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cleo-fox · 5 months

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Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable.

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest.

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

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777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember.  

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

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tsimvkas · 24 days

Text

come back home — mason mount.

A/N: really sad to hear about the new injury so maybe this can distract u guys a bit. im ngl, this one is pretty personal to me so please take care of it. tbh this is a special fic for mi amore elisa, and i hope it matches her expectations. this story wouldn’t exist without you bestie 🫶🏻

word count: 8.5k | masterlist

content: reader has mommy issues, dad!mason, angsty and fluffy end

When your mum called, you didn’t think twice.

She asked you to spend a week with her, and you accepted straight away, incapable of believing that your brother left her alone without warning you.

To be fair, you know you’re not on speaking terms with him, but it's your mother. How could he let her alone?

When you told Mason, you could see the insecurity on his face. Since you gave birth to your baby boy, you had never ever left the house without him, and leaving Manchester to go back to your mum’s in London was a big thing, but eventually he sighed and nodded.

“Just make sure you call me everyday” he kissed your forehead before kissing Leo. Just a week, you told him. In a week you would be back to your husband.

You met Mason at the Champions League final im the 20/21 season, and you like to say it was love at first sigh, the way your relationship instantly clicked is still surprising. You dated for a year before he asked you to be his wife, and you thinks you would’ve said yes another million times.

You’ve been together through the good enough season of 21/22, and all the shit of 22/23. You got pregnant in the middle of his last season for Chelsea, and Luke was born already in Manchester, in October.

Since Mason’s injury in November he’s been able to participate more, spending lots of time with his son as he doesn’t need to go to away games, and you know that this week away will make both of them sad.

You tried to tell yourself that since Mason is back at the regular training and ready to be back on the pitch, they would spend less time together anyway. It didn’t make the decision any easier.

When you packed for a week and got into the car, your husband helped to put Luke in the baby seat before kissing you lovely.

“Call me every night. Don��t let her be alone with Luke, please? And come back soon” he whispered against your lips, stroking your chin. “I love you”

“I love you” you kissed him, before reluctantly driving away from your husband.

Sundays are usually already sad and gray, but Mason is sure his just hit another level of depression.

—

It was already night when you got to your mum’s house, not talking much to her before settling on Matt’s old room and texting Mason.

You instantly found out that it would be a difficult week: it was the first time you were away from Mason since you gave birth, and the first time Luke had to sleep away from daddy.

The thing is that he couldn’t. You couldn’t put your baby to sleep, not even if your life depended on it. Luke kept loudly crying, tossing and squirming in your arms.

You tried your best to calm him, thinking it could have something bothering him like his current clothes or the weather difference, but not even breastfeeding calmed him down.

Mason tried to help you every time he FaceTimed you, and it was when Luke seemed to feel better but never lasted long.

You were feeling exhausted the whole week, but that didn’t stop your mother from asking you everything she could, like you were still fifteen years old with the responsibility of helping her to clean a house isn’t yours anymore.

Plus, she seemed incredibly bothered about Luke and the fact he wasn’t feeling well, dropping comments about him. You tried your best to ignore, because you know your mother isn’t the easiest person to live with, and since you were leaving soon you didn’t want to fight.

Wednesday night you were missing Mason like crazy, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped with him under the covers, and your heart twisted when his face showed up on your screen.

“Hi baby” Mason murmured, already tucked in bed and making your heart ache with the need of being there and snuggling with him.

“Hi Mase. How are you?”

“Training was fine, and I’m getting closer to come back” he smiled, and you instantly matched his expression.

“I can’t wait to watch you again, love”

You think that is adorable how Mason’s cheeks still got red when you show him affection.

“And how’s your week going?”

“It could’ve been better if I was with you. I miss you” you sighed. “But the week is almost over and I’ll be home soon”

“Good” he yawned, getting more comfortable. . “Show me my little man”

Luke was still wide awake and paying attention to what you were saying, and you showed Mason to him.

“Hi buddy, you’re being a good boy, yeah? Be good to mumma, please. I miss you”

When Luke babbled to him, Mason giggled before wishing you a good night and telling you he loved you.

—

When Saturday came your mother talked to you, saying Matt had some problem and he wouldn’t be back for another week, begging you to stay a little while. The hardest part was telling Mason about it.

“She needs me to stay for one more week, Masey” you murmured, feeling guilty. When Mason didn’t answer you tried again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be home next Sunday”

“It’s okay. I was just hoping you’d be here for Liverpool’s game tomorrow, I think I’ll be subbed on. But it’s okay, you can travel to Brentford's game with Luke” he assured you. “I wish I could go see you during the international break, but they want me to stay in rehab”

“I’m really sorry baby, I tried to contact my brother but he’s being petty” you sighed.

“I understand, princess. I just miss you” he told you gently. “How’s my buddy going?”

“He’s good, he’s just so irritated lately, I think it’s his tooth” you sighed again, feeling tired. “He misses you”

“Poor bubba” Mason pouted, making you smile. “Give him a kiss yeah?”

“Sure” you smiled. “We’ll be back at the end of the week. I love you”

When the week unfolded, you weren’t sure about your decision anymore.

You choose to stay with your mother for one more week over living your husband’s comeback, and in gratitude she spent this time talking bad things about you.

It started with innocent comments. How she would never buy the clothes you were wearing. How you were raising a clingy kid by never letting him sleep alone. How you should breastfeed him less or your boobs would get flaccid.

You tried to shrug it off, like you did when you were younger. You used to believe that your mother was always right and that she was always the mature one, but you’re not so sure anymore.

During the second week you kept calling Mason every night, sharing about your day and showing him to Luke, who would try to grab the phone and put dads on his month. When, without a question if you could or wanted, the second week turned into a third, you could feel Mason losing his patience.

“It’s okay, you can still go to Brentford’s game this Saturday” he repeated, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead. “You can bring Luke, Brentford is friendly. How is he doing?”

“He had a fever but he’s fine now” you showed Luke sleeping next to you, his face a little red.

“Let me know if something changes” Mason asked you, and his concerned look just proved you chose the right dad for your son.

You nodded to his image on the small screen, his adorable face almost hidden by the sheets, the bed looking incredibly big.

“Can we sleep on call?” you asked, missing him so much it was physically hurting you. Mason’s face softened and he nodded.

Some people might think that you could just go back home. If you really miss him you would do it, right?

But you know Mason understands your relationship with your mother, how you feel you owe her everything. She raised you, gave you everything you needed.

She was rough sometimes, yes. And there were days you didn’t feel loved at all, but she was still your mum, even when she couldn’t tell you she was proud, even when she couldn’t hug you during storms.

Even when she couldn’t believe you would be someone successful one day.

So you kept there, living your days boringly, washing the dishes and the clothes, playing with Luke, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. For her, so she would be happy and proud.

And you were losing your mind.

—

When Brentford's game came, you weren’t able to go. You apologised to him the day before, spending hours on the phone, and even though you could see the sad look in his eyes Mason was still comprehensive.

“She needs me to accompany her to the exam” you told him, and Mason himself could see you weren’t funny about your current situation; you just weren’t brave enough to hurt your mother the way she hurts you and leave.

You were able to watch the game when you came back from your mother’s exam and it wasn’t a surprise to you when Mason changed the whole game by being subbed on.

Luke was already sleeping, so you tried your best not to scream when your husband scored, tearing up to see he dedicated the goal to you by pointing to his ring finger.

You were able to talk with him only for a few minutes before he desperately needed to sleep, whispering that you was proud of him and the way his voice cracked when he told you he loved you made your heart hurt.

Following the week, you weren’t able to talk much with him. Only quick calls at night before he dozed off still holding his phone, feeling much more tired now that he’s back at attending games even though he doesn’t play the full match.

Your Wednesday started with Luke’s little sobs waking you up, and you were sure he wasn’t feeling well again. After breastfeeding and showering with him, you managed to get you both changed and ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs your mother was already in the kitchen, and you could hear her complaining that you were late.

“For what?” you surprised her, and despite being early in the morning she seemed grumpy already.

“For breakfast, what more could it be? I had to cook it myself” she snorted, and you took a deep breath before

“If you’re capable of it, I don’t see what’s wrong” you shrugged.

The truth is that you’re starting to wonder what he hell you’re doing there and why Matt hasn’t come back. What should be a week turned into a month and you was living her life instead of yours.

When you sat at the table for breakfast, after managing to cook your own meal with Luke in one of your arms, you had to take a deep breath as soon as she started to talk.

You’ve heard in silence when she talked about you and Luke, but never makes you more furious like when your mother decides to talk about Mason.

“He could spend more time in the gym” she told you, suddenly. “Your husband”

You were only capable of frowning at her, not understanding why she would brought this out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“He could train more. Maybe some more muscles would make him prettier and better at football” she shrugged, making you laugh in disbelief.

“He’s already pretty and good at football”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I feel like he’s not the right man to you, and I want the best to my little girl”

Mason is the most caring and gentle man you’ve ever known, and you knew you couldn’t sit there and hear her talking shit about him day after day.

“Mum, you can’t be serious. He’s my husband. Not only this, but he’s Luke’s father. Don’t talk about him like that”

“Are you sure he doesn’t cheat on you?” she innocently asked, making you choke on your coffee.

“Mum!” you gasped, not believing what she was saying.

Luke’s eyes widened and you tried to recompose yourself so he wouldn’t cry out of fear

“I mean, he could have anyone… everyone. A skinny and tanned woman, with pretty features…”

There it was. The reason why you grew up so insecure, something that would annoy lots of men — but not Mason. Not your boy, who would reassure you every time and make you really believe that you’re pretty and loved.

Her words still stung though, but you shrugged them off.

“Mason loves me” was everything you told her before leaving the table with Luke.

You went out for a walk with your baby, trying to make the day pass faster and see if he’d feel better after some fresh air. When it started to get dark, you came back home and gave Luke a shower, laying in bed with him.

Later that night Mason called you like he always does, and you were happy to see his name shining on your screen.

“Hi baby” you whispered, but to your surprise he didn’t greet you back.

“How’s Luke?” Mason murmured, and you could sense the tiredness and loneliness in his voice. “Don’t you think you should bring him back home so we can get him to our doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want to do. But I can’t leave my mum alone and Matt won’t answer the phone-”

But Mason had enough, and suddenly he lost his patience.

“And why, exactly, can’t you leave her alone, Y/N? Enlighten me, please. From what I can remember, she can do everything perfectly. She’s not sick, she’s not weak. She’s just using you”

Mason never liked your mother, much due to how she treats you, and you understand. It just hurts that you have so many good things to talk about his mother whilst yours is always giving him reasons to hate her.

“Mason… she’s my mother. Can we not talk about her like that?” you murmured, but you know he’s right.

On the other side, Mason did his best to not scream at you, something he swore he would never, even if it’s out of frustration.

“She’s your mother, yeah. And I’m your fucking husband. I know you never chose to have a narcissist as your mother, but you chose to marry me and I thought I would have an important spot in your life. I know family comes first but I thought that someday you’d start to prioritize the family you made”

You could feel how tired he was. How he needed you to understand his point.

“I’m trying, Mase” was the only thing you were capable of whispering.

“You say you are but you keep choosing her. You keep going when she calls even though you know she’s only going to hurt you. You keep choosing your mother over your husband and I don’t know if I can do this anymore”

“Mason…” your heart dropped. “Don’t say that”

“Do you have any idea of how much I miss my son? How much I’ve been missing my wife? It’s been a month, Y/N. And I feel like you’re not thinking about my feelings, at all”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, it was supposed to be just a week” you tried to defend yourself. “I don’t know what’s going on or why Matt isn’t back yet. It has been hard for me too, yeah? I miss you so much and I’m sorry”

“Well I think you should set your priorities” he murmured before turning the call off on your face.

You instantly felt the tears forming. He hasn’t said it was over, but it was obviously a warning that it wasn’t over just yet.

With a sick Luke in one of your arms, you started to clean the room you had been staying in. Cleaning always helps you, and you let your cry reach out to you during the process, feeling overwhelmed and tired.

You wanted your home and your husband, but as a daughter you feel like you need to take care of your mother. Like you’re supposed to give her everything she’s been giving you your whole life.

After tidying the room you went downstairs to prepare the dinner, and whilst you mixed the sauce something snapped. What were you doing there?

You should be cooking for Mason, so he would have a proper meal after his nap. Luke should be sitting in his baby chair whilst you were humming happy songs. Not there, where your mother can cook her own dinner and clean her own house.

It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t understand that you have your own family now.

When you set the table for dinner your mother wasn't home yet, and you ate with Luke’s little screams, trying to smile at him. She finally arrived an hour later, and whilst she entered the house you decided that you had enough.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning” you told her whilst she closed the door. “Mason will face Chelsea and I need to be there. And Luke is sick, so I’m heading back home after the game to take him to his doctor in Manchester”

“What are you talking about? He looks fine”

“I’m his mother. I know when he’s not doing well” you snapped at her. “And don’t come to me saying you don’t wanna be alone. You’re not alone, are you? Because I spent the day here to be with you whilst you’re walking around the city or going to your friend’s house” you tried not to snap. “And getting drunk every Saturday even tho I tell you how much I hate it. We’re leaving tomorrow, whether you like it or not”

Not leaving her time to answer, you went upstairs to sleep a bit. When Luke finally slept you debated whether or not you should send a message to Mason letting him know you would go back home after the game.

Deciding not to disturb him any more and imagining that he was still upset with you, you laid with your son and tried to sleep, but the shooting thoughts wouldn’t let you.

What if Mason had enough? What if he doesn’t want you anymore, what if you are too late?

—

When you woke up, you took Luke in your arms and started to pack. Since you were supposed to stay only for a week you didn’t have much to organise, and soon you were ready to go.

Your plans were to drive to Stamford Bridge and see Mason after the game before heading to Manchester whilst he came back home with the team.

But as soon as you checked beneath the pillow and under the bed, you realised your phone wasn’t anywhere.

Taking Luke downstairs and looking everywhere you could, you tried to ask your mother.

“Have you seen my phone? It’s not where it should be”

“You should take care of your stuff, Y/N. I thought I taught you that your things are your responsibility” she told you with a flat look and you stared at her for a few seconds, in disbelief.

After hours of searching for it, you gave up. There was only an hour left before the game and since you only started to drive recently the idea of driving around without following the GPS terrified you, so you had to make a choice.

Plus, you were tired from searching for it and all you wanted was to eat something and watch the game with Luke.

Deciding to bath with your baby and cook dinner, you sat on the couch to see the game, your stomach churning with the need to be there.

A few minutes into the first half, your mother looked at you from up the stairs.

“I thought you were going back home today?” she teased you, making you frown.

You chose not to answer, paying attention to the game instead. When Mason was finally subbed on you pointed at him, bouncing Luke in your thigh.

“Look at dada, Luke. We’ll see dada soon”

“Dada” he babbled, making you gasp.

“Yeah, dada. It’s your dada” you poked his waist, the teas already forming. Luke couldn’t stop calling for dada once he said it for the first time, and he kept repeating it until the game was over.

You were incredibly sad by the result, knowing you should be at home when Mason gets there so you could hold him and scratch his scalp after his warm bath.

Deciding to sleep early, you waited for your mother to go to her bedroom and carefully brought your bags downstairs before laying with Luke and forcing yourself to sleep, determined to leave the next morning — even if you had to drive like the old ones, asking for instructions and following the signs.

On the other hand, Mason was desperate. He knew from the moment he turned the call off that he needed to apologise for how he talked to you.

But he was angry, stressed and frustrated. He wanted you there, supporting him. Cuddling him after his tiring games, listening to him when he needs to. He wants you there talking about your day, warming the bed, bringing Luke to him after a shower so you can change into your pyjamas.

He wants his family and he can’t cope with the fact they’re not with him.

Mason can’t believe you and Luke weren’t there watching his first goal, and scoring felt bittersweet. He wanted nothing more than to share this moment with you.

Since he met you, Mason knows how hard your mother is. Narcissist, dramatic, always trying to make you feel sorry for hurting her — when you were only setting boundaries.

And he also knows how hard had been for you, not finding the courage to break the circle and move on from her. But in all this time he never had to deal with this, you and his son so far away from him because of a woman who doesn’t even respect her own children.

