the servers set up for the night. Leave mbe out of your stupid little mood.”

“I’m on one because you have the server’s fuckin’ flu and you should be at home, not continuing the spread,” Greyson said to Elijah’s back as his boss started out the kitchen doors. “Mark is coming in in twenty minutes and you are leaving.”

Elijah didn’t turn back around, just flashed the kitchen the finger as he walked out into the dining room. Greyson turned towards his sous and rolled his eyes.

“Passive aggressive fuck,” Greyson said, picking his knife up and turning towards the line cooks behind him. “Don’t worry, guys, we still love you all, mommy and daddy just get frustrated with one another sometimes.”

Another round of laughter from the cooks. Matt shook his head, smiling until they all heard Elijah once again from the dining room – “HRRESHHH-ue!”

Greyson smiled devilishly at Matt, then his cooks, and held up his hand. “One, two,” he mouthed to the cooks, holding up the corresponding fingers. When he got to three, he pointed to the swinging doors that lead to the dining room. The whole kitchen, in tandem, called towards them.

“Bless you, Elijah.”

Within seconds, Elijah’s strained voice answered. “Oh, fuck off all of you.”

This time, the line cooks nearly collapsed with laughter. Greyson turned towards Matt, grinning ear to ear. “Think he heard us?” he asked. Matt couldn’t help but join in on the laughter this time.

***

At first, Mark hadn’t been sure that he bought Matt’s whole front of house person/back of house person bullshit.

“People have layers, babe,” Mark had said, coursing his fingers through Matt’s hair while they ignored the movie that was playing on TV. “No one is just… some caricature of ‘kitchen’ or ‘dining room’. This isn’t The Bear.”

“But that’s the thing, baby, it kind of is The Bear,” Matt said, sitting up straight and looking his boyfriend in the eye. “Did you not relate to The Bear? I don’t think this is going to work if you didn’t relate to The Bear, I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“I mean, yeah, I did but… I don’t know. I want to be more than just my job, y’know?” Mark pulled Matt back to laying on his lap – Matt allowed himself to be pulled.

“This isn’t about your job, it’s about your personality,” Matt explained. “Not everyone has worked in a restaurant, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a front or back of house person.”

“I’m so lost, honey. I thought this was about restaurants.”

“No, it’s about people.”

“Maybe you should look into getting your GED,” Mark said, elbowing Matt playfully. “So you can go to college for, like, sociology or something.”

“Oh fuck you,” Matt said, not unkindly. “You have to know what I mean. C’mon. You’re telling me you’ve never met someone and gone, ‘oh, that person’s totally a kitchen person’.”

“I can genuinely say I have not,” Mark said, placing a kiss on the top of Matt’s head. “Your mind is an enigma.”

They’d dropped it at that point, but Mark hadn’t stopped thinking about it all week. He’d thought about it when he’d talked to his dad on the phone and he asked Mark whether he’d gotten his oil changed lately, but didn’t say ‘I love you’ when they hung up – man, he’s such a back of house guy. He’d thought about it when he’d bought a coffee and the barista asked him about the entirety of his college career in England while a line formed out the door behind him – never met such a front of house person in my life. He’d especially thought about it at work, where the servers and bussers loudly complained all week about being sick.

“Maaaark,” Riley, their lead server, whined to him one day. “I feel like fuckin shiiiit.”

“Well, the shift is 85% over,” Mark replied as he replaced the silverware on an empty table. “Do you think you can make it another hour?”

Riley had pouted, sniffled, and shrugged. “I guess,” she said, opening her server book. “But, like, I’ve already made my money tonight, can’t you just cut me early?”

Typical front of house, Mark had thought to himself. So maybe Matt had been right; maybe there were just two types of people in this world. The problem was, despite having been ‘front of house’ most of his adult life, he didn’t know if he really… belonged there.

Mark had, essentially, fallen into working in restaurants; he’d been an English major in college – which basically guaranteed your life to veer towards serving tables or shaking cocktails – and when he’d graduated, he hadn’t felt the pull towards teaching or grad school or any of the typical ‘English major’ careers his friends had chosen. Instead, he kept his serving job; eventually, the resort that he worked at offered him a banquet captain position, which he did until he realized catering made him want to stab both eyes out with a cocktail fork. When he moved to New York on a whim, Mark had been sure he’d apply to grad school, or look for a copy-writing position, or apply to be a publisher’s assistant – but he didn’t. Instead, he found himself dialing the number on a flyer in the window of a soon-to-be-opened restaurant near the apartment he shared with four other recent college grads.

“Future home of Elliot’s restaurant, this is Elijah speaking,” the voice on the other end of the number answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” Mark had said. “I was wondering if you were hiring any front of house positions?”

It turned out that Mark was the first person to call Elijah in search of a job. Despite his only being twenty-one at the time, and despite the fact that he had no managerial experience, Elijah hired him on the spot to be the front of house manager.

“You have a good vibe,” Elijah said when they met at a coffee shop for Mark’s interview. “That’s all I really care about.”

And then suddenly, somehow, seven years had passed. He’d never found a good enough reason to leave Elliot’s; he was paid well, Elijah let him take tips when he had to cover for servers or bartenders, and the work, while demanding, felt mostly fun. He’d never felt like a front of house person, he was just… a person who worked in the front of house. Sometimes, Mark thought, he didn’t know what kind of person he was at all. A person who things just happened around. A background person. A person that no one could say much about, other than he had a good vibe.

That is, until Matt.

“Hi honey,” Matt said as Mark pushed through the back doors into the kitchen. Mark smiled wide when he saw that Matt was alone in the back kitchen; he pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, which Matt returned greedily.

“Hi,” Mark said, finally pulling away. “How have things been here this morning?”

Before Matt could answer, they heard a huge, “HRRTSHH-ue!” from the front kitchen. Mark whipped his head towards the sound, then back to Matt.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Mark said. Matt pressed his lips together, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.

“Mbark,” Elijah said, rounding the corner with a hand held over the bottom half of his face, “you’re here, great.” The GM yanked a paper towel from the holder on the wall next to Matt and used it to wipe his nose before gesturing Mark to follow him, “Let’s go over the ndight, mbeet me in the office.”

“Right behind you,” Mark murmured to Elijah’s back. Before he followed his boss, he threw Matt a pained look, which his boyfriend returned with a mouthed, I’m sorry.

When the servers were sick, they were annoying because they complained constantly. They called out at the slightest provocation, they glommed onto one another and spread their illnesses like wildfire, and they always ended up sending their shit into the kitchen when one of them inevitably slept with a cook after a long night of drinking. When Elijah was sick, though, it was annoying for a whole other set of reasons.

Mostly, if he was honest, it was the blatant denial that he found obnoxious. “So, tondight shouldn’t be too heinous,” Elijah said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he sat at the shared desk. “It’s tomborrow we really have to – tuh… hhITZSHH-ue! HTSHH-ue!” Elijah folded in on himself to sneeze away from Mark, blearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and attempted to continue. “To worry about,” he finished, coughing into the back of his hand.

“Uh huh,” Mark said, taking in the state of his boss. Elijah had been quiet yesterday, and quick to annoyance, but despite knowing the man for almost a decade, Mark still wasn’t able to decipher between ‘quiet, easily annoyed’ Elijah and ‘getting sick’ Elijah. The two were indecipherable from one another.

“Don’t sit too close, Mark,” Greyson’s voice called from the prep station near the line. Both Mark and Elijah looked over at the chef, who was butchering New York’s and smirking to himself. “He’s sick as a dog.”

“Greyson,” Elijah called, his voice cracking on the word. “Could you combe in here for a minute, please?”

Greyson rolled his eyes, but put down his knife and walked toward the office all the same. “Yes, dear?” he asked, toweling off his hands and leaning on the office’s door frame. “How can I help you? Some tea, maybe, or perhaps a drive home?”

Elijah stood, pulled Greyson into the office, and shut the door. “Stop fuckigg patronizing mbe in front of the staff,” he growled, poking a finger into the chef’s chest. Greyson huffed out a little laugh and slapped a hand on Elijah’s forehead.

“I’ll stop,” he said, “when you no longer have a hundred-and-two fever.”

There they stood, the two ultimate testaments to Matt’s theory, duking it out in front of a clearly-forgotten Mark. Greyson, the gregarious, heart on his sleeve, back-of-house guy who would just as soon scream at you as he would give you the shirt off his back, and Elijah, the subdued stay-together-for-the-kids front of house man, who knew everything about everyone and cared so hard he couldn’t see anyone else caring about him in return. Yin and yang. Front and back. Which are you, Mark? he thought to himself as the standoff continued.

“Mark,” Greyson said, breaking the spell, “can you handle tonight by yourself out front?”

Mark blinked, first at his boss, then at Greyson, and finally found his voice. “Y-yeah, I mean, of course I can,” he said.

“It’s a busy ndight, Grey, I don’t waahhh – ETSCHH-zue! HhhNGTSHH-uhh!” Elijah wrenched to the side to keep from sneezing in Greyson’s face – much to the detriment of Mark.

“Yikes,” Greyson muttered, watching Mark cringe against the spray Elijah directed, unknowingly, into his face. His boss flushed bright red when he realized what he’d done.

“Fuckigg shit,” Elijah murmured, yanking a tissue out of the box and handing it, lamely, to Mark. “Fugck, Mbark I’mb so sorry I didn’t meee – ETSCHH-zue!” This time, Elijah tented both hands over his face to keep from having a repeat of that incident. Greyson took his hand back then, shrunk away from the GM.

“Maybe, uh, give us a signal next time?” Greyson said, an attempt to break the tension. Mark would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel so thoroughly...infected.

“Would’ve if I could’ve,” Elijah grumbled, pulling another tissue out and blowing his nose. “Mbark, I’m so -”

“It’s fine, boss,” Mark said, standing. “But, um, I do think Chef is right – maybe you should go home, sleep it off?”

Elijah swallowed, pain evident on his face, and finally gave up the charade. “Alright,” he said, curt. “Finde. I’ll go.” He turned back towards Mark. “You’re sure you’ve got this?”

“Of course, boss,” Mark said. Elijah nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Take sombe Emergen-C or something, okay?”

“Okay, boss,” Mark said. Elijah coughed painfully into the sleeve of his shirt, grabbed his backpack, and signed out of the computer.

