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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 month

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TOUGH- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Your school girl crush on your employer, Mr. Parker grows as you spend more time with him helping out around his farm, and soon he wants you to meet his friends for a night out at the local dive bar (to simply show you off :) )

Warnings: SMUT, consentual bondage, daddy kink, mentions of sexual activities, sexual implications, flirting, use of drugs, drinks and guns, slight dumbification kink, praise kink, breeding kink, peter just grabbing ur body/ feeling you up, teasing, swearing, age gap ofc (reader mid 20s, peter 40s) peter really just takes pride and care of his girl, making sure she is safe and satsified :)

" life's gonna do what it does, sure as the good lord's up above, i'm cut like a diamond shinin' in the rough.. tough"- tough, lana del rey & quavo

part two to save a horse, ride a cowboy - but no need to read to understand this fic <3

It wasn't the caw of the rooster that woke you this morning.

It was the feeling of a large, solid bicep that curled, caging your body in against another. His skin was warm to the touch, faint red farmers tan poking out at you as you snuggled deeper into the crisp,cool white linen sheets.

You felt Peters bare chest against your backside, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing as you fought back sleep. The hands on his beside clock ticked, the minutes seeming to spin by faster then your eyes could follow as they fluttered open and shut.

Mornings like these were the best mornings you could've asked for.

They were rare, but they were precious.

The odd night you had managed to sneak out to visit Peter, which ended up with him taking care of you, from the beginning of the night to the ends of the morning.

It wasn't the cool morning breeze that slithered through the opened window that made you shiver, but the thought of Peter.

He had been teaching you how to ride, not horses- but him.

“Fuck darlin’ youre taking me so good. I know, I know-” he would coo as you whimpered, his cock stretching you out as he guided your hips to sink down onto him- to take him all.

“You’re doing such a good job honey, such a good job. You’re daddy's lil cowgirl aren't you? Learning how to ride me like a good girl.”

It made you squirm. Especially when after a while, he’d grow tired of your slower, gentler movements, gripping your hips and pounding up into you so hard you nearly fell off the couch if he hadn't been holding you.

You felt something poking out at your ass between the sheets, and you wiggled your body slightly, getting a low murmur from the sleepy older man beside you.

It was still early, and you knew your father wouldn't be awake any time soon, especially if he had been drinking. But you had cattle to tend to, and pigs to feed.

“Mr Parker…” you whispered, his arm still caging you in tightly.

“Mmm” he mumbled, eyes opening lazily, blinking slowly against the rising sun. “You’re not trying to escape from me, are ya?” he teased, pulling you in even closer, his morning wood flush against your ass, prodding at your lower back.

“I really don't want to leave sir I swear-”

“I’m joking sweet girl, I know. You have some calving happening don't you?”

You nodded.

I’ve been staying by them for most of the time when I’m not here. I like to think sometimes they like the company.” you smiled softly as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, then another.

“They most definitely enjoy it sweetheart. Especially yours. You're just such a sweet girl.” he hummed, large, calloused hands sliding under the sheets, down, down past your arms, slipping to give your ass a little squeeze before slipping up your little tank top to cup your breasts.

“Am I?” you asked, squirming in his grasp as his fingers toyed with you- a cat with its dinner, circling your hardened nipples.

“The sweetest. I just wanna keep you here baby, all the time, in this little bed so I can fill you up.”

You giggled, mind slipping from your duties for the day. His presence alone had your brain turning foggy, it was a miracle you could even think for yourself before he woke up.

But now? You were a goner.

“And why can’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the hardened bud between a thumb and finger. “Responsibilities honey. We both got them, and you're an independent girl.”

“I want you to take care of me though.” you pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes that drove him wild.

His tousled hair was soft between your fingers, his stubble harsher across his cheekbones. “Soon I will be sweetheart. I’ll make you my sweet lil cowgirl.”

You laughed as he kissed you all over, smothering you deeper into the pillows, his musky cologne engulfing you, lingering long after he had made his way to the bathroom, the sink handles cranking.

Cold water spewed out, captured in the same tender hands that had just cradled you as he rinsed his face. You called out for him, already missing his warmth, leaving him to stop dead in his tracks. You were fanned out on the bed- his bed, your body unfolding from under the sheets like an origami swan.

You lounged, eyes shut, your little shirt sliding further and further up your torso, tempting him. Before he could help himself, he grabbed his film camera that permanently was stationed on his old wooden dresser, the one his mother’s mother had before her, and so on.

Soon it would be covered in photos of you. His secret collection, a guilty pleasure of his favourite enigma that struck him down to his bones. You were a diamond in the rough in his life. You had consumed him, night and day. The way your voice sounded so sweet calling his name drove him to insanity.

The gentleness, the tenderness..

He needed to capture it.

“Mr. Parke- hey!” you protested as the shutter flickered a flash darting out between your heavy eyelids.

“You better not do anything with that, I look a mess.”

He snorted. “Was that a threat honey?” he asked, coy.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe hm?”

You shrieked as he set the camera down, taking a long stride before he was on top of you, caging you in as his hands pinned your wrists beside your head.

“You’re so beautiful my sweet… my beautiful, beautiful girl.” he murmured, eliciting a sigh as his forehead brushed yours, scruff grazing your neck as he inched closer to breath in the sweet scent of your perfume- always lingering on your skin.

You wiggled under him, attempting to free yourself from his grasp, and failing. It turned him on more then he cared to admit, to see you under him, almost helpless.

“Mr. Parker…”

“You know to call me Peter, sweetheart. You know what that name does to me.” He kissed your neck, once, twice and a third time.

“I should go… as much as I don’t want to…” you sighed, eyes darting over towards the ticking clock, hands seeming to move quicker and quicker as the minutes passed.

Your father would be awake soon, if not now, and that frightened you. If he woke up and found your bed empty…

“Come with me to the bar tonight. Please doll, I wanna show you off to all my friends, just to show them you’re mine.” he pleaded, seeming to make time stop completely, as you fell under his spell.

The way he was looking at you, yearning. Begging. You couldn't refuse. You didn't want to refuse.

“What time?” you asked softly, as he dipped his head back down to meet yours, a smile forming on his lips.

"Ten. I’ll pick you up at the house.”

You bit your lip. “You- you can’t. Father won’t-”

He nodded slowly, remembering how difficult your father could be.He would never allow it. Especially not with your employer. Though he was much… much more than that.

“I’ll sneak out again. Father will never find out, I’ve done it so many times, I can run out past the gate through the field…”

“Wait. Sweetheart, you need to be careful. I know you’ve done it so many times, and I hate making you do that, and putting you in danger-”

“You’re not making me do anything Mr. P- Peter.” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. They tasted minty, the two cushions softly caressing yours, gente enough to feel as if they were a whisper.

“You don't know what's out there. So promise me you’ll be careful, I’ll be there at ten on the dot. Leave when you have to, no earlier and please, please bring a sweater darlin, it’s gonna be oh so chilly…” he trailed off and you smiled brightly with anticipation, cheeks hurting from the repetitive movement.

His forehead met yours again, a silent promise of reassurance.

It was sweet he cared for you this deeply. It made butterflies churn in your stomach like twisters, made your toes curl in excitement so tightly you feared they'd all stick together.

A drug you could never get enough of. A hope you were chasing, that this could work past the summer months that you meant more to him then you realised.

He was introducing you to his friends, that was a start. A huge start.

“I will. Promise.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Mr. Parker was many things. One of those things was timely.

And truthful.

Not a minute past ten and his pickup was parked on the side of the road, nothing but red brake lights under the stars as guidance as you descended the old wooden fence on the other side of the field.

You had been pacing in anticipation all day, hardly able to stomach anything but crackers and cherries from the trees in the back. Braiding your hair just to unbraid it, to braid it again.

Peter had let you off for the day, he never really worked you- but of course your father didn't know that. So you were alone with your thoughts as you did your daily chores around the farm, tending to the sheep and cattle as the dogs nipped at your heels before darting after one another.

You didn't know where your father was when you got home. Asleep, you assumed. Or in town, to flirt with the general store owner. It didn't matter to you, what mattered was he was gone until he wasn't.

Dinner was quiet, not that you minded, just the sound of forks and knives scrapping fine china as the lanterns flickered in the dining room.

You were too focused on the night ahead, and what to expect. Or if you should be expecting anything.

No more than a quiet goodnight was said as you each tucked bodies behind wooden doors, and you wasted no time tugging on a little white lace dress, doing your hair the way you knew Peter liked the most.

You pumped the squeeze ball of your perfume, the little tassels brushing your skin and making you shiver as the scent hit your neck. The cool breeze slithered through your opened window, the curtains lashing out like branches in a storm that threatened to topple over the house.

Peter was right, it was cold. Colder than it should be for a summer night.

Normally it was stifling hot, the night time only allowing the temperature to drop just slightly. It had plummeted tonight.

You shrugged on a little cardigan over your shoulders, before slipping out the window, crawling down the large oak tree that lingered beside your house, threatening to topple over.

Now you found yourself here, whipping open the passenger door, laughing as the wind storm picked up, seeming to nearly topple you off balance.

The tires revved against the loose dirt road, gravel flying with the dust in the distance as you sped past your house. You felt like a teenager again, the way you were sneaking out, spending your night driving in cars with boys. Though they never treated you well- until Peter came along.

But he was a man you reminded yourself as you leaned your head back against the headrest, his large, veiny hand sliding over to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing little circles.

“You made it out okay?” he asked reassuringly, fawning over you as his eyes flickered from the road over to your body. Checking for scratches and gashes.

“Easy peasy.”

The radio hummed softly as his headlights flickered, and you listened to the sound of the turning signal as you gazed over at him. He was so beautiful in this light, it made your heart get stuck in your throat.

His soft locks blowing in the wind, the faded yellow beams in front of him illuminating his chiselled jaw, teeth tugging down on his bottom lip in concentration.

He was so soft in the night light, so gentle. Yet he remained possessive in such a comforting way, his hand tightening on your thigh as he turned a corner, or hit a bump.

“Are you warm enough darlin?” he asked, drinking in your little dress, and the shawl that did next to nothing to hide your shivers. You looked down, noticing your nipples had hardened on their own accord through the flimsy lace, from the chill wind or Peter's hands feeling you up- you couldn't tell.

“You’re gonna need a better jacket honey. You're a silly girl for thinking that would cover ya.”

You dipped your head and felt your cheeks heat as his teasing. You liked when he teased you. “Yes Mr. Parker.” you nodded, slipping your hand down to intertwine with his at your upper thigh.

He pulled a joint from his pocket, using his knees to steer the wheel as you endlessly grabbed the lighter from the dash and lit it for him. Smoke puffed out, trailing out the cracked opened window as he exhaled, like so many nights before.

It was routine at this point, lighting his smokes. He always shared with you, whether it was letting you have a hit, or by puffing the smoke into your mouth as he kissed you, simply intoxicating you.

“I’m nervous.” you stated bluntly as the truck rolled closer into the outskirts of town, where the local bar was. “Honey, you have no reason to be nervous, promise. They already love you.”

“They know me?” you asked.

“ ‘Course they do. Some of em might even try to snag you from me. You’re such a pretty lil thing they’ll want you all to themselves.”

You giggled at his claims, redeeming them false. Your nerves seem to grow as you pull into the parking lot, hands twisting at his fingers as if they were fidget toys. It was busy, though you didn't expect anything else for a Friday night.

The night was still young, and the party showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, people trickling in and out of the swinging wooden doors. Neon lights illuminated outside were bright, candy coloured-inticing you inside.

Before you could unlatch your seatbelt, Peter slid his hand to roughly hold your chin, huffing smoke between your lips as he kissed you harshly, teeth clashing against yours.

You barely had time to catch a breath as he gripped you tightly, holding you captive with his lips. They were swollen by the time he was done with you.

“Don't even think about reaching for that door handle sweets.” he whispered, winking as he slipped outside, cheeks tinged with pink as he took one last puff, before tossing the burnt end and crushed it with his boot.

The door was opened on your side, his hand holding yours as he guided you down from the high truck bed, steading you as you lept and swayed against him.

“My darlin’…” he murmured to himself as he took you in again, the heat of his stare sending shivers down your spine. The puff of weed made your head feel fuzzy, and you felt the heat between your thighs grow warmer as he lapped you up- like a dog begging for water.

A gentle tug broke you from your pink, doe eyed trance, and you mindlessly followed him inside, pushing past the little wooden doors.

Soft lights illuminated the room in a way that still felt dark and grungy, people in cowboy boots perched up on bar stools, or bent over with a pool cue. Some old country song trickled out of the speakers perched around the room, and your nose was overwhelmed with the scent of whisky and smoke.

You followed Peter towards the back of the bar, a group full of older looking men drinking beer over a hand of cards tossed on the table. Each of their eyes darted over towards the pair of you, one of them in the front smirking in satisfaction.

“So this is the pretty lady, is it Parker?” the man in the front asked, sliding out of the booth to tower over you, just as Peter always did.

“Bucky Barnes.” he smiled, hand sticking out to firmly grasp yours. You drank in his ocean blue eyes, the little tufts of grey in his beard, scattered like salt and pepper.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Barnes.” you nodded.

“Please hun, call me Bucky. No need for that formal silliness.”

“That's what I’ve told her. She’s just too polite I guess.” Peter laughed, his hand slipping down to your lower back, guiding you into the booth, atop his lap as you were introduced to his other buddies.

They were all extremely friendly, all having mini conversations amongst themselves while they sipped on their drinks, or smoked their cigarettes. Each of their hands were warm when you shook them, firm grapes from across the cluttered table.

Your attention was soon directed back to Peter, and a waitress who had so graciously appeared. “Darlin? What did ya want to drink?”

“Just a rum and coke for me please.” you smiled.

“One bill please.” Peter said before she disappeared back off into the bustling crowd.