When he went to bed a few hours after the call, Mason started to worry and he knows you were mad when you didn’t text him before bed, but at the same time he wanted to apologise for the way he talked he still meant everything he said, so he took a deep breath and choose to wait until the next day so he could talk to you properly.

His heart hurt knowing he was going to bed without telling you he loves you, something none of you ever did, but Mason was sure you’d figure it out after the game since you promised you would go, so he did his best to sleep and rest.

—

He looked everywhere. He asked everyone.

You just weren’t there.

When the game ended, Mason just wanted to bring you and his son and tell you he needed you home when he got there. He needed someone he could cry to, someone he could tell how overwhelming being back felt.

All he wanted was to survive the bus drive with all his teammates feeling sorry — for the loss and for him. And then lay in your arms so you could reassure him he’s doing well and that he makes you proud, whilst Luke’s little fingers tried to make him bald.

But they told him you weren’t in the United box and soon he found out you never entered the stadium Mason’s heart twisted.

First he felt a shameful feeling of anger. Why the fuck couldn’t you do this little thing for him? Relationships are supposed to be about making sacrifices and he watched you put yourself first for an entire month, always being understanding. The only thing he expected in return was for you to be there.

And you couldn’t? You say love him so much, but still couldn’t be there?

Then, when he finally showered and changed into some trainers before heading to the bus, Mason was able to check his phone just to see you hadn’t answered his pre-game messages, and quickly his anger turned into worry.

He called you five times, but every call went to voicemail. Mason pondered if you were ignoring him — or if something bad had happened.

Knowing you for four years, he doesn’t think you would give up on your relationship like that. But the way he hung up on you the night before, and how he accused you of not caring about him… he just can’t help but overthink.

With his heart pounding, Mason opened his Instagram app and searched for the only person who could help him, whilst he was forced to come back to Manchester when all he wanted to do was come to you.

—

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke you up, and you checked the hours just to see it was just past 2am. Luke instantly started to cry, and you took him in your arms before rushing downstairs and opening the door to the person you never thought you would see there.

“What are you doing here?” you frowned to your brother.

“Mason called me. Where’s that freak you call your mother?” he said harshly. “Why don’t you answer your phone? Your husband is losing his mind. He thinks something bad happened”

“I’ve been looking for my phone since yesterday morning, I don’t know, it’s vanished” you explained, following him. “Matt! What’s happening?”

“She’s been lying to you, Y/N. She’s probably hiding your phone right now. These are yours?” he pointed to the things you’ve packed, and you nodded. “I was never meant to come back. I told her I was leaving, cause I was tired of the manipulation. I was tired of her telling me my girlfriend doesn’t deserve me or telling me I owe everything I am to her. I owe her nothing”

You could feel the lump already forming in your throat, and you wanted nothing more than to call Mason. Matt silently put your bags in the front door, and soon his girlfriend got out of the car to take them.

“I realised something was wrong” you told him. “And Luke has been feeling sick so I packed, but then the morning I told her I’d go to the game and then head back home I couldn’t find my phone anymore. What Mason told you?”

“Not gonna lie to you, he’s feeling awful. I think he’s been crying, too. He told me you were supposed to go to the game tonight?” he asked, and you nodded, your heart dropping. “He said he tried to call you before and when you ignored him he thought you were still angry, but now that you didn’t show up at Stamford he thinks you either were kidnapped or decided to leave him. There’s only these bags?”

“Yeah” you quickly nodded. “She asked me to spend just a week”

“Compulsive liar” Matt snorted. “Let’s go, get in the car. I’ll take you to my home and we can go to yours in the morning”

You nodded again, but before you could obey him you mother showed up in the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” your mother’s voice made you jump as you were still two kids doing something she wouldn’t approve of.

“Please, don’t. Just go back to your room, I’m taking Y/N’s home”

“You can’t do that!” she raised her voice, trying to show a mother authority she doesn’t have over him anymore.

“What do you mean I can’t do that, you psycho? Leave us alone. You used me for years, I’m not letting you do the same with her”

“Don’t be stupid, Matthew. All I ever asked you was for you to take care of me like I took care of you your whole life. All I ever expected was you both to love me like I loved my childs” she gestured, and you could feel your heart hurting. She’s your mother and you should be so tough with her…

“Why can’t you understand that we have our own family now?” Matt snorted, his big body trying to hide you from your hysterical mother. “Y/N is a mother. She has a child to take care of, she can’t look after you when you’re capable of looking after yourself”

When you realised Luke was about to cry from all the noise, you started to rock him back and forth, trying to protect his ears.

“I am your family. All those years I left my life in standby to raise you. I gave you two food, a home, a warm bed to sleep” your mother shouted, gesturing.

“And as a mother this was exactly what the world expected from you. You did nothing but your obligations. No one asked you to be a mother, so you can’t point your fingers and act like we should be grateful for the simple things you gave us. The minimal” Matt kept his tone low. “But you lacked the essential. The respect for your kids. The love, acceptance. You only love yourself. Now you say we’re not returning everything you did for us but guess what: this is what you did for us. You reap what you sow. You can not raise a child thinking about what they can bring you in the future”

“Everything I’ve done, everything I say is because I care! But go on, make me the villain, take her thy stupid footballer” she turned to face you. “Go back to him and raise this stupid child. Just don’t come back running to mummy when he changes you for a prettier and hotter girl, leaving you with only his clone to remind you of what you’ve lost!”

It was unconscious, the way you left the safe space Matt had created for you and advanced in her direction. You never believed you were capable until it was done, the echo of your hand meeting her cheek spreading in the silent room.

“Talk about me as much as you want. But do never, ever again talk about my husband or my son. Is not our fucking fault dad couldn’t handle your behaviour anymore, and is not our fucking fault he left you for a prettier and hotter woman” you pointed a finger to her face. “I’m done with you. I’m done with you forever, and if cutting you from my life is what I need to do so I won’t be the wife and mother you were, then I’m doing it right now”

“C’mon, Y/N” Matt put a hand on your shoulder, slowly bringing you closer to him. “Let’s go home”

You checked Luke on your arms afraid your impulsive action had hurt him, whilst Matt took you outside.

“She still has my phone-” you realised before you could enter your car.

“Leave it behind, yeah? Mason can buy you a new one. Look at it as a new beginning” he squeezed your shoulders, and it felt like having a brother again.

In that moment you understood that this was what had happened to him, too. That this was the reason he never replied to you anymore.

When Matt left his mother’s house in an attempt to be free, he had to leave everything behind, including you.

You think you won’t ever really understand what it cost him to come back there, but he did it.

He could never leave his little sister behind.

—

You took Luke out from the baby seat before following Alice inside. She came back driving Matt’s car whilst he drove yours, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her.

Once inside, Matt put you in the biggest guest room of his house, trying his best to make you comfortable. You used the sheets and the pillows to make a fort around Luke, and went downstairs to talk to your brother after so long.

After making you all tea, Alice sat besides him and you genuinely smiled seeing how they clearly completed each other.

You started by explaining to them what she told you in the first place, and how she was trying to keep you there for more and more days every time another week ended. When you told about your fight with Mason, Matt was quick to reassure you that he knows Mase will understand you, but you were still feeling reckless and seeing your husband was the only thing you wanted.

“I tried to contact you” Matt told you shyly. “It’s been months since I left her house, maybe six?”

“Around Luke’s birth” you whispered.

“But I left my phone too. It was a choice I had to make. Since you don’t have an Instagram, I tried Mason’s but-”

“He’s too famous to see your message” you giggled.

“I think he unfollowed me when he thought we weren’t on speaking terms- when you thought we weren’t. He’s a good one, you know?”

“He is” you smiled, thinking about your boy.

“I’ll get the car ready for the trip” he murmured, suddenly looking awkward.

As soon as he left, Alice saw you were still processing your feelings and came to sit near you. After a few seconds in silence, she started to talk.

“You don’t have to love her just because she’s your mother” she told you, holding your hand. “Mothers aren’t saints, Y/N. It’s okay to dislike our mothers when they act bad, when they hurt you. It’s okay to even hate a mother that does no good to her kids”

“But she’s my blood” you told her the same you’ve always told your brother, but as a woman your age Alice understands your feelings and is delicate to answer you.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Do you see Debbie? Matt told me about her, and how much she cares about you. She’s your blood? No. But she’s been treating you better than your blood has” she ran hiii her fingers through your hair. “I know it’s hard to make this decision, but a mother that hurts and lies, a mother that tries to get in the middle of your marriage isn’t a good mother. Just think if you’d ever do to Luke any of the stuff she did to you”

When you looked up your brother was by the door, and you know he’s the only one who actually shares this controversial feeling with you.

“I wanna go home” you sniffed. “To Mason”

“We’ll take you there” Matt assured you, stretching his arms out to you. “But give me a hug first”

“I’m so sorry she got between us” you murmured after hugging him, resting your face on his shoulder.

“Me too. But see? We’re free now, princess. Your big brother is here”

—

When he opened the door for you early in the morning, Mason’s heart dropped. With Matt and his girlfriend waiting in the car, he was sure you were there to pick your stuff and leave.

“Mase?” you called him nervously, since he wouldn’t move or make any indication of hugging you.

“Are you leaving? I- I didn’t mean it you know, I didn’t mean to be rude with you I was just so tired and angry and I came home after training and you weren’t here and I got so pissed off” his voice was shaky and he didn’t stop talking to breath. “And then I thought we could solve things after the game but you weren’t at the game and I tried to call you so many times and I swear I wanted to go there and talk to you but the gaffer told me I was supposed to come back with the team”

You quickly entered the house so your brother wouldn’t be worried. The last thing you needed was him and Alice wanting to stay — you needed to talk with Mason alone, your family needed this time together.

You circled his waist with one arm, the other holding Luke between you two, and waited for him to hug your shoulders. When Mason calmed down you pulled away just so you could look at him.

“What’s going on?” you asked him, a hand going straight to his cheek. “Are you having panic attacks again?”

Mason shook his head, calmer now that you were inside the house and Matt’s car was gone. Luke stretched out his tiny arms to Mason and you instantly passed him to your husband.

“I thought- I saw Matt’s car parked and I thought you were here to take your stuff” he shyly admitted, his cheeks blushing.

“Oh baby, I would never leave you” you ran your fingers through his hair and your heart tightened when he hugged Luke like his life depended on this.

A lonely tear went down his cheek and you brushed it.

“We’re not going anywhere big boy, you can relax. I think you’re close to suffocating him” you giggled, your heart hurting at how tight he was holding Luke.

“Am I?” Mason’s eyes widened as he pulled his son away, to be sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Sorry, I was just kidding” you laid your head on your husband’s shoulder. “We missed you so much. I’m so sorry, Mase”

When Luke laid his head on daddy’s other shoulder, your eyes watered.

Since you gave him birth, since he grew inside you even, you could never understand how someone could hurt their own child. You would die and kill for him, and you know Mason feels the same way.

Being a mother like yours turned out to be your biggest fear since you saw the first positive test. Now, each day he grows more you’re sure you could never.

You could never treat him like his opinions and wishes aren’t valid. You could never tell him he can’t simply answer you his point of view no matter what, even when you’re wrong. You could never put yourself first when your son depends on you.

“Believe me, I missed you more. The bed was always cold, every night, and the house is so quiet without Luke, the food doesn’t taste the same, there’s not a single drawing in the bathroom wall and everything looks so lifeless” his voice cracked, and you looked at him to see uncountable tears spilling down his face. “Ever again. You’re not leaving my side ever again”

You nodded, trying to reassure him and ease the panic you could see in his eyes. Hugging his waist, you peppered kisses to his jaw, feeling the salty water on your lips.

“We’re not going anywhere, baby. I swear”

Mason’s sobs caught Luke’s attention, and he looked at his dad with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, full of confusion.

Your words weren’t enough to stop Mason’s breakdown once he was feeling safe to show you how much the last month affected him and his body started to shake, so you guided him to the couch and sat with your back against the arm so he could lay between your legs.

With Luke sitting on one of your legs and Mason’s head resting on the other, you let your husband cry.

“It’s ok, Mase” you scratched his scalp, trying to soothe him. Your heart physically hurt when he clinged to you, hugging your waist tighter. “I’m here now”

“Sorry” he whispered when you started to brush his tears.

“Don’t feel sorry for being hurt, Masey. You can cry to me whenever you need to, I’m here to protect you too”

“You, protecting me?” he giggled, and you smiled at the sound of it. He got up from your lap and gave you a shy smile, stretching his hands out for Luke who immediately tried to go to him.

“Yeah, it’s your turn to be taken care of” you shrugged, giving your baby boy to him.

“Oh so you’ll take care of me?” Mason gave you a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully before remembering what you wanted to show him the most.

“Daddy is being a naughty boy, Luke. Tell him to be better, uh? Tell dad to behave”

“Da” Luke babbled, and Mason pinched his chubby cheeks.

“One month alone with mum and you already forgot that I’m your partner in crime?”

“Da-dada” he kept going, and you wish you could get Mason’s reaction tattooed, the way he confused eyes looked at you.

“What the fu-“

“Don’t curse” you giggled, covering his mouth, but Mason could hear the sad tone on your voice. “He said if for the first time last night, we were watching the game and I told him we would see dada soon. He can’t stop anymore I guess”

Mason kissed Luke’s cheek, laughing between sobs when he squirmed, giving little screams.

“You have training today?” you whispered, afraid of ruining the moment but Mason shook his head.

“I’ll call the gaffer to explain” he brushed his fingers through Luke’s face.

“I’ll run his bath then” you told your husband before kissing his head and quickly going upstairs, trying to give them some time alone.

In reality, you feel so bad for separating father and son for an entire month. Seeing Mason’s cry made it hit you how bad your actions hurt him, even intentionally.

Imagining how you would feel if it was the opposite, your heart physically hurt with guilt, how hard this month apart was for Mason and you could feel a few hot tears spilling down your face. Now, you can only hope he won’t hold any grudge against you, despite what you did.

Less than ten minutes later, Mason was entering your shared room and walking straight to the en-suite so he could find you.

“Babe? You can’t leave your boys alone, we don’t know how to take care of ourse- ei, what’s wrong?” he cupped your cheek, and just the warmth of his hand was enough to make you feel better.

“Nothing” you shook your head, drying your face with the back of your hand. “Can you take off his clothes?”

“We’ll talk about it once he’s sleeping” Mason kissed your forehead, squeezing your waist. You nodded, letting him go and undress Luke whilst you chose some toys for your son.

You put the toys in the bath, checking again to be sure the water wasn’t too hot and turning around to Mason.

“Can you bathe him?” you asked him and he instantly nodded, holding your waist before you could leave.

“Go bath in the guest bathroom if you need some time alone, yeah?” he caressed your chin, and your heart pounded even more with how gentle he could be with you even though you hurt him.

Since he seems to know you more than you know yourself, you obeyed. Taking what you’d need, you headed to the guest bathroom and took a warm shower.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to let it all go when Mason and Luke weren't around, but you couldn’t. There was just a whole in your chest, but no tears.

After washing your hair in an attempt to feel freshened and lightened, you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to your room. Mason wasn’t there, so you imagine he was at Luke’s room putting him to sleep, and not wanting to get in the middle of their father and son time you changed in your pyjamas and tucked in bed.

Half an hour ater you still weren’t able to close your eyes, staring the wall. You’ve heard when your husband entered the room and changed from his trainers, wanting to lay down with you.

“You can go to training if you’re not too late, Mase” you told him softly, not wanting him to get in trouble.

“No way” was his only groaned response, and you sighed when Mason cuddled you seconds later, his arm circling your waist.

Your eyes instantly teared up.

“Go on” Mason kissed your shoulder. “You don’t need to hold it, it’s just us”

“I can’t believe she did this” you tried to tell him without crying, but with every little kiss on your shoulder you could feel the breakdown coming. “Lying would’ve been bad enough but hiding my phone? Not caring that Luke was feeling sick- oh we need to take him to Dr. Linn”

“I’ll take care of it. Keep going” he encouraged you, and you couldn’t understand how he was the one left behind for a month but still so worried about you.