“I’ll drive you home,” Greyson offered, but Elijah shook his head.

“Thanks, mother, but I think I can handle a five-mbinute drive with a cold,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just mbake sure your guys are ready for tomorrow ndight – it’s going to be a doozy.”

“And that’s how we know it’s really time for you to leave, when you start using words like ‘doozy’,” Greyson said, pushing Elijah out the door. “Go. You’ve infected enough people today.”

Finally, Elijah did as he was told and left. Mark and Greyson stood in the office avoiding eye contact with each other for what felt like a long moment.

“You wanna run to the store and get some Emergen-C?” Greyson asked, breaking the awkward silence. Mark laughed a little.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling a hand down his face, “I guess I probably should.”

On his way out the back door, Matt caught the back of Mark’s shirt. “The fuck is going on up there?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “Where are you going? Did Elijah go home?”

Mark turned and embraced Matt, then pulled back to offer a small smile. “Elijah went home,” he said. “And I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Matt asked again. Mark just sighed and gave his boyfriend a defeated look.

“I’m going to try and ward off the stupid fucking front of house flu.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #contagion #sneezeblr

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wayvlocks · 2 years

Text

ℳ𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 & ℳ𝒶𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 Pt. 1

synopsis: you’re a nurse who finally got promoted to work with a psycho.

pairing: ateez hongjoong x afab reader

word count: 1.8k

genre: psycho au, fantasy au, possessed pirates au

warnings: minors DNI!, not really smut yet but def will be warned for the rest of the series - HONGJOONG IS A PERV, so theres some sexual and/or dark themes - if you are uncomfy about psychiatric hospitals - this may not be for you as I might mention a few things within the series to come.

Chapters: Part I, Part II

additional notes: hi :) wayvlocks here. just wanted to say thank you to those who commented and liked my last post about making this ff happen. tbh i am planning to make this into a series fyi so hopefully you guys are interested in seeing where it goes. idk how many parts there will be - i just kinda make this crap up as i go and as i please lol. i wanted to also mention to those of you who will want to actively read this series, that i am a full time college student. therefore, i really can upload when i can, im sorry - i just dont have the same set schedule every day/week. anyway, enough about me, read this ff (its what you were here for in the first place)

You’ve been working at KQ Psychiatrics, in the outpatient clinic for a few years now, and you finally were able to get that promotion you worked so hard for. Years of pushing yourself more than ever, taking time off the clock to visit VIP patients, and even volunteering in the cafeteria paid off. Little did you know your promotion was an assignment change to work in the Special Cases department.

The Special Cases department was famous in the outpatient clinic. There was never a boring day when gossip floated around of a patient in the Special Cases department. There were so many rumors about patients that you had heard, and they were starting to turn your stomach with thoughts about your new promotion.

Staff1: “Did you hear what happened to Mr. Nakamoto during his medication time last week?”

Staff2: “Yes! I heard he manipulated the previous nurse on duty to go into his room!”

Staff3: “Oh my god! That's right! When she went in, he jumped her, ripped up her clothes and stabbed her in the legs with a spork!”

You thought you were lucky enough not to be assigned as a personal nurse to someone like Mr. Nakamoto. Of course, since the reveal of the true nature of your “promotion,” you haven’t truly experienced luck today. Furthermore, your bad luck deepens when it's revealed to you who you really are assigned to. The most insane, manipulative, possessive, wicked – rumored murderous man held in the hospital…

Kim Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong was notoriously famous amongst the patients and staff. He has been housed in the hospital for nearly 5 years now. He was 17 when he was taken from his home to be permanently kept here. Hongjoong is the patient who is talked about the most, especially between other patients. They have rumored the reason he got taken from his home was because he murdered his family after having some “alternate dimension revelation” – whatever that means. The creepiest rumors you’ve heard is that sometime at night, after lights out, he disappears from his room – just “poof.” After five to ten minutes, he reappears like nothing happened. You can’t really seem to trust these rumors, after all, most of them come from the Psychiatric patients who are known to hallucinate. However, you remember one staff member telling you that he does in fact disappear.

• • •

You just finished clocking in, today is the day, a new job position. You make your way to the main doctor’s office to tell them you're here. One of them, proceeds to walk towards you. His coat reads:

Dr. Joshua Hong.

Joshua: “Hello Y/n, find everything okay in your Special Cases pamphlet?” He said with a quiet chuckle.

Y/n: You started to force a smile. “Ah, yes. It was somewhat informative.”

Joshua: “It shouldn't be too bad, just making sure they get their medications and sunshine,” he smiled.

Y/n: “I think I can handle that for the most part. It’s just... just...” you mumble.

Joshua: “Hm?”

For a moment you don't say anything, but before you opened your mouth, he knew.

Joshua: “Ah… you’re Kim Hongjoong’s nurse. I remember reading through the new nurses' files earlier this morning.”

Y/n: “Yes...”

Joshua: “Hm. Listen, I’ll walk you to the department and show you around, if you need me to. I can even stand by when you meet him for the first time today. The last nurse he had didn’t go through with that idea and ended up quitting within an hour.”

You thought about what he said for second. Is that true? You now wonder how malicious and sinister he could be to ruin a conversation that ended with a nurse quitting. As you stood there, stressing about meeting this Kim Hongjoong, you noticed Joshua staring at you for a response.

Y/n: “I’d love for you to show me around the department. About meeting him though...”

You stopped for a second. You thought despite all the rumors surrounding your famous patient, you realized how hard you worked for this new promotion. Think back to showing how your hardworking skills paid off, you really didn't want to show up the first day looking afraid or weak. You knew deep down you could probably handle this guy; I mean, you would barely have to talk to him, right?

“…I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

• • •

Joshua leads you down the halls, passing many different patient rooms and offices. At the start of the walk, you passed by rooms of patients that you had often checked out in the lobby or held conversations with daily. Some waved or spoke quiet hellos to you, which you exchanged back.

As your walk continued you started to notice the difference between every hallway, traveling further into the hospital, getting closer towards the Special Cases department. There were less patients you could recognize while the rooms kept getting duller and duller. It started to look grayer than before. You also noticed many of the patient’s rooms had bars on the windows or doors.

The rooms you passed had no pictures on the walls. There were safety locks on door and window handles. One room you passed, had stains on the floor leading from the door to the bed. It was the most shocking image on your walk. You read the patient’s tag outside the door, reading ‘Choi San’. You weren’t sure what the stains were, but it bothered you that they ranged in colors from yellow to red.

Joshua: “Hey are you okay?” You quickly came back to after zoning out.

Y/n: “Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Joshua: “I just noticed you were blankly staring at some of the rooms. It must feel super different being down here than in the lobby for you, doesn’t it?”

Y/n: “Actually… yes. Everything is so gray and there were weird stains- “

Joshua: “Oh, yeah. Don’t mind those. Honestly, it’s better to just go about your day. I’ve heard too many stories when I asked about them my first day. Not an answer you wanna hear,” he smiles.

You were in shock. You started to have second doubts, again. You looked at his smile and felt like you weren’t entirely sure if you could believe him. You wondered if it was true, what the answer could possibly be. It was obvious he was just trying to make you aware that the less you know the better. Just then, Joshua immediately stops walking. You nearly bump into him because you were zoning out again.

You look up past his shoulder in front of you. There’s a seven-foot metal door with a small bulletproof window and slightly rusted hinges. A guard behind the other side of the giant door looked through the small window. Joshua held up his ID and then proceeded to move out of the way to show you hiding behind his figure. The guard unlocked five or six latches until the door finally screeched open. You walked through the door frame, only to be in another hallway, only this time the walls looked like pebble stone or rocks with no windows.

Guard: “And this is…?” He looked down at you, still hiding behind Joshua.

Joshua: “Oh, this is Y/n,” he smiled. “She is going to be Mr. Kim’s new personal nurse.”

Guard: “Really huh? I hope she’s mentally strong enough for that bastard. Fucker said the most disgusting things to the last nurse he had.”

Joshua: “I’m sure she can handle it. Didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got the promotion quickly for her volunteer work. She was personally recommended by the head nurse when the top doctors had that monthly meeting.”

You started feeling flustered hearing this new information from Joshua. The head nurse? You thought the staff in charge of filling this position just got desperate for someone. You started to think maybe you specifically chosen, that others thought you could do this job. This idea started to block out anymore doubts you had about yourself. Now you knew that you were in fact strong enough for this position.

You and Joshua exchanged smiles with the door guard and walked down the dismal hallway. At some point you reached a set of stairs, leading down towards a smaller hallway with lights. You and Joshua both walk down the stairs carefully, then walking through the shorter hall. There was a caved-out room with what seemed like jail bars separating the cell from the rest of the hall. You saw a person standing in the cell, turned away from the bars. Joshua faked a cough to get the person’s attention, causing them to slowly turn towards you. You started eyeing this figure from his bare feet to the gray sweatpants and then the matching, loose t-shirt. He was holding an old leatherback book in his left hand, to which you saw a small birthmark. You noticed a distinctive mole on the left side of his neck. The second you saw the face, you could tell. Hongjoong. He was attractive. His hair was dyed, split black and white. He had a pointed nose that was slightly upturned and full, barely defined cupid’s bow lips. The most prominent feature you saw was his thick long eyebrows. Following down to his almond shaped, dark brown eyes, which were staring intensely at you. He smiled devilishly.

Joshua: “Mr. Kim, this is youre new nur- “ Hongjoong chuckled, still smiling devilishly directly at you only.

Hongjoong: “Yes I know exactly who this is. Don’t need to be told something I already know, isn’t that right darling?” You looked right at him, feeling tense.

Joshua: “Right of course, Mr. Kim.” You swore you could hear Joshua curse Hongjoong under his breath. You bite your tongue as Joshua take a step back and gives you a goodbye. You’re alone with him now.

• • •

Y/n: “Hello Mr. Kim…” you timidly stated.

Hongjoong: “Please darling,” practically staring into your soul, “call me Hongjoong. No need to be formal with me.”

Y/n: “Right… Hongjoong.” You took a deep breath and thought about the pamphlet you were given. Reviewing all the information in your head on the spot. “So, I’m assuming you already have gone over the schedule with the doctors. I can only work with you on certain days with minimal hours. Do you understand?”