“I can pay for my own Mr. Parker.” you frowned, annoyed with yourself for not thinking of saying that sooner. “I’m sure you can sweetheart. But I don't really care. Let me take care of you, okay?” he murmured in your ear, hitching his knee up so you had no choice but to slide back on his denim jeans, back against him fully to keep your balance.

“But-”

”No, no buts. You just enjoy this night okay? Are you doing okay, it’s not too loud in here?” he asked softly, whispering quiet enough not even Bucky, who sat next to you could hear what he said.

“I’m good. Do your friends like me, d’ya think?” you asked timidly, wanting his approval. “Oh darlin they love you. They wouldn't shut up about meeting you, they just wanted to see how pretty and smart you were in person. My words aren't enough I suppose.” he smiled, brushing a kiss just behind your ear as the server returned, two drinks in hand.

You thanked her, taking a sip from your staw, twirling around the ice cubes in the glass as they clinked against the side. Before you knew it, you were down three drinks, laughing so hard at jokes spewed from the other end of the table your sides started to ache.

A hand tugged you up to the dance floor, Bucky twirled you around in circles before dipping you down towards the floor. A smile never left your face, the room starting to slightly spin on its own accord, and you saw Peter eyeing the pair of you across the bar like a hawk, his cool stare never leaving the back of Bucky's head.

He had offered to show you around up towards the north, a place you hadn’t visited much but wished you had. “I’ll show you around.” he smiled when you asked about it, dipping you low again.

”When?”

“Whenever you're ready, call on me.” he winked in response.

By the time you had to call it quits to save your wobbly legs, you heard Bucky snicker at Peter, slapping his chest before heading back towards the group.

Oh relax Parker I wasn't trying to steal your girl, just woo her a lil.

He didn't seem to like that one very much.

“Can- can we step outside for a sec?” you asked, stumbling towards his strong, lean arms that encased you once more- a warm hug you very much needed.

“You need some fresh air darlin? It gets so loud, I know…” he trailed off, quite literally sweeping you off your feet into his arms. You curled in against his chest, feeling the sway of each long stride across the wooden floors, the crowd parting like the red sea as he passed them by, all of them gawking.

You didn't blame them. He was beautiful.

“Shh, shh” he murmured as you started to claw at his t-shirt, twisting it in circles to keep yourself steady. “I wanna shoot bottles.” you stated as the cool air hit your skin, and you instinctively curled into his warmth.

“You wanna shoot bottles now, do ya? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?” he asked, laughing. You slid down to your feet, looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkling dimly from under the rolling clouds.

“Course I don't. But you teach me.”

You heard some guys around the corner of the building laughing with their friends, the sound of cans clinking as they fell from bullet wounds. You had never shot a gun before- not really ever needing to, but you saw some of Peter's collection tucked away in one of his older storage buildings on the property.

They were vintage, slightly rusted but still in decent working condition you assumed. Peter had never shot a gun in front of you before, but you knew that he knew how. Your father had mentioned hunting trips with him back when they were kids.

Surely he couldn’t be that rusty.

“I’d teach ya eh? How do you know that I can shoot, pretty?”

You shrugged, trotting over to where the men had been previously, their guns leaned against the building.

“I’ve seen your guns.”

“Those are old. Real old, from my granddad. Brass ‘38s.” he said. “I still trust you to show me how.” you stated, toying with the barrel of a bb gun, swinging it back and forth.

“This isn’t smart while you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk.”

“So drunk.”

You huffed, picking up the gun anyways. “That’s why you show me so we don’t do anything stupid.”

“With you I always want to be stupid.” You smiled softly, pretending to aim the gun at him, mocking the sound of bullets flying through the air.

“Now you’re being stupid darlin. Don’t aim that at anyone, that’s the first rule. Though I don’t expect you to know that right now, in your condition.”

“You should show me Mr. Parker, so I can defend myself.” your voice was high, extra girly as you toyed with the weapon, feeling flirty to high hell. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he slid up behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he leaned down.

“Stay around me forever and you’ll never have to defend yourself baby. You’ll never have to do anything again.”

You giggled, cheeks warming from the alcohol rushing through your blood at his remarks. He was so silly. You thought, but you wished life could be that simple.

You wanted to wake up next to him every morning, to the feeling of him deep inside, pumping his seed into you- breeding you. You wanted to fuck like rabbits, for him to stuff you full over and over again until you were dripping.

You wanted him to kiss you all over before serving you breakfast in bed, tending to your every need while you lay in his bed, legs spread.

Jesus Christ your thoughts were dangerous when you were intoxicated.

What did they say again, drunk words were sober thoughts?

“You gotta turn off the safety first sweetheart.” Peter murmured in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear. You heard a soft click, and he guided your arms into position, hands closing over yours.

“Now look through that little eyepiece and aim towards that can there.”

You squinted, trying your very best to focus on the only can standing up on the nearby fence. It took you a few seconds, but finally you had steadied yourself with his guidance. Your finger hovered.

“And.. shoot.” he whispered, finger tightening around yours, the gun going off with a loud bang! The can crumpled in on itself quickly, the aluminium falling from its place. You squealed with delight.

“That's my girl!” he smirked, clicking the safety back on as you drunkenly wobbled into him, wanting to take the toy away before you hurt yourself.

“Did I do good?” you asked, knowing he did most of the work- but still wanting his praise anyways. “So good darlin, you’re such a good girl, y’know that?” he asked, slowly backing you up against the cold siding, caging you in his arms.

The gun was long forgotten, tossed somewhere on the ground. The way his eyes sparkled drove you wild, a hint of mischief but still a maturity- a gentleness eying you down, soaking you in.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your chest as you tilted your head up against the wall to meet his gaze fully. He was so tall, so big… and he smelt amazing.

God, you wanted to blurt all of this out loud. You couldn't keep your composure anymore… it was next to impossible around him. You melted like ice cream on a hot summer's day whenever you were in his mere prescience.

“I want you to fuck me.” you stated plainly, his eyes widening- a coy smirk forming on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, I really want you to fuck me. Please.”

Well he damn near fell to his knees at your sweet tone, and your puppy dog eyes as you begged. He could never say no to his baby, but he also knew the two of you couldn't do anything out in public like that.

At least not all the things he wanted to do to you.

But it didn't mean he couldn't edge you on a little more until you squirmed for him with want.

“Was that what you were so distracted with earlier? You thinkin about stuff?”

You nodded. “I was thinking about you breeding me, and filling me all up until I’mall sticky, and so tingly I can barely feel anything. And I was thinking about you pumping into me and hurting me in such a good way.” you confessed.

If he was only slightly hard before, he was rock solid now.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart fuck-.. I- I’m so much older then you-"

"Not by that much.” you insisted, hand slipping down to rub in between his legs, cupping his bulge between your smaller fingers as he suppressed a moan.

“You’re so naughty baby. D’you think about this all the time?”

“All the time. I wish you could fuck me now.”

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. Your nipples were so hard they strained the fabric, begging to be touched by him.

“Such a dirty mouth my lil cowgirl. You gonna let daddy fuck you hard tonight?” he breathed, hand slipping down to cup your breast. Yesss. You wanted to hiss, pleasure seeping over your body.

“Mhmm. Whenever.. Whenever you w-want.” you giggled, his hands slipping down to your thighs, hosting you up to his height- your legs wrapped around his solid middle.

He kissed your neck, teeth nipping the skin as he sucked, leaving little marks that scattered across your skin. Before he could go much further, a presence lingered from the parking lot, a man leaning against a wooden post- watching you.

He whistled sharply, causing you to whip your head in shock. “Lovebirds! If you’re gonna fuck- at least invite the rest of us!” Bucky called from the sidelines.

“You couldn’t even get it up old man!” you shouted, Peter bursting out laughing against your collarbone. Steve appeared, whistling at your remark.

“Oh she got you good Buck. Low blow cowgirl.” he laughed, clapping Bucky's back, a feline grin on your face as you walked towards the pair, adjusting your shoulder strap that had slipped down in your little rendezvous.

They definitely knew you were not wearing a bra, if they didn’t know before. Oh well, not your problem.

“If you want a ride, I’d watch your tongue sweetheart.”

You laughed, stumbling over to Peter’s truck. “We’re gonna leave that here and get it tomorrow darlin. Mr. Barnes is gonna give us a ride home.” Peter whistled at you, smacking Bucky upside the head at his remarks.

“Mkay…”

“There’s not enough seats, so the pretty lady is on Parker’s lap. Unless she wants to be on mine-“ he looked over at you, winking. “I’ll make sure to hit all the bumps.”

“You pervert.” Peter snarled- walking him again. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Bucky laughed.

“Don’t listen to him doll, he’s being stupid. He doesn’t mean any of it.” Peter murmured to you, as he guided you from his truck down to Buckys, Steve already claiming shotgun, while Sam and Tony were in the back, leaving one spot open for you and Peter.

Great. For your sake, he hoped Bucky did hit all the bumps.

It was stuffed in the vehicle, arms touching as if you were sardines in a can. But you didn’t mind being on Peter's lap. He rolled the window down, allowing the cool air to slither into the back, cooling your skin.

The other men talked about whatever while Bucky's headlights flickered on as he slowly backed out of the parking lot- but all you could focus on was Peter. He was still hard under you, you could feel his bulge through his jeans, straining against his zipper.

Your dress fanned out, leaving nothing but your underwear to rub against the denim, which was now damp. You clenched your fists, fighting back moans as Bucky sped down the road, hitting massive potholes that nearly sent your head through the roof.

You caught a glint in his eye as he looked back at you from the rear view, knowing damn well he was doing it on purpose.

“Hold on tight.” was all he said as he continued on- and you squirmed against Peter's groin.

“You keep doing that, you’re gonna regret it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Peter grumbled to himself, hands tightening their grip on your thighs as Bucky hit more bumps. He clenched his teeth, hissing as he rubbed against your panties, feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

The weed had heightened everything tremendously; he seriously thought he would cum in his pants.

That’s some shit the guys her age would do- those immature pieces of shit. The thought alone made him hold you a little tighter, savouring the smell of your perfume and shampoo.

You felt delicious on him. He wanted you on his lap constantly. He just wished no one else was in the truck.

You laughed at something Steve said, as Bucky put his turn signal on, gravel rumbling under the tires as he turned down Peter's driveway.

Oh thank god.

“Thank you so, so much for the ride Mr. Barnes. It was so lovely to meet all of you.” you smiled, waving timidly as Peter opened the door, allowing you to slip off his lap and jump down to the ground, holding his hand for balance.

Peter grimly nodded, cursing your sweetness towards Bucky, that motherfucker. Bucky winked as Peter tried to subtly hide his boner as he stood- and failed.

“No problem sweetheart, just glad you’re home safe. Don’t forget my offer okay- you come around anytime and I’ll show ya around with Steve.” he nodded, and you said the rest of your goodbyes, waving to everyone before Peter slammed the door shut.

The tires squealed as Bucky put the gas to the floor, leaving nothing but dust in his wake. “They were really nice Mr. Parker. I think they liked me.” you smiled, skipping over to the front porch steps.

“Yeah, a little too much.” he muttered under his breath, catching up to you in quick, long strides. You squealed as he picked you up with ease from behind, draping you over his shoulder and carried you up the steps, unlocking the front door.

“Put me down!” you whined, letting out a yelp as he smacked your ass.

“Shh. And stop your squirming, you’re not going anywhere sweetheart.” he huffed, kicking the door shut behind you, tossing his keys on the counter.

The lights were soft and dim as he carried you up the stairs, past the closed doors to the one left open.

His bedroom.

You continued to squirm- defying his orders and you felt that sting again, the loud smack! echoing through the room as you whimpered.

You bounced down on the bed, wide eyed as you scooted back towards the headboard, legs splayed open. Watching as his hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek mindlessly.

“You still want me t’fuck you honey?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I’d like you to fuck me Mr. Parker. Please.” you added quickly. His thumb brushed over your parted lips and you opened them quickly, allowing him access- your tongue swirling around his digit as his hand forced you to look up at him.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly.

“I wanna be so gentle with you darlin. You’re so sweet and soft… I just wanna be so delicate.” he sighed softly. “Fuck….”

He didn’t say he was still a little pissed at Bucky for his aimless flirting- not that it was your fault of course. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to be possessive though. He was mature enough he knew you belonged to him- he didn’t need that reassurance.

But he had to make sure you knew.

“That's okay.” you whispered, drool trickling off his thumb as he pulled it away, smearing it across your cheek. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re so good to me baby. Do you think we could try something a bit different tonight?” he asked, and you nodded.

Anxiety and excitement quelled in your chest as he started to unbuckle his belt, and unzip his jeans. You pulled off your little scrap of fabric you called a dress, instinctively covering yourself. It was a habit you tried to break- but you couldn't help it.

“No no, baby, show me.” Peter insisted, hands removing yours to reveal yourself to him. The heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine, leaving you firmly planted in the sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. The gods write poems about your beauty, my sweet girl.” he cooed, grabbing your wrists, holding them out in front of you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Grabbing the belt, he started to wrap them around your wrists. “Is this okay?” he looked at your face for reassurance, finding it in your gentle eyes as you smiled.

“Will it hurt?” you asked meekly.

“No, no honey I would never hurt you. You know that right?” he sat down on the bed next to you, stroking your skin in soft, calming circles.

“I know Mr. Parker.”

You knew he was your savouir. He would never- could never harm you. You trusted him with your life.

He kissed you again, the belt jangling as it was bound around your wrists. You wiggled your fingers, though unable to move your hands- helplessly bound before him.

And you had never felt so safe.

“That too tight for ya darlin?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Parker.”

He smirked, fingers finding there way down to brush your inner thighs, tugging at the fabric that covered where he wanted you the most. You wiggled, moaning as he teased you, his touches soft yet electric.