“I don’t know why she wanted me there. The entire month, every day she had something bad to say about me or you, or even Luke. Always leaving to see her friends or get drunk, so in the end I was alone most of the time. She hates me and my family, but she still wanted to keep me around for some reason” your eyes were burning at this point, and Mason’s soft skin against yours made you feel safe enough to finally let the tears spill. “I’m so sorry you had to live an entire month without him”

His hug tightened a bit when you sobbed.

“It’s not your fault. And I lived an entire month without you too, you know? You were missed just as badly”

“It is my fault, Mason. You said it yourself, I chose her over my family and I’m really sorry about it. I want you to spend more time with him, make up for lost time”

Mason pulled away just enough so he could helo turn your body to face his, his hand going straight to cup your chin.

“Y/N, what’s that? I don’t wanna spend hours alone with Luke, even though I love him more than anything. I wanna make up for lost time with my family, not only with half of it. I was angry that night, yeah? I was tired and missing you and I was so pissed you weren’t here when I got back home, I just snapped”

“You had every right to” you murmured, his thumbs never stopping with caressing your face.

“And then the next morning you weren’t answering my calls and when the time came you weren’t at the game like you said you would and I was so scared you had given up on us. So during the night I couldn’t sleep and I realised… I know you, I know you wouldn’t deprive me of my son even though you didn’t want to talk to me yourself, so I panicked. I’m sorry I called Matt, he was my only option”

“Matt and I were good” you smiled at him, and the way his eyebrows raised made you giggle. “I could never give up on us, silly. You’re my everything. Not going to bed with you every night, not making your breakfast every morning… it was the worst month of my life”

“That’s why I gotta give you my attention too, babe. You’re my girl, and Luke knows how to share, you know? He’s not selfish”

“Well, I don’t think I deserve your attention. Look what you had to go through for an entire month” you groaned, but Mason just sighed before placing his forehead against yours.

“You were manipulated, by someone you love a lot. You were worried and wanted nothing more than to help her, and I understand that staying away from me was a consequence of what you needed to do in your head, even tho in reality you didn’t have to do anything. I don’t really like your mum but I love mine, and I know the feeling of being able to do anything for her” he held you tighter. “You don’t need to feel guilty about it”

“Mason, you can’t pretend it’s alright. I lost the most important game of the season. I lost your fucking goal. I should’ve been there to support you and then I should’ve been here to comfort you” you chocked, the guilty feeling eating you alive.

“Babe-”

“It’s not ok! And I’d feel better if you just admit it, let me apologise and forgive me” you tried to breath and calm down. “You lost the first time he called for you and it’s my fault”

“We’ll, I’m listening now. And he can’t stop, isn't it adorable? The tiny human we made. With so much love” he kissed your forehead. “I missed you so much I think I feel like making another one any time”

“Mason!” you gasped, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

“What? The day we made Luke was so hot. A mess, but incredibly hot” he closed his eyes, licking his lips and you had to look away with flaming cheeks. You know exactly the day you got pregnant since it happened in a month you and Mason only got to sleep together once. Mason laid on his back and helped you lay half of your body on top of his. “Fine, baby. Let me hear your apologies”

“I’m really sorry for missing your first goal. You have no idea how awful I feel, because I should be there to celebrate it with you, to scream loud with the fans, to show how proud I was. And I’m sorry I lost the most important game for you. I hope you know I would never do that on purpose, and we wanted to be there for you. But I watched on TV and I’m so proud of you. You did so well with the time you had, and I’m sorry about the general result. You were so pretty though”

“Was I?”

“I’m starting to understand the hair now” you giggled. “It filled my tummy with butterflies”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna make another baby? Because you’re sounding like you do” he teased. “You’re forgiven, princess. And I don’t wanna you beating yourself about it, yeah? I already told you, I understand what happened and how stuck you were. It’s your family, after all”

“No” you shook your head, clinging even more against him. “You are my family. You and Luke”

“And the babygirl we’re gonna make soon?”

“Stop” you groaned, burying your face in his bare chest. “I want another one too”

“Really?” he pouted, and you could never say no to him.

“We could try your girl or start the Mason Mount FC” you hummed, content when he kissed you.

“Perfect” he murmured, lips brushing yours softly. You stared into his eyes, smiling when he raised his eyebrows. “Wanna start trying now? Cause I honestly missed you so much-”

“Shut up” you giggled, relaxing in his embrace. Brushing your nose against his neck, you inhaled the after shave smell and focused on how soft his neck is.

After a few minutes appreciating his warmth, you allowed yourself to sleep deeply, finally in your home. Where you are loved for who you are, not for what you can offer. Where you are wanted and your presence is valid. Where you feel safe.

Not your perfect three store white house, no. Your home. Mason Mount.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount x you #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount fics

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ma1dita · 7 months

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

1K notes · View notes

its-steddie-time · 11 months

Text

Steve runs track & Eddie thinks that's pretty fucking hot and cool.

It’s not that Eddie doesn’t understand the appeal of sports. He knows what it’s like to play a game and do everything you can to win. That feeling is no stranger to a seasoned player of DnD.

It’s just that the majority of the guys who play sports also happen to be the biggest douchebags around. After years of always being picked last and forcing himself into ill-fitting gym clothes, he’s just done with it all. Well, sort of.

Eddie has a crush.

It’s not even really a crush as much as it is a fascination with one Steve Harrington. Steve is just such a bitchy motherfucker. He’s got a mouth on him—both in the way he talks and also just his mouth like fuck—those full pink lips.

Steve Harrington likes sports. He’s good at them and he always has been. But he’s also a good “sportsman” or whatever. He’s kinda graceful. It drives Eddie up the goddamn wall. Steve graduated last year but he still uses the field to run. He was a big track star at Hawkins High so he just does what he wants.

Eddie’s in his senior year. Well, it’s been his senior year the last few years but who’s counting? He’s under the bleachers next to the field, smoking his second cigarette. He inhales slowly, feels the smoke hit the back of his throat. He should probably kick this shit before he fucks his lungs but he’s never been good at staying away from things that are bad for him.

Case in point: Steve fucking Harrington.

Steve is on the field getting ready to run and Eddie can see him from his hiding spot. Steve is stretching. He’s got on these tiny shorts and they make his ass look insane. Steve has these gorgeous hairy legs and from what Eddie’s seen—not in a weird way ok just glimpses in the locker room—he’s got hair all over his body. It adds a whole new meaning to Steve “The Hair” Harrington.

He also has freckles and moles scattered across his skin. Eddie wants to kiss each one of them. He wants to lick the sweat from Steve’s skin. He—should probably stop before he needs to rub one out.

He finishes his cigarette and then two more as he watches Steve for the next hour. Steve runs like he was made for it. Eddie is definitely packing a semi now and that’s just fucking splendid. He waits until Steve leaves the field before slinking out from under the bleachers like a cat. He needs water. He heads inside, pausing at the fountain outside the locker room.

He looks around before tying his hair up in a messy bun. He doesn’t usually wear his hair that way out of the house but he doesn’t want to get any of his hair wet. He drinks, the cool water soothing the residual burn in his throat. He has his eyes closed, so he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears someone say, “Damn Munson, save some for the rest of us.”

His eyes fly open and he straightens up, wiping his mouth. It’s Steve. Of course it’s Steve.

Eddie makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a cough and a nervous laugh. Steve is looking at him with a small smile on his face. “Nice hair.” Eddie nearly dies right then and there.

He can feel the blush in his cheeks as he reaches to take his hair out of the bun—but Steve rushes out, “No no I’m uh, I’m serious. It’s nice. I’ve never seen it like that before.”

Now Steve is the one blushing. Eddie stops fiddling with the hair tie and lets his arms fall at his sides again. Steve has moved closer in his urgency to get Eddie to leave his hair alone. God, he’s so fucking cute. He’s still sweaty from all the running and his hair is all messed up. Eddie wishes he was the one responsible for making a mess of Steve Harrington. What a pretty mess.

He realizes he’s been just staring at Steve without speaking so he just starts babbling, “I saw you running out there. You’re like, really good at that man. I mean I guess you’re kinda good at all sports aren’t you? I hate to admit it, like it pains me Harrington but it’s actually pretty badass. I’m lucky if I win a game of tag, you know. But you, you’re like a gazelle.”

YOU’RE LIKE A GAZELLE?! Jesus fuck. Of all the things to say.

But Steve is just smiling at him like it’s the best thing he’s heard all day. He laughs, a beautiful sound. “Wow, now that is some high praise coming from you.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “From me?”

Steve nods and continues, “Yeah, you and your club were always the real badasses around here. Sometimes I wish I could just not give a fuck. Just do what you do.”

Eddie scoffs at that, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We only act like we don’t give a fuck because it’s better than walking around afraid. Better a freak than a washed-up jock like you and your friends.”

Eddie hears himself as he says those words and wants to smack himself. Hard.

They were having a nice conversation and now he’s just being a dick. To make matters worse, Steve is standing there, the smile gone from his face. He looks like a kicked puppy. He speaks in a quiet voice, “Shit, yeah man I’m sorry. I know we were shitbags to you guys. I’m really trying not to be like that anymore. I’m always gonna carry that with me, but I know I can be better. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated my guts.”

Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he steps even closer to Steve. He makes eye contact which is usually hard for him, and says steadily, “Listen, Steve. I don’t hate you. I just don’t get you sometimes. You used to hang out with that bogus asshole Tommy H and yeah—you were kind of a dingus but you were never the same as him. You’re—you’re—” he falters, afraid of what he might say.

Steve has a strange expression on his face. He just meets Eddie’s gaze and whispers, “Tell me what I am. Please, I want to know. What am I to you, Eddie?”

It’s the first time Steve has ever said his first name. It’s like the energy around them has shifted. He’s practically nose to nose with Steve and he’s so fucking turned on. He knows without fully understanding why, that Steve is too. Steve is kind of swaying closer to him, and it’s like a dream. Surely he’s going to wake up any second. He always wakes up before he gets to kiss the boy in his dreams. But Eddie has a question to answer. He leans forward ever so slightly until their noses are touching.

He hears Steve’s breath hitch. Steve makes him feel brave so he murmurs, “I think you’re amazing Steve. Always have. I liked King Steve and I like you now. I—”

The invisible force between them snaps, and Steve closes the remaining distance.

Steve’s lips are soft and insistent, and he’s holding Eddie’s face and Eddie sighs, letting his mouth fall open. Steve licks carefully into his mouth with clearly practiced skill. Eddie has kissed a few people before but never like this.

Steve’s hands leave his face and then—oh fuck— he’s lifting Eddie up off the ground. Steve’s hands grip his thighs and Eddie wraps his legs around him. He presses Eddie up against the wall, never breaking the kiss. Eddie threads his hands through Steve’s wild hair and pulls him even closer. The kiss is wet and a bit more frantic now but Eddie doesn’t care. It’s the best kiss he’s ever had. They’re both incredibly hard and Eddie can feel it as they move together.

Steve’s hands are on his ass now, pulling Eddie closer as he rocks his hips up against him. They break the kiss, panting hard and Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s. Eddie can’t help the little “ah-ah-ahs” that escape him with each thrust.

Eddie is gonna cum in his pants. They both are.

Before he can overthink it, Steve’s mouth is back on his.

He feels the heat pool in his stomach and whines out, “Oh fuck, Stevie I’m gonna—” his orgasm hitting in waves. He feels Steve shake apart, his hips stuttering and his fingers digging into Eddie’s ass.

Hard enough to bruise. Eddie hopes it does.

Steve slowly sets Eddie down and they cling to each other. Eddie is wrapped up in Steve’s arms, his head tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck. Steve strokes his hair and he’s whispering, “You did so good, Ed. So good. Fucking perfect.”

It’s strangely poetic, Eddie thinks deliriously. It’s the start and end of something. The breaking and the binding. The two of them. Steve and Eddie. The king and the freak—holding each other in the hallway of Hawkins High.

I'd love to start a tag list for anyone interested! please leave a comment or send me a message if you'd like to be added <3

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie x steve #they're so in love it's gross #I just love them

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celtic-crossbow · 22 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 28

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.

A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.

Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.

“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair.

“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”

You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”

Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting.

“Daryl?”

He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”

You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain.

Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip.

Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas.

“Y’okay?”

Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started.

“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”

“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again.

Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”

“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”

You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone.

“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.

“M’right here. Y’okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?”

Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture.

“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything?

“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened. “Y’alright?”

“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.

“Get some sleep.”

With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs.

“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.

It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.

“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"

“She’s sleepin’.”

You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”

“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.”

She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.

You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”

“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!”

You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed.

Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.

Oh shit.

“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him.

Yet.

“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”

“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.

“S’wrong?”

You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”

“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”

“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology.

“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”

“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.

Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”

“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees.

“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants.

“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”

Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”

Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget.

“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around.

“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that.

Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief.

“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”

“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.

“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”

“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?

Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.

“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”

You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away.

You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.

“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.

“Daryl?”

“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit.

“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.

“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”

“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours.

The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.

“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.

“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.

“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?

“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.

Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.

“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”

He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”

“Babies cry. How—what—”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.

“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”

“You’re not—”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.

“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out.

Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.

“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.

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backwzzds · 10 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ for your love, roronoa zoro

zoro’s actions always spoke louder than his words.

zoro wasn’t a man of many words. he never was. the urge to speak never dawned upon up him unless it was at his captain’s orders. but other than that, people were lucky if they even got a grunt from him, or sight from his one good eye.

but when it came to you, zoro spoke a thousand words in such small gestures.

you didn’t think he listened to you often and would tease him about it, but he’d prove you wrong each and every time. he saw you eyeing a beautiful necklace at an island store? he was willing to put himself in debt of 500% interest with nami over and over again for you.

he noticed that you studied all day with no break? he’d draw you away to come ‘help’ him train. and in reality, that consisted of you and him really going on watch for the sunny, basking in the sun to relax. zoro was the very last person to understand what relax meant, but when it came to you, he made sure to be a master at it.

zoro didn’t need to constantly tell you he loved you for you to believe it. you knew it in the way he held your hand on any island you two were on, knowing how he despised public affection. you knew it in the way he silently protected you. the way he listened to you when it came to voicing your opinion to the team. he made you feel safe in his presence, in his arms, and in his little makeshift bed.

you couldn’t help but admire his commitment to you. you two had been friends before your relationship of course, and you knew how zoro was. he played things off as if he was always bored unless it came to using his swords. you had your doubts on his persistence in a potential relationship with you, but you were so glad that you gave him a chance when you did.

“what’s this?” you look up at him when he rested a foreign object wrapped in brown paper on the kitchen table. zoro grumbled and gestured to the gift, motioning for you to open it. when you did, your eyes couldn’t help bur widen at the prize. “you didn’t, zoro!” you exclaim. “these have been out of season all year we’ve been on sea! we haven’t stopped at a winter island in ages, where did you even get this?!”

in your hands was a natural cold-pressed agave plant oil that you only known to be on the winter island you grew up on. you and the crew haven’t been on a winter island since drum island, and that was more than a year ago. you remember complaining all year how the only serum you knew for sure made your hair grow as a kid was nowhere to be found on your trips.

at your previous question, zoro shrugs his shoulder with closed eyes, hoping he didn’t have to tell you just exactly where or how he obtained the oil he knew was precious to you.

you sniff the object and almost collapse when you get flashes of your childhood. after that, you can’t help but grin at him. “you got lost looking for this, didn’t you?”

your man’s cheeks flush a bright red as he dismissed you. “tch. doesn’t matter how i got it. you have it now, right?” your smile grows wider as you jump into zoro’s arms, already knowing he was gonna catch you as reflex at this point. at your shit eating grin, zoro fumbles underneath you. “stop smiling at me like that, you’re being creepy.”

but his feign for playful banter didn’t hide the fact that he did this for you. that he loved you. emotion can’t help but swell your heart as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a loving kiss.

the smooch was slow; sweet. your full lips swallowed zoro’s tan ones in complete whole as you took your time with him. you didn’t try to assert your dominance with his tongue like you usually did, a playful game between the both of you often when you made out. no, instead, you fully submitted to him and his touch. you knew that if zoro released his hold on you in any type of way, you were gonna turn to immediate putty in his hands.

the marimo undoubtedly felt all your love in your lips as you occasionally pecked them only to return to swallowing them. the sensuality of it all is what he loved. your kisses were never rushed unless they were intended to be. but when you really loved zoro, you made sure he felt it in the slowness of your kisses. in the way that your fingers ran through the small curls of his green hair, silently comforting him.

you felt his tongue tangle in yours as he mindlessly sought for domination. you can’t help but smile into the kiss. such a compete, he was.

you had no idea the things zoro would do to make you happy.