Hongjoong: “It is not to my liking. I’d rather spend more time with you, darling. Get to know you better. Afterall, you’re going to learn about my dirty little secrets. Shouldn’t I know a few things?” He looks up and down at you, fixating his eyes on your pelvic area to your chest. You already feel disgusted, trying to cover yourself with your hands and his patient paperwork.

“I can tell we’re already off to a great start... Y/n.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong smut #kpop smut #ateez wooyoung #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez seonghwa #ateez series #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez fantasy au #ateez pirate au

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sunmoonjune · 1 year

Note

Would you agree that hyunjin is a type of bf who wears y/n's scrunchy or hairband because he wants to carry their scent wherever he goes? uwu

omg how did I know what clip this was before even clicking on the link xD tch hairband is iconic lol

and yes yes!! hyunjin is a bit of a brat, so he is def known for taking things of scm!reader's to keep their scent on him,, reader is also not the only one that gets stolen from -- they all wear each other's clothes whenever given the chance :)) hyunjin will steal shirts and sweaters any time he has the opportunity -- he really likes to keep your scent with him,, it feels like you're still with him even when you can't be at his side :'))

if you wear scrunchies in your hair, hyunjin is not above stealing them and putting them in his own hair :3

it probably goes something a little like this::

Drabble beneath the cut ;)) it gets a little suggestive so minors please dni

pairing: poly!stray kids x fem!reader (chan, Minho, hyunjin and Felix focused) [werewolf!au - petrichor!univese] [poly!skz]

warnings: suggestive content!! no minors pls! teasing, hand kink, Dom!chan, dom!minho, switch!hyunjin, a little choking, member x member relationships, cursing

"Hyunjin!" your disgruntled shout echoes through the pack house, causing said werewolf to lift his head from the phone in his hands. You sigh frustratedly when your rummaging hands can't locate a single hair tie, the drawer that usually houses the scrunchies empty and barren. Tucking some hair behind your ear in an effort to keep it away from your face, you desperately try to locate something to hold it back. Felix wants to bake with you today, and you don't want your hair in your way while you do so.

"Yeah, Pretty?"

Hyunjin's humming response comes from the door, just beginning to enter the room, beckoned by the call of his name. He likes making you mad - that brat. Something about the frustrated look on your face and the way you turn it towards him makes him all hot and bothered. A smirk begins to pull up the corner of his mouth as he leans his tall form against the doorway.

When you whip around to face your mate, you barely have time to take in the obnoxiously attractive way he's leaning against the doorframe. With his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips, your heart skips a beat as your chest begins to feel warm.

However, your eyes lock onto the rosy pink scrunchy pulling the top half of his hair away from his eyes before you look too close at Hyunjin's attractive form.

"Jinnie, my hair tie!" you huff, stepping forward into his body with a frown on your lips. "S'it you who keeps stealing them? I can't find anymore!"

Hyunjin chuckles, leaning down closer to your face and you feel your skin get hot as his full lips fill your vision. He uncrosses his arms to pull you close, hands grasping your hips and guiding them towards his own. When you wiggle a little in embarrassment, Hyunjin nearly tosses his head back with a groan. You're a little too close to be moving like that, and Hyunjin nearly leans down to sink his teeth into your neck to keep you still. His wolf snarls inside his mind, goading him into doing so.

"Yeah, s'me," Hyunjin giggles, pushing his head into your neck. He hugs you close, starting to rock back and forth a little as your hands come up into his hair. "I like the way you smell, Angel"

When your fingers delve into the strands of his soft hair, scratching once against his scalp, Hyunjin sighs contentedly. However, still frustrated at your lack of hair tie and now knowing the culprit, your fingers grasp the hair at his scalp and gently pull his head back by the strands.

Though you had not expected Hyunjin to nearly keen when you do so.

The taller man allows his mouth to fall open, a desperate sound escaping his lips as you pull his hair. His body is too hot all of the sudden – too close and far too attractive. Hyunjin's hands dig into your hips, anchoring you to his front as he pushes his own hips a fraction closer.

"Ngh," Hyunjin grunts, his pretty voice echoing through the room as heat fills your stomach. Your mouth parts, not expecting the sound to escape him.

Hyunjin's teeth push at his gums, aching to extend and scrape them against your skin. He can see the raised skin of Chan's mating mark at your throat, and Hyunjin longs to refresh his own - just a few inches lower, so close to the breasts he loves so much.

"Jinnie?!"

Hyunjin doesn't answer verbally this time, simply pushing his hips closer and allowing the stiffening of his pants to respond for him. His chest rumbles in some sort of low purr, his fangs pushing beyond his gums as his hands slide closer to your back side. Your scent fills his senses, and his wolf growls happily - content with the growing arousal of one of their mates.

This had not been what you were expecting when you were searching for your hair tie.

"S'going on in here?"

Minho's voice interrupts the moment, stepping into the room with a grin on his lips. He could feel the growing arousal of one of his mates through the bond, unable to resist the sweet temptation of joining you. His own smirk pulls at his lips as his eyes take in your forms, wrapped tightly around each other as Hyunjin keens.

Your hand is wrapped in Hyunjin's hair, pulling his head back as your mouth drops open the slightest in muted shock. Hips pushed together, Minho feels the bond surge as you realize who has entered the room. His arms crossed across his muscular chest, Minho stands at the door with an eyebrow raised in that cocky look that makes you weak in the knees.

"Minho..." you breathily murmur as Hyunjin's hands squeeze you tight. Feeling hot and tingly, you squirm against the taller's body as he moans.

"Ahh..." the older werewolf hums, stalking into the room with slow strides. His aura is overwhelming, the dominant pheromones obvious to Hyunjin as Minho grows closer. You only see his darkened eyes and salacious grin as he descends on the two of you. "I've got two disobedient puppies, don't I?"

You shy away from his heated look, feeling suddenly submissive under Minho's heavy-lidded gaze.

Hyunjin answers with a weak snarl, wrenching his head from your grip and burying his face into your neck. Beginning to press his soft lips to the skin of your throat, you feel your bond surge with heat as his teeth scrape against the skin. When he comes a little too close to Chan's mating mark, you know it's too late.

The bond between you and the Alpha swells, getting hot and setting your nerves alight. Minho seems to know, his smirk widening as he realizes he'll have a little help putting you and Hyunjin in your places.

"Are you asking to be punished, Pretty boy?" Minho purrs, now close enough to run a hand over Hyunjin's spine. He grins wolfishly, fangs flashing when Hyunjin shivers.

"Sure seems like it."

Chan.

The Alpha steps into the room, radiating dominance and making your skin hot as his eyes roam over your exposed skin and Hyunjin's grip on your hips. You wiggle again, feeling the stiffness at Hyunjin's thighs against you as you sigh breathily. Hyunjin keens again.

This time, Minho's hand grips Hyunjin by his hair, pulling the younger wolf away from your neck with a smirk. Chan descends on the two of you with a dark look in your eyes and you shiver. The Alpha hovers over you with a grin, his muscular form hulking and feeling hot as it comes so close to your skin.

"Yeah?" Chan murmurs, his hand sliding up your front as he takes Hyunjin's place at your front. When his strong hand wraps around your throat, his thumb pushing gently into your mouth and brushing against the bottom lip, you feel so weak under him. Legs nearly trembling and stomach feeling hot, you feel the space between your thighs dampen with arousal. Chan's eyes seem to darken even further when his heightened senses catch the scent.

"You wanna' be punished, sweet thing?" Chan purrs, pushing your head back a little so he can see the raised skin of his mating mark. His wolf snarls happily at the sight of it, looking shiny under the florescent lights. His stomach twists and his chest swells with pride as he turns to Minho with a grin. The two wolves meet eyes, silently agreeing on something as Minho begins to pull Hyunjin out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom.

Hyunjin grins, not expecting the outcome, but certainly happy with it. He follows Minho with a little yip as his lover grips his ass on the way out. Minho laughs, unreasonably attractive in that moment.

Your eyes are drawn back to Chan's dark ones. The Alpha is looking down at you with those heavy eyes and you feel so submissive beneath that lusty gaze. When your lips open to kiss his thumb, softly taking it between your teeth, Chan purrs.

"Yeah you do," Chan murmurs, beginning to pull you back towards the bedroom. "Fuck... my pretty baby."

It's only when Chan pushes you onto the bed, your form falling into Hyunjin's waiting shirtless arms, Minho at your back and beginning to pull away your shirt, does Felix enter the doorway with a shout.

"Hey! We were supposed to be baking!' his incredulous words reach your ears, body sandwiched between two wolves, the third already beginning to join you. It's hot and heavy and your head begins to feel dizzy as the bond swells and surges with arousal.

"Join us then!" Minho turns his head to purr.

Felix sighs with a roll of his eyes, already stepping forward to shut the door behind him. Chan laughs against your skin when Felix begins to pull his shirt off with a huff, sliding onto the bed with a huff.

"You guys are ridiculous - move over."

#moonie speaks #stormclouds at midnight #kingdom of night #monies hard hours #hyunjin x reader #minho x reader #poly!stray kids x reader #chan x reader #Felix x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids au

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tsumtsumrry · 1 year

Text

(based on an ask i got on my old acc)

warnings: mentions of cheating, language, angst (obviously)

AN: i can’t decide if this is too long or too short just please enjoy lol (i‘m a slut for feedback and reblogs btw)

“Ha-harry. Need to you pick me up.” Your voice was choppy, with the sobs you’re trying your best to suppress.

“Love? Wha’s happened?” his voice slurs a bit, and it sounds gravely from misuse, letting you know you woke him from his sleep. You feel a pang of guilt hit you and you just feel so miserable, like everything is your fault. You were hoping Harry could make it better, but being a burden to him just makes you feel worse.

“Just, just need you to pick me up. I swear I’ll explain e-everything, just please.” A sob finally breaks its way through and you hear rustling on the other line.

Harry’s heart is breaking listening to yours break like this, he asks for directions, speeding his way to you, breaking way too many traffic laws in the process. He just needs you to be okay, always needs you to be okay.

As soon as you see his car pull up and him running out of it you practically sprint him, collapsing into his arms.

“Precious, what’s—“ he’s distraught, panicked because what could have you acting like this. Sobbing in him arms on an abandoned street at nearly three A.M. in the morning.