“Shh baby, thats it. Daddys gonna take such good care of you. I’ve got ya.” he whispered, tugging off your thong, throwing it somewhere to the floor, watching your back arch and bow off the mattress from his quick brush of his finger along your slit.

“Awh baby she’s so wet f’me. I’ve barely even touched ya, sweet thing.” he cooed, and you whined softly as he toyed with you.

“Please-“

“Please what? Hmm? Use your big girl words.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Please fuck me, please. Please.” you begged, squirming.

“Such naughty language. Tsk tsk” he clucked his tongue, prying your legs wide open as you fought to keep your knees together.

“You want me to do what you said earlier? You want to be full?”

You nodded.

“You can’t waste any baby. No leaking, okay? Need my baby stuffed.” he smirked, lifting your legs up, draping them over his buff shoulders.

“Do you want gentle?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Whatever my sweet girl wants.” he smiled, brushing his cock through your soaked folds, tapping your clit with the head lightly. You didn’t know how much more teasing you could take.

“Mr. Park- OH!” you cried out as he slid home, his happy trail brushing your clit. He wasted no time, lifting your thighs up so half your body was off the bed, getting the deepest angle he could as his hips began to snap into yours.

You couldn’t help but cry out, words becoming mindless babbles as he pistoned into you, hitting a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Yeah that’s it baby. Taking me so good, you’re such a good girl.” he cooed, admiring as your arms lifted, hands over your head in the restraints as you attempted to claw onto the headboard, failing miserably.

“Aww poor thing. You got nowhere to go, do you? Stuck here just taking daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking tight jesus christ…” he trailed off, lost in his head as you squeezed him tighter, nothing but the sounds of the slapping of his balls on your skin, the sounds of your strangled noises and moans.

He couldn’t get enough of them, he never wanted them to end. Your legs began to slip from their position, turning to jello and he wasted no time quickly flipping you around with ease slipping right back in.

You moaned at the new position, as he hit a different spot- slapping your ass gently. “Atta girl. Cmon baby, make yourself feel good. Or d’ya need me to do it for ya since you’re so fuzzy?”

You mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow that sounded like “Please”, and he didn’t bother trying to make sense of it as he gripped your hips harder.

“M’so closeeee…” you hissed, clenching him tighter.

“You gonna cream on my cock? Yeah? Cream on my cock baby, atta girl darlin.” he growled possessively as you came with a sharp cry, soaking his cock.

He always let you cum first. Always. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t. You were his princess, he wanted you to feel so good you wouldn’t even be able to remember your name.

Peter showered you in praise, rubbing your back soothingly as your legs shook from your orgasm, toes curling against the sheets.

“You’re okay sweetheart. Shhh that’s it. Good girl baby.” He flipped you back over, wanting nothing more than to see your pretty face. It was one of the things that got him off the most, seeing your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth let out those pretty noises while it rounded to an o shape.

Your chest rose quickly, up and down as you managed to catch your breath, head fuzzy.

“You okay honey?” he asked gently, forehead creasing in concern as he soothed you.

He always took such good care of you. Somehow that turned you on even more.

“M’so good.” you mumbled, meeting his soft smile.

“Well good. Cause I’m not done with ya yet darlin. Spread those legs again baby.”

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xythlia · 11 months

Text

⎙ 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐓 !

› mammon x f!reader

› request for my mootie wif the best ideas <3 @aestrayla I hope u don't mind I took some creative liberties but u know something like that would make him SNAP ajdhsks

warnings : squirting, talking about making reader a mommy (not sorry), creampie, mating press, semi rough sex, aggressive mammon, possessiveness, hickies/biting, dacriphilia, breeding

"Uh, hey- wait what is that?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head, breath coming in short bursts in between drawn out moans of his name.

The tinny voice coming from somewhere by your head barely registers in your brain, your field of vision dominated by Mammon as he laid over you between your legs.

"I dunno if you're busy or something but I was calling to talk..."

The way Mammons teeth flash as his lips pull back in a possessive snarl makes something ignite deep inside your tummy. One hand finds your face, gripping your jaw while he forces you to look in his eyes, full of something primal that makes your heart beat erratically, not get distracted by your phone.

You hadn't seen it, but he definitely did catch the way your ex's name flashed across the screen right as he'd slid inside you, pushed your legs up to make sure you felt every inch of his cock as it pushed inside your soaked cunt. You'd been messing around in his bed after a movie marathon, your phone had been the one thing not tossed onto the floor as you both got caught up in each other.

Seeing it turned his mind into a flood of red. How dare some scum sucking human guy call you up? Doesn't he know you belong to him? And what the hell were you doing keeping an ex saved in your phone? Don't you know who you belong to? Without thinking he'd slid his finger to answer the call.

Mammons lips brush against yours, shushing your cries and his hips stop moving, keeping his throbbing cock inside you as you squirm.

"Answer him, baby." A whisper of a growl.

Your eyes gape, full of confusion as he lets go of your jaw, pulling away ever so slightly.

He can see the panic dancing across your previously pleasure drunk face.

"Yeah, sorry I'm- I'm really busy-" you struggle through the words.

"Okay," he pauses briefly. "I mean we can talk more later but I was thinking about you, us, you know? I miss you. I was wondering if you'd wanna give it another try?"

The question sits like a loaded gun in the room.

Your eyes are wild, hands scrabbling above your head fumbling for your phone but Mammon beats you to it. Snatching it up as you whine.

Mammon pulls nearly all the way out of you, feeling the way you clench around him in a desperate attempt to get him to stay. The swollen tip of his cock is all that stays nestled inside you. Gently he sets back on his heels, his other hand finding your pussy as he feigns absentmindedness while slowly circling your clit.

In a tone that makes you shiver and squeeze your eyes shut he starts speaking.

"Don't think so, man. She's too busy about to become a mom."

At that, coupled with a hard press of his index on your aching clit, a particularly hoarse groan is pulled from deep inside your chest.

"What the fuck, hey who is this dickhead?" Your ex's voice takes on a hard edge but it doesn't even register to you, not with your head pressed back against the pillows and your hips rolling upwards to chase Mammons touch.

"Ya heard me, but why don't I let her tell you herself?" He mocks, setting the phone right above your head as his hands dig into your hips in a bruising grip before he slams his hips back against you. The force of it makes you gasp and almost choke on your own spit.

But he can't stop himself now, forearms planting themselves firmly on either side of your face, lips devouring yours. It's sloppy, almost animalistic the way he pounds you into the mattress.

Your head is spinning and you've all but forgotten that there's someone else listening to you right now. There's no space in your mind for that, not when Mammons pace is so brutal and the only thing you can do is claw at his back in a weak effort to anchor yourself.

"Fuck," he pants, "Ya wanna be a mommy?" A smirk paints his face as he nuzzles his nose against the side of your neck, licking and sucking against the thin skin like his life depended on it.

You whine, burying your fingers in his snowy hair. The question makes your mind short out, like an electrical wire snapping and spraying sparks in its wake. You open your mouth but all that comes out is an incoherent mess, cries of his name as you frantically reach down and grip the backs of your thighs to pull them up, your moans reaching a fever pitch as you feel his cock prod even deeper.

Letting go of your neck with a soft pop he finds your lips again, biting on your bottom lip and drinking down your cries like they're the finest wine in any realm.

After a hard nip to the swollen flesh he breaths out against your mouth, "Wanna hear you say it."

Tears slip down the sides of your face, you feel the odd wetness of them pooling against your ears as you sob eagerly. "I wanna be a mommy- please-!"

Your voice gets cut off in a squeal as he takes control of your legs, pushing them so far against your chest it makes you wheeze. He grunts against the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him, your slick walls throbbing and just begging to milk him. With your mouth dropped open in a silent wail Mammon feels something warm spray against his abdomen.

But still his hips keep thrusting against you, balls twitching every time they slap against your ass. He can feel the way he's clenching his jaw so hard his teeth might break. Seeing your slack jawed tear stained face and feeling the way you cling on to his shoulders so pathetically finally slows him down.

With a few long, deep thrusts he stills inside you, relishing in the way your pussy is practically sucking in the warm thick cum spurting inside you. It's confirmation, in his mind, that now he's gotta commit to this.

In a fleeting second of awareness his eyes slide from your cockdrunk face to your phone. The screen is dark.

With a grin that oozes smug satisfaction he captures your lips again in a slow, burning kiss, tongue sliding against yours languidly.

Dragging his spit covered lips to kiss along your jaw his hips gingerly start moving again, prompting a low whine from you as your eyes flutter open.

His hands reach under you, cupping your ass and holding you open for him. "Gotta make sure it takes, right?"

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me imagine #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #om! mammon #mammon x reader #mammon smut #om smut #mammon x you #obey me x female reader #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

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michibap · 1 month

Text

drunk cooking stream with schlatt

-the goal is to make some stupidly elaborate recipe

-like macarons or those stupid 24 hour cookies

-it starts off pretty well, the two of you having developed a system where you measure out the ingredients while schlatt mixes them

"Like a well oiled fuckin' machine," he'd boasted, carefully folding the merengue mixture as you sifted in the almond flour

-until schlatt insists you go shot for shot with him and you’re struggling to keep up

-you get tipsy a little quicker than he does (bc he’s massive) and start getting a little clumsy, fumbling with kitchen tools

-and the system devolved into him watching you like a hawk while you flit around the kitchen, easily distracted and giggly

-he confiscates your knife while you’re in the middle of chopping up strawberries because you almost lobbed off one of your fingers one too many times and he thinks he’s going to have palpitations

-he’s scolding you for being stupid bc he was worried and you’re not hearing a damn word it’s just like “blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff”

-chat tattling on him for eating the ingredients while you’re not looking and he yells at them

-yells at them more once they clock him being drunk bc he’s getting rowdy

-trying to goad you into bickering with him and being generally menacing

-obnoxiously petting your hair like you’re a dog while you’re trying to do something

-practically hanging off of you while you’re trying to move around the kitchen

-inhibiting your ability to get anything done bc you have to drag a grown man with you everywhere you go

-he’s shuffling close behind you so he doesn’t have to unwrap his arms from around your waist, occasionally stepping on the backs of your shoes

-turning giving him a horrified look when he aggressively sniffs your hair and being like “alright you’re done”

-it only gets worse when you make him let go of you 😭 bc now his hands are free

-he’s picking things up and moving them when you’re not looking as a little pranky prank but forgetting where he puts them and having to help you find them

-very obviously fucking something up and blaming you for it

-like he knocks a cup of flour you’re standing next to over with his elbow and glares at you like it’s your fault

-catching him trying to steal ingredients again but this time he just feeds u some, grinning when your eyes light up and you’re like mmmm!!

-cannot have nice things bc it quickly turns into a food fight

-it’s all fun and games until he breaks an egg and u get mad so u banish him to sitting off to the side

-and he’s griping and huffing and puffing, trying to distract you from the task at hand

-it comes as a relief when he shuts up, allowing u to work in peace and chit chat with the viewers

-what u don’t see is him fighting his demons in the background

-eyes fucking LOCKED in on your ass while you move around the kitchen, u can almost see the loading circle spinning in his brain

-everything comes to a full stop when it sounds like a fucking GUN SHOT goes off and you’re yelping

-hearing his obnoxiously loud laughter over the sound of your whining while you press your forehead to the counter and try to soothe the tender flesh for a moment

-until you whirl around and use the half empty bag of chocolate chips as a melee weapon and get him across the head with it

-it’s your turn to laugh when he ends up on the floor with a pained groan

-does not last long bc he’s jamming his fingers into the sensitive area behind ur knees and you’re collapsing next to him in a fit of giggles

-on some spy vs spy shit

-once you collect yourselves, he’s up first, dragging you up after him

-walking around with a flour hand print on your ass for the rest of the stream 😔

-his head going empty again as he very intensely watches you aggressively tap the baking sheet on the counter to get all of the bubbles out of the batter before putting it in the oven

(AWOOGA? i haven’t heard that name in years….)

-forgetting said cookies in the oven while you make a ganache that turns out too light because SOMEBODY ate HALF OF THE FUCKING CHOCOLATE CHIPS

-he keeps on insisting it’s fine and you’re being dramatic until you show him the contents of the bowl and it’s like,, very light brown sludge

-when you take the cookies out they’ve become this gross brownish red, no longer the cute pink batter you put in the oven

-they end up being fugly and borderline inedible

-and you’re so sad bc you guys worked so hard (no u did NOT)

-he’s trying to make you feel better by forcing himself to eat one

-but the grimace on his face as he struggles to crunch on what was supposed to be a delicate treat just makes it worse 😭

-after stream he ends up door dashing u guys a sweet treat to make up for it

“Even though YOU fuckin’ ruined em.”

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fanfic

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atinylittlepain · 2 years

Text

We'll Be Expecting You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader/pregnant!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Baby Miller is on the way. Are they ready?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, descriptions of pregnancy, descriptions of giving birth (non graphic lol)

a/n | it's here! this can be read as a standalone fic but it is really a continuation of Unexpected Expectings, it's pretty fun either way I think :) also, um, it's long, so go get a snack and sit down, yeah?

.......................

“That’s it, honey. Feels good, huh?” His lips are a smear against her temple, bare chest curled over her back as he keeps her steady with firm but gentle palms smoothing up her hips. She clenches her hands against the bathroom counter, weakly pressing back into him with each thrust.

“Joel– feel s’good, fuck– don’t stop, please–” He shushes her, bringing one of his hands down below the swell of her belly, fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight circles that have her whining and throwing her head back against his shoulder. This has become how most mornings start since she had entered her third trimester, the morning sickness that had been rocking her all but gone and a new wave of hormones that had made her impossibly needy for him. And sensitive.