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#zoro x black reader #roronoa zoro x black reader #zoro x chubby reader #roronoa zoro x chubby reader #zoro headcanons #zoro imagine #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece zoro #zoro one piece #pirate hunter zoro #zoro x reader #one piece x chubby reader #one piece x black reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece x reader

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coolprettyleo · 1 month

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we can't be friends (wait for your love) - luke hughes

luke hughes x reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: angst. fluff. arguing. breakup. no happy ending. not really proofread, got tired lol

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

your life had been going good, a little too good. you should have knew all too well that the daydream you had been in weren't going to last much longer.

luke hughes. the man who had stolen your heart and gave you the best memories a boyfriend could give a girl like you. for someone who's thought themselves to be the biggest hopeless romantic, meeting luke had been the light in your life.

you had met the younger hughes brother at a frat party. he had been running off a high after a good game and his normally reserved nature had cracked due to the adrenaline from the win, it gave him the confidence to flirt with you.

initially, you had thought he was going to be a casual hookup. you were taught the hookup culture early into your freshman year, when you thought the frat guy you slept with at your first ever party the night before was going to give you the time of day, once the cloths came on.

news flash you learnt something that day. men are sluts.

so when the star hockey player started flirting with you, you had thought it to be just another guy who wanted a hookup. you ultimately decided to live out your fourteen year old selves Wattpad dream and entertain the cute curly haired boy.

you were surprised when you opened instagram the morning after to find he had requested you and from there on out, the rest was history.

it didn't take long for you guys to become the golden couple of the university. you attended his games wearing his jersey, met each others friends and families, and most importantly fell in love with one another's nature.

everything was going perfect for the two of you, until the real world decided it wanted to slap you both across the face. hard.

luke's passion was and will always be hockey. you knew that when you met him and ultimately decided to jump into a relationship with him. you loved every part about him, including hockey; it's what made him, him.

the sport didn't come between the two of you until he moved over six hundred miles away to play it.

you knew it was coming, you've both talked about it but unfortunately talking about it and actually saying goodbye is two very different things.

you loved the curly haired boy but you were beginning to wonder if it was all even worth it anymore. it was clear long distance was not working in your favor.

it had been almost a year since he started with the devils. a year since it all went to shit. a year since this 'rough patch' as luke liked to call it started. surely a rough patch couldn't last this long?

long distance usually makes a couple or it breaks them. it seemed to be breaking the two of you.

you rarely got to see your boyfriend due to the fact he's glued to the team during the season, so it was up to you, to fly out and see him.

you hated flying. so almost every time, your stress levels shot through the roof causing the worst headache known to man kind to come across you. automatically putting you in a sour mood when landing.

flashback

"i don't understand why you're being like this, this whole thing is planned around the fact that the team wants to meet you!" luke said exaspertly as he helped her load her bags in his jeep. he talked about you so much that when jack opened his mouth about you coming to visit, the wags were quick to plan a get-together, and you had just said you weren't up for it.

"i'm sorry luke but I feel like crap. i dont want to put up a character and meet new people right now"

"then don't put up a character, be yourself. that's who I fell in lov-" he said as you rolled your eyes, wincing; seeing as it didn't help the slamming feeling in your head.

"I don't want to Luke!" you cut him off. luke took a deep breath and texted jack to let them know you guy's wouldn't be making it.

looking back at it now; it wasn't that serious. but that headache couldn't make you think straight. that had been the first fight between the two of you. you're pretty sure thats when all his friend deemed you to be the villain and told him he deserved better.

you began to believe that and you knew luke did too. you just wanted this story to die, you knew you'd be alright.

luke on the other hand was clinging to every inch of you he could get; while you clinged to your papers and pens; writing about your misery.

you loved to write so of course you were going to pour your emotions into these stories. hoping the book would understand better then Luke ever could.

you two were laying in his bed, cloths sprawled out across his bedroom floor.

you had landed in jersey last night, ready to pretend and be the picture luke painted of you.

the two of you had the best night, it had been a while since you last seen him and an even longer while since you last seen him and everything felt... right.

you should of known a storm was brewing.

you were leaning your head onto his bare chest, legs tangled between each other as you played with his curls, looking up at him. he was growing into being the most handsome man.

"im so happy your here" he said tracing down your arms.

"me too. I missed your face" you said as you leaned up and kissed his jaw as he blushed. moments like these made you want throw away all the doubts you had about the relationship.

"me too. i can't wait to wake up next to you everyday" he said as your blood ran cold. you were tired of tiptoeing and hiding around the fight you knew was to come.

he'd been wanting you to move to jersey since he moved, the only problem being, is that you didn't want to.

"what's wrong" he said as you moved away his heart falling too his stomach.

"remember how I told you I wanted to graduate first?" you said nervously. he knew you were going to graduate early and the excuse of school was soon going to expire.

"yeah, thats pretty soon. we need to start looking for a place, by the way-"

"luke-" you started, wanting to stop it before it got any further.

"I think it'll do good for jack and I to get space" he said jokingly as he kept rambling,

"I know you've always wanted to live in manhattan, we can get a place there, i can commute-"

"im not coming here after graduation" you said with watery eyes.

you were the villain, at least in this story.

you wanted to experience life. you were only twenty one and the idea of that part of your life ending before you even got to begin it made you want to spiral.

"im sorry?" he said looking at you like you just killed his childhood dog. he would wait for your love a million years, if thats what it took.

"luke- im sorry, but I want to experience things. i want to live this life and know every corner of it-"

"i don't understand. why can't we those things together?"

"im sorry" you said standing up, not really sure what to do anymore.

"are we breaking up" he said with a straight face. you knew he was holding back tears.

"for now, yes" she told him as he put his head down.

you weren't heartless, so you took a seat next to him as you wrapped an arm around him.

"hey, look at me luke. this isn't the end, I'll still always care about you, I want to see you succeed hughsey" you told him as he remebered the night he met you and you called him that.

___

future

luke had been doing amazing; breaking records in the NHL and living life like anyone his age should be. his life was going good.

he obviously missed you but he soon learned he was going to be alright, even though a part of him waiting for your love. your love to like him again.

the smarter part of him knew better, the story was over.

he got home from a game that had went amazing for him and set his stuff down as he opened instagram.

the very first picture being, one of you and your new boyfriend. he knew you moved on and moved to nyc. he's actually ran into you before, both of you acting like you didnt break each others heart into a million peices. acting like old friends.

the reason the picture made his heart drop was due to the fact you were holding up a ring as you looked into the eyes of another. another who wasn't Luke Hughes.

he couldn't do it. he tried, he really did. he wanted to see you succeed and live like you wanted, he just couldn't bare to see it without him in it.

he clicked on her profile as he hovered over the unfollow button. he oh so desperately wanted to pretend to be this daydream but he was reminded of the fact their story had ended. he hit the button and knew he'd be alright.

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this was inspired by an edit I saw on tiktok, and obviously the song too lol. I can't find the edit but like yeah!

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #jack hughes #hughes brothers #njd #jack hughes x reader

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whorekneecentral · 6 months

Text

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess.

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers.

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth.

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much.

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #john stones x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

673 notes · View notes

munivrse · 7 months

Text

Tell your friends

cw: requested! smut. full on. cunnilingus. strap/harness. possessive bada hitting it from the back 🧎‍♀️

a/n: feedback is so greatly appreciated. i rarely write full smut fics so im shaking in my boots about this one. thank u for reading!!

The universe really had it out for you today. You tried to have a simple conversation with annold dance partner, but now you're in front of your girlfriend, sprawled out as she's knuckle deep in your cunt, leaving soft kisses on your lower stomach,

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whine as a response, back arching into her touch. She's been edging you for an hour now.

You wouldn't have been in this predicament if you had just kept your mouth shut. You'd decided to talk up your old dance partner at a party you and Bada attended together. You didn't think much of it until you looked down at your phone. You knew you were in some deep shit, but you couldn't help but play into Bada's possessiveness. It wasn't often that she'd get into moods like this so you could not take this opportunity for granted.

Your old partner makes a subpar joke and to you, you act as if its the funniest thing in the world. You double over, giving them a very nice view into the low cut top you were wearing, grazing their arm, and giving them a cute giggle. It was all fun and games until you felt Bada's chest against your back, one arm snaking around your waist, the other grabbing the drink from your hand and taking a sip herself.

Bada's presence in a room never fails to make people gasp, especially in a room full of both seasoned and rookie choreographers/dancers. She was extremely popular and had the talent to back it up. On top of that, she stands quite tall at around 5'10 and happens to be one of the finest people in the world.

So imagine your previous partner's surprise (and fear) when the Bada Lee peering down at them with an intimidating stare, almost daring them to keep it up with her girlfriend. Bada sets your drink down on the counter and extends a hand out to your partner,

"Hi, I'm Bada, Y/n's partner." Purposely using "partner" to describe the ambiguity of your relationship. Your previous partner looks scared shitless, their hand shakes as they reach out to meet Bada's hand in a weak handshake,

"N-nice to meet you! I'm Y/n's old dance partner."

Bada drops her hand and smiles a smile that would seem kind to an innocent bystander, but you recognized the glint of anger her eyes, and in the way she grit her teeth in her response. Her arm tightening around your waist,

"Hm. I don't think I recognize that name. Would I know your work from anywhere?"

Your ex partner just blinks.

"Well, Y/n, its about time for us to go, huh?"

Your voice shakes as you say your next sentence, doing your best to stay strong,

"Actually, do you mind if I meet you at the car? I want to exchange numbers real quick."

Bada's jaw tightens her eyebrows raise to the sky and you're ready to bust out laughing at any point now. Her face quickly changes back to a sickeningly sweet smile,

"Of course baby. Don't be too long, we've got a long night ahead of us." And with that, she saunters away, not turning back once.

Once you've finished your conversation, you walk out of the party. You see Bada leaning against her car, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. You try to blubber out some excuse as to why your conversation lasted an additional ten minutes, but Bada is having none of it.

Bada grits her teeth, "Get in the fucking car."

No way you're saying no to that. You get into the car, Bada slamming your door shut. As you're driving home her hands are gripping the steering wheel hard.

"Baby you're gonna hurt-" You are quickly silenced with a stern side eye. The rest of the car ride is silent. It's silent as you get out of the car, into your apartment complex, in the elevator, the hallway of your floor, and silent as you shut the door behind you. As you turn around to walk further into the apartment, you bump into a sturdy figure, stumbling back just a bit. When you look up, Bada is wordlessly staring down at you.

She's thinking about ways to punish you. She wants to make you as frustrated as she is. She wants to see you whine and beg for her. She wants to watch as your body writhes under hers as she makes you feel so good. Because you're hers. And it seems like you've forgotten.

So, here we are. Earlier she'd taken her time unzipping your dress, kissing down your shoulders. Leaving hickeys on your chest, down until she reaches your lower stomach. She was being so honey sweet, you had no idea what was in store for you. You've been on edge for so long now. Your brain was fuzzy and the only thing you could think of was Bada's hands in your cunt, her mouth dipping down to circle around your clit and suck.

Bada coos at you, "I know baby. It hurts doesn't it."

You nod your head, a tear rolling down the side of your face. "Good God. Bada- oh fuck- i need to cum."

She chuckles and shakes her head, removing her fingers from your weeping cunt.

"Beg me."

You squeeze your eyes closed,

"You are such a dick."

Bada stands, making her way to the drawer located in the nightstand on her side of the bed. She pulls out one of the many toys you both use.

"Keep it up sweetheart. It's okay. I'll fuck it out of you."

Bada unzips her pants, a harness already present. She giggles when she sees your eyes widen. She leans down, face so close to you that when she talks, you feel her mouth against yours,

"I knew you were gonna be a fucking brat the minute we walked out of the house," She stands upright once more. She makes her way over to the edge of the bed,

"You wore that skimpy ass outfit and expected me to be okay with someone seeing you like this? hmm?" She grips your hips, forcefully flipping you over.

"So the minute I saw you make eye contact with me while-" Bada starts pushing her strap into you and groans, "While you gave that girl false hope. I realized just how fucking reckless you are."

You whine, the silicone cock strapped to your girlfriend reaches so deeply into you it nearly hurts. You pull the sheets above you but Bada tsks,

"Don't fuckin' run from it."

Her arm loops around you to wrap her large hand around your neck, pulling you flush against her still clothed chest. She kisses down the shell of your ear,

"You gonna be good for me, honey?"

You muster up all of the energy you have left in you,

"Fuck off."

Bada chuckles, kissing your cheek. She grabs your hips and pulls you back towards her. You groan and immediately your body goes nearly limp. Bada snorts, "Just a cock-hungry whore, hmm? Looks like you remember exactly who you belong to," She grinds her hips into you, "Nobody could make you fall apart like me, isnt that right baby?"

Your whines coincide with her thrusts into you. She was right. You'd never been fucked like this before Bada. Everyone else was just too soft for you, but not Bada. She wasn't afraid of breaking you, which is exactly what you wanted. You need Bada to break you down and build you back up from nothing. Bada speeds up her thrusts, hips just slight of slamming into you.

"T-Thank you Bada."

She grins against your neck, "You are so very welcome, sweetheart." She lets go of your neck, leaving you to slump against the sheets, the only thing holding you together was Bada's hands gripping your waist, pulling you back against her to meet her in each thrust. She could tell how close you were by the way your hands gripped the sheets. She loved seeing you like this. Pliant. Ready to take whatever she gives you. She thinks about how much of a brat you were earlier and smacks your ass twice in succession.

"You gonna keep being a fucking brat? Or do you wanna go back to being my good girl? mmh? My angel?"

Your cries get louder as she grinds against your g-spot, "Wanna be your good girl- fuck. please let me cum-"

Bada laughs at you, "Say it again and I'll let you cum."

At this point, your brain is mush. Your body tingles and you can feel one of Bada's hands smooth down your back, pressing between your shoulder blades. She was fucking you into the mattress.

" 'M yours Bada. Your angel, please-"

Bada uses the hand pressing between your shoulder blades and runs it up to your hair, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you against her once more. She leaves feather light kisses on your neck, contrary to her forceful thrusts. She makes it back up to your ear, voice barely above a whisper,

"Cum."

You fall apart at this command, writhing against bada, moaning out so loud that she makes a mental note to apologize to your neighbors the next time she sees them. But she grins nonetheless, loving how you're unraveling against her. Your little fists reach for anything to grab on to, trying to anchor yourself back to reality and bada groans, she loved this. She loved you. And hopefully you remember just how much you love her too.

Once you stop convulsing against her, she gently lays you against the bed, pulling out and taking off her strap. Just as you start to regain clarity, wondering where your girlfriend went, Bada is by your side with a warm cloth, ready to wipe you down. She figures you'll both shower in the morning. You watch as she cleans you up, gentle as ever. Her cheeks have a faint flush to them. her bangs sticking to her forehead. You silently thanked the universe for blessing you with a Bada Lee. As you continue admiring her, you notice her avoiding your eyes altogether. Your brows furrow-

"Bada."

She hums without looking at you.

"Look at me."

She freezes for a second and then continues cleaning you up.

"Bada lee-"

"I can't look at you right now."

you look at her, dumbfounded.

"You just fucked me within an inch of my life and you want to act funny?"

Bada just lets out a dangerous chuckle,

"Unless you want me to pin you back down for round two, I suggest you stop asking me to look at you."

You sit up, hand grabbing her jaw, forcing her to look at you.

"Who said I didn't want to go for a second round?"

#smut #bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee req #bada lee smut #bada lee texts #bada x reader #swf 2 x reader #swf2

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moon1833 · 18 days

Text

HAIKYUU! BOYFRIEND HEADCANNONS

Karasuno Edition

DAICHI

Classmates to lovers!

Secretly super nervous around you before you started dating.

The entire team knew he liked you before you did.

Hinata and Nishinoya would bordline harass you to come to practices and games.

Which resulted in Daichi yelling at them frequently.