“Please, please just take me home. Please, Harry.” you croak, your throat stinging with every word you have to force out.

For the most of the car ride you were in shock, not saying anything until you got to Harry’s house. You’re glad he took the hint that by home you meant home.

He his your home. Your best friend of at least ten years. You don’t remember a time where he wasn’t a constant. He’s everything to you.

It’s takes you a couple days of staying at Harry’s house in comfortable/uncomfortable silence for you to break down and tell him everything.

The look on his face, when he figured it out, before you even said anything, you’d never seen such pain, anguish, and fury. And the fact that you were causing all of it only made you feel worse.

Your fiancé of two years, with another woman. You’ve never been so fucking crushed. You felt like you were worth nothing, what had you done wrong? How could you be so unlovable?

He knew you like the back his hand though, and he could tell exactly the dark places your mind was going.

“Precious, none of this is your fault, I need you to look me in my eyes and tell me you believe that.”

You just blinked at him, with your lower lip wobbling and eyebrows crinkling in pain.

He never fucking liked him, knew he was a piece of shit. He wants to put him fucking six feet under for what he did to you, but right now, you’re the priority.

“Precious…” he breathes out and his voice sounds so full of pain and heartbreak, he pulls you into his arms and holds you until you fall asleep, kissing your head and rocking you back and forth softly.

“Didn’t deserve this. Didn’t fuckin’ deserve this.” he whispers under his breath once he knows you’re asleep.

It took you a while to heal, but you’re still taking one day at a time. Harry has helped you through it, letting you cry with him, always coming to you the second you needed it. And with all this growth, you felt you were ready, ready to get back out there. Start dating again. You’ve decided you can’t let what he did to you ruin your self esteem for the rest of your life.

“So what do you think?” you ask Harry, holding your chopsticks in your hand. He’s typing on his computer, barely paying attention to you.

“Harry.”

“Hmm, precious?”

“What do you think about Shawn?” you say for the second (or maybe third) time today.

All at once the annoying clicking sound of the keyboard stops and Harry’s intense jade eyes are boring into yours, “Shawn? Shawn Rivers?”

“Yeah.” you smile, getting a little bashful, “met him at that coffee shop we always go too. He’s cute and he asked me out so I think I’m gonna go…what do you think?” you say that last part cautiously, your eyes assessing his reaction as best as you can while most of his face is hidden behind a large computer.

He’s gotten a little more protective of you since last year, which is understandable, but if you can move on you figure he can too. Right?

The typing starts back up, only slower and you frown.

“Harry?”

“Hmm.”

“What do you think?” You swear if you have the repeat that sentence again you’re gonna explode.

He just shrugs, his typing becoming faster and more forceful, your eyes flick down to how his arms and from what you can see, there’s a faint vein.

“Harry c’mon I really need your opinion on this.” You whine, truly not understanding why he’s being this way.

“Don’t think you want my opinion, love.” his tone has a bite to it that you aren’t fond of, your frown deepens.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say cautiously, you’re choosing your words carefully. You’ve never been a big fan of confrontation, especially with those that you care so deeply about.

“I know Shawn, he used to work with me, just don’t think he’s right for you.” he says with a tone of finality.

Your face wears bewilderment, and you look up to see his face, still hard and still concentrated on the computer. He looks absolutely emotionless.

“Not right for me?” you scoff, “and how exactly would you know?”

He looks up from his computer screen, pausing his typing, “I know you and I know him. Simple.”

To you Harry looks emotionless, but under all that he’s seething, but not with anger, with panic and heartache. He had just figured out that he loved you, literally just yesterday. He was working up to courage to say something and then you come in here and tell him you’re ready to start dating other people? No way.

“Well maybe you’re wrong about him.” you say defensively, though your defense is hardly strong with the way your voice wavers.

“Well fuck, I was right about the last one wasn’t I?”

You freeze. What?

Harry’s heart drops as soon as the words leave his lips and as soon as he sees the look on your face.

The shock, the pain, he never wanted to be the one to make you feel this way, never wanted to be on the list of people who’s hurt you.

“Precious…precious I didn’t mean—“

“Leave.” you croak out. Your heart is shattered. Never in your life could you ever think that Harry would say anything like this to you.

“No please, let me—“

“I want you to leave Harry. Please.” your lifeline. The one person you depended on, and you can’t even look him in the eye.

He knows how much what happened affected you, and just to throw back in your face like that? For what?

He takes a step towards you, extending his arm but his heart breaks when you take a step back. You hate that you know him so well, that you can read his eyes, because you can see when the pain flashes in them.

“Precious, please we can sit and talk, you know I would neve—I-I didn’t mean it.”

“Leave, leave, leave.” you mutter, losing your patience.

“Okay, okay. I’m gonna leave, alright? But I’m gonna call you. Is that okay?” you just stare blankly at the floor. “Precious?”

You wish he’d stop calling you that.

When he realizes you’re not gonna give him an answer he slowly picks up his stuff, you here a sniffle but don’t dare to look up, not wanting to see the tears in his eyes.

“I love you, alright? Love you so much. Please, please answer my call.” and with that he leaves.

You immediately burst into tears, your hands shaking and your breath shortening.

How could he say that to you?

Harry calls you a total of eight times before he finally gets the hint that you aren’t gonna answer. You sat by your phone and watched every time his face popped up on your screen with tears streaming down your face.

Maybe you’re overreacting? Surely he didn’t mean it.

H : Precious, you have no idea how sorry I am. You know I would never purposely use your pain against you. Please answer. H

You note that there’s no “xx” after the message.

“Preci-“ He cuts himself and yells your name. You chose the perfect day to go to your favorite coffee shop, there he was, in all his glory.

“Hi.” you mumble, looking shaken.

“Hey.” he breathes out, just in awe that you’re actually in front of him. His pretty girl, god he missed you so much.

“Can we…um talk?” you surprise him by asking. You can see the relief in his eyes, the way they practically well up with tears.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d…like that. Thank you.”

“Why’d you say it?” you immediately blurt out the second you guys are sat down not-so-comfortable on your couch.

How does he even begin to explain that to you?

“I d-dunno to be honest. I was obviously being a dick. I didn’t know what I was saying, a-and that’s not an excuse but I—“

“Did you mean it?”

“No—No of course not. Could never mean—“

“Okay.”

“Okay?

“Okay. I um—just need some time. Sorry.” you mumble.

“Don’ have to apologize fo’ that, love.” his accent is so thick with all the emotion in his voice and it brings on a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“Can I hug you?” he croaks out, “I know I don’ deserve it but I missed you so much and—and I didn’ know if you were okay. Was worried sick I just—I”

You cut him off by pulling him into your arms. Feeling him try to hold back his sobs against your chest your heart breaks, you just wanna keep him in your arms forever but you can’t deny that what he said really hurt you.

“Sorry” he wipes his nose and detaches from you “I’ll see you. I love you.” he rushes out his words, sounding like he’s about to break down and before you can even blink he’s out of the house.

The pain in his voice wrecks you, and you’d honestly do anything to make it go away, but you need to work through your pain first.

It’s a week before you call him. You wanted to do it earlier, but you had your phone in your hand hovering over his contact, chickening out every time you got close.

You processed your emotions, talked it out with him, and you think you actually got somewhere.

Harry told you why he said what he said, and that conversation ending in tears. You not believing he was actually in love with you and him not believing he actually got it off his chest.

What he said still hurt you, but you understand how his pain turned into irrationality.

You can’t believe it but it feels like everything’s fallen into place.

“Hi, Precious.” he smiles softly at you, reaching over to hold your hand across the table, “missed you.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry writing #old

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evanbegins · 3 months

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tease tidbit tuesday 🍦

tagged by the lovely @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @tizniz and @diazsdimples (who posted a new fic!) thank you all so much ❤️

so, for recent news; obviously, i posted the first chapter of kittyplay! i'm currently rewriting the sex scene thanks to input from my beloved friend.. LOL but anyway! i've gotten a few more wips under my belt (adonis eddie/greek mythology loving buck century after century? hell yeah!), but i've also been working on a bit of a silly wip! so..

here it is:

Buck walks into Eddie’s house, right through the front door and accidentally knocking the doorknob into the wall, gleefully calling out, “Hello!”

He’s precariously balancing two tubs of icecream, his car keys, and his phone on one hand, letting go with the other so he could open the door wide open. Eddie left it unlocked for him, just because he’s sweet like that, something that Buck immensely appreciates. He has two different flavours. One is Christopher’s favourite, cookie dough with extra chunks in it because Christopher likes having a lot of them. The other is Eddie’s favourite, mint chocolate chip with larger bits of chocolate scattered throughout it. Buck finds it gross, but if Eddie likes it, he can tolerate it. He’ll just mooch off of Christopher’s icecream. Kid doesn’t need that much sugar anyway.

Tonight’s one of Buck’s favourite nights, though. Eddie and Christopher’s, too. Movie night.

Movie night is a Friday night tradition in the Diaz family household. It’s something that’s been consistent since their almost six years of friendship (God, has it really been nearly six years?). Not even a strain in their friendship could stop Buck from driving his jeep over, passenger seat full of icecream or takeout, watching whatever movie Christopher decides they should watch that night. It’s always family friendly, and sometimes Christopher repeats the same one for a few movie nights in a row, but it’s something fun regardless.

Sure, there was that one time they watched Finding Nemo for about five Fridays straight. It wasn’t too bad, even if Eddie would complain to Buck that he could probably act out and recite the entire movie by memory at that point. He was lying, anyway. Eddie fell asleep like — fifteen minutes into Movie night on the third Friday they were watching it. His head just.. lulled backwards and everything.

He even snored! Snored, during movie night!

That’s not the point Buck is trying to make, though. He’s mostly just trying to emphasize how excited he is for movie night today. Icecream! No school for Christopher! Chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast tomorrow morning? Not something he can pass up, that’s for sure.

tags: @thosetwofirefighters @elvensorceress @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @nmcggg @loserdiaz @queerdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @gibuckaroo

.. and whoever else wants to do it! feel feee to tag me!