“C’mon, mama. I know you can give me one more. Please– need to feel you.” The low thrum of his words is all it takes to snap the banded pleasure pulled taut at her spine as her cunt spasms around him. He’s not far behind, rutting into her one more time before his warmth is spreading through her core, his damp forehead pressing between her shoulder blades. He lays a kiss to the nape of her neck, a comfort as he pulls out and she whimpers. Turning in his hold, they meet in a sloppy kiss as she runs her fingers through his hair, brushing back his sleep-mussed waves. His palms splay over the wide arc of her belly, and he pulls away with a chuckle, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in awe.

“I think our boy’s awake, darlin.” She grins, laying her hands over the tops of his.

“You’re still gunning for a boy, huh?” His eyes dart up to hers, a crooked smile on his face. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything, smacking one more kiss to his lips before getting the water running for their shower.

It’s a bit of a struggle getting dressed these days. There aren’t exactly any maternity stores to go shopping at in Jackson. She’s been making do with an elastic looped through the button of her jeans and Joel’s flannels, but even those are starting to stretch at the swell of her stomach. It’s hard to believe that they’ve made it to December, that in a little under a month it’s going to be time for this baby to come, one way or another.

She’s trying to stay calm, Joel already a nervous wreck the closer they inch to her projected due date, but the truth is, she’s just as scared as he is, if not more. There were no two ways about it, it hadn’t been an easy pregnancy. Much to her initial protest, Joel had gotten her off patrol shifts early on, but she wasn’t so upset about that when the vertigo episodes started coming on daily. There had been many a time when she just had to lay down where she stood and close her eyes until the room stopped spinning, something the town doctor had assured her wasn’t uncommon in pregnancy.

It certainly freaked Joel out though. He wouldn’t move from her side if he was with her when it happened, keeping a warm palm rubbing up and down her back. What had scared him more was when she actually started to lose weight during the second trimester, her nausea getting so bad she was lucky to keep sips of water down. He had taken time off of patrol then, staying by her side and trying to coax any food into her system that she could tolerate. They learned then that baby Miller had a particular affection for mashed potatoes. But it seemed like she was out of the woods once she hit the seven month mark, at least until the delivery.

“You know, I can still tell Tommy to go with someone else.” She huffs at his words, finishing up the buttons of her (his) shirt before waddling over to him. That’s the other thing, she waddles now. She’s never waddled in her entire life. She can see the entirely amused look on his face as he watches her from where he’s standing in their bedroom. When she reaches him she smacks his chest lightly before rubbing her palms up to clasp behind his neck and tug on his hair.

“I’m glad my gimpy walk is entertaining to you, Miller. But you wouldn’t be looking so smug if you had an entire human pressing down on your pelvis with each step.” He breathes a laugh, dipping down to press a kiss to her scrunched nose.

“I know, darlin. That’s why I think I need to stay close. I just– I don’t wanna–” She leans up to cut him off with a kiss.

“You’re not gonna miss anything. We’ve got nearly a whole month before doctor Graham thinks it’ll be time. And I’m feeling the best I have in the last eight months.” He huffs, shaking his head at that as he brushes his knuckles under her jaw.

“You’re tougher than most, that’s for sure.” She snorts at his words.

“Damn right I am. Go. Do your watch with Tommy. And come back on Wednesday in one piece.” She rests a palm over the curve of her stomach. It’s obvious Joel’s fighting a smile under his furrowed expression, but he finally gives in.

“Alright, mama. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He brings his much larger hand to rest over hers on her belly. She grins.

“We’ll be expecting you, Joel.”

…

Joel heads out soon after a quick breakfast. He and Tommy do this every season, camping out at the dam for a few days to make sure everything’s in order. Nothing was ever really wrong, a few swaths of infected, maybe a stray raider or two. It’s a routine check-up, and she isn’t worried in the slightest. It’s Monday, and he should be back Wednesday morning, nothing to worry about at all.

As she’s washing up after breakfast, Ellie comes bounding into the kitchen, holding something behind her back. She turns from the sink, resting her hand on her hip and taking in Ellie’s wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I swear you get rounder everyday. Seriously, that kid is gonna bust out of you all Alien style. Like ahhhhh.” Ellie makes more groaning noises, miming an explosion around her own abdomen before dissolving into laughter. She however, is less than amused.

“I take it that’s what was playing at movie night yesterday?” The girl hums, seeming to remember what she actually came in to tell her. She holds out what she had been hiding behind her back.

“Traded for this last night. Thought it’d be nice for the baby since she’s coming in the winter and everything.” She takes the bundle of fabric from Ellie, holding it out and seeing that it’s a sweet little quilt embroidered with pink and purple flowers. The other thing about being pregnant is how emotional she’s gotten, and before she even knows it, she’s starting to sniffle as she grasps the plush blanket. Ellie’s brow furrows, coming alongside her and awkwardly patting her back.

“Shit, don’t cry. It’s nice right?” She chuckles wetly, pulling Ellie into a tight hug that elicits a small “oof” from the girl before pulling away and holding her by her arms.

“It’s so nice, Ellie bean. I love it. Baby’s gonna love it too. I’ll tuck it in the crib for when they get here.” Ellie grins.

“You know, you can just say she. Everyone except for Joel thinks it’s gonna be a girl anyways.” She laughs, shaking her head at Ellie’s smug expression.

“I know. But he wants a boy so bad, the damn fool. I’ve been waiting to finish putting together the nursery because everything people have given me is pink.” Ellie laughs at that, sidling past her to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Might be a good time to get that done. Just rip the band-aid off before he gets back, you know?” She hums, folding the blanket back up in her hands.

“You’re probably right, kid. I’ll work on it today. The pinkening.” Ellie snorts around a swig of water before glancing at the clock hanging over the stove.

“Shit, I gotta go. My shift started five minutes ago.” She squeezes the girl’s shoulder as she brushes past.

“Be safe, alright? You better be home for dinner.” Ellie smiles, nodding over her shoulder as she’s already halfway out the door.

…

She’s been keeping all the baby odds and ends she’s been given in old boxes in a closet upstairs. Most of it really is pink, and she didn’t want to dash Joel’s hopes just yet. She picks up one of the boxes with a groan, shuffling down the hall to the nursery they’ve been working on. It had been Ellie’s room when they first got here. It was obviously a teen girl’s room before, bright colors and patterns on the curtains and the rug. But Ellie was more than happy to trade the room for her own little apartment in the garage that Joel had helped her build out. She could play her music as loud as she wanted to, a point that had really sold her on the idea. The twin bed remains in the room, but now pressed against the wall across from it is a crib. Joel had worked on it all summer, collecting scrap wood, sanding it down to perfection, carefully laying the pieces together, and carving swirling patterns into the rails. She had spent many a hazy afternoon sitting in his workshop with him, ogling the push and pull of his muscles under his thin t-shirts as he worked on it.

She shakes her head of her quickly simmering thoughts, starting to pull out impossibly tiny pieces of clothing to fold in the dresser. It feels odd, this quasi-nesting she’s doing. She certainly never thought she’d get to do anything like this after, well, after. In her old life, she did want kids someday, but she had only just started college when the world fell to pieces, and suddenly that desire turned into a pipe dream that she resolved herself to let go of. How things have changed.

She spends the rest of the morning organizing the baby’s room, laying the blanket Ellie had given her in the crib as a final touch.

Pregnancies were sort of a big deal in town, and for good reason, so when folks found out that baby Miller was on the way, they started dropping off old toys and books, cloth diapers and bottles, anything that might be helpful. It was nice, if not a little stifling. She knew there was a weariness to their excitement for her, an unspoken acknowledgement of how quickly it could all go south. The further along she got, the less she liked being out around town as people seemed to get more handsy, asking more questions about how she was doing that only made her nerves worse. The only person who disliked it more than her was Joel, keeping a protective hand over her belly whenever they were out in town together, a deep scowl on his face if someone started getting too nosy. But at this late stage of pregnancy, her doctor had all but commanded her off any work detail, a free pass to stay in and away from prying eyes, though she did still like to help out at the stables most days.

Glancing at her watch she sees it’s about time for her to head over to the stables. She sighs, standing in the doorframe to take one more look at the nursery.

“Ready when you are, baby girl.”

…

“You must be distracted because I’m whooping your ass harder than usual, man.” Joel huffs at Tommy’s words, throwing his cards down on the table and sitting back in his chair. Night is quickly closing in on the plains, and the brothers have set up their usual camp in the dam control room, a small lantern lighting their games of gin. Tommy smirks at his brother.

“Joel, she’s fine. She’s got Maria and Ellie looking out for her, and doctor Graham told you herself that everything’s looking good. There’s nothing to be worried about.” Joel scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t remember you being so relaxed when Maria was this close to her due date.” He’s got him there, a beat of silence passing before Tommy shrugs.

“Okay, maybe that’s true. But looking back, there was no point to that, getting so freaked out. Because I knew that Maria was strong, that she’d get through it. And hell, that woman of yours is one of the strongest people I ever met.”

“It’s not just about strength, Tommy, not in this world. You know that. One little thing gone wrong, that’s all it’d take.” Tommy lays his cards down, leaning over the table to look Joel straight in the eye.

“Well, that’s why we’re not gonna let anything go wrong, huh? All of us, Joel. We’ve got her. We’re gonna finish this watch and then we’re gonna go home and she’s gonna be fine because we’ve got her.” Joel swallows thickly, not wanting to press the issue any further, though his mind is still swirling in worry. He nods at Tommy.

“Get some sleep. I’ll take first shift. We’ll sweep the south side tomorrow morning.” Tommy nods, getting up and squeezing Joel’s shoulder before laying out his sleeping bag and settling in.

As the quiet of the night deepens, Joel finds his mind wandering. He can’t help thinking about how different the circumstances with Sarah had been. And not just for the obvious reasons. Joel had been so young, so reckless, and when Sarah’s mom came to tell him they hadn’t been as careful as they thought they had, it turned his world upside down. What had started as a hazy one-night stand turned into a shotgun wedding, an attempt to do what his father told him was the right thing. But the only thing that brought them together was Sarah, and even that hadn’t been enough. Before his baby girl could even walk, Sarah’s mom had flown the coop, divorce papers in the mail a few months after she left. Joel didn’t even care, not when he suddenly could hold his whole life in his arms. Sarah was his whole life, from the moment she was born until the moment he lost her.

But this was different. Joel still has a hard time telling her he loves her, mostly because it feels like love isn’t a big enough word for what they have, what they’ve been through together. But, he does love her, so much it terrifies him. He’s been struggling to even wrap his mind around what he feels about this baby, their baby. Part of him fears forgetting Sarah, though he knows that’s impossible. The other part of him fears just how far he already knows he’d go for this person who isn’t even here yet.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s going to be a long night.

…

It had been a long night. She had already been having trouble sleeping, but laying down in an empty bed made it all but impossible to get any rest. It had also been a particularly uncomfortable night. Wicked cramps had kept her restless through most of the night. She wakes up the next morning to a clenching pain in her low back. She assumes it’s just because of the weird position she had ended up sleeping in, curled on her side in a jumble of pillows, and hobbles out of bed with a groan. Glancing at her watch, she’s shocked to see how late she slept, quickly cleaning herself up and padding downstairs, wincing at how the pain doesn’t seem to be dissipating.

She finds Maria and Ellie in the kitchen, both of them brightening when she walks in.

“Well, good morning. Was starting to get a little worried that the alien finally busted out of your guts.” Ellie laughs at her own joke, but Maria shoots the girl a look before smiling back at her.

“You feeling alright?” She huffs, rubbing her low back.

“Yeah, just a little tired I guess. But my back is killing me. It’s like someone is wringing my spine.” Maria hums, passing her a glass of water.

“Sounds about right. I remember I could barely walk that last month, my back had seized up so much. Are you hungry? I made oatmeal.” She scrunches her nose, shuffling over to the kitchen table.

“I’m really not, but thanks. Think I just need to sit down for a moment.” Ellie takes the seat beside her, concern splashed over her face.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” She tries to offer her a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

“I’m alright, Ellie bean. I just–” She cuts herself off with a gasp when a sharp pain slices hot through her pelvis. It’s only afterwards that she realizes she had dropped the glass she was holding, shards all over the floor. Maria is cleaning the mess up in a flash with a dishrag.

“I’m so sorry, Maria– I don’t know what that was, I–” “Oh, shit.” Her eyes dart back to Ellie who’s staring at her pants. She glances down, having to look twice when she sees the liquid darkening the insides of her pant legs. She feels a cool panic settling in her spine.

“No no no no no–”

“Ellie, go tell doctor Graham she needs to get here, immediately. You’re gonna have to ride out to the dam after and get Joel.” Ellie nods at Maria’s words, her mouth agape, as she jerkily stands, but stays still, staring at her. Maria brings a hand to her shoulder.

“Go, Ellie. I’ve got her.” Ellie finally looks away, dashing out the front door. She meanwhile feels like her head is full of static, the only salient thought she’s having coming out of her mouth like a prayer.

“It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet.” Maria kneels down in front of her, taking her hands and squeezing hard.

“It looks like it’s time, alright? A little early, but nothing we can’t handle. C’mon, we need to get you cleaned up and comfortable.” Maria goes to help her out of her chair but just then another shooting pain jolts through her that leaves her gasping for breath. Her voice is a cracked whine when she speaks again.

“I need him here, please, Maria. I can’t do this without him.” Maria nods, eyes wide.

“Listen, Ellie’s gonna get him back here as quick as she can. But we gotta worry about you right now, ok? Can I help you stand up?” She’s already helping her up, tucking under her arm to help her walk.

She can’t believe this is happening.

…

She can’t believe this is happening.

Ellie mounts Shimmer in a panicked haze, and when she gets out of the walls of Jackson, she rides harder than she ever has before.

She had been excited about this new addition to what she had only just started to call her family, but now, there’s only pure fear running like ice in her veins. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and it has become incredibly clear that she could lose her today. The biting cold wind is freezing her tears on her face, but all she can think about is the gasp the woman she had started to think of as her mom had let out, and the crumpled look of pain that dashed across her face. If she hustles, it’ll be a three-hour ride out and back home. A lot can happen in six hours.