Of course you came to the games though (you find him leading the time as really attractive too).

Ends up asking you out after you come to a match that they won (Suga pressured him).

He’s extremely chivalrous, insists on meeting your parents and opens every door for you.

Doesn’t make any moves on the first date because he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression. (He really wanted to kiss you though).

You kiss him on the cheek after he drops you off.

Catches him completely by surprise.

You have your first kiss right before a game.

He was nervous, and you came to cheer him on.

You called him over to where you were sitting and kissed him.

“Good luck!” You called out as he was leaving, not missing how red his face was.

Tanaka and Noya were loosing their shit.

As a couple, you’re the team parents.

You always tired to help out with his caption duties, you knew it was stressful for him sometimes.

Leads to the team loving you.

Serious good cop/bad cop relationship.

You get Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata out of trouble whenever they do something stupid.

He loves you too much so he lets it slide (he can’t say no to you).

SUGAWARA

Love at first sight! (He fell first)

Brain turned to complete mush the first time he saw you.

Was sure he’d never see you again but he didn’t go up to you.

You ended up being Kageyama’s older sibling.

He still was too scared to make any moves.

You noticed him when Karasuno played Seijoh (season 1).

You approached him to tell him he played well, and told your brother he could learn a lot from him. (He blushed).

Kageyama is oblivious to his upperclassmen’s feelings. (Everyone else picked up on it the moment you started talking to him).

You thought him being on the bench but still making an effort to be the loudest person cheering on his team was really attractive.

You started picking up Kageyama from practices after school (you really just wanted to talk to Suga).

You thought you were being obvious about your feelings but the Kageyama facial expression™ is genetic.

His pining was becoming too much for the team to the point where Tanaka thought you were already dating.

Eventually gets to Kageyama.

He’s a little upset that he was the last person to figure it out (that Hinata beat him to it) but besides that he doesn’t care at all.

He thinks it’ll benefit his volleyball career, too, so it’s a win-win for him.

Flat out tells you Sugawara has feelings for you.

Part of you already knew, but you were elated.

Asked him to walk you home one day when there wasn’t practice.

“So, my brother tells me someone on your team had a little crush on me.” You loved seeing him get flustered.

He’s upset because he was in the middle of organizing the perfect way of confessing to you.

You end up at a cafe a little while later talking.

Tanaka and Noya were not so secretly spying on you both. (They took a picture of you guys with the flash on).

You thought it was funny.

Suga wanted to explode.

He walks you home, and you kiss him gently before walking into your house.

Kageyama was grouchy the whole night. (He’ll come around).

Kept PDA very light whenever you were around people.

However he’s super touchy in private.

Like he needs to be in contact with you to some degree at all times.

Always laying on you during movies and falling asleep half way through them.

Stopped having Suga over so much because whenever you did Kageyama would come into your room to talk about volleyball. (And he doesn’t knock)

ASAHI

Opposites attract!

You took interest in him first (he didn’t think someone as pretty as you wouldn’t be intimidated by him).

(You weren’t).

Started with you asking him for help in class.

You were pretty outgoing and spoke to everyone so he was surprised you went out of your way to talk to him.

He’s a complete mess around you.

You thought it was sweet.

You’re making every move if you want anything to happen (but you knew that).

Nearly died when you showed up to one of his games.

Nearly did again when you were gushing about how incredible he played.

Actually died when you asked if you could wear his jersey to the next game.

Died again when you did, the jersey being much too big for you. Seeing you in his clothes distracted him almost the entire time.

You end up telling him you like him one morning nonchalantly in the hallway when he was walking to class with you.

Wasn’t sure if he imagined it with how quick you said it.

“You do know I like you, right?”

“U-uh what?”

He’s nervous around you for months, barely initiating anything until he’s sure he won’t make you uncomfortable by accident.

Likes to lay on your chest while you braid his hair.

Still blushes from casual PDA. (He’s always pleasantly surprised you want to show off your relationship)

You pick fights with anyone who gossips about him being an intimidating guy.

“It’s not him you have to worry about, it’s me. So why don’t you say that to my face.”

He’s desperately trying to defuse the situation, but he loves how you defend him.

NISHINOYA

Childhood friends to lovers!

You’ve known him your whole life, but moved away for a few years in middle school.

You moved back in your second year of high school, reuniting with Noya.

He was different, but exactly the same.

You were adamant to not catch feelings, but you couldn’t help it.

The moment you were in his life again, he stopped obsessing over other girls. He didn’t realize it right away, but he knew he didn’t want you to think he didn’t prioritize you.

Forced you to come to every practice so he could walk you home.

Lines of friendship and something more kept getting blurred.

Randomly grabbing your hand when he’s excited.

Possessive, he gets sad if you don’t pay attention to him for a long time.

Genuinely fights off other guys.

He still doesn’t realize he likes you until Tanaka points it out.

Immediately confesses to you.

Dating him wasn’t much different than being his best friend, only now you were more affectionate.

Constantly napping together.

Brags about you to everyone.

Carries a photo book of you because he couldn’t decide on one picture for his wallet.

TANAKA

Matchmaker gone wrong!

Originally was attempting to set him up with Kiyoko (your best friend), but she wasn’t interested.

You two started getting closer even after you told him you didn’t think their plan was going to work.

Was starting to feel like he was only befriending you to get closer to Kiyoko, but he made a lot of effort to hang out with you.

Realized he was catching feelings for you when he would start to look for you in the crowd after each point he scored.

Did a 180 and went to Kiyoko for advice.

You were a little worried when they started getting closer, but your best friend insisted she had no romantic feelings for him.

Ends up confessing to you after a game. (Kiyoko’s idea).

He kinda screams it at you.

You thought it was cute, you kissed him to shut him up.

Parades you around to the team.

He’s protective, but when guys tell him he did a good job scoring you, he’ll just rant about how lucky he is.

He’s obsessed.

Like, genuinely obsessed with you. He proposed at your graduation. You told him ask you again in five years.

He does.

You say yes.

KAGEYAMA

Enemies to friends to lovers!

You both played volleyball in middle school, and you won “Player of the year” over him.

Rivalry started from there.

The girls team practiced in the same gym as the boys did so you were always trying to outdo each other.

When you’d play each other for practice matches you both would play exceptionally dirty.

Ended up at Karasuno because you got injured.

Became a manager for the boys team since the girls team wasn’t as serious and didn’t have a manager.

Had a small fight on both of your first days because he refused to work as a team.

You two could not get along so for the sake of keeping your job as a manager you just ignored him usually.

One game, a few members of the other team had made a few comments about you.

Conveniently, one of Kageyama’s serves in warmups nailed the guy in the face.

Was the first time he made you laugh.

Thought about it for a week.

Tried to make amends with you by showing he was sorry (he couldn’t say it).

Would ask you for tips on how to connect with his team as well as his form.

Admitted he thought you were a better player than him one night, you told him you most likely wouldn’t be able to play again.

Asked him to play for you, placing your hand on top of his.

He almost kissed you that night but he didn’t know how to and panicked.

You wanted him to.

Ended up tutoring him and Hinata, he started going to you for individual help.

Was worried you’d think he’s stupid.

You thought his focused face was adorable.

You were obviously in your feelings for him, but he was adamant that you wouldn’t like someone who struggles showing his emotions so much.

He didn’t think he’d be good enough for you and that you deserved better.

However, the idea of you with anyone else made him so unbearably mad he started putting effort into becoming what you need.

He struggled, but all you cared about was the effort.

Extremely flustered whenever you showed any kind of appreciation towards him.

Like he completely freezes up if you even hug him.

He warms up to physical affection quickly, he loved it from you, he just didn’t know how to return it.

Always falling asleep on top of you on bus rides.

He snores. Not loudly they’re more like sleeping sounds, but you tell him he snores.

Clingy in private.

Loves holding you but loves being held just as much. (He’ll never admit that, though).

YAMAGUCHI

Best friend’s sibling/secret relationship!

Yamaguchi had a crush on you the second he saw you for the first time when he was over at Tsukishima’s house.

He was sleeping over for the first time, and you were heading to the kitchen for a 1am snack while he was leaving the bathroom.

He knew Tsukishima had a sibling, but he had no idea what you looked like. He had no idea you were that beautiful.

You invited him to the kitchen with you for some food, he obliged because he wanted to talk to you.

You knew he was quiet so you did most of the talking, asking him questions.

“Your freckles are really cute, I wish I had freckles.”

No one had told him that before.

He remembered that for months.

Tsukishima knew something was up right away, but he didn’t say anything to Yamaguchi.

He was more worried about you, so he told you to “leave his friends alone”.

You didn’t

You saw Yamaguchi in school occasionally, always going out of your way to say hi (when Tsukishima wasn’t there).

After beating Shiratorizawa, you texted him congratulations.

You both kept texting from there, then calling.

You started asking him for help with homework, claiming your brother was unhelpful (you knew the work).

You started meeting up at the library, both of you mutually deciding not to tell Tsukishima.

After a few weeks of longing stares and lingering touches, you caved.

He was explaining a math problem to you, you were practically shoulder to shoulder, and he looked so adorable trying to dumb down the equation.

You weren’t thinking, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

You pulled back, apologizing, but Yamaguchi had a shy smile on his face.

“Can you do that again?”

Kept it a secret, only meeting at his house. (His mother understood)

Tsukishima found out after walking in on you both making out while Yamaguchi was sleeping over.

“Do you want ice cream?”

He did not care.

Only told you to stay away from his friends because he didn’t think you liked Yamaguchi.

He trusted you both to be respectful and if things did end to keep it civil.

His only wish was he did not want to hear a thing about you from Yamaguchi.

He loves to cuddle with you.

He’ll initiate a lot more physical affection when you’re by yourselves, but in public he gets too nervous.

Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable ever.

Also not huge on PDA.

Loves giving you forehead kisses.

Akiteru saw Yamaguchi with a hickey before he knew you were dating and congratulated him.

Akiteru did not know you were dating for months.

That wasn’t intentionally, everyone just forgot to tell him.

Tsukishima gave a legendary best man speech at your wedding.

TSUKISHIMA

Enemies to lovers!

The first day you met Tsukishima, you thought he was annoying and needed to be put in his place.

So, you did.

Any insult he said (whether it was directed at you or not) was retorted by you in seconds.

He didn’t expect that from you (it intoxicated him).

Being friends with Yamaguchi, you were almost always around.

He called you a pest.

You called him a loser.

And so on.

LOTS of tension.

Both of you always glaring (staring) at each other to the point all your friends think you’re together in some shape, way or form.

Both of you could not get the other out of each other’s head.

Both of you think it’s because the other is just so annoying.

Until Tsukishima has a dream about kissing you.

Now that’s all he can think about.

He starts ignoring you because he’s mad at his own feelings and he’s starting to feel like he has no self control around you.

You notice it immediately, he no longer picked on you or teased you at all.

Instead of being relieved like you thought you should be, you’re rather sad.

About a week goes by, and eventually your mutual friends are sick of all the sulking you’re both doing.

Force you to talk to each other.

Ends up in a shouting match.

You call him a coward, and it strikes something in him.

Mid rant, he cuts you off by kissing you.

You kiss him back, finish your argument and go back to kissing him.

“Go out with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“How chivalrous of you.”

The arguing doesn’t stop now that you’re together, it just leads to other things.

Surprisingly, Tsukishima is extremely emotionally mature when it comes to you.

He doesn’t want to loose you.

You’re his soft spot.

Like it’s so obvious and he almost wants everyone to know it. (He’d never admit it)

Not very possessive unless you’re uncomfortable.

No one was surprised when you got together.

Neither of you are huge on PDA.

Maximum affection you’ll show in public is hand holding.

He uses you as a human armrest occasionally.

“Hates” when you steal his clothes (he leaves them out for you.

You get along well with Akiteru, he loves you.

He’s out like a light if you play with his hair.

Holds you like a stuffed animal to sleep (he can’t sleep any other way).

Surprisingly soft.

Doesn’t say “I love you” for a while, but he does things to show it before he does.

HINATA

Sunshine x sunshine protector!

You grew up as Hinata’s #1 fan.

Helped him with his volleyball skills in middle school and so on.

You were always be his side and it was the same with him.

You’ll tease him of course, but anyone who underestimated him or was insulting him had to deal with you.

Tanaka and Noya call you “Hinata’s girlfriend” (they just think that and no one corrected them).

Started dating by accident.

Hanging out as friends was turning into something else.

Constant hand holding as well as hugs.

Were each other’s first kiss because he “wanted to know what it felt like”.

Kept kissing after that.

Eventually he just starts introducing you as his girlfriend.

“Shoyo, you just told them I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh my god I forgot.”

Chaos everywhere you go.

He’s your best friend and your boyfriend.

He’s always getting you things.

Invites you to every game (you were going either way).

#haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #sawamura daichi #suga #karasuno #headcanon #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima fluff #yamaguchi tadashi #hinata shoyuo #kageyama tobio #asahi azumane #tanaka ryuunosuke #nishinoya yuu

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teeny-tiny-revenge · 3 months

Text

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

#piracy ho!#ofmd #teeny rambles #ofmd dvds

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

Note

Sorry for breaking your window to get in here but since where already on the topic of B & E what about Clarisse x Daughter of Hermes where the Hermes Cabin and the boys from the Ares cabin started a prank war with each other and Clarisse is PISSED because she gets getting caught in the crossfire and when reader breaks into the Ares cabin to set up a prank but she accidentally wakes up Clarisse.

- it’s all fun and games -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Hermes! Reader

An - i feel like I don’t use AN’s properly but who cares also my ao3 series is almost finished also I cuss way to fucking much I mean damn 😭😭 irl I say fuck every 3 words dude I have a problem

An Pt 2 - I Hope thus is good I’m going through a rough writers block rn

For the entire summer. The entire fucking summer clarisse has been dealing with everyone’s bullshit.

Her brothers had for some reason started a season long war with the Hermes cabin. Probably because over some girl which she honestly found pathetic, even though deep down she would do worse if someone tried shit with you.

So here, clarisse currently found herself looking in shock with her cabin floor covered in Greek fire ash marks. Annoyed she mentally came up with a punishment for later. Deep in thought she hadn’t realized you were behind her for cabin check up.

You let out a soft breath before gently hitting the open door. Clarisse turned around, her face going from anger to flustered.

“Hey” she stumbled slightly on her words.

You shyly waved. “Cabin check?” There was a moment of silence, just enough for you to notice the mess behind her. “I can always lie— I know how my brothers get” you tried to offer a better solution than failing the check.

Acting like she was Un-phased she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault. Shouldn’t have to cover for them ”

“Well I’m just trying to help” You chuckled, the gap between you closing quickly.

As much as clasisse complained about the summer there was still one good part, you. Flirting at every bonfire turned into spending free time together which eventually lead to you both kissing at the end of last night. “I guess I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yeah” she shrugged. It was cute how she tried to play off her embarrassment. Reaching out you fixed clarisses necklace, Making it symmetrical on her body. With a sarcastic sigh you looked back at the Greek fire stains before looking back up at her. “I’ll come back in an hour that work for you?”

“Yeah id really appreciate it” she smiled softly.

You wished you were an Aphrodite girl, able to leave a room with beauty and want. Instead you left almost to quickly, embarrassment fueling your steps. By the time you reached the last step your face felt hot, and your body felt fuzzy. She was going to be the death of you.

———

“I’m not doing that” you cocked an eyebrow up as your brothers proposed another prank.

“Just this once” Connor practically begged. Walking past Chris smacked him upside his head, the prank they were trying to get you to do? Sneak into the ares cabin and cover it in silly string. Their reasoning for having you do it was because clarisse wouldn’t kill you.

“If she doesn’t want to do it she doesn’t have to” Chris sighed, taking a seat on his bunk.

Your brothers however couldn’t handle that as an appropriate response. Whispering to each other you saw their faces turn into a devilish grin. “Fine” they started off with false security “You don’t have to do it, but we can always tell Chiron about the secret green plant business you help the Dionysius and Demeter cabin run”

Giving them an agitated look you stood up and snatched the silly string out of their hand. “Fuck you” they always found a reason to black mail you. The trick was starting to get old.