#this wip is probably my silliest one to be honest #icecream is SUCH a staple for their movie nights #tease tidbit tuesday #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #9 1 1 show #9 1 1 fox #9 1 1 on abc #buddie #9 1 1 on fox #9 1 1 tv #buck x eddie #buddie fic

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miller-n-morgan · 19 days

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And I Feel Fine (.iii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: The injury has sustained itself into something bigger than a flesh wound, and is wreaking havoc on all three of you. Luckily, Ellie manages to find a helpful tool, but you're almost certain it did not come from a safe resource.

Warnings: this one is sad and fluffy at the same time. canon typical violence, blood, gore, shooting, and gun violence. mentions of teenage pregnancy and birth. more angst and backstory but also some sweet moment with both Joel and Ellie at different points.

Word Count: 9.1k (she's long as hell today)

greetings darlings!! I come to you with another part of the hellscape that is my TLOU series. I know that there's been some slightly mixed feelings on reader having descriptives but to be fair I never actually describe the way modern day reader looks (other than that ellie bears strong resemblance to her) the only reason I make the connections of ellie being the reader's mini me, is just because she's supposed to be her mom. Also, this is a little self indulgent because i myself do look significantly like ellie so this is mainly for me lol

“Ellie?” You sprung to your feet, meeting her where she was and watching several men crowding the street outside. “What the fuck did you do?” “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, trying to slow herself down before rambling. “I didn’t think they would follow me. I had to get Joel’s medi-” “Get down!” You shouted, shoving her shoulder. You watched to make sure they didn’t see you, but looking at their numbers, it wasn’t going to be an easy fight, and there would be a fight. They were searching the houses on the block. “Must’ve caught the horse prints.”

It’s cold, it’s moist, and it’s just about the most uncomfortable place you’ve hunkered down in over the span of your life. But it’s safe, and it’s sheltered from the snow.

The basement of the biggest house on the street, Maple Drive, you think it’s called. It was probably the most sought after house in the neighborhood back in its heyday, standing tall and beautiful at the end of the cul de sac.

You were freezing your ass off, unable to sleep in your current condition, but not darling to change it right now. You’d given your heaviest jacket to Joel, who needed all the layers he could get to stay warm. You’d been out in the sun this morning, soaking up as much heat as it would allow in the midst of the new onset of cold weather.

Ellie was devastated. You knew that the closest thing she had to family was Joel, and you couldn’t do anything to console her about his injuries or the fact that his wound had gotten infected and he was on the downward spiral of non recovery.

“You take her, get to the fireflies and make sure she’s safe,” he’d told you, whispering it quietly in his state of weakness as you dragged him into the basement. He was referring to the second lab location you all had found before the attack.

“I can’t.”

“Don’t stay here on my account, you’ll be fine…”

“No, Joel, I actually can’t. I don’t know where to go or what to do,” you tried not to sass him for the fact that his life could be ending, but you wanted him to know that this wasn’t just some self righteous stance of sticking by him. You were legitimately lost without him.

“Get Tommy to-”

“If I go back to Tommy it means you’re dead.”

And the conversation was left at that. He had barely spoken a full sentence since then.

“Are you asleep?” you heard a soft whisper pipe up from next to Joel…

“Do I look asleep?” You asked, eyes wide open and sitting straight up against the wall. There wasn’t much light except for the small solar lantern in the room, but you still didn’t exactly look to be resting peacefully. You were shivering in the cold, arms wrapped around yourself, and you supposed that the temperature was having an affect on your attitude.

“It was just a question, asshole,” she muttered, and you softened immediately.

“I’m sorry, it’s just freezing,” you laughed out, nearly seeing the puff of air expelled from your mouth in the air around you. “Can’t sleep?”

“Guess not,” she sat up, scooting her way closer to you so she wouldn’t have to be as quiet around Joel. He hadn’t woken up for an entire day, you doubted her voice would stir him now.

It was silent for a while, neither of you said a word, just content to keep your eyes on the steady rise and fall of Joel’s chest on the singular mattress in the room. You’d lugged it from the twin bed upstairs, the only one that actually had a mattress anymore.

“What do we do if he dies?” She asked, her tone flat and even as if she were asking you what she should eat from the rations. It shocked you how plain she sounded about it, but tried to shake your thoughts away and answer.

“I don’t know… I guess I take you back to Tommy, see if he can help us find the other lab.”

She nodded, understanding that with the days passing, and nothing changing, the future was looking grim, and she might have to say goodbye to her companion.

“I’d wanna bury him first,” she breathed out, more emotion falling into her words now knowing what the ultimate plan would be incase of his demise. “We’ve been through some shit.”

You sighed out, the urge to grab her hand was strong, but you denied it, shaking your head slightly before thinking of some words to make her feel better. Even after everything, you still didn’t feel like you could touch her, take her hand, let her be real to you.

“I get it. Before I joined the fireflies I had a friend I traveled with. She got infected and I-” you cut yourself off, feeling the weight of your sentence seep in. Maybe you shouldn’t be using this as a pick me up. “Anyways… I couldn’t leave her, so I put her in an old truck we used to hide in, decorated it with wild flowers. We could do the same for him.”

Her nodding along was a sad sight to see. You didn’t want her to just be taking this to heart, knowing he’s going to die. He might live, he might get better and then you can all go to Salt Lake City before returning home to Jackson.

“Don’t give up on him, though. He’s a fighter.”

“I know it, old man’s been through hell just to get here. Would be a shame if he died now to a lousy infection,” she joked. You smiled, tossing another glance to the man beneath the winter layers and sleeping bag.

Why would a man like that go through all of this? Why would he put himself in harm’s way for a girl he met as cargo? And what did the receiving end even want with her? You had some theories, based on your own experience, based on what happened to you.

“You must be pretty important to the fireflies to warrant this kind of cross country trip.”

She chuckled under her breath, a tenseness spread over her shoulders before you spit out your next words.

“You’re immune, aren’t you?”

“What?”

She freaked out immediately, because as far as she knows, Joel didn’t tell you, and neither did she.

“Why would you think that? I haven’t even-”

“You were bitten,” you cut her off, unwilling to sit by and hear her diversions. “I saw it a few weeks ago down by that stream.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared blankly. You’d known and you hadn’t told her? But wait, you hadn’t specified what you’d seen… she doesn’t recall…

“You weren’t there by the stream. You rode ahead to the gas station to find supplies… Did Joel tell you?” She asked, her stare more pointed this time as she leaned forward as if to interrogate.

You didn’t say anything back for a moment, just shook your head. If you told her how you knew, you were going to have to spill a lot more than just ‘I saw your bites.’

“Where was I bitten?” She demanded, but you couldn’t answer. You didn’t actually know. You could take a guess and say the leg or the hand, given those are two common bite sites you have seen often in the past… but you can’t be sure.

“I don’t know. And no, Joel didn’t tell me,” you could have just thrown him under the bus, said that he did… He might die, and your secret would follow with him. But you didn’t want to lie to her. She seemed to trust you, and you would hate to break that small bond you’d begun to form.

“Then how did you know?”

You huffed a sigh, followed by a trail of your eyeline that looked at literally everything else in the room before landing on her. Your ‘mini me.’ She hadn’t noticed your resemblance to her, but to be fair, everyone else had to have it pointed out to them, because to be clear, the chances of her actually being your daughter were so slim at first glance.

“You’re immune, because I’m immune…”

And after a few seconds of trying to let your words sink in, she was still utterly confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got some weird voo-doo shit goin’ on or something?” She was being her regular sassy and sarcastic self, but in all actuality it started to dawn on her that there was only one reason you would be bringing this up.

“Ellie,” you let out a breath. No, but voo-doo shit sounds far more creative.

She backed away from you and toward Joel, but she didn’t try to leave, or even to take her eyes away from your compassionate stare.

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes were wide and full of something akin to fear… but not towards you. “Are you trying to tell me you’re my fucking mom?”

You didn’t know what to say. By now the cold had worn off from your body, whether or not it was from the adrenaline of telling her, you weren’t sure, but you were set in the heat of the moment for now.

“Look,” you started, your voice a little bit raised and on edge. Ellie was a spitfire, you didn’t want her to interrupt or shut you down before you could finish. “Don’t go crazy, alright? You might not be…”

“I can’t be! You’re like, twenty… you would have had to have me when you were a kid,” she argued, her arms flailing for emphasis. The worst part in her mind was that she didn’t disagree with your belief, she just didn’t know how to process it, didn’t think she could justify it. What are the fucking odds, too?

“I was fourteen…” you trailed. You didn’t have the will to say anything else yet. You almost wanted to joke, to thank her for the compliment on how young you looked… but that wouldn’t help anything, and this was something serious.

She was sat in silence for the moment, and you took the time to explain.

“I was on my own, and I was a kid… and I gave up a baby in Boston around the time you were born. At that age I looked a hell of a lot like you.”

Her hands balled into fists but there was no anger in them, just the pent up energy from this exchange that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

“So you think I was the baby? How can you be sure?” she asked, leaning in towards you again but not scooting back to her original position yet. It was like a sly fox tiptoeing around thin ice.

“Ellie, how many kids your age in Boston are immune?”

She sighed out, her eyes dropping to her feet in front of her. You really shouldn’t be so lousy with your attitude towards her. This had gotta be ten times harder for her than it is for you.

“This really sucks…”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, understanding how this must be to take. She didn’t want you as her mother, why would she? She doesn’t barely know you except for bits and pieces of what you’re willing to say. “If it’s easier not to believe it, then by all means-”

“No, I believe it. That’s what sucks. I went my entire life thinking my mom was dead.”

The realization dawning that perhaps she did want you to be her mom was even worse, because you weren’t there for her when she needed you.

“Oh,” you breathed out, finally reaching for her hand and feeling comfortable to do so “Ellie…”

“I didn’t even think twice about the fact that she could be out there, much less that I could ever know her,” she sighed out. Wetness filled her eyes but she’d expressed before how tough and brave she was, and you knew she wouldn’t let a tear fall. She did however let her hand remain in yours.

“I came looking for you, y’know? When I was seventeen, my friend and I… we both went back to Boston. The people I left you with, I don’t know what happened to them, but they weren’t there and neither were you. Figured I was just grasping at straws going back in the first place.”

“You… wanted me?” She was almost flabbergasted at the thought. No one has wanted her in her entire life.