…

“Can we open the windows? I feel like I’m sweating buckets.” Even though it’s the middle of winter in Wyoming, Maria nods, creaking both windows open to let the frigid air in. She won’t let it show, but she’s nervous. It’s early, and unexpected. Unexpected is never good.

Kevin had come early, back before. They had to keep him in an incubator for two weeks. She remembers only being able to touch him through plastic gloves, how it had sent her reeling, not being able to hold him close to her right away. What she would have given to have him laid on her chest the instant he was born instead of being whisked away by nurses. She just hopes that it’s not too early for her, this woman she’s come to think of as a sister.

She had certainly been wary of her, and of Joel, when they first came, grizzled partners of obvious violence that they were. But seeing the way they took care of Ellie, and of each other, it became clear to her that their violence was never purposeless, rather an unavoidable cost to their quiet love for one another. They were family now.

“Let’s get you into some fresh clothes, alright?” She nods to Maria, biting down on her clear expression of turmoil as Maria takes her into the bathroom.

“Do you think you can stand for a bit? Would a shower help?” She gets no response, a vacant stare has settled over her face. Maria kneels down to get on her level where she’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Hey. I need you to stay right here with me, alright? Ellie’s gonna get Joel back here as quick as she can. But you have to focus on this right now. I’ve got you, you’re not gonna do this alone.” She brings her focus back on Maria, tears threatening to spill over. A twinge runs through Maria’s chest at the sight of this normally tough woman on the brink of dissolving. She takes both her hands in hers.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

Tommy hasn’t seen his brother like this in a long time. As he patrols the perimeter of the dam, he thinks to himself that Joel probably hasn’t acted like this since before the world ended, since before he lost Sarah. While it’s clear he’s worried, it’s also clear he cares. And while he’d never admit it to him, Tommy can see that he’s excited. For the first time in a long time, Tommy thinks that Joel looks wide awake.

But, damn, had he been so close to fucking it all up. Tommy had been so upset that day, when she knocked on his door and dissolved into tears, telling him what his brother had said. She’s tough as nails, and so is Joel, but it’s clear they’re each other’s weak spot. He’s just happy Joel didn’t fuck it up any worse afterward. There was no question he knew how to do it right. It was something Tommy always admired, and aspired to, how good he was with Sarah. When he found out Maria was pregnant, his mind often wandered to those first years that Joel had Sarah, and how amazed Tommy had been at how quickly he filled his new role. A natural father. Joel had told him he was hoping for a boy, but Tommy couldn’t see his brother not raising a girl.

He keeps walking through the snow, eyes shifting, looking for anything out of place. Like usual, it’s quiet, and he reckons Joel is finding the same thing from where he’s surveying a little further south.

It’s not quiet for long, however, his ears pricking to the sound of what he thinks are galloping hooves. He stills, cocking his gun, eyes darting around him, settling on the lone rider bounding toward him. He fixes his sight in the scope of his rifle, letting out a low curse when he can see that it’s Ellie.

This can’t be good.

…

“You’re about six centimeters dilated. We’re getting there, my dear.” She lets out a low groan as the next contraction washes over her.

“Jesus, fuck.” Doctor Graham checks her watch.

“Five minutes apart. And it ain’t jesus, honey. That’s all you.” Maria snorts at that, helping her get up from her bed so she can start pacing again. It’s the only thing that’s been taking her mind off the contractions. She glances at doctor Graham who has sat down in the armchair to take more notes.

“Doctor? How much longer do you think until it’s time to– it’s time–” She sets down her notepad, smiling softly at her.

“Well, I’d say anywhere from two to four hours until you’re ready to push. But then that’s gonna be a whole new rodeo. And I’ve told you a hundred times already to just call me Suze.” She nods, trying to muster a smile as she continues to pace the rug, Maria hovering alongside her. She glances at her, a hopeful lift to her brow.

“Joel will be back by then, right? He’ll be back in time?” Maria sighs, squeezing her arm.

“I just don’t know. But I hope so.” She doesn’t have time to frown at her words, not when a new contraction is making her keel over where she stands.

“Three minutes apart that time. Certainly getting closer. Baby’s gonna be here soon.”

…

Joel feels like he’s drowning as they hurry to mount up and get home. When Tommy and Ellie had come bounding towards him, he didn’t believe it at first, had shouted at Ellie that it was impossible, it was too early.

“Well you’re not the one who saw her fucking water break, old man!” That had shut him up quick. As they strap their packs to their horses, it feels like tiny fissures are splitting through his heart, and each breath is threatening to send him crumbling to pieces. He can’t think about it, if he does he’ll get paralyzed by terror, but all he wants is to scream because she needs him and he isn’t there.

He’s broken out of his haze by the stark sound of guns cocking.

They jerk around in a flash, he and Tommy holding up their rifles, Ellie whipping out a knife. Four men come prowling out of the treeline, the mouths of their guns facing them down. Raiders no doubt. Joel is just about ready to destroy them with his bare hands if he has to, but he takes a beat, trying to gather his fracturing thoughts. One of the men finally speaks.

“You folks better drop your weapons if you know what’s good for you.” No one moves, Joel quickly glancing at Tommy.

“I said drop your fucking weapons!” Here’s what Joel knows in that moment. He knows that Ellie still carries a gun tucked in the back of her belt, even though he keeps telling her not to. He knows Tommy’s got a side piece tucked under his jacket, as well as a hunting knife strapped to his leg. And he knows that he himself has enough unadulterated rage in his body right now to rip this man’s head clean off his shoulders.

He glances at Tommy and Ellie again, the slightest nod, and they all drop their weapons, palms up. The men step closer, eyeing the horses.

“Where are you folks from?” It’s Tommy who responds.

“Nowhere, we’re just passing through.” The man sneers at him.

“Oh yeah? Those horses look pretty good for you to be just passing through.” Ellie butts in.

“We–we stole them! From an old couple a few miles north.” The men keep inching up on them. Joel just needs them to get a little closer. The man who seems to be the leader sizes Joel up.

“Well, then I guess it’s no hard feelings if we take them off your hands, huh?” It’s almost imperceptible, the look he shoots at Tommy and Ellie, a silent understanding that’s arisen after enough standoffs together. Joel’s on the man before he can even get his finger on the trigger.

He can hear gunshots ringing out, catching the sight of two of the men falling in his periphery, but he’s too zeroed in on the man he’s throttling into the ground to check if it had been Tommy or Ellie who got them. He keeps his hand pinning the gasping man down by his throat, reaching back to draw his knife out.

“Real sorry about this, but the missus is expecting me.”

…

She thinks briefly of the time she got shot in the thigh. Back when it was her, Joel, and Tess, and their smuggling business in the Boston QZ. Tess had to pluck the bullet out of where it had lodged in the muscle of her thigh, digging a pair of tweezers into the wound. She thinks that this hurts way more than that.

Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, doesn’t even sound human, when she lets out a low, guttural scream, pressing her head back into the pillows, her chest heaving under her sweat-soaked tank top. Doctor Graham - Suze - is kneeling on the end of the bed between her spread legs. Maria is holding her hand tight alongside the bed.

“Nine centimeters. We’re gonna have you pushing in the next hour, my dear.” She sobs, shaking her head.

“No, we can’t– we can’t yet– please– we have to wait–” Maria shushes her, bringing a damp cloth to her forehead.

“Listen, Joel’s gonna get here when he gets here– if we try to wait it could hurt you or baby. You have to do this, Joel or no Joel.” Maria squeezes her hand, offering her sips of water that she refuses. She lets out a humorless laugh, bracing for another contraction.

“I swear to god if he doesn’t get here in time, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

…

Ellie’s never seen Joel move so fast, and the second he’s mounted, he’s gone, damn near impossible to catch up with in the whipping snow. She and Tommy do their best to stay on his tail, but he quickly becomes a speck in the distance as they all ride home.

…

She’s not sure how long she’s been pushing now, but it feels like an eternity. The only thing keeping her a sliver sane is Maria guiding her through each push, breathing with her.

“We’re crowning, my dear. You’re doing so great, honey. Let’s get ready for another strong push.” Her eyes dart between Suze who’s kneeling between her legs and Maria, wild panic creeping up her throat. Maria takes both her hands, holding her gaze firm and steady.

“I’m here with you. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” Suze squeezes her knee.

“I’m gonna count you down, my dear, and then I want another beautiful push just like you’ve been doing. Three– two–”

She lets out a blood-curdling scream on one.

…

“Open the fucking gates!” Joel glances over his shoulder, barely making out Tommy waving his red bandana in the air and hollering into the wind. He turns back, hearing the harsh groan of the wall opening. He’s coming in hot, hotter than he should. Normally people have to dismount before they pass through. But nothing about this is normal.

He whips through the narrow opening, galloping right down the main drag of town, people scrambling in shock to get out of his way.

When he reaches their home, he sees a whole cluster of people hanging on the railings of the porch, heads craned up towards the open windows on the second floor. He brings his horse to a hard, skittering stop, the crowd whipping around to look at him with agape expressions. He dismounts, but is stuck where he stands when a preening scream comes resounding from the windows. His heart finally shatters. He rushes up to the front door before thinking twice and shouting over his shoulder at the bystanders.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do? Get!” He barely hears their shocked gasps as he slips inside and slams the door behind him.

He’s still got his rifle strapped around him as he bounds up the stairs two at a time. He shoulders into the bedroom right as she’s letting out another ragged scream. The sight of her takes his breath away, her crumpled expression as she finishes pushing, her sweat-damp hair stuck to her face. Suze is quick to fix him with a hard look before he gets any closer.

“Oh, absolutely not, mister. You’re not getting anywhere near her until you lose the gun and clean off whoever’s blood that is.”

…

Her eyes crack open after her last push and she’s shocked to see him standing there.

“Joel?” He yanks his rifle off his shoulder, dropping it outside the bedroom door. She can see blood spattered across his jacket and face.

“I’m right here, baby.” He quickly shucks off his jacket and boots, hustling over to the bathroom. She cranes her neck and can just see him harshly scrubbing at his arms and face before he hurries back into the bedroom, Maria moving out of the way to let him kneel down alongside the bed. She narrows her eyes at him as he takes her hand.

“F-f-fuck you. I’ve been trying– trying to wait for you all day. Do you know how fucking hard that’s been?” His face goes slack at her harsh words, but before he can respond a contraction hits and she has to push, curling up over her stomach and bearing down hard as Suze counts her through it. She squeezes his hand tight, slumping back in a mess of heaving breath when she’s done. He takes her face in his hands, holding her gaze steady.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now? I’ve been trying to get back to you all goddamn day! You were the one that told me to go, you mad woman!” She huffs, getting ready to reply but Suze cuts her off.

“Hey! You two! Cut the bullshit so we can get this baby out, huh? A few more strong pushes is all it’s gonna take.” Her focus immediately falls back to the pain she’s in, and she grips onto both of Joel’s wrists, whimpering his name.

“I’ve got you, mama. Tell me what you need. What can I do, baby?”

“Want you closer, please– n-n-need you with me, closer.” He shushes her, letting go of her face and coaxing her to sit up a bit as he gracelessly crawls onto the bed to slide behind her. His legs splay out, framing her bent knees, and she rests back into his chest, her head laying back on his shoulder. For a moment, relief floods through her body as he brings a forearm to wrap over her sternum, hand squeezing her opposite shoulder as he presses kisses into her damp hair.

Suze settles back into position between her legs, Maria now standing alongside the bed with towels and scissors ready. Suze gives her a firm nod.

“Alright, my dear. I’m gonna count you down and you give me another strong push.” She brings her hands to curl over Joel’s forearm bracing, herself for another lick of pain, while he lowly murmurs in her ear.

“I’m here with you, baby. You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

…

“Three– two– one.” The scream she lets out sends a jagged shiver down Joel’s spine and he finds himself grinding his teeth as she bears down, her nails digging hard into his arm. He hadn’t been there for Sarah’s birth, not really, she was a c-section. This is certainly different.

She slumps back in his hold, her head lolling on his chest as she looks up at him through teary eyes.

“I can’t– I can’t do anymore, Joel– please.” He squeezes her shoulder, bringing his other hand to tangle with one of hers.

“You can, baby– I know you can– strongest person I know, huh? You’re so close, baby, just a little bit more.” She lets out a broken sob and Joel hates that he can’t do more for her, helplessly pressing a kiss to her forehead and continuing to murmur to her. Suze clears her throat.

“I think this next one is gonna do it. But you gotta make it a good one, my dear. Can you do that for me?” She huffs in his hold, shuddering around another sob before sitting up a little more against his chest. When she looks up at him, there’s steel in her eyes and Joel realizes that those weren’t just comforting words he told her, she really is the strongest person he’s ever met. She looks back at Suze and gives her a quick nod.

“Count me down. I’m ready.”

…

It’s a searing pain and then the sweetest relief she’s ever felt. The room is awash with the sound of cries and it makes her head go dizzy that it’s coming from her baby. Suze snips the umbilical cord, and Maria wraps the squirming thing up in towels before giving her a bright smile.

“It’s a girl.” What she wasn’t expecting was the breathy laugh Joel lets out over her shoulder at that, his words dripping in awe.

“It’s a girl. Our girl.”

Maria carefully walks to the side of the bed and lays her on her chest. It’s the most natural feeling thing in the world as she cups her impossibly small head, a tiny palm splaying like a star over her sternum. Joel brings a tentative palm over their girl’s little back. She glances back at him, tears settling in the creases of his smile.

“You did it, darlin. Did so good for her– you’re amazing.” She breathes out a wet laugh.

“I had help.” Joel grins, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Just a little. But that was all you.” She snorts, looking back down on her girl whose cries have settled into low coos before glancing back at Joel.

“You helped.” That makes him laugh, gaze focusing back on their girl.