It wasn’t until 12am that you snuck into the ares cabin. Coming in through the window you were a little worried about what a cabin full of war kids would do if someone came in. Looking back one more time to see your brothers giving you a thumbs up from afar.

Calming your nerves you took the first step inside. Silently spraying the string the stale chemical smell hit you like a truck. A few kids tossed and turned, the fear of waking one up made you work faster.

Shoving another empty can into your bag you pulled out the last one. The only section left was clarisses. The section you had been dreading of doing. Silently walking over you caught a glimpse of her drooling in her sleep. You wished your had a camera to capture the rare moment. She was beautiful, even in her most vulnerable state. Snapping out of your thoughts you remembered you had a job to do.

Stepping back with a heavy heart your foot sunk into a loose board, a loud creaking sound filling the room. It was less than a second before you felt a harsh hit to your face and your body on the floor.

Not really paying attention to your surroundings with ringing in your ears. The lights came on and a pair of strong hands grabbed the side of your arms. A few kids were shouting and in the background you could almost make out the front door opening.

Coming back you felt blood trail down your face from your nose and clarisse looking guilty at you. Her hands squeezing your arms as she couldn’t say anything. You groaned and held your head back exhausted.

Being moved to a bed you were barley able to understand what was happening in-front of you. In the background both cabins were yelling at one another, it felt like a fight might break out. Clarisse was crouched infront of you trying to asses your now broken nose. You could tell she was starting to loose her patience.

At first you didn’t hear anything. The ringing went away however when clarisse slammed her spear on the ground commanding the attention to her.

“ENOUGH! Everybody who is not my sibling get out now! And to everyone else I want a first aid kit some ice, nectar, ambrosia, and i want this cabin cleaned now!” A strong silence filled the room before the ares kids got to work. If looks could kill the Hermes cabin would had dropped dead. “Whatever you all have going on ends now understand! Im sick and tired of dealing with all of your bullshit and Luke you need to get a better control over your siblings!”

They nodded. Not even Luke wanted to speak, he just whistled his sibling’s out. In less than five minutes you watched as the cabin almost cleaned itself. In less than five minutes clarisse had began gently trying to bandage the broken bone, trying to take some pain away.

Helping feed a bite of ambrosia you felt your nose begin to mend on its own. Though it would still need a week to heal. Letting out a sigh of relief you finally looked up at her, up at Clarisse who was acting like a coward.

“It’s not your fault” you tried.

“I broke your nose, seems like my fault”

“And you thought I was an intruder it’s not the end of the world” you sighed grabbing her hand. It didn’t matter who was at fault it just came down to how it was handled.

She looked like she wanted to speak but she just couldn’t make the words. “If you really want to make it up to me you can always ask me out on a date” Looking up through your lashes you swore you saw her cheeks turn red.

“Y-yeah I can do that” trying to play it off but it was too late. You giggled slightly, leaning forward to close the gap and softly kiss her. Feel her rough lips against yours.

Her hands found home on your torso, traveling up and down while pulling you closer in an attempt to deepen it. Breaking away only for a moment clarisse looked over at her siblings who some stopped cleaning.

Barking orders at them to continue she looked back with a sarcastic expression making you laugh.

Laying down beside her on the small bed you looked deep into her eyes, not wanting to say a word. It felt like every emotion you two had felt for one another was known.

Giving her another soft kiss you tucked your head away into her neck. It didn’t take long to fall asleep and shockingly for the ares cabin, when the lights were out and everyone was asleep there was a peaceful quiet. One that comforted and lulled a person into a deep sleep.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears

Plot: Joel, Y/n, Henry, Sam and Ellie make their way out of the tunnel system, but Kansas City refuses to let them leave.

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, implied s*ut, language, canon-typical violence, knives, blood, death, loss of a child, s*icide, (16+)

A/N: Oh, we’re really in it, y’all. This is the last chapter in which you get any sense of happiness, so hold it close to your heart. It all really goes to shit after this…

As always, and I really need people to read this, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless their age is listed in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Good night, and good luck, my loves ❤️

———————

May 27th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

The referee’s whistle rang through the air, signaling the play was starting. Sarah had the ball, her team was one goal away from winning the season. If she nailed the shot, she’d bring them to victory.

Now, on his own, Joel was one of the loudest and proudest parents at the games. Adding in Tommy and Y/n had made them their own cheer section.

“Go, Sarah!” Y/n yelled.

“C’mon, babygirl,” Joel clapped, “C’mon.”

“Fuckin’ nail it,” Tommy cheered, earning a light knock to the chest from Y/n, “Frickin’ nail it!”

Sarah wasn’t listening to any of them, she was in the zone. She wound her leg back and kicked the ball, it flew through the air and straight through the goalie’s arms.

Y/n screamed and leapt into Joel’s arms, the whole crowd cheered wildly. Joel spun her around, this felt like a victory for all of them considering how much time they’d spent practicing with Sarah.

After celebrating with her team and taking their yearly photo, Sarah bounded over to her family.

Joel picked his daughter up, not caring if he was embarassing her. Sarah hugged him back.

“You were amazing,” he said, setting her back on the grass.

“You’re so freakin’ good, it hurts,” Y/n grinned, wrapping Sarah in her arms.

“Thanks,” the girl smiled up at Y/n.

Tommy high fived his niece, “Calls for a celebration.”

The four of them drove downtown to the ice cream shop. They parked themselves outside at a table in the shade. In celebration of Sarah’s impending graduation, her recent birthday and Y/n and Joel’s one year anniversary, they were driving down to the beach for a weekend.

“Okay,” Joel said in between bites, “I’ve got the confirmation for the hotel printed out.”

“I’m going to the store tomorrow to pick up the food,” Y/n raised her spoon.

Sarah hummed enthusiastically, swallowing her dessert quickly. “Can you pick me up when you do?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded, “But you can’t run me into debt.”

“Can I come?” Tommy asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

“You will run me into debt,” Y/n replied with a smile.

Tommy reached into his wallet, theatrically handing Y/n a twenty dollar bill. “Beer money,” he clarified.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied, stuffing the money into her jean pocket, “What time are we leaving on Thursday?”

“I figure 9,” Joel answered, “Try and beat the traffic.”

Practical as he was, Joel was also plain excited. This was the first family vacation Y/n was joining them for.

“We’re leavin’ on a Thursday mornin’,” Tommy interjected, “There’s not gonna be any traffic.”

Joel peeked across the table to Y/n, who met his eyes with an equal level of contained enthusiasm. Celebrating one year of her in his life didn’t warrant waiting a single minute longer than necessary.

“Won’t hurt anybody,” Joel responded, shooting his girlfriend a wink.

————————

Come Thursday, the Millers and guest loaded their bags and coolers into Joel’s truck.

“Sarah?” Y/n called from the bottom of the stairs, they were nearly ready to leave and she was still upstairs, “We gotta go, babe.”

“Coming,” she yelled down, skipping out of her room and down the stairs, carrying something in her hand.

“Whatcha got?” Y/n pointed to the small package.

Sarah waved it nonchalantly in the air, “It’s an anniversary present. For you and Dad.”

Y/n’s heart swelled, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did,” she gave a small smile, before scrunching up her face, “Just please don’t make out the entire trip.”

Snorting, Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck and walked the two of them out of the house.

Joel and Tommy had just finished their thirty minute game of Tetris with the luggage. There were so many bags for only four days and four people.

“No,” Tommy called out, spotting Sarah’s present, “Not one more fuckin’ thing comes into this truck.”

“It’s a carry-on,” Y/n shouted back with a smile, patting Sarah’s arm after, “Be there in a minute.”

Sarah skipped off to the backseat, passing her dad as she did. Joel ruffled her hair before locking eyes with Y/n across the driveway. She looked so natural, standing on his porch with his daughter in her arms, locking up the front door with her spare key. She’d settled into the family so well.

“See somethin’ you like?” Y/n smiled, sticking her nose up in the air and letting the sun hit her.

“Somethin’ I love,” Joel replied, walking slowly towards her. He encircled her waist with one arm, his other hand holding her hip.

Y/n let her hands slide up Joel’s chest, “Your daughter has requested a vow of celibacy from us this weekend.”

Joel chortled, “That’s ‘cause one day she woke up and decided us lookin’ at each other was disgusting.”

“Well, then,” Y/n got on he tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Joel’s nose, “Save it for the evenings.”

Joel nuzzled his nose against her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin and the promise of her words.

“What happened to beatin’ traffic?” Tommy teased from the passenger seat.

Rolling his eyes, Joel turned around to his brother and glared at him. Tommy just smirked and tapped his foot against the dashboard.

“Come on,” Y/n intertwined her fingers with Joel’s, pulling him behind her and marching them both to the truck.

“Seatbelts,” Joel ordered as he got in the front seat.

Y/n settled herself in the backseat next to Sarah, who absentmindedly grabbed her hand and started playing with it. Of all the milestones her and Joel had hit in the past year, Sarah’s casual comfort with her was Y/n’s proudest.

“Alright, gang,” Joel started up the car and backed it out of the driveway, “6 hour drive, settle in.”

Y/n and Sarah cheered from the backseat and Joel swore he could feel a physical warmth spread across his chest.

—————————

It took them all day to get to South Padre Island, having stopped for bathroom breaks and lunch on the way, but they made it in one piece.

Their hotel was modest and one of many on the strip that backed straight up to the beach. The view from the balcony was unmatched, nothing but sand and ocean as far as the eye could see.

Their first full day there, they spent all day on the beach. It was early enough in the year that the full force of summer’s heat hadn’t hit yet. Joel stayed with their cooler, messing around on the guitar he’d brought in a beach chair. Tommy switched between relaxing in the shade with a beer and flirting with whatever lucky woman was in their vicinity. Sarah and Y/n walked the shore, searching for seashells.

Leaving Sarah to keep hunting, Y/n walked back to their spot, admiring the sight before her. Joel looked more at ease than she’d ever seen him, strumming away in the cool shade.

“You’re ogling me’,” he said, trying to sound put off.

“You look happy,” Y/n smiled, pushing past the humor.

Joel peeked up over his sunglasses, taking in the wind blowing through her hair and how the sun shone off her skin. “I am happy,” he replied.

Y/n walked around the back of his chair, bending over to encircle his neck. Joel kept on playing, trying to stay focused as she pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

Looking out on the beach, Y/n’s eyes found Tommy, buying some girl an ice cream at a vendor’s cart. She watched Sarah, crouched down in the sand and hot on the trail of a particular shell. With Joel in her arms, and her chosen family happy, she felt like everything in her world was just as it should be.

Y/n rested her chin on Joel’s shoulder, “Me too.”

—————————

They’d celebrated both Sarah’s graduation and Y/n’s anniversary on Saturday night with dinner on the beach. There’d been good food and good laughter, especially when Sarah tried oysters for the first time, managing to swallow the bite with a grimace.

When gifts were exchanged, Y/n, Joel and Tommy had compiled their money to get Sarah tickets to see her favorite band. She’d leapt out of her chair and bear hugged all three of them. For Joel and Y/n’s anniversary, she handed them a CD she’d burned a playlist to. Songs she’d heard them listen to or that the three of them had sung together in the car or while Joel played guitar.

Deep into the evening, when Tommy and Sarah had retired to their room across the hall, Joel and Y/n celebrated their anniversary privately.

Joel’s body weight Y/n’s down, pinning her hands above her head and pressing soft kisses across her face. At some point in the night, she’d slipped on his t-shirt. He was convinced that if there was a heaven on earth, he was in it.

“Promise me something,” Y/n breathed, her lips brushing Joel’s cheekbone.

Joel rubbed his nose against Y/n’s, “Anything.”

Pressed into the bed, completely consumed by the man she loved, with a soft ocean breeze flooding through their balcony window, Y/n was in utter bliss. There was nothing that could have made the moment more perfect.

“Promise me it’ll always be like this,” Y/n whispered, her urging eyes boring into Joel’s, “Even when it isn’t.”

Joel’s grip on Y/n’s hands loosened, letting her slip out of his hold with a need to feel her arms around him. Neither of them were under any illusion that life was without its problems, they’d run into them eventually. But through it all, Joel knew that the one thing that would never fade was their complete and utter devotion to one another. That was forever.

Joel brushed away a strand of hair stuck to Y/n’s face from the ocean’s humidity. He ran the tips of his fingers along her cheek, down her neck, tracing the path his lips had traveled moments ago.

“Always,” he promised, his voice soft, but determined.

The room’s energy was emotionally charged, bringing tears to Y/n’s eyes as she gazed up at Joel. He looked so beautiful hanging over her, it nearly broke her heart. She was so overcome with love for this man, she truly didn’t know if she could handle any more. Joel overwhelmed her in the sweetest way possible.

The moonlight reflected off a single teardrop that slipped down Y/n’s cheek. Joel adjusted himself in concern, taking her face into his hand, “What’s wrong?”

Y/n smiled, she’d never known one could be moved to tears by the simple act of adoring someone. “I just love you,” she pushed past the lump in her throat.

Joel’s breath caught in his chest. Even though he’d heard her say those words a hundred times, something about this utterance felt new.

He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tear’s streak. They lay intwined, coming alive in one another’s eyes. They’d known for months, really since their first kiss, that they’d be together a long, long time…but there, in a beachside hotel, wrapped in lily white sheets and each other, they knew they could never leave one another.

Joel dove back into Y/n’s lips, his hands slipping under his shirt she wore to hold her hips. He prayed that when the day came for him to die, he’d do so in her arms, her kiss stealing his final breath.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

While the tensions were high the whole way, the five survivors made it through the tunnel system with no issues.

“Do you know where we are?” Joel asked Henry as they made their way through a door. He was still suspicious, nothing was ever as simple as a few tunnels and some luck.

“Yeah,” he answered, “The other side.”

Henry shone his flashlight on a dirty sign stating that it was, indeed, the parking lot to the Bank of America building. They’d made it out. Y/n huffed a sigh of relief, it was a much needed win.

The group headed for the street of the residential area, it was dark and empty allowing them the perfect cover. Joel had still insisted on no flashlights, just to be safe.

Joel led the group, with Ellie, Sam and Henry at the rear, and Y/n sandwiched between. She didn’t particularly feel like being near Joel after the conversation with Henry. She was still trying to shake the memories from her brain, twenty years of wasted energy and not a single one had faded.

Joel didn’t quite know what to do either. He felt at war with himself, a poorly docked ship being drawn out to the open waters against its will. It was getting harder to deny the increasing intensity of his pull to her. Not that it mattered, he still considered her a liar and she hated him with a passion that would never die. But seeing her with the kids, showing the humanity still left in her, had left him unsettled. It was like seeing a home he could never go back to.

“No,” Henry said, having just been signing with Sam, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because…my plan worked.

“So much damn talkin’,” Joel remarked from the front of the group.

“I’m just saying,” Henry continued, “I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house…and we’re out.”

Y/n and Joel wanted to believe that they were home free, but they’d seen more of the current world than anyone else in the party. Things that seemed too good to be true, almost always were.

“So we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asked, “Where ya gonna go?”

“Don’t know yet,” Henry shrugged.

“Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming,” Ellie announced.

Joel glared back at her, earning a light hit to the arm from Y/n, who glared right back at him.

“What?” Ellie replied, “It’s a huge state, it can fit two more people.”

“Yeah,” Henry stretched the syllable, not any more keen on the idea than Joel, “Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.”

Y/n drifted to walk alongside Joel, his stubbornness breathing a little bit of life back into her. “If you’ve got any happy pills left in your pocket,” she muttered low enough for only them to hear, “I suggest you take them.”

Joel shook his head, glancing out the side of his eyes at her. He couldn’t decide if her silence or her snark was preferable.

“No, he’ll change his mind,” Ellie said to Henry, “Trust me. This is how it goes, he’s like,” she dropped her voice and added a twinge of an accent, “‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.”

Y/n couldn’t stop the snort before it escaped her, it physically jerked her body forward. When she looked up, Joel’s hardened stare was resting on her.

“That supposed to be funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Y/n smiled, still trying to contain her laughter, “And you know it.”

“And then I’m like,” Ellie continued, “‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like-“

A gunshot flew past them, killing only the levity.

Joel and Y/n ran for Ellie at the same time, colliding with one another in a heap of arms.

“Move! Move!” Joel ordered, shoving both of them forward, “Go!”