“Of course I did… I was too young in the beginning, couldn’t barely take care of myself. But I wanted you. I cried like hell the night I left, and you did too.” The explanation brought back memories. Things you thought were buried in the crevice of your mind floated back. You were a shell of a human when you left the Boston QZ.

Things were quiet after you spoke. She nodded, not able to meet your eyes. Maybe all of this is for a reason. You wanted her, and you finally found her again. You being at the dam that day was no coincidence.

“When did you know? That I was her?”

The chuckle that left you was flattened, but you had to laugh at her question a bit. She probably didn’t put the pieces together of your first encounter.

“First day I saw you… I froze like a deer in headlights, thought I was seeing my past self. Had myself thinking you were here to taunt me, or make me atone for my actions or whatever.” You thought it sounded stupid, now. Maybe you’d just had that assumption because until you met Tommy, your life had been a shithole, and it continuing to be a shithole would make sense.

“So when you said I reminded you of someone…” She trailed, recalling the dialogue.

“You reminded me of you. I just didn’t want to believe it could be you,” you told her, the tilt of your head helping to indicate your tone. She laughed, giving you a sideways smirk…

“I guess I probably scared you pretty good, huh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. She was indeed your kid, as much as one could be. You’d known from that first feeling, seeing her face… but after all the evidence was stacked up to this point, you had absolutely no doubts.

You shivered again in the cold, and she took notice, scooting back beside you and leaning a delicate head on your shoulder. You almost winced at the sudden contact, because you didn't expect this physical closeness.

“Is this okay?” She asked, noticing your hesitancy towards her.

You tried to relax, to feel the added warmth against the cold, and let her grab a gentle hold of your arm into hers. As if it were a pillow or stuffed animal.

“More than okay, Ellie.”

Joel was going to die. You could feel it.

Ellie had been wanting to try her hand at hunting since Joel showed her how to last month, but he never let her go by herself, always just taking the lead and letting her watch.

Today, you awoke to the various grunting sounds of Joel Miller, and it scared you half to death. His pain is taking him over and the infection is spreading too fast. Without antibiotics to clear his system, he’ll be gone in a few hours.

You decide that for everyone involved, it’s best if Ellie doesn’t sit in this room with you and watch her companion die. So you send her hunting, and she almost seems excited. Her attitude towards you, although pretty good from the beginning, was like that of an actual daughter to her mother. She still called you by your name, of course, and you felt that maybe you weren’t exactly ready to be called ‘mom’ anyway.

She left with a hop in her step, and the promise to stay close to the neighborhood.

You waited until you heard the trotting of a horse before you returned to tending over Joel. You checked the main laceration on the side of his stomach, nose scrunching just at the sight of it. The purple threads of infection that coiled into a ball at the dead center, the terribly stitched up entry wound that had finally begun to scar over.

He had stirred from his sleep just barely, his eyes not opening, but quiet mumbles falling from his lips. You don’t understand what he’s saying at first, but you see him shaking subtly. He’s cold… of course he is. It’s gotta be ten below zero, and all he’s got to keep himself warm is the lousy jacket he’s been traveling with, and a cheap sleeping bag.

You lift up the padded material, slipping beneath it and laying next to him. This isn’t ideal. You’ve been beside far too many people when they take their dying breath… but this man had come so far, only to die now when he hadn’t seen his journey through. Survival and mission are two different things. He was never going to fulfill his duty to Ellie, never going to get her to the fireflies. If he was going to go out now, he deserved to die warm, and in the comfort of someone’s embrace. He shouldn’t be alone.

“Y-you’re…” he struggled to speak, his weakness almost completely consuming him.

“Don’t talk, just rest,” you tried to reason with him, but he let out a heavy breath. He knows, he feels it too.

“S’almost t-time,” he got out, before he had to even his breathing again. Almost time, and he feels every breath get shallower. “I’m dyin’...”

In normal circumstances, you wouldn’t want to scare someone by agreeing with them… but this man doesn’t seem to fear death, he just seems to wish it had waited longer. He wishes it had given him a little more time to help Ellie. Ellie… she was going to be torn apart.

“Yeah,” you nodded, placing a hand on his flannel and letting your fingers fiddle with the buttons so that you can’t get too wound up in emotion. This man is dying beside you, like many in your past… and you can’t stop it.

“Don’t gotta…” he ran out of breath before he even finished the thought. He had to inhale again just to get the words out. “Don’t gotta stay with me.”

You looked at him, eyes still closed and color draining from his cheeks. Any minute now.

“It ain’t right to die alone,” you told him, finally feeling your eyes fog over.

You’d liked him. He was a good man, reminded you of Tommy, but older, maybe a bit more stern and protective… Joel Miller had been the kindest grump you’d ever met. He was lethal, but he was also something else. A family man. Maybe in his life before the outbreak he had a wife and kids. Maybe he used to take his kids to school before going to work, later returning with his lovely wife and they would all have dinner together. It’s how your family was, your mother and father and brother and sister. You’d longed for that sense of family again ever since you lost it. Joel had been the first person that made you feel like that sort of thing even still existed.

“I’m gonna stay right here,” you told him straight, voice a bit shaky but unbroken.

“Alright,” he breathed, his consciousness fading in and out. He finally gave in and let himself sleep. He knew he’ll probably never wake up.

You check his breath and pulse every few minutes. They feel weaker each time, but he’s still holding on. His chest still rises and falls every few seconds, and his heart still beats. It gets to the point where you just lay your palm flat over his chest, feeling each thump, slow, fading, but not gone.

Ellie returned less than an hour later… and you’re surprised.

“Hey,” she called from the corner of the room, holding a small pouch in her hand… she found something, and it didn’t look like food.

You rolled over, sitting up and slipping away from Joel to see what she had brought back.

“...Hey?” you looked at her, then to the pouch in her hands.

“Getting cozy, huh?” she lifted a brow to you, and you rolled your eyes.

“He was cold,” you take the pouch from her hands, beginning to open it up and take out the contents.

“Sure,” she scoffed, kneeling down by him, checking to make sure he hadn’t keeled over yet. He was barely hanging on. You’d failed to keep her out of here when he passed, but maybe she needed to be with him.

“He was,” you looked down at what you took out of the small bag… “Ellie,” looked back at her… “Where the fuck did you find this?”

“Oh,” she paused, scrambling for words, but struggled to find them. Already you were filling the syringe with the fluid, trying your best to remember what regular doses of penicillin would look like. You think you drew too much, but to be fair, he probably needed it. “I found it.”

“What do you mean you found it?” She had to be bullshitting you. This stuff was impossible to find, not to mention you’ve searched every house on this block and the next over the past few weeks, trying to find anything that could help him. “This stuff doesn’t grow on trees.”

You knelt down and found a suitable entry point on his skin, flicking the needle to get the air to the top.

“It was in a cabin a few blocks away,” she shrugged, watching your movements with intensity.

“You better be telling me the truth right now, I swear,” you shook your head, knowing that if she stole it off of a passing stranger, it might bite you in the ass.

“I am,” she said, but then refused to look you in the eye. Maybe she was lying, maybe she wasn’t. It didn’t matter right now. You injected the needle into Joel’s skin, pushing the plunge on the syringe just slow enough to watch for a hematoma. “How do you even know how to do this?”

Her subject change was to avoid more questioning, but you didn’t catch that detail.

“I used to watch House with my dad…” You chuckled, your focus never broken until the entirety of the dose was injected. You wiped the entry poke when you removed the needle, letting his shirt cover it all when you were finished.

“You watched- wait what?”

“It was a show about doctors,” you explained, putting the needle and the medicine back in the pouch they came in. It was a very dramatic and very interesting show about doctors, and truth be told, you barely remember it. “Last season aired about a year before outbreak day. If I ever find a DVD box set, we can watch it. Tommy found me a blu-ray player a few years back.”

“I’m gonna pretend to know what all of those things are.”

You nudged her in the arm, laughing and thinking and letting your mind escape you. Just minutes ago you were frightened Joel was going to die. Now you have hope he’ll live, and that after this journey is over, you’ll all return to Jackson and become a tight knit unit. You know already. You have two spare bedrooms in your house, and a bungalow in your backyard. They could settle themselves however they wanted… and you’d finally have someone to come home to everyday. You’d have people that you cared about that would fill the dull air in the quiet house you lived in. They could help you finally make it a home.

Joel would probably be the new handy man of the commune, since old Ricky Thompson was getting way too elderly to wear that title. You’re sure he’d be helpful, as it’s just in his nature.

Ellie would be friends with Kat, you think… They have complimentary personalities, and they both seem to like comic books. She’s also around the same age as Robin’s kid Jesse, you’re pretty sure. He’s a sweet boy, although a little rambunctious. Just like Ellie.

You let these thoughts circle your mind as you lay back down beside Joel, Ellie doing the same on his other side. It’s not quite late enough to sleep, but you find yourself drifting off, anyway.

You were wailing and crying your eyes out, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and quell the screams. It hurts so bad, and the contractions are so close together… you don’t have a shot. This baby is coming within the hour.

Your eyes shot over when you heard the lock on the front door being undone. You were so thankful, to know that in your time of need, God hadn’t completely abandoned you. Maxine dropped everything in the entryway as soon as she saw your state… the rations she’d just traded for were spilling out over the sacks against the door which she threw shut.

“How long has it been?” Was her first question. Asking what happened would clearly be a dumb thing to do.

“Three hours,” you said, leaning forward and breathing the best you could. “It's getting worse.”

“Those are your contractions, remember I told you about the timing?”

“Yeah, they’re close… I don’t know what to do.”

“Shit,” she muttered, which had to have been the first curse word you’ve heard from this woman. She was so clean cut and down to earth, not a swear in sight… But these were trying circumstances. “I have to move you.”

You nodded, grabbing her outstretched hand and letting her tug you to your feet.

She set you up onto the couch where you’d been sleeping, helping you out of the baggy men’s shorts you’d been doomed to wear since you got here. They were the only thing that fit comfortably around your stomach, ever since you ditched the dingy old jeans that had been too tight to button or zip.

She went and knelt down by the bags against the door, pulling out the disclosed black t-shirt full of items that were harder to come by. She must have traded with some slightly shadier people in order to get rubber gloves of all things. She also had a mini bottle of antiseptic liquid, and some plastic pads that she placed beneath your bottom. She ran to her bathroom and pulled two dark towels from the racks, hoping they would be able to hide the stains that were about to be made.