“Just a little. Christ– know I wouldn’t shut up about wanting a boy– but she’s perfect.” She smiles, settling back against his chest and watching as her eyes open for the first time, wide and wild as she seems to take in her and Joel. He lets out a low sigh.

“Hey, baby girl. M’sorry I almost missed you. Never gonna happen again, huh? Think your mama would kill me first.” She scoffs, jostling back against him as he chuckles. He rests his chin on her shoulder, fully enrapt with their girl as she starts to look around, tiny fingers flexing against her chest.

“What’s her name, darlin?” She bites her lip, craning her neck to look back at him.

“I was thinking Olivia Sarah Miller. What do you think?” She sees his features soften even more, a sweet sadness threading into his joy. He nods.

“I think that sounds perfect for our girl. I love you, darlin. Love you both so much.” His voice is warbly, but she’s still never heard him sound so sure of something. She offers him the same certainty in her own voice.

“I love you too, Joel. And our little family.”

The sound of stomping boots sounds through the house, and Ellie comes blustering into the room, cheeks red and puffing hard breaths.

“Oh thank fuck. Is it– are you– are you ok?” Maria and Suze both chuckle from where they’re cleaning up Suze’s supplies. She smiles at Ellie, lightly nodding, but it’s Joel who speaks.

“They’re both alright, kid. Your sister’s a fighter, just like her mama.” As if on cue, Olivia lets out a small cry, her tiny fist pressing into her chest. Ellie laughs in disbelief.

A little family indeed.

…

Joel’s back is killing him. The first few weeks have been a bit touch and go with Libby coming so early, and they’ve been sleeping in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in the nursery, hardly leaving the room, making sure she’s warm and fed at all times. So Joel’s back is killing him, but he doesn’t care at all, not when every time he leans over the crib he’s met with the sweet sight of their girl, their little amalgamation of all their best parts.

“Well, she’s looking good, very healthy, nice strong lungs, putting on weight just like we want her to. I’d say you’ve got a tough one on your hands.” His shoulders slacken in relief at Suze’s words as she starts packing up her bag of medical tools. Libby begins to fuss in her crib and her mama is quick to pick her up, murmuring to her and bouncing her lightly before turning her attention back to the doctor.

“So would you say we’re in the clear?” He can see the worry creased across her face as she asks the question to Suze. He brings his arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly as he gazes down at their girl. Suze grins.

“While anything’s possible, my professional opinion is that Miss Olivia here is going to do just fine. Although right now I’d say she’s looking a little hungry, so I’ll get out of your hair.” Suze slings her bag over her shoulder, nodding to them both before letting herself out.

She’s already moving to sit in the rocking chair that had been a gift from Tommy and Maria. Joel would never admit it, but he’s been getting worked up every time he gets to see her feed their girl. A softness takes over her that’s rare in this world, all hushed murmurings as Libby’s hand splays over the swell of her breast, content gasps coming from their girl as she starts to suckle. Joel can’t help but hover whenever he gets the chance, leaning against the back of the chair and dropping a kiss to her temple every now and again, sharing little smiles between watching their girl.

“Ellie told me she thinks you’re getting soft, Miller. Said she can’t believe you’ve opted out of patrol shifts to work the stables.” Joel huffs, standing up straight to stretch his aching back.

“Just got more important things closer to home I guess. But I ain’t getting soft, no ma’am.” She hums at that, craning her neck to peer at him.

“Oh really? It wasn’t you I heard up here yesterday afternoon singing some sweet little song to Libby?” He balks at that, trying to stifle a grin as he shakes his head. He had spent some time with their girl yesterday afternoon while she caught up on sleep on the couch downstairs, and maybe he had started humming tunes to her, watching her eyes widen with the sound of his voice like magic.

“Nah, couldn’t have been me. Think you’re hearing things, darlin. All them hormones are messing with you.” She rolls her eyes at that, righting her shirt before standing with Libby in her arms. She sways slightly side to side, looking at him over the top of Libby’s head.

“I like you soft, Joel. It’s a good look on you. At least when you want to be.” There’s such adoration in her eyes as she looks at him that he can’t help the blush creeping up his neck.

“Only for my girls. Everyone else can fuck off.” She laughs hard at that, shushing Libby when she starts to fuss at the sound. He shuffles over to her, coaxing their girl out of her arms and into his. He had thought it’d feel awkward, holding her for the first time, but it all came back to him in a flash, and now nothing felt quite as right as when he had her little body resting in his arms. She steps back, taking in the sight of him and humming.

“Don’t let Ellie see you like this, she’s gonna think you’ve gone full teddy bear.” He only grumbles a little, too focused on watching their girl’s wide eyes peering around. If being soft means he gets moments like this, he’ll take all of Ellie’s heckling, no complaints at all.

…

“So what’d the doctor say? Everything looking good?” “Kid, if you don’t chew first you’re gonna choke with the way you’re talking. Just slow down a little, huh?” Ellie huffs at Joel, swallowing around her bite of dinner before looking at her expectantly. She chuckles lightly at the girl’s eager expression.

“She said Libby’s doing great, told us that she’s a tough one.” Ellie grins, startling Joel when she slaps him on the back.

“Well seeing as she came from you two hardasses I’d sure hope she’s tough– I say that with love, of course.” Joel grumbles, side-eyeing her and muttering “of course.” She lays her hand over Ellie’s from across the table.

“Ellie, I never really thanked you for what you did that day, riding out like that. You don’t know how much that meant to me.” Suddenly shy, Ellie offers her a soft smile, shrugging.

“Couldn’t let the old man miss all the fun, right? I’d do it again in an instant, just so you know. Seeing as I– like– love you guys– I guess.” She glances at Joel who’s obviously trying to hold back a grin. She squeezes Ellie’s hand.

“We love you too, Ellie bean. Me, the old man, and your little sister.” Ellie’s smile brightens into a grin at that. Joel grumbles again.

“Can y’all stop calling me that? Not even that old, goddamn.” They share a laugh at his furrowed look. As they finish dinner, she can’t help but sit back and take in the sight of this strange family they’ve created. Joel and Ellie bickering about training the new horses for the spring, Libby dozing in her bassinet alongside the table. It’s something she could have never imagined, but she knows it’s perfect. It’s family.

…

“Suze said we really don’t need to be sleeping in there with her now. It’ll be ok, we’re like ten feet further away and a whole lot less cramped.” Joel seems unsure about what she says, glancing back at the crib where they just laid their sleepy girl down. She huffs, tugging on his shirt collar to pull him along across the hall to their bedroom.

“Joel, it’s fine. She’s gonna be crying in a few hours and we’ll both end up back in there anyways. Why don’t we try to get some sleep not as a human pretzel beforehand, huh?” He sighs, but acquiesces to her coaxing, following her into the bathroom as they both start getting ready for bed.

It’s silly, but she can’t stop watching the muscles in his forearm jumping as he brushes his teeth, her thoughts going a bit fuzzy and warm. Sex has been the last thing on her mind these last few weeks, and Suze had told her that was normal with all the hormonal shifts. But with six weeks in the rearview mirror of absolutely nothing, she’s getting hot under the collar just looking at his goddamn arms. She clears her throat, gripping the edge of the sink as she looks at him through the mirror.

“You know, Suze told me something else during my check-up today.” Joel hums, wiping toothpaste off his mouth as he turns to look at her.

“Yeah, she, uh, gave me the go ahead for the other kind of human pretzels.” She’s mortified at her horrible joke the moment it leaves her mouth, but Joel lets out a laugh, throwing his head back and crinkling his eyes shut. She huffs, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting as he tries to recompose himself. When he sees her crestfallen expression, he immediately dips down, trying to catch her gaze while stifling his laughter.

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. Just– please– never use the phrase human pretzel again.” He can barely get the words out as he dissolves into another laugh. She rolls her eyes, turning to walk away from him but he’s quick to pull her in until her back is snug against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he dips his chin down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry– I’m done, I swear. So, uh, are you telling me you want to?” She scoffs, trying to get out of his hold but he just squeezes her tighter.

“Well, I did. But then somebody laughed at me.” He shushes her, pressing kisses into the side of her neck that trail up her jaw all the way to her temple.

“C’mon, mama. Don’t be like that, huh? Been missing you so bad.” She’s already melting in his grasp at the way he’s nuzzling the slope of her neck, letting his lips drag over her skin. She lets out a breathy sigh of his name and can feel the way his mouth curls into a grin.

“Now that’s more like it, darlin.” She turns in his hold, meeting him in a hard kiss. They both groan into each other’s mouths, practically devouring each other in a tangle of tongues and bumping teeth. Only coming up for quick gasps of air, they shuffle back into the bedroom, hands roaming and wandering. Joel’s quick to lose his shirt with a harsh tug of it over his head and she immediately dips to smear kisses along his chest, fingernails grazing down his front. He tucks his fingers under her chin to bring her back up for a kiss, licking into her mouth hotly. But she stills in his hold when his fingers start working at the buttons of her flannel.

“Wanna see you– been missing just looking at you.” His words are murmured hotly into her neck, so he doesn’t catch the crumpled look that’s settled over her face.

She knows it’s stupid, but she’s been hiding from Joel over the last few weeks. It seems like her body looks a little different with each day, and while he had practically worshiped her pregnant body, this wasn’t that, and it certainly wasn’t what she looked like before. She steps back a bit, gripping his wrists to keep him from getting any further with her buttons. He looks at her with total confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She sighs, tucking her chin into her chest, too embarrassed to meet his questioning gaze.

“I just– it’s different– I’m different– don’t want you to be disappointed.” A heavy silence falls between them. She’s shocked when it’s broken by Joel laughing, quickly whipping her head up to see him looking at her like she’s gone mad. She huffs.

“I swear to god, Joel Miller, if you laugh at me one more time, I’m gonna–” he’s quick to cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her back towards him.

“Hey, hey, hey– I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at that ridiculous shit you said. I don’t wanna hear that kinda talk from you ever again, huh? You– you’re amazing. I could never be disappointed when I look at you, darlin. You wanna know why?” She glances at him, seeing that he’s grinning.

“Because, when I look at you, I see the woman who was batshit crazy enough to love me.” She snorts at that, but he’s not done.

“When I look at you, I see the woman who gave me life back. Who gave me family. You’re everything, darlin. When I look at you, I see everything.” Tears run down her cheeks as she laughs wetly at his words.

“Ellie’s right, you have gone soft.” He huffs around his grin, shaking his head as he dips down to wrap her up in a deep kiss, bringing his palms to cup her jaw as he all but takes her breath away. When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, their lips lightly brushing as he murmurs to her.

“Will you let me see you, darlin? Please?” She holds his gaze, nodding only slightly, but it’s enough to get a broad smile out of him as he lays one more kiss to her lips before letting his hands wander back down to the buttons of her shirt.

She holds her breath the whole time, only exhaling when he slips the shirt down her shoulders. When she finally glances at his face, all she sees there is awe as he lets his fingers ghost up her hips, her sides, over the tops of her bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful. Just wanna look at you, huh? Never wanna stop looking at you.” Before the hard blush creeps any further up her neck, she pulls him in for another kiss, her mind swimming in the feeling of bare skin pressed to bare skin. Joel starts to shuffle them back toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she’s splaying back with a soft “oof” as he hovers over her.

Joel’s mouth starts to wander, trailing down her neck, along her collarbone. She can’t help but preen when he laves his tongue over the swell of her breast, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there before doing the same to the other side. He keeps meandering lower and lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips in his wake until he’s nudging his nose along the waistband of her pants. She huffs under his teasing ministrations and he looks up at her deep pout with a smug grin.

“Patience, darlin. Just trying to love on you a little, huh? Been a while.” She cards her fingers through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

“It has been a while– so quit fucking teasing already.” He snorts at that, murmuring into her skin how she’s “so bossy, goddamn” but he seems to comply with her plea, fingers working quickly to undo her pants and slide them off her legs along with her panties.

He kneels at the foot of the bed between her legs, eyes roaming over her completely bare figure, lips parted and eyes blown wide. She feels like she could melt he’s looking at her so hard. He brings his palms to her calves, dipping down to nose along the inside of one leg, trailing up and up and up until his breath is just grazing where she needs him most. But he’s gone in an instant, and she actually whines as he starts to mouth down the soft skin of her other thigh. He shushes her, his low murmuring rasp thrumming through her skin.

“So beautiful. My beautiful woman. I’ll give you what you need, darlin.” With that, he skims back to the apex of her thighs, and she shivers as he coaxes her legs over his shoulders, spreading her out for him as he lays between her thighs. No more teasing, he licks a broad stripe through her folds that makes her press her head back hard into the pillows. He works her over like a man starved, fingers flexing into the softness of her thighs as he licks into her, smearing her wetness up to her clit and laving over the nerves there. She lets her fingers drag through his hair, tugging lightly, his low groans sending jolts through her core. A ragged moan draws through her chest when he pulls away just slightly to spit on her cunt, quickly chasing the slick with his tongue and coaxing out more gasps from her.

“Fuck, Joel– feel so good, please– I need– I need–” she can’t even get it out, she’s so far gone, but he knows her well enough to understand what she wants, slipping two of his fingers inside her and finding a steady rhythm as he mouths at her clit.

“Want you to come for me. Just like this. C’mon, darlin, lemme see you.” The combination of his words and his wide eyes gazing up at her send her falling right over the edge of pleasure. She comes with a harsh gasp of his name, fluttering around his fingers as he works her through it.

He pulls away, shifting up the bed until he’s caging in her heaving body, stealing messy kisses tinged with the taste of her. She brings her trembling hands to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt until he gets the hint, sitting back to quickly shuck his pants down his legs. His cock is hot and stiff where it rests against the plush of her thigh, she can practically feel him throbbing.