The five of them dove for cover behind an abandoned car, crouching on the asphalt.

“Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asked, shielding Sam with his body.

“Shut up,” Joel ordered, peeking his head above the trunk of the car to scan the area. As soon as he was semi-visible, another gunshot hit one of the nearby vehicles.

Henry tried to get a look at the house where the fire seemed to be coming from, earning another close call.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing Sam’s hand, “Let’s move. Let’s go.”

“Henry!” Y/n shouted through her teeth.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yelled, not budging.

“Getting the fuck outta here,” Henry called back, barely making it to the other side of the road before another shot blew past them. He rushed him and Sam back to the first car, “What do we do?”

Y/n and Joel’s brains were working overtime, trying to figure out the best possible course of action. Joel, closest to the house he guessed the gunman was inside, peeked out once more and got another near fatal shot. He was right.

“All right,” Joel breathed, “Stay here.”

“What?” Y/n and Ellie exclaimed in unison.

Joel turned to them, addressing Ellie but drifting his eyes to Y/n at the end of each sentence. “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.”

“No,” Y/n blurted out, “No fucking way.”

“Yeah, if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you,” Ellie agreed.

“It’s dark and he has shit aim,” Joel countered, “Nobody’s gonna kill me.”

“Then he’s gonna kill us,” Ellie replied.

Joel’s eyes flicked between the kid and the woman behind her. He addressed Ellie first, “Do you trust me?”

Hesitating, but eventually rolling her eyes and nodding, Ellie answered.

Joel looked up to Y/n, silently begging her to listen to him. He’d trusted her when Ellie had revealed her immunity, now he needed her to do the same.

Y/n wanted to be unreasonable and illogical, to stew in her anger a little longer. But Joel hadn’t failed them yet on their journey, this wasn’t the place to start.

“You go around the left,” Y/n countered, “I’ll create a diversion so he won’t see you coming.”

“You stay here,” Joel replied, his voice turning to steel.

It was the first time that Y/n didn’t want to argue. She withdrew her pistol from her holster, “I wasn’t asking.”

Joel was busting his ass trying to make sure she was safe and she was throwing herself into open fire to protect him. He felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n took Joel’s reluctant nod and mirrored it, hoping she looked more confidant than she felt. They both brushed a hand against Ellie’s arm, who was terrified to let the only two people she cared about run headfirst into danger.

Joel and Y/n crossed past one another, he grabbed her arm to stop her. The pain-stricken worry in both their eyes communicated all that they couldn’t out loud.

They took up their positions on either end of the car, cocking their guns and drawing a deep breath. Joel nodded to Y/n, signaling for her to move.

Y/n jumped out from the car and ran for the one directly across from her. A gunshot kissed the air behind her, she slid into the asphalt behind the vehicle like it was third base. She could feel the fear creeping up her spine, threatening to break her, but breaking wasn’t an option. Tess’ last wish rang in her ears; keep Joel safe.

Spotting the next car, in the row, she made a beeline for it, dodging two shots on each side of her. She kneeled behind the trunk, peeking out just enough to fire a distracting shot towards the house.

“C’mon, Joel,” she whispered.

Joel was making his way down the street, Y/n serving as the most perfect and unwelcome distraction. Every shot sent a cold shot of panic through him, terrified that the gunman was going to be too quick for her. Just before making it behind the house, he snuck a look over his shoulder and caught her racing across the street, dodging more fire. It urged him to move faster.

Y/n was getting closer and closer to the house, praying that Joel had made it. When she made a clean run to the next car, she assumed that he’d put a stop to the fight. A final shot rang out, but it had come from a different gun. Joel’s gun.

Y/n slumped against the car and exhaled, he was safe.

Joel felt grief pass over him, a drop of it trickling down his throat, as he grabbed the old man’s rifle. He was about to stick his head out the window and signal to Y/n that they were clear, until a sound caught his ear.

“Anthony…Anthony…” a staticky voice called, Joel tracked it beside the old man’s body and found a walkie-talkie, “Anthony, hold them where they are.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, rushing to the window, “Run!”

Y/n stood up, Joel’s voice reassuring her they were in the clear before she registered his words.

“Run!”

Y/n bolted back toward Ellie, Sam and Henry. In the near distance, she could hear the sound of a truck. The same one they’d been dodging for the past day.

“Run!” Joel urged, watching Y/n’s shadow run straight towards the threat.

The truck’s headlights shone down the street, shining right on Y/n. She collided with Ellie, wrenching the girl ahead of her and racing back towards the house. Behind them, the fleet of trucks were beginning to plow through the rows of cars.

Determined, Joel started to fire at the truck’s windows, trying to take out the driver.

Blindly, Ellie and Y/n began to fire their pistols at the main truck after them. Without being able to take proper aim, their attempts failed, but they kept trying.

Ellie’s gun ran out of bullets as the truck began to gain on her. Y/n wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pushing her to go faster. Ellie tripped, bringing Y/n down with her. Y/n enveloped the girl in her arms, putting her body between the truck and Ellie.

At that exact moment, Joel had fired a perfect shot, taking out the driver and causing the truck to crash through the front of a nearby house. He’d bought them mere seconds, a whole fleet of cars were behind them and their passengers were about to surround Ellie and Y/n.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, pulling Ellie to her feet, “Move.”

They’d barely made it two steps before they were thrown to the ground again by a blast. The crash had somehow started a fire and both the vehicle and the house surrounding it were set ablaze.

The smoke filled Y/n’s lungs, restricting her airways and letting dizziness to set in. The only clear thought ringing through her head was Ellie, save Ellie.

Joel watched helplessly as Ellie and Y/n lay on the ground. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, waiting for them to get up. Henry, a godsend in that moment, darted out from behind a car and pulled them both to their feet.

Y/n stumbled back to the car Henry had sought as protection, blindly reaching for Ellie and making herself a barricade once again.

“You okay?” Henry asked them both.

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered, Y/n gave a breathless nod.

Up above the flames, Joel watched a group of rebels walk through the smoke with guns drawn on his window, calling out orders to raid the house. They’d found him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, hiding behind the wall. Unlucky for them, Joel wasn’t so easy to throw in the towel and lose his life.

Below, Kathleen surveyed the damage, strolling casually amongst the flames. “Dead end, Henry,” she called, “Gonna step on out? Save us some time?”

“Is that her?” Y/n whispered, Henry nodded in response.

“No?” Kathleen asked, her tone was eerily even, “That’s all right. Doesn’t matter.”

Henry looked to Sam, who Y/n had an arm around, and knew what he had to do. “I’ll come out,” he replied, “Just let the kids go!”

“No,” Kathleen responded, “Sorry. The girl is with the two who killed Bryan, don’t think I don’t know that the woman’s back there with you too.”

Y/n shut her eyes, the back of her head digging into the car. She knew she’d die eventually, she woke every day faced with the possibility of death. But she wasn’t about to die before she could get Ellie out west.

Joel’s blood ran cold at Kathleen’s words, his hands squeezing the rifle tighter. He had to fight every instinct to fire a bullet straight through her head.

“And Sam” Kathleen continued, “Well, Sam’s with you.”

“You don’t understand,” Henry yelled.

“But I do,” she said calmly, “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

“He’s just a fucking kid!” Henry called back.

“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time.”

Y/n’s fear turned to shock and that shock turned to rage. Deep, bitter, twenty year old rage.

Joel watched carefully from his spot, feeling the anger swell in him.

“You think the whole world revolves around him?” Kathleen continued her monologue, “That he’s worth everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

Henry turned to Y/n and Ellie, bracing himself for his own fate. “Get ready to take him, and run,” he instructed.

“No,” Y/n argued, “I’m not-“

“Yes,” he said, his voice like steel, “Do it.”

Y/n gave in, nodding and taking Sam’s hands with Ellie. “You stay in front of me at all time,” she instructed, reaching out for the girl, “If I go down, you don’t turn back.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, “But-“

“You don’t turn back,” Y/n repeated, forcing her voice to sound strong.

“It’s time, Henry,” Kathleen gritted, her soft voice suddenly dripping with venom, “Enough!”

Henry took a few shuddering breaths before getting to his feet, hands raised in the air. Sam anxiously started to go after his brother, but Ellie and Y/n pulled him back to the ground. The three of them sat there, Y/n and Ellie’s pulses racing as they waited for the inevitable sound, their signal to move.

“It ends the way it ends,” Kathleen said, her calm demeanor returning.

Y/n froze as she listened to Kathleen cock her pistol, squeezing Sam’s hand a little tighter.

But the bullet never came.

Instead, there was a terrible creak from the totaled truck. Ellie scrambled to get a peek while staying hidden, Y/n held up a hand to her and poked the tip of her head out. Just enough to see the car sink into the wreckage of the burning house.

Joel aimed his rifle and came to the window, watching it all happen from above.

Three ominous seconds of silence.

And then they came.

Hordes of Infected came sprinting out of the sinkhole.

Henry rushed back to their spot, Y/n and him shoved the kids in between them and sinking against the car as far as they could. One of the Infected leapt on the hood, a well-timed bullet sinking into its skull.

Joel reloaded the gun, waiting for the next shot.

“Come on,” Henry called, the four of them got to their feet and took off in the direction of the embankment.

Ellie obeyed and stayed ahead of Y/n, who was frantically cocking her handgun. One Infected was chasing after them and she couldn’t get her weapon ready in time.

Joel aimed at the creature trailing Y/n and fired. The body lurched forward, falling on Y/n and causing both her and Ellie to topple to the ground.

Somewhere in their fall, Y/n and Ellie had lost sight of Henry and Sam. Y/n kicked the dead body off of them and glanced up towards the house, she knew who was acting as their guardian angel. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a job to do as well.

“Car,” Ellie yelled, having quickly crafted a plan in her head.

“Stay low,” Y/n responded.

The two of them army crawled their way through the chaos, screams of both the living and Infected filling the air.

Joel tracked their movements, shooting down any Infected that even looked in their direction.

Ellie and Y/n ran the final distance and dove into the abandoned car through an open window. As Infected began to crawl across the behicle, banging against the windows, one of Joel’s bullets took each one out.

“Get to the back,” Y/n instructed.

The two of them crawled over the seats, taking shelter in the very rear of the vehicle. Ellie’s eyes were wide with terror as she watched the scene play through the dirty glass.

Joel saw them make it in, but his relief didn’t last long. He watched as one of the Infected snaked through the window and into their car. His breath trembled, taking aim and realizing he couldn’t do a damn thing to help them.

Y/n and Ellie heard the dreadful snarling together, their heads turning to watch the Clicker flip through the front seat of the car. Y/n raised her gun and took aim.

Click.

She was out of bullets.

Joel’s brain switched off, his primal instinct to protect taking over as he fired relentless shot after relentless shot, trying to take the Infected out.

The Clicker acrobatically made its way through the car. Ellie blindly reached for the door handle, whimpering in fear as she couldn’t open it. Y/n kicked it with her boot and it swung out, she shoved Ellie roughly out of the car. Y/n slid out, slamming the door behind them and feeling the slam of the Clicker throwing itself against the window.

Joel had lost visual on them briefly, but saw the swing of the car door and how it was still rocking. They’d trapped it.

Somewhere in the noise, a child’s cry could be heard. Y/n’s eyes darted around them, finally spotting Henry and Sam trying to fend off a group of Infected underneath a car.

“Help! Get the fuck away!“ Henry screamed, kicking at one of the creatures, “Get the fuck off me!”

Ellie looked first to Y/n, who was already pulling out her knife from where she hid it in her boot, before they both looked up to where Joel was. Y/n could barely make out his face with the distance.

Joel looked down, knowing that they couldn’t possibly be making eye contact from so far away, but knowing that they were on the same wavelength.

They had to work as a team.

“Go!” Y/n yelled, and they were off.

Joel shot with more precision than he ever had, this was the most he’d ever had at stake. As Y/n and Ellie moved through the crowd, he took out every Infected that were heading for them. He worked as a machine, but the terror he felt was the most human sensation he’d experienced in years.

Y/n shed her humanity, becoming more beast than woman, mercilessly ripping through the throats of any Infected that came near Ellie. She swung onto one’s back, stabbing her knife into its head, and let the collapse of its body land her back on the ground.

Joel and Y/n worked seamlessly together, ground and aerial coming together to protect the one thing that couldn’t be lost. Or in Joel’s case, two somethings.

Ellie and Y/n finally made it to Sam and Henry, there were two clickers still clawing at them. One dragged Henry out from underneath the car, Ellie got behind it and stabbed it. Y/n wrenched the Clicker attacking Sam backwards, staring into where its eyes would have been as she sliced through its heart.

A bullet whizzed past her head, landing in the monster’s skull. Joel needed to be sure.

“Come on, come on,” Ellie helped their friends to their feet, “Go! Go!”

Y/n shoved Ellie in front of her again and they fled the chaos, climbing into the lawn of the house Joel was in.

“Stop!”

The four of them turned to see Kathleen with her gun aimed at Henry, but her eyes flicking between him and Y/n. They didn’t have time to fear for their lives, they clocked the same Clicker who’d almost gotten her and Ellie creeping up an old piece of furniture behind Kathleen.

Kathleen heard the sound, turning around just as the Clicker shot through the air and latched onto her. They watched in terror as the creature claimed the resistance leader’s life.

Joel hurried out of the house, running faster once he saw Y/n and Ellie. He stopped a second, watching as Kathleen lost everything she’d fought so hard for, but didn’t care so long as his people were safe.

“This way now,” Joel yelled, grabbing Y/n’s arm to urge her forward, “Move!”

The group took off, leaving those who had sought to kill them to their fates. Joel and Y/n ran together, keeping one hand on each other the whole time. Their grudge was suffocating, choking under the weight of their undeniable devotion to one another.

————————————

The motel the group landed was a haven to their weary eyes. They broke into one of the rooms and tried to get it through their heads that they were safe. Joel had made sure that no one followed them, they were miles away from any Infected. They could breathe.

Once Ellie and Sam had been squared away with food, they went into the bedroom and began reading Ellie’s collection of comic books. They were either bouncing back spectacularly fast or burying their fear.

Henry, Joel and Y/n sat out in the main room, trying to come down from what they’d just been through. Since fleeing the hellish nightmare, Joel and Y/n hadn’t left each other’s side. She hadn’t even bothered with putting space between them when she sunk down onto the floor. They were pressed against one another and neither of them minded.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asked, picking at a bit of his food and watching his brother from the next room.

Y/n’s eyes drifted to Ellie, she was growing more and more worried about the girl’s psyche. She’d seen so much in such a short span of time.

“Yeah, I think,” Joel answered, “It’s easier when you’re a kid, anyway,” he met Henry’s stare with intention, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

“Well,” Henry looked down at his food, “I guess we’re doin’ a good job then.”

Y/n and Joel both looked to the kids, Ellie was helping Sam to read one of the pages.

“What’s that comic book say?” Joel asked, “‘Endure and survive?’”

“Endure and survive,” Y/n repeated.

Henry chuckled, “That shit’s redundant.”

Joel shook his head, this was as close as he’d come to laughing with another person. “Yeah, it’s-it’s not great.”

Y/n gave a small smile, not quite to the point of being able to laugh about any part of the day.

Joel turned to look at her, drawing her gaze to him and focusing on the two quirked corners of her lips. It used to be his favorite game, making them rise until she’d complain her cheeks hurt. Tonight was the first night that he’d been able to make her smile again, and the little bit of his old self that was on life support took a breath.

Y/n let her eyes drift across Joel’s face, resting in the way he returned it. It was a dangerous fucking place to be, but after what they’d just gone through, she was too tired to fight her way out.

A loud laugh from Ellie snapped them out of whatever moment they were having.

“Look,” Joel turned to Henry, “I don’t know exactly how we’re gettin’ to Wyoming, we’re probably walkin’. But,” he stopped, still uncomfortable with the full spectrum of his emotions, “You know, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Henry answered instantly, “Yeah. Um…yeah, I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.”

“Oh, trust me,” Y/n smiled, looking on to Ellie, “You won’t find anyone friendlier than her,” she glanced at Joel, “Then again, we don’t set the bar very high, now do we?”