You started shrieking again, trying to muffle your face to the side and let the noise be absorbed by the cushion next to you.

Maxine checked the time, clocking in the contraction at a half minute since the last. Too close… She just hoped you’re dilated enough.

“On my count you gotta push, and it’s gonna hurt like hell,” she told you, placing your feet in a way that would make the angle easier. “You’ll be tired and feel like stopping but you can’t.”

“I just want em’ out,” you cried, throwing your head back. The sweat dripping from your forehead ran back into your hairline, and you felt the cool air over the wetness a moment later. You closed your eyes, hoping for peace to overtake you, but it never came.

Your eyes shot open when you heard the faintest sound of voices outside. You’d become a light sleeper over the years, your senses being dialed to eleven for all the years you spent on your own, or in the company of people you didn’t trust.

Ellie was already awake, cursing under her breath as she was perched on top of a cabinet, looking to the outside window from the basement’s corner.

“Ellie?” You sprung to your feet, meeting her where she was and watching several men crowding the street outside. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, trying to slow herself down before rambling. “I didn’t think they would follow me. I had to get Joel’s medi-”

“Get down!” You shouted, shoving her shoulder. You watched to make sure they didn’t see you, but looking at their numbers, it wasn’t going to be an easy fight, and there would be a fight. They were searching the houses on the block. “Must’ve caught the horse prints.”

“We have to get them away from Joel,” she muttered, her entire body shaking from anxiety of what she’d done. She was careless to think the snow would cover the horse’s tracks. It hadn’t snowed heavily enough in the past week, so it wasn't going to start up now.

“Alright, let me think.”

It was a bad idea, but looking back at Joel, you only had one option.

“You ride out on Joel’s horse. He won’t buck you and can probably get you further than Casper. I’ll try and sneak around the block and lead them to the houses across the street. If I can, I’m gonna shoot em’ down.”

“Where should I go? I can’t ride around forever…”

“Just keep riding until I come to find you. If I can take them out, we can come back and move Joel tonight.”

She didn’t like the idea of moving him, but so far, things weren’t looking good right now, and if these assholes followed her here, they would come back and finish their sweep, probably bring more men as backup.

“...Okay.”

She got a move on, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder before heading to the garage.

You helped her adjust the saddle bags, making sure she had food incase you were separated for longer than a few hours.

“Be careful, stay alert… and try to keep your head down. I’ll cover you.”

She nodded, and you slowly and quietly opened the garage door.

She left one way, and you left another, giving each other a final glance before going separate ways.

This was a terrible idea. Putting a child… much less your child, in harm’s way like this was probably one thing that would never be taught in a parenting book. But it’s not like you had access to one anyway. You just had to make things up as you go.

You were able to get to the second yard over, making way for the third when you heard yelling and gunshots. You hopped the fence, taking your gun and shooting straight at whoever else had a weapon. You saw Ellie take off down the road, men chasing her as she went. You’d managed to take down three attackers so far, but it wasn’t doing you any favors so far, as they sprouted up like ants from a dirt hill.

You were barely missed by some incoming fire, the men finally growing enough brains to realize that you were now the threat, and not the teenage girl riding away on a horse… although she had also taken down a few men.

Ellie was out of sight to you, but you kept running in her direction, wanting to protect her however you could. You had hoped they wouldn’t see her right away, and maybe just follow the tracks that her horse was making… but nothing ever went according to plan.

You weren’t sure where you were going, but when another man came into view, you took aim and pulled the trigger. Again, and again, and again… it had been a while since you’d killed a person who wasn’t infected. It came back all too easily.

You’d been walking for hours it seemed, following the footprints and noticing that Ellie’s ended after a certain building. Now you were following large and heavy footsteps, the marks leading you to believe the men were carrying her somewhere.

For everything that you would allow to happen, letting her go through what you did at that age was not one of them. She may not be innocent, but that sort of bodily torture never leaves a person, even years after its over with. You have yet to really recover from everything, and it stands to reason that you’ve never had a partner since… but you won’t let it happen to Ellie.

Even though you can’t feel your fingers, and the gun in your hands feels like ice, you refuse to lower it as you trek quickly over the snow. You will find her, and you will save her. You should have probably gone back to the house to get more rounds or to add a layer to your body… but you can’t waste the time.

She needs you, and for the first time in her life, you are going to be there. You are going to start making amends for every lost year that ever passed you by. Every day and every hour that you missed in her life. Her first steps, her first words, and everything after.

When you found that the footsteps lead up to a door in a secluded town area, you looked around, scanning the surroundings before trying to enter the establishment… except it was conveniently locked, and the windows were too high to reach, even if you could break them.

You started circling the place, looking for another entrance point, when gunshots could be heard firing at you. You ran back towards the forest, trying to grab cover, but you winced in pain, feeling the searing affliction of a bullet hitting you in the leg. You bit your sleeve to try and relieve some of the pain, but it was too prominent to feel anything else. You immediately pulled your belt from your hips, securing it as best you could around your leg before looking at the damage. The bullet had gone through, so you’re almost sure there won’t be any permanent damage.

The undershirt you have on is torn on the bottom, and you use the sloppy piece of fabric to wrap up the entry and exit point, trying to stop the blood. The good thing about the cold weather is it will speed up your coagulation.

The bullets are still firing from behind you, but they seem to have lost your movement. So you chance a look at the area and see a single man trying to snipe you out from a rooftop. You can see him but he doesn’t see you, so you point and shoot, three shots leaving your gun before he fell from his bird’s nest view and his head splattered onto the concrete ground.

It’s hard to walk, so you take a few moments to recuperate before you even attempt to move on… little do you know that one of your travel companions is slowly making his way through the forest to find you and Ellie, after he brutally and mercilessly tortured answers out of the stragglers in the neighborhood.

“I can’t do this,” you cried, looking down at Maxine with tears completely clouding your eyes. You could barely make out the shape of her, much less your own body and what you were trying to do. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, and you have to,” she nearly scolded you, realizing that though this is hard, it will be worse if you give up.

You’re exhausted, and you’re worn. Your body hurts like hell and the anguish this kid is putting you through feels like it’s going to last an eternity.

“It’s so hard,” you tried to reason, but it wasn’t going to get you far. It’s not like she could just magically give into your requests and bring everything to a halt.

“I know, trust me I do… but you don’t have a choice, you have to keep pushing,” she went on about the encouragement but nothing she said or did could soothe you into serenity. Nothing could calm your nerves or the aching between your legs as you were on the verge of a new life.

This baby was about to take breaths for the first time. About to cry and wail and break your heart into a thousand little pieces before putting it back together with every glance.

You wondered for a long time if you should even hold them, or look at them. You knew it might be too hard to leave after that. It would be too hard to say goodbye. You wanted least of all things to go back into the world without your little bundle, the life you carried for nine months and four days.

You tucked your chin to your chest, biting the inside of your mouth while breathing heavily through your nose. You beared down into your lower abdomen as much as you could, contracting the muscles needed in order to push. You gave it everything you had, and you instantly felt when everything pulled back into place and the pain started melting away.

The sound of a little cry and shallow breaths filled your ears before you could even look.

“All done, you did it,” she praised, her eyes unable to meet yours as she kept them downwards to the newly born baby in her hands. “She’s gorgeous…”

“She?”

You garnered the strength to look, and there she was. Perfect, and healthy, and the most beautiful thing you’d seen in your fourteen years of life. You nearly froze, but she saw the awestruck look on your face as you dropped your legs from the couch cushions, leaning in just slightly to get a better glance.

“Do you want to hold her?” She asked willingly.

You were hesitant, you had no idea what holding her would mean.

“Should I?”

“It’s up to you. You don’t have to…” she trailed, but the look in your eye turned sad at the thought of never even touching the baby you just birthed. You already looked at her, what more harm could be done?

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching your hands out. She was still crying just slightly, the noise calming down after she adjusted to taking in oxygen for the first time. Maxine handed her to you, wrapped only in a dark towel that had amniotic fluid patched in certain spots. You had to be adjusted a few times, having never held a baby since you were seven years old. But this was different. She wasn’t just your own flesh and blood, she was genetically crafted from half of you. She was your own little creation that was made within the safety of your womb.

There was nothing that could have prepared you for the instant love and adoration you felt… but it was most certainly there.

“She’s so tiny,” you whispered, and Maxine laughed a bit under her breath.

“They do tend to be small,” she joked, but you didn’t even really hear her response, too taken with every breath the baby in your arms made.

“You’re alright, babygirl,” you smiled, genuinely. It felt like the first time in forever that it wasn’t forced onto your face. It felt like back before everything went to shit. Back when your family was still alive. Probably because now, it is.

She’s the only family you’ll ever have again…

Just for now, you postpone the thoughts of leaving. You come up with a mindset that leaves that all for your future self to deal with. Right now you couldn’t be happier for the fact that you were cradling a softly crying baby in your arms, and she’s your own.

Joel found you before you found Ellie. You nearly put a bullet in his head as he limped around the corner.

“Shit, you’re okay,” you breathed out, dropping your arm and reaching for him to make sure he was steady. You’d left him only hours ago and already he was up and about. Those meds must have hit pretty quick.

“You’re not,” he his eyes dropped to your leg, where your belt was still holding in place, and your torn off shirt was soaking through with red stains. “You get shot?”

“I’m alright,” you waved him off, but he kept checking you over, making sure there was nothing else you were underreacting to. “Been shot before, so…”

Though it was meant as a joke, he gave you a cold glare, his hands immediately going to the fabric on your leg and tugging it tighter.

“You shouldn’t be walking, s’not stitched up, could get infected,” he rambled, but really, he was the last person who should talk about having an infection.

“I’ll be fine until this is over with.”

“What the hell happened?”

You sighed, watching as he pulled the rifle from his back, and began scanning the area for possible enemies.

“When I thought you were about to die, I let Ellie go hunt for something to eat… she came back with a brand spankin’ new bottle of penicillin and a syringe instead.”

“Why did you let her go out on her own?”

“She said she wasn’t going far, I told her to stay in the woods behind the house and not go looking around the neighborhood,” you explained, checking your back and then following Joel as he led around the next building. “When she came back she told me she found the meds in a house a few streets down.”