“Joel, need you so bad. Want you– wanna feel you–” he quiets her murmurs with another kiss before fisting himself and sliding the head of his cock through her folds, hissing at the contact. She whimpers when he starts to press into her and he immediately stills, worried eyes darting to hers. She cups his face in her palm, stroking his jaw reassuringly.

“It’s ok– just need it gentle, baby.” He hums, turning to press a kiss to the middle of her palm.

“I’ve got you, darlin. Wanna make you feel good.” He’s slow and careful as he rocks into her, laying kisses on her lips with each little gasp she lets out as he shifts deeper inside of her. When their hips finally meet, they both let out ragged sighs, and he presses his forehead to the top of her sternum, panting hard into her skin.

“Fuck, I missed you– I’m not gonna last long, darlin– feels too good– always so good for me.” She grazes her nails down his back, letting out a sigh of his name.

“Need you to move, Joel– please, baby– just wanna feel you–” he presses a kiss to the dip between her collar bones before pulling out, languidly rolling his hips back into hers in a way that has them both gasping. She crooks her leg up along his hip, spreading herself open for him to press deeper as he finds a steady rhythm of push and pull. They move well together, just like they always have, her hips canting up into his with each thrust as they swallow each other’s sighs and moans in a mess of kisses. Joel brings one of his hands down to the softness of her stomach, fingers circling her clit.

“Will you come for me, darlin? Fuck– please, honey– need to feel you.” It doesn’t take much more for her to dissolve around him, digging her nails into the sliding muscles of his back as he fucks her through it. She hisses when he pulls out, watching dazed as he strokes himself over her before painting his spend across her heaving stomach. Joel flops down beside her as they both catch their racing heartbeats. She turns her head to look at him, a grin crooking across her face.

“Still got it, huh, old man?” He huffs out a laugh, turning onto his side to draw her in for a kiss.

“Still got it, mama.”

After getting cleaned up, they may have only gotten an hour of sleep before their girl woke them both up with a cry, but it had certainly been worth it.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #unexpected expectings

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 8 months

Note

loved the beach Jake drabble!!! It got me thinking about one of the daggers ACTUALLY catching him full on in the act (if that's something you'd wanna write of course xx)

YES I DO, YES YES YES - also thank you sm, glad you liked it!!!! disclaimer for this one: i know nothing about the us military so. haha. if he'd get fired for this um. ignore it.

as always, feel free to keep requesting (here)!

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

It's risky. You're well aware.

But it's also late. And you're pretty sure no one's coming back into the locker room anymore.

So you don't say no. You don't even say maybe. You just cross your arms behind Jake's neck and pull him down to you before he can finish asking if you're sure.

You've got him out of his flight suit in half a minute, let him work his fingers into you for about two more and then mewl so pathetically into his kisses that he chuckles and gives in to your pleas.

He's thrusting into you a few moments later, your legs wrapped around him, your fingers tangled in his hair, scratching down his neck, your back against the cold metal of his locker, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your chest - sloppy, wet and quick, all of it.

You're needy and whiny and entirely too close too fast as he rubs circles against your clit, your moans carrying far and deep into the empty room.

"Jake", you whimper, over and over, strung together incoherently as he hits all your sweet spots, groans into your skin and sinks his teeth into your throat. "Just like that."

His skin is so warm under your fingertips, so easy to drag your nails along, and he's doing everything right, everything, and you're so needy, so desperate, so close-

"Holy shit!"

Jake freezes and snaps his head around and you genuinely feel like your soul leaves your body for a second there, your heart thumping against your ribcage so hard and fast that you wouldn't be surprised if it jumped right out of your chest.

Over Jake's shoulder, you can see Bradley standing in the middle of the room, phone in his hand and door wide open behind him.

You'd been far from hearing the door open.

You'd been far from hearing anything.

Bradley's mouth has fallen open and his eyes are so comically wide that he looks straight out of an animated movie. He stares at you for one, two, three seconds too long.

You stare right back.

Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.

Then Jake presses his palms against the locker next to your head, shields your body with his.

"Get! Out!", he seethes, enough anger in his voice to snap Bradley out of his trance, who immediately throws up his arms in surrender and spins on his heels.

"I'm going! I'm going! Sorry!", Bradley calls out in blind panic, nothing short of sprinting out of the locker room with an unintelligible string of what you think are probably another few hundred sorry's.

You gawk after him for too long. Much too long.

So long that Jake drops his head against your shoulder and takes in a shaky breath.

You're panting as well, heart still racing too fast and too much adrenaline pumping through your veins. The reality of the situation takes a while to sink in.

There'd been a risk of getting caught, of course. But a risk that you'd kind of dismissed in the first place, because the squad had already left when you'd sneaked into the men's locker room after Jake.

And now... Now, Bradley had actually caught you.

He'd caught Jake fucking you against the lockers, plain and simple.

"Shit", you mutter. Jake pulls his head back and looks at you. He's still inside of you, his hands still caging you in, his lips still kiss-swollen and smeared with your lipbalm.

His eyes roam your face. You let him. You wouldn't know what else to do anyway. So you just let him take you in and slowly try to calm your breathing.

Then, softly, he presses his lips against yours - just once, touching briefly, lingering for a second too long. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, waiting until he kisses you a second time, then a third, then a fourth, each one longer and longer and longer. You've stopped counting when his tongue brushes along your lips and you part them eagerly, scratch your nails down his neck again.

When he starts moving, you're meeting his thrusts - deliberately at first, but the desperate need for him hits you like a wave and within minutes, you're moaning again, whining and whimpering as his kisses get sloppier and his fingers drop to your clit once more.

Tomorrow, you'll have to deal with Bradley and the squad, who he's probably already texting frantically. But tonight, you'll take Jake home and he'll make you forget about all of it for a few hours.

#x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun #top gun x reader

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hyperfixiation-station · 10 months

Text

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information Pt.2

Apprehension

TW: Torture, graphicish violence, angst Summary: Backstory time >:)

A Study in Torture, Rescue

1 Month, 3 days ago

You grunt softly, hoisting yourself over the wall and dropping near silently to the ground. You cradle a fractured wrist to your chest, cursing Ghost and his inability to fly a helicopter.

“Hang on kid!”

“I’m trying!”

“Shit! Ghost you’ve got to level the chopper!”

“I’m! Trying!”

“Don’t let me fall, MacTavish!”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my God.”

“Ghost you have to turn around!”

“I can’t!”

“Y/N!”

You shake your head, breaking out of the reverie. Focus, you tell yourself. You creep silently through the enemy encampment, sticking to the shadows. Your eyes dart back and forth, constantly scanning your surroundings for danger.

You crouch, moving behind a tent as voices sounded from in front of you. You watch as soldiers walk past you, sighing in relief when they don't seem to notice you. That relief is short-lived however, as cool metal is pressed into your back.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Heavily-accented English sounds from behind you. The man holding the gun pulls it away, then slams the butt of it into your temple. You don’t even have time to respond before the world goes dark.

You come to in a dark room. Grunting, you try to sit up, but stop when spikes of pain flare through your wrists. Your head spins and you look down, blinking sluggishly. Your eyes widen as you finally notice that you are handcuffed to a table, hands up above your head.

“Good morning, pretty bird.” Slightly Russian-accented English sounds from behind you, “about time you woke up.” A man comes into view, and though it takes you a few seconds, you recognize him.

“Colonel Kravchenko.” You mutter, tongue thick and heavy in your mouth.

“So you know me.” You say nothing, just follow him with your eyes. He sighs softly, moving next to the table you are strapped to.

“So, Y/N L/N. You know, you really should not be in enemy territory with an I.D. on you. As it is, I now know pretty much everything about you, including the fact that you are a member of an...elite team I have been hunting.” He double checks your restraints as he speaks, circling the table and stopping by your side.

“Being as such, you have information I want.” He grins, “You can give this to me the boring, easy way, or you can let me have fun.”

Fear coils in your belly, but you do not let it show. You are a trained, battle-hardened soldier, and you will not give up your team for anything.

“Well, pretty bird? Are you going to talk to me?” You remain silent, watching him. He grins sharply at the silence, almost eager.

“Good. I hate the boring ones anyways.” He moves out of your line of sight, returning with a covered cart next to him, “There are a few rules we’ll have to go over before we start, of course. But we can introduce them slowly, I don’t want to…overwhelm you. The first, and most important, is that you will address me as Sir whenever you speak.” You snort, rolling your eyes at that.

“You think that's a funny, pretty bird?”

“A little, yeah.” You snark, trying to hide your fear.

“Sir.” He says, annoyed.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t.”

“You are a soldier, no?” You nod instinctively, confused at the turn in conversation.

“It would be a shame for you to never be able to hold a gun again, wouldn’t it be, pretty bird?” he croons. He slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers. If you weren’t concussed, maybe you would be able to guess what he was about to do, but your brain is foggy, thought process muddled. So it comes as a surprise when he jerks his hand up, forcing your fingers back. There is a crunching noise as your bones shatter, fire lacing up your arm. He squeezes the broken fingers and you scream.

“Pretty bird, you and I are going to have so much fun together.” The man laughs, letting go of your hand, “Now, we’ll start off simple. What were you doing in my airspace?” You say nothing, teeth clenched, eyes watering. He turns his back to you, flipping the cloth of the cart. You watch through blurry eyes as he pulls something from it before flipping the cloth back over. In his hands is a towel.

“I’ll ask you one more time. What were you doing in my airspace?” You say nothing, just stare at him. He smiles, delighted by your decision to play hard to get.

“Your choice, pretty bird.” He drapes the towel over your face, obscuring your vision. You panic, breaths coming in rapid bursts at the inability to see anything. You calm down slightly as the towel is flipped down so you can see again, still covering your mouth and nose. You blame the concussion again for not being able to put two-and-two together, but you are confused until he returns, bucket in hand.

You squirm pointlessly, trying to get away. The man simply chuckles, pouring the water over your face. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually you exhale, gasping as your lungs demand air. Immediately, the wet cloth is sucked to your skin, suffocating you. You panic, no longer able to control your breathing as you inhale sharply and gag at the water running down your throat in a vicious cycle.

Though it feels like hours, you are only under the water for about a minute before the cloth is pulled away. Your body heaves as you choke, gasping greedily for air.

“What were you doing in our airspace?” You say nothing, just sob softly.

“Have it your way, pretty bird.” The cloth is placed back over your face and the water is poured again. And again. And again.

~~~~~Meanwhile~~~~~

“Bloody hell.” Ghosts snarls as he brings the chopper to a rough landing. He jumps out, followed by Soap and Gaz. Price stands in the hanger, waiting for them.

“I heard.” He says solemnly as Gaz opens his mouth, “They are sending men out to look for them, and it took every favor Laswell has ever owed me to get us sent out.” He turns on his heel, not bothering to check if his men were following. He leads them to a briefing room, slamming the door shut behind him.

A map of the enemy territory is projected on the white board, upon which Price draws a small red circle.

“This is our best guess as to where they landed. We have received no communication from them since they fell.” He pauses, sighing softly, “Officially, they have been marked K.I.A and this is a body recovery. Unofficially, this is a rescue op. We don’t lose hope until their body is on the table in front of us, okay?”

“We are rolling out tomorrow.” He continues, “So get to the infirmary, get checked out, and get some sleep.”

Sounds of agreement echo from the room, and Gaz and Price exit, leaving Soap and Ghost alone in the room.

“Not your fault Johnny.”

“Not yours either Lt.”

Neither of them believe the other. The guilt lays heavy in the room, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The minutes drag out for hours as they sit in stony silence.

"If anyone can survive out there, it's Y/N. We'll find 'em." Soaps voice trembles slightly as he breaks the silence. Ghost nods in agreement.

"Lets hit the rack." It's not a suggestion. They walk out of the room side-by-side, both thinking the same thing.

My fault.

Soap still holds the glove that had slid off your hand as you fell from the chopper.

Okay question. When you finally get rescued do we want major PTSD or only some PTSD?

Also do y'all want more torture scenes or do you want the rescue?

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #angst #cod fanfic #no beta we die like men #this is fun #cod #ghost fanfiction #soap fanfic #price fanfiction #gaz fanfic #ghost can't drive

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impala-dreamer · 9 months

Text

Tourniquet - Chapter One

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

All The Damage That This Dark World Does

It had been raining on and off for days and the ground was little more than a muddy expanse that swallowed up the soles of their boots like quicksand.

The forest was dark and the air rang loud with the requiem of nature. Birds sang low and sad; branches crackled underfoot. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled and the hunters froze. Each set of ears turned towards the sound and eyes darted about while tired minds calculated distances.

Bobby’s gruff whisper broke through the rain’s symphony. “‘Bout a half a mile east.”

Dean nodded and Y/N squared her shoulders.

“And where’s the rest of them?” she asked, tone a little harsher than it needed to be as she glared at the old man.

Dean shot her a look but she didn’t flinch. Mary shifted uncomfortably between them, not wanting to get involved.

Bobby adjusted his cap and shrugged. “Gotta be close. They’re hunting us as sure as we’re hunting them.”

She sighed. “So which way do we go? I’d rather not run right into the pack.”

Dean cleared his throat and cocked a brow her way. She wasn’t going to let up and he knew it.

“Why don’t we split up,” he suggested, looking at Bobby and his mother. “You guys go south, we’ll keep heading west.”

Mary nodded. “OK. Just stay safe.” She smiled and Y/N half returned it.

Bobby huffed. “You two be careful and holler if you get in trouble.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and set off before Dean could spin around.

“Why are you such a bitch to him?” he asked, easily catching up to her with his long stride.

“You know why.” She swatted at a low hanging branch and groaned. “That’s not Bobby and it’s fucking creepy.”

Dean laughed at her. “It is Bobby-”

“Not my Bobby.”

He sighed. “You get used to it.”

“No thanks.”

Another howl, this time closer and followed by another.

Y/N stood still and tall, listening with her entire being. Dean came up behind her and she held a finger to her lips, ordering him to be silent.

The earth was damp. The fallen autumn leaves were too wet to make a sound, but she heard the squelch of mud as a creature ran through it. The being gained speed, and the wind picked up, chilling their faces as sure as the adrenaline prickled their skin.

She nodded towards his right and Dean raised his pistol, gripping it tight and following the line of sight into the dank woods. He squinted and a mess of black, matted fur moved behind the trees.

“Shit.”

Y/N flipped off the safety on her gun and steadied herself. She took a breath, gave him a wink and set off to the left.

He knew her well enough to understand the plan without conversing, and Dean moved off to the right. They’d wrap around in a circle and meet behind the beast, hopefully catching it off guard and raining silver down upon it.

It was a good plan. Solid. Proven.

Y/N moved swiftly through the trees, careful to tread lightly through the muck and avoid the fallen soldiers of the wood. The rain picked up and with the distance now between them, she lost sight of Dean, but she wasn’t too worried. They were professionals, after all.

Another few yards and the tree line gave way to a clearing. Y/N wondered for a moment if she’d gotten turned around in the forest, but her internal compass told her she was going the right way.

A wolf’s cry made her sure.

The grass was tall and free, untouched by blades or trampled by tires. She pushed through the weeds and a flash of memory struck her.

The sweet smell of spring; the tickle of grass against her cheek. Rusted metal and chrome gleaming in the sun. The smell of burgers burning on charcoal. Perfect green eyes.

Y/N shivered at the sensory overload and blinked into the clearing. She was taller than the grass now and so much older than her days in the junkyard.

She took a deep breath and heard her name.

From across the field, Dean emerged from the trees and shouted her name. He spun his hand in the air and she cocked her head, staring at him, confused but smiling. He was just as beautiful as the first time she’d seen him, though a bit more broken down and tired.

Again, he yelled for her, and the slow motion world around her cranked back up to full speed.

“Y/N!”

She heard it then- the horrid, hungry growl. She smelled the dirt, the wetness. Felt the fear as her body tensed.

Y/N turned and the wolf attacked. She pulled the trigger but it only made the beast more aggressive.

Powerful jaws clamped down on her defending arm; razor claws ripped through her flesh. The wet ground accepted her body as they fell, the mud curled up around her as the grass gave way.

Two shots rang out and the wolf was hit. It reared back and leapt over her, gunning for Dean.

Y/N flipped over in the mud and tried to get up to help him, but her arms gave out and she sank down, her face cradled by the soft grass.

One more blast from the gun and she heard the monster fall. Boots splashed through the mud and she felt Dean’s warmth as he fell to his knees beside her.

Big hands turned her carefully and Dean scanned her face. Her eyes were rolling, her lips curled into the sweetest smile.

“No. No. No.” His bottom lip trembled as he peeled back her jacket and saw the damage. Her chest was torn, her stomach ripped open and gushing blood. He pressed his hand into her middle and she cried out.

Pain spread through her at his touch and then subsided.

She grabbed at his arm, wrapping her fingers around the canvas sleeve.

“I… I’m sorry, Dean.”

Her voice was quaking as badly as his hand and he closed his eyes, shook his head.

“No.”

She smiled, laughed a little. “Yeah.”

Again, he shook his head, refusing to let her go. “No.” He sat up a bit, craned his neck over the tall grass. “Bobby! Somebody! Help!”

Weakly, she lifted a hand to his face and guided his gaze back down to her.

“Hey. It’s OK.”

He raged inside. Grit his teeth. “It’s not OK!”

Blood rushed beneath his hand like a dam had burst on a river. Her skin paled, her eyelids fluttered.

His heart raced, breath quickened. “Please don’t. Don’t leave. Please.”

Her shoulders twitched inward and the pain returned. She cringed but kept her smile, unwilling to go out like some terrified victim, some damsel in distress.

“Dean…” She pet his cheek, wiped away a hot tear.

“Please.”

“Do you remember when we met?”

He chewed his lip, closed his eyes, and took a breath.

“Yeah, Y/N/N. Of course I do.”

Her fingers tensed on his cheek. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. You still are.”

“Don’t say goodbye to me, Y/N/N. You can’t.” He turned his face and kissed her palm, grabbed her wrist with both bloody hands and kissed her fingertips, kissed her knuckles, kissed every inch. “You can’t leave me.”

With her free hand, she tugged at the chain around her neck and pulled the necklace free.

“Here. Take this back,” she whispered, hardly able to spare the breath to speak any longer.

Dean gasped and dropped her hand, ran his fingertips over the old lug nut pendant. “You… you still have this? After all this time?”

She laughed painfully. “Of course I do, you idiot. I never take it off.”

He closed a fist around it and shut his eyes, trying to erase the tears and be strong for her. It was all ending and he knew it. She had just moments left and he couldn’t let her go without letting her know the truth.

“It’s my good luck charm,” she said under a harsh breath. She coughed and the taste of iron flooded her mouth. She swallowed it down and held on.

“Didn’t do you much good today.”

She smiled and closed her hand around his.

“I’ve always loved you, ya know. You… you were always it for me, Dean. Always. I’ve… I’ve loved you since that first day by the stream. I’ve never not loved you. I just need you to know that.”

He shuddered, sucked in an uneasy breath. “I knew, Y/N/N,” he confessed. “I always knew. I… I love you, too. So fucking much.”

Her eyes lit up for a second and she shook her head sadly. The tears broke free and refused to leave.

“Then why? Why didn’t-”

She couldn’t finish the words, but he understood.

He pressed his hand lightly to her forehead and smiled. “Come on. I’ve told you a thousand times, Y/N/N. I don’t deserve someone like you.”

He leaned down, held her cheek, kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips.

Y/N closed her eyes, safe in his arms, and felt the sweet pull of sleep yank at her limbs.

“Shut up, Dean,” she whispered.

He laughed gently.

She smiled.

He would be OK.

Dean stared into the fire, watching through bloodshot eyes as the flames licked at her silhouette.

Her necklace gleamed in the pyre’s glow and he closed his fist around it, holding it tight. Despite the heat of the fire, the metal was cold against his palm.

She was really gone.

She’d been there almost his entire life, always at his side when he called, always there to stitch him back together. But now she was gone.

He’d watched a hundred bodies burn over the years, said goodbye to every friend he’d ever had, but this was too much. There was a piece of him gone, a wound had been carved out of his chest that would never heal.

So many things he should have told her, so many times he’d taken her for granted. Guilt pulled at him and grief chewed at his veins. So many years wasted. So many nights he could have been alone with her, happy and loved.

The blaze burned hot, the wood crackled.

Dean stared silently, drowning in his pain. Forever the man she loved. Still the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

The boy with the green eyes.

Tourniquet Tags: @prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303

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astralnymphh · 1 year

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𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕☽◯☾

𖤐ྀ࿐-ˊˎepilogue!ellie x afab!reader

WC: 5.8k+

designated song: red flags and long nights - she wants revenge 𖤐ྀ an: first fic i ever published so idk what im doing but im doing it! i kinda just farted out an idea and then it blossomed into a fic over the course of a couple days so hopefully it lives up to its full power cause i fr inhaled this thing 6+ hours a day and totally not with a thesaurus at hand im definitely a natural wordsmith (i like my sht detaileddd) pls lmk what you think cuz i will be writing more stuff cuz i am so done with character DAWT ai fr.

⋆࿔･ cw: NSFW 18+, MDNI! >> friends to lovers, takes place after tlou2 ending, detailed but tried to be as natural as possible, proofread enough, ellie loves to joke around, hella cursing, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), stimulation of nipples, lots of foreplay, petnames (babe, pretty girl), slight overstimulation. ✧༺♥༻∞ synopsis: you met ellie a week after she sent farewells to jackson and her farmhouse, locking away the love she embodied for dina and set forth a journey towards a fresh horizon. furthermore, you joined her on this trip after running into her in an abandoned hospital, which at first things weren't so friendly and rather condemned you to gun-point but regardless it resolved eventually. the original plans she had her mind latched on were demolished since you mentioned your living situation. you live in a community not bound to FEDRA or any other titled organizations, only an ankle-straining expedition away from wyoming. one of these nights weeks after you met, you're sunken into a makeshift bed in the cruel wilderness underneath the ivory moon, it's lunar lights absorbing into the exposed skin on your arms. moonbathing, essentially. ellie's present too, but if she engages in a chat, where might it lead you? ⊱ ───────────────── {.⋅ 𖤐 ⋅.} ──────────────── ⊰

𖤐ྀ࿐-ˊˎ

Mind oscillating on a path through notions not tended to at daylight, imagination running amok, fueling a creative craving that often returns at moonrise when most dangers, mostly most, are kept at bay and you at harbor and reeling you back into your delusions. Well, scenarios just happen to spark out of the void in your cranium, especially when there's a woody auburn head to your right. Ellie's back lined by the cut of her tank top is giving your eyes a warm greeting, a film of drying sweat cloaking the skin on her shoulders fortunately so the celestial body above reflects its light perfectly off it. Her back flexes slightly as her hands are occupied with the doodles and entries beckoning to go from head to paper. She wrote quite often on your trip, whether it be graffiti, a landmark, personal thoughts or just some notes contingent on the route and journey ahead. The faint noise of non-stop scribbling had your mind tilting towards the fact that it was probably some emotional dumping or intense art session, so you'd rather not bother her. You both had a tight and steadfast bond regardless if the initial meeting was at best a month ago. Why was it taking an age to reach home? If it wasn't for the fury of infected hordes on a fucking crusade through the country and bandits seeking trouble constantly, you'd be there.

Brushing all these thoughts off, you pushed your back into the cold tree trunk behind you, molding into the space between your shoulder blades nicely and tucking your knees up to your chest. You pulled a fine-tip Sharpie from your supply bag's netted pocket and just tugged the cap off immediately. The tip surged with a night black ink, seeping into the flesh of your knee as you scratched in a little art piece. Imagination caught you at the right time.

The noise of a book wafting closed perks your eyes over to Ellie spinning on her knee in a circle to face you. You glanced back and forth at your knee and her approaching you. Her hair illuminated a bronze auburn in the inferno of the campfire.

"Still not asleep?" Ellie questions in a low throaty tone, a voice that settles itself in your ears and invites a smile to your lips unintentionally.

You mused at her until she claimed a spot on the foliaged earth surrounding the brink of the tree you call your natural headboard, blinking your sights forward on your knees again and speaking, "Sleep is barely possible in this world," a remark that slips past the threshold of your lips often, "Dunno if you noticed, but I'm never asleep before sunrise." you add.

Ellie rebounds with a chuckle and raises her brows, "Good point," she tilts her head idly. "What's that on your knee?" She nudges the air with her chin, referring to the ink doodle gracing your knee.

"Oh, boredom." You reply vaguely with a smile, returning your sight onto her and observing her freckled face longingly.

Ellie sucks her lips inwards, running her tongue from one corner to the other while nodding ponderously. Her teeth pinned down her bottom lip, akin to poking a soft cushion and curling into a smirk. "Well," Her lips parted. "Got an extra pen?"

Her asking enticed a smile on your face, cheeks jerked up by a thread, "A-huh" You hum with your mouth ajar, fingers pursuing the bigger pocket of your bag to scrounge up another pen. Eventually, you slide another Sharpie out between your fingers, holding it like a blunt to Ellie.

She grasps it gently, biting the cap off and settles it between her pretty pink lips before blowing it off into the patch of grass.

"Uh, You better not lose that cap!" You reacted swiftly, furrowing your brows in a playful sourness.

She draws the air through her teeth, "Too late."

You purse and wiggle your own lips but eventually a smirk flexes back and replaces it.

Ellie merely synchronizes a smirk back prior to inching her face near your thigh, poking the pens tip on your plush skin. Her large palm conceals whatever the hell she's sketching.

Suddenly, the pen moves in a certain pattern and a hint illuminates in your head, "I swear if it's-" You are cut off by Ellie's hand moving to reveal just what it is and your assumptions redeem truth. "Boobs.." Your eyelids peel back, staring at a pair of cartoony breasts plastered on your skin.

"Whaaat? Not appreciative of my artwork?" She curved her words, embarking on a playful tone.

"That's kinda gay." You spat back, jabbing your index finger into the firmness of her bicep which made her balance waver sideways.

Ellie played along with an offended visage, "Uhh, I know you're not talking!" She indeed bites back.

"Uhh, well I am talking!" You counter and shimmy your tongue a bit and lodged it between your lips as you taunted her.

Ellie just laughs you off and immediately starts drawing again, learning your lesson you tug your thigh away from her usage. You jeer, "Nuh uh! You're gonna draw a dick or something!"

Her tone recedes and reduces down to a calm one, that familiarly husky one sweetening the space and thrumming into your eardrums, "I won't, I promise."

A quiet brow teeters on your skin, expressing your doubt but nonetheless you lend your thigh again as her canvas and slyly relax it against her leg.

Ellie smoothly returns pen in hand, her other hand snaking over your thigh and resting her three fingers on the squishy padding of your inner thigh. She honed in on this sketch, laser focused as the pen glides over your skin.

This rockets your fragile coolness into the forest of stars above and dilated blood blooming across your cheeks. Ellie may have appeared a tinge bit flirty this past week, but not this quickly did the aura embracing both of them turn so love infested. The pads of her fingertips were coarse yet melded with your skin warmly. The way your mind delved into thought from this plain touching electrified your heart, igniting something abdominal and a fluttering ache in your hips.

"And.. there." Ellie mumbles from her throat, voice a bit hoarse and stuffy. Her dominant hand retreats without the one clasping your thigh gently, twining it gently with pressure to reveal her sketch. It was a moth, unlike the ones etched into her journal time and time again. Details were revived in it and just looked so lovely on your bare thigh.

"Wow, another moth?" You tease her with a shoulder bump to which she reels back onto the scaly tree and smiles widely cheek to cheek fashioning those signature dimples