Henry laughed under his breath, even Joel couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “No, you don’t,” Henry replied, “I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

“We’re not getting anywhere if we’re carrying them on our backs,” Y/n remarked, dusting the crumbs off her jeans and getting to her feet.

Henry got up with Y/n and heading into Sam and Ellie’s room. He knocked on the door and began to sign to Sam.

“Whatever he’s saying,” Y/n pointed to Ellie, “Same goes for you. Real adventure starts tomorrow.”

Ellie rolled her eyes lightly as Y/n approached, letting her take the comic out of her hand and place it on the nightstand. “Hey,” she said, “Is Joel’s brother like him? All grumpy and constipated?

“He is,” Y/n started, a flood of pleasant memories hitting her, “Way more fun. Not a stick to be found up his ass.”

Ellie snorted, Y/n knew she’d fall in love with Tommy in a minute. Everyone did.

Y/n ran a hand over Ellie’s head, they weren’t close enough for a hug but she wanted the girl to know that she had someone that cared about her. If Joel was her protecter, Y/n wanted to be her comfort. The oasis she could run to in the desert.

“Get some rest,” she ordered.

“Why?” Ellie cocked an eyebrow, “So you and Joel can have more time to cuddle?”

Y/n knew she’d be paying for her unconscious choices as long as Ellie was around to witness them. She lightly pushed her forehead, sending Ellie back on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“Will Livingston dies a slow and painful death if you ever bring that up again,” Y/n retorted, giving Ellie a pat on the leg after, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Ellie called in a teasing tone.

Y/n stopped by Sam’s bed, tapping his hip to get his attention. She signed ‘endure and survive’ back to him, Sam nodded with a smile.

“Practicing,” Y/n beamed, earning herself a thumbs up, “Goodnight.”

She left the room before Henry, Joel hadn’t moved from their spot against the radiator. The door had been open the whole time.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “‘Stick up my ass?’”

Y/n leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms, almost relaxed. “I said what I said,” she smirked, “She called you constipated.”

Joel shook his head at her, fond memories of her and Tommy ganging up on him filing his head.

He wouldn’t tell her that he’d heard the whole conversation.

Henry exited the room, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m exhausted,” he said, staking out the far right corner of the room for himself.

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed.

Joel rose up from the ground, already dreading trying to do another bed time shuffle with Y/n. He glanced over at her, first spotting the blood seeping through her bandages.

“Your hand,” he said, crossing the space between them.

“Huh?” Y/n furrowed her brows, holding it up to examine it, “Oh, shit. I didn’t even feel that.”

Joel was hesitant to grab it, but was itching to fix it up. “Adrenaline,” he settled for.

“So much for sleep,” Y/n grumbled, bending down and picking up her backpack.

Joel followed, setting the corner table back on its feet along with the two nearby chairs. Henry was already asleep in his corner. Joel sat down across from Y/n and watched as she pulled out the first aid kit. As she unpacked the supplies, his fingers began to twitch with nervous energy.

Y/n picked up on his fidgety state, stopping what she was doing to look at him. “Are you really that much of a control freak that you need to do this?”

Joel didn’t know what he was, just that he needed assurance that she was going to be alright. The only satisfactory way to do that was to do it himself.

“Fine,” Y/n scoffed, sliding the kit across the table to him, “Have at it.”

Joel unpacked the same supplies they’d used yesterday as Y/n unwrapped her hand. He was glad she’d taken extra gauze from his stash back in Massachusetts, they were running low.

“How long do you think it’ll take to get to Wyoming on foot?” Y/n asked as Joel grabbed an alcohol wipe. She’d already clotted, but the sites still needed to be cleaned.

He bristled, “A long fuckin’ while.”

“And are we measuring that in miles or kilometers?” Y/n asked, her tone deadpan.

Joel nearly smiled, gently rubbing the wipe over the bloody surface. Y/n hissed as it made contact with her skin, digging into her chair and drawing a deep breath after.

“Killed, like, four Clickers,” Joel decided to joke, never looking up from his ministrations, “Can’t handle a little wipe.”

“Says the man who can navigate his way across the country, but couldn’t explain a siphon to a fourteen year old,” Y/n remarked, matching his wit.

Joel peered up, a small smirk playing on his lips, mimicking the one on Y/n’s. This was the longest they’d gone without fighting during a conversation. One shift could turn the almost peaceful moment to a shipwreck.

“What happened out there tonight?” Joel asked, his mind still spinning from anxiety.

“Ran out of ammo,” Y/n answered, she know immediately what he was referring to, “Perfect timing, huh?”

Joel scoffed and ran a second alcohol wipe over her wounds. “Yeah,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

“But there was this weird guy hiding out in an abandoned house who took care of things,” Y/n remarked, her eyes traveling from her and Joel’s hands to his face.

Joel paused and met her stare, surprised that she was acknowledging his effort at all.

“Thank you,” Y/n continued.

Joel shook his head, returning to his work, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Would you rather me say ‘Fuck off, you dick. I can take care of myself?’”

“That would fall in line with what you usually have to say,” Joel replied, reaching for the gauze pads.

Y/n nodded in reply, a smile pulling at her cheeks. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, only that she was traumatized, tired, and in need of someone to talk to. If that someone came in the form of Joel, then so be it.

Joel tried to focus on Y/n’s wound, breaking it down into steps. Sterilize, gauze, wrap. He couldn’t get caught up on the fact that they were getting along. As benign as the it sounded, it was leaps and bounds ahead of where they’d come from.

Y/n, on the other hand, had nothing to do but sit and wait for him to be done. She watched how precisely he placed the gauze pads, as if one inch off their assigned spots would cost her her life. It reminded her of how precise he’d been with his lips, his hands. Every touch had carried purpose, the ultimate goal to make her know how much he loved her.

This touch, so warm and gentle, felt the same to Y/n.

Much like the day before, it took a lot of effort on Joel’s part not to get caught up in the feel of Y/n’s hand against his. He wrapped a fresh strip of bandage around it, weaving the roll between her thumb and under her palm. Back at the house, watching her narrowly avoid Infected had choked him. Every five seconds, she’d been brought to the edge of death, only for one of them to strike back at the very last moment. It had drained any and all energy left in Joel’s body, and had brought on a whole new set of questions.

If he were to lose her or Ellie at this point, what would it do to him?

He anchored the bandage down, sealing Y/n’s wound, and tried to escape the scenarios his mind was creating. They were alive, they were safe, and they would make it to Wyoming. If that was what he needed to keep repeating to himself the whole way west, he would.

“At the risk of inflating your ego,” Y/n examined his work, “Well done.”

Joel didn’t respond, he simply handed her the supplies to pack up. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, or rather, what he wanted and what he knew he couldn’t have.

Y/n threw the kit back in her backpack and came back to where they’d been. Joel was already kneeling down on the ground, removing and balling up his jacket. She didn’t want to land herself in another situation where cuddling up to Joel was a possibility, she also didn’t want to infringe on Henry’s personal space.

“You mind keepin’ an ear peeled?,” Joel asked, it was like he could read her mind, “In case I roll over on the wrong side again.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, coming to sit beside Joel with just enough space between them. Close enough to protect, far enough away for clear minds.

Joel stretched out one arm just above Y/n’s head. It wasn’t the closest they’d been in the past day, but it was certainly the most intimate. Y/n was facing him, the top of her hair nearly grazing his forearm. Every signal in his brain told him to roll over, put another wall between them, but there was a stronger thought that cancelled the noise.

He simply didn’t want to.

Y/n adjusted herself on her jacket and was left with nothing left to do but stare at Joel. The lines on his face were deeper, his features had grown sharper, yet somewhere underneath it all…she could still see the man she’d fallen in love with in the heat of an Austin summer. Perhaps that was what was playing with her mind the most; how she got glimpses of Joel as he was before morphing into the new version. She used to wonder what age would do to them and she knew that if Cordyceps had never mutated, Joel’s frown lines would be smiles lines. The skin underneath his eyes would wrinkle from deep laughter. And in the times where his brow would crease with concern, a single kiss from her would have relaxed the muscles.

It was enough to bring her to tears.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, his voice gruff but his words filled with concern.

It was all wrong. All of it. Everything that had happened to them. Everything the world had become. Risking their lives every day for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

It was all so horribly wrong.

“I’m just tired,” Y/n spoke past the lump in her throat, “Really fucking tired.”

Joel wanted to reach out, place a finger underneath her lashes to catch her tears before they fell. In another life, he’d have taken her in his arms and grazed his lips across her ear. He’d have called her Rosebud and told her to sleep, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her.

But he’d lost the right to act on such feelings a lifetime ago.

“Get some sleep,” he replied, it was the only part of the urge he could listen to.

Y/n shook her head, smiling with sadness, “It’s not that kind of tired.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Joel understood those six words better than any other. His exhaustion went so far past his backaches or cracking knees. His soul was seeking rest that it would never find.

It wasn’t lost on either of them that it took nearly dying for them to start drifting back to one another. The hate faded into background noise, or ceased to exist at all. They picked up their anger when they were safe, because it took effort. It took effort to stay mad, a fire requiring constant attention. But protecting one another was natural. At the end of the day, all that had transpired between Joel and Y/n would never come in the way of saving one another. Hate was a choice, care was an instinct.

Joel’s soft gaze traveled across Y/n’s face. “Try,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, her eyes still resting on Joel. She knew if she stared at him a minute longer, she’d no longer be able to choose hate.

Though she’d never know it, Joel felt the exact same way. He was becoming weaker and weaker for her with each moment they spent together.

They didn’t bid each other goodnight, they didn’t even fall asleep at the same time, despite sharing the same exhaustion. Joel stayed awake a few extra minutes after Y/n drifted off. He watched her frown relax, her brows unclench and her chest rise and fall, keeping the same steady beat that used to lull him to sleep.

—————————

Y/n had scooted closer in her sleep, her and Joel’s bodies still not touching but their breaths mingling together.

Had they awoken with the sunlight peeking through the blinds, strips of the warm glow across their eyes, urging them awake, they wouldn’t have backed away. It would have been the first time in twenty years they’d have woken up to one another. They wouldn’t have been mad.

Instead, they startled awake to the sounds of screams.

Joel and Y/n sat up in time to see Ellie fall out of the door, a snarling Sam jumping on her and pinning her down. Henry woke not two seconds after them, barely able to register the sight.

Sam was infected.

Joel was the first to reach for his handgun, but Henry was quicker and yanked it away. He had it aimed at Y/n and Joel before they were even on their feet.

“Nope, nope, nope,” he warned.

“Joel!” Ellie’s heartbreaking scream filled the room, “Y/n!”

Joel and Y/n took one step in Ellie’s direction and Henry fired a shot at their feet. Joel shoved Y/n behind him, she clung to his arm.

“Joel!” Ellie shrieked again, begging for help from either adult, “Y/n!”

Before they could have a coherent thought, it was all over.

Henry turned his gun on Sam.

He fired a single bullet.

Sam collapsed to the floor.

Ellie sat up with tears in her eyes.

Joel lowered his hands, but Y/n still kept a firm grip on him.

“Ellie,” he breathed, his heart was racing, “Are you okay?”

The girl looked to her guardians, shocked and heartbroken.

They took a cautious step towards her, but Henry put a stop to it as he trained his pistol back on them. Joel threw his arm back out in front of Y/n, not knowing what the man might do.

Distraught seemed too small a word to describe the expression on Henry’s face. He was gutted.

Joel ensured Y/n was still fastened to him before he cautiously held out his hands to Henry, “Easy, easy, easy,” his voice was barely audible, “Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry choked out.

Joel shushed him, as one would a wild animal on the verge of attacking.

“What did I do?” Henry asked again, “What-what-what did I do?”

“Henry,” Y/n nearly whimpered, her breath trembling as she did, “Henry, stop, please.”

Henry stared through his tears at his little brother’s body, blood spreading across the floor, “Sam?”

Joel urged with a new desperation as the realization deepened, “Henry, gimme the gun.”

“Henry, please,” Y/n let go of Joel, taking a calculated step forward, “I know. I know.”

“Gimme the gun, Henry,” Joel continued.

Henry’s eyes, still focused on his brother, glazed over as he raised the gun to his temple.

“HENRY, NO!” Joel cried out.

Y/n rushed past Joel, “HENRY, I KN-“

It was too late.

As it happened, Joel jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling her into him.

“No!” Y/n screamed, she lurched forward as if she could still save him.

Y/n’s eyes were flooded with tears, her sobs tearing her apart so hard that they came out silent. When the noise finally came, it was a guttural cry that might come from a wounded animal. Y/n’s knees gave out on her, Joel caught her and helped lower her to the ground. He kept his arms tight around her as she wailed.

When Y/n came to, and she realized Joel was holding her, the rage reignited. “Get off me,” she yelled, clawing her way out of his embrace.

Joel let her go, shrinking back slightly at the sudden reaction. Ellie watched, consumed by terror as her rock crumbled under the weight of the trauma.

Y/n crawled towards Henry, avoiding the blood, and clung to his shirt. She wept into his still warm body, wishing that he’d have let her finish her sentence. It could have changed everything.

The three of them sat there, waiting for their grief to come to a managable level.

“We gotta go,” Joel said eventually, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

“We can’t leave them here,” Ellie muttered, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

Y/n was sitting beside Henry’s body by then, waiting for him to breathe air that would never reach his lungs.

“Gimme a minute,” Joel said, getting to his feet and moving mechanically out the motel room door.

Time moved slow and all at once to the three of them. Joel went into the maintenance closet and found two shovels, bringing them back to the room where nothing and no one had moved. Him and Y/n, trying to spare Ellie what little trauma they could, carried Sam and Henry’s bodies across the road and to a patch of grass. The two of them began to shovel shallow graves, burying their friends.

The job was nearly done, they were just patting the soil back down when Ellie returned. She’d retrieved the few posessions they still had, dropping Y/n and Joel’s coats and Y/n and Henry’s backpack at their feet. She came to kneel at Sam’s grave, taking it in before setting his magnetic pad atop the dirt.

Standing back up with a weight no child deserved to carry, she turned to Joel, “Which way’s west?”

Joel looked off to his left and nodded, Ellie set off in the direction.

Y/n could feel herself slipping into a heavy numbness, a grief filling her that few could understand. She felt like she had one nostril, barely taking in oxygen, above the waters that slammed into her. But as soon as she saw Ellie’s handwriting, the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across the magnetic pad, she lost the fight.

She understood Henry’s fight.

She understood his decision.

And she understood his guilt.

She dropped her shovel where it was, picked up her jacket and slung her backpack over her shoulder, following Ellie and leaving Joel by himself. He was the last person she could stand to look at right now.

Joel watched her leave, any softness that had existed between the two of them a few hours ago had disappeared.

He leaned against his shovel, staring down at the dirt and Ellie’s makeshift headstone. Having done what they’d just done, having known Henry and Sam, watching them interact….it gave Joel the answer to the question he’d pondered the night before.

If anything happened to Y/n or Ellie, he wouldn’t know how to carry on.

And that was the most terrifying feeling he could have had, because he’d had it before.

Ellie had snarked, sassed and snuck her way into his heart. Y/n had always been there, his affection never fading over time despite her perceived betrayal. But he’d buried her, another name in the long list of people he’d lost over twenty years. To have her come crashing back into his life had been unexpected and unwanted. He couldn’t stop himself from letting her consume his mind, just as she had the first time.

Now here he was, a child and the woman he’d loved relying on him, killing for him, and he wanted to run.

“Let’s go,” Ellie called out, she was even beginning to sound like him.

Joel startled, looking on to see Ellie and Y/n waiting for him. Y/n refused to look at him. They were right back to where they’d begun their journey. Perhaps even further, she’d met his gaze even after the ambush that had brought them back together. Something had shifted in her that Joel couldn’t figure out, nor did he think it was best to look too deep.

He put on Henry’s backpack, feeling the weight of it, and slipped his jacket through the strap. He gave a parting glance to the brother’s graves and headed off to join the women.

Despite their failure to keep their pasts hidden, the three of them had scars the others didn’t know about. Intricate pieces of them that had made them who they were in the Cordyceps dominated world. But past the secrets, there was a loyalty too real to deny. They were too deep in to quit on each other. Trudging westward, with grief still fresh and fragile in their palms, they were all each other had.

If one of them died, they all would.

———————

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