“And you believed her?” he asked with a bit of an anger in his tone.

“Look, at the time, she’d come back safe and brought the stuff that saved your life, I wasn’t exactly worried about too much else,” your defensiveness poured over your words, and his glance at you over his shoulder was less stone cold than before. “They must have followed the horse tracks back to the neighborhood. They were there when we woke up, I tried to let her ride away and make more tracks that could give us time to move you… but they took her and shot the horse.”

“And where were you in all of this?” He started to get irritated again when he heard how reckless you’d been, letting her ride off by herself.

You stared searingly into the back of his head, already barely able to trudge through the snow on account of the gaping hole in your leg, you didn’t need his sass on top of everything you’d been through today.

“I was shooting the guys that tried to get into the house, jackass. Maybe I should have just taken Ellie and run, let em’ get you, instead.”

He stopped in his tracks, not turning to look back at you, but sighing in contrition. Maybe he’s just angry and anxious about Ellie’s safety, and shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions, but he can’t help himself. Ever since the outburst in Jackson, his protective nature was leaping outside its bounds wherever Ellie was concerned.

“Did you see the men that took her?”

His change in demeanor was like a light switch, on and off. You figured he was just delightful to have full blown arguments with. Hot, then cold again the next moment.

“No, but I followed the horse tracks until I saw that the horse was dead. From there Ellie’s tracks and a few others. When I got to a building her tracks stopped but their's got heavier. I'm guessing they carried her off.”

“Do you think she's-?” He didn't even finish his thought, too scared to even try.

“I don't think so. There was no blood inside or outside, the tracks were clean.”

He breathed a sigh of temporary relief, but tensed rught back up a second later when he turned his head to you.

“You smell that?” He said, looking over the buildings to find the source.

You stopped for a moment to pay better attention to your surroundings, and with a deep inhale, you understood what he was talking about.

“Smoke?”

You went backwards from where you came, the smell more prominent that direction.

“Over there,” you signaled him, and he followed behind. It looked like a restaurant had completely caught fire, snd the closer you got, you could hear yelling inside.

God, please don't let her be hurt, or worse.

“Stay here,” he commanded, about to kick the door through after tugging on the locked handle.

“Like hell I'm sitting out here, asshole… you need my help.”

“Don't argue with me, you're shot,” he thought he'd ended the conversation, stepping back and kicking the door once. It didn't break through completely, but the bottom hinge broke off.

“Yeah, and you're definitely in better shape than me,” you replied sarcastically before throwing all of your body weight by your shoulder against the door. You nearly fell over for the stinging in your leg, but when you took in a whiff of the smoke, you realized this was not a good place to be trapped in.

Joel took the lead, his gun pointed at anything that moved.

“Ellie,” he whispered, taking off towards the back of the restaurant. You followed after him limping as you went, and finding him knelt down, his whole body engulfing her in his safety.

You looked over at the man on the ground, likely her kidnapper. His face was unrecognizable to that of a human, and you figured it had something to do with the machete that was sticking out of his chest. She killed him.

“Ellie?” You asked, your eyes filling with tears as you realize what she may have gone through.

She peaked her head out of Joel's shoulder, and you could see clearer now that the smoke was venting out the open door. Her face was covered in tears, overflowing streams were coming down her cheeks.

She stood and ran to you, and you held her as soon as she was in reach. You cradled her head and soothed her cries, beginning to usher her out of the burning building. “It's alright, baby. We're getting out of here.”

You didn't even catch your use of the specific word, but she did, and she clutched you tighter.

Once you were all outside, she paid closer attention to your wounds, being able to see clearly and in a better environment. Joel was still watching the surroundings like a hawk, his gun raised to cover you both in case someone popped up.

“What happened to you?” She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the messy tourniquet and bloody fabric on your thigh, the red too prominent to ignore.

“Took a hit from one of those shitheads, but I'm alright. Doesn't hurt much from the cold…”

“Did you wake him up?” She gestured to Joel, now walking side by side with you both on Ellie’s side.

“Woke up myself,” he shook his head, recalling the fear he had when he sat up on the mattress and neither of you were there. “Found two men outside, had em tell me where you were.”

He skimmed over the part where he tortured both men to death, unsure if that was the right kind of mood setting topic for the trip back to the house. You'd be soon on your way again, traveling to the next lab in Utah. Hopefully it would be the last stop on the journey, and Jackson would be the final destination.

You were beginning to miss it for a few reasons, mainly the food and the shelter. The electricity and running water was also a plus. You longed, however, for something else that hadn't been there before you’d left. Normalcy. You’d loved your life in Jackson but it never felt normal, nor did it feel fulfilling. Even though it was the best conditions you'd ever lived under post outbreak, it still somehow felt like the survival days. Only living for the next day ahead and never having things to look forward to or be truly happy about.

You were anxious to get back because you knew that when you did you’d have a family to return with. You’d have someone to sit on your couch and watch old DVDs and VHS tapes with. You’d finally be able to go to the dining hall and sit at a table that didn't invite you over out of obligation, because you would have a table of your own, with the people that want to be there with you.

You glanced over at Joel, his eyes jumping from the town then to Ellie, over and over. He looked toward the woods before he finally chanced a look at you, concern written on his features.

“You shouldn't still be walking on that leg,” he said nonchalantly before looking back around, his gun never leaving his hands.

You smiled once you were sure he wasn't going to look back. It felt nice to know he was at the very least, worried for your wellbeing.

You'd all ridden Casper several miles west, finding a slightly less frozen place to camp out for a day or two. It wasn't anything fancy, just a small cottage home in the woods that had likely been abandoned a few years ago. There was still food on the shelves of the pantry, and actual bedding on the mattresses in each room, though dust had gathered on everything. There were only two rooms, so Joel volunteered to take the couch… until you started arguing with him.

“You should take it, your back is getting worse.”

“I need to be closer to the door,” he protested, setting his backpack onto the couch and leaving it at that. He was still weary on his feet and would likely keel over if someone attacked during the night… but you stopped fighting him. He was too stubborn for your logical reasoning.

“Fine,” you let out, limping towards the door opposite the one Ellie took.

“Where are you going?”

You threw him a severely annoyed look over your shoulder and scoffed. “The room you refused to take.”

He rounded the couch and pulled one of the chairs forward.

“Sit down,” he said, but you were unsure of what he wanted. When he read the confusion on your face he elaborated. “Gonna check your leg.”

“Oh,” you had almost forgotten about it. Each painful step you took was the furthest thing from your mind when you got to the house, simply happy enough about finding decent shelter. “Yeah, okay.”

You stripped your backpack off, sitting back into the chair carefully. Your leg skin was starting to numb from the belt around it, but it had gotten looser over the day, and probably wasn't even doing its job anymore.

He dragged another chair up close, taking a seat before leaning forward to see the damage. He undid the belt with careful hands, taking the bloody cotton fabric off with a few tugs here and there. Most of it had dried over, but there was still a terrible opening. He grabbed under your knee and lifted upwards, and there was a similar spot on the backside where the bullet went through.

“Needs stitches,” he muttered. He looked up at you, and you weren’t phased. You’d been shot before, as you told him so earlier. “Do you uh-”

He coughed awkwardly before trying again with his sentence.

“Do you mind taking these off?” He averted his eyes from yours, loosely gesturing to your jeans, now soaked on one side with dark blood stains.

You snorted out a laugh, unbuttoning the top and unzipping the materials before attempting to slide them down your leg. The bottom of your shirt was long enough to cover you down to the tops of your thighs, but you still think it's funny how he got so flustered to ask.

“Damn Miller, take me to dinner first.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes as he shuffled through your backpack. You were the one with the better first aid supplies. He imagined Jackson was full of stuff he hadn't seen in half a lifetime. You were a walking testimony of that.

“I ain't got much to clean it with, but there was some whiskey in the cabinet,” he stood up, going back into the kitchen to find the bottle. It had barely a few tablespoons left, but it could work for now. He poured some onto a small scrap of fabric, hoping it would be enough to clean out any traves of potential infection. You didn’t need to repeat Joel’s last situation.

You winced and turned your head away when he finally went in with the harsh liquid, the sting of the alcohol was intense on your skin and beneath it.

“Shit, forgot how much that hurts.”

He tried to be gentle, but no matter how little pressure he applied, the whiskey itself was the culprit.

He did the same to the back of your thigh, averting his eyes as best he can when your shirt lifts a little. It's not his right to look, so he doesn't.

You see the focused expression on his face when he starts threading the needle. His hands shake slightly when he lowers his hands to the skin, but he steadies his hand by letting his wrist lay across your leg, grabbing skin of the opening with the other and trying to pull it closed.

You didn't have as much of a reaction to the needle, you remember it not being as bad as the sting of alcohol.

“So you've been shot before… how bad was it?”

He was attempting conversation, likely to distract you. You supposed you could indulge him.

“A whole lot worse than this. Almost died,” you squint, trying to recall the events as they happened. “Me n' Tommy were still in with the fireflies. There was a raid on one of the campuses we were hidin’ out at. Lost about two dozen people, most were injured or at least roughed up.”

“Tommy was there?” he wasn't surprised, but wanted to keep your story going.

“Yeah, he dragged me out. Our boss told him not to, but you Miller boys are really stubborn.”

“Sounds like him, he's the soldier that'll never leave a man behind,” was a line that sounded a little more personal. He was branching out of the distraction now.

“I got hit twice below my ribs, started seeing lights and all that. He knew I would slow him down but he got me out anyway.”

He nodded, looking up at you for a second and pausing his work.

“I guess I'll have to thank him when we get back.”

“Nice to know you don't hate me after all,” you joked, giving a slight chuckle under his breath. He was right back to stitching you up a moment later.

“Nah, you're not so bad.” he muttered softly.

“You're just saying that because my pants are off.”

He laughed heartily, shaking his head and tying off the first knot.

“They didn't suit you much, anyway.”

You didn't have the will to respond after that one. You just huffed a small chuckle and let the blush take over your cheeks. He was joking, but it was still fun to imagine that after the world has gone to shit, a man can still flirt with you as if it hasn't.

Tags: @orcasoul

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #reader insert #the last of us #joel #ellie the last of us #ellie williams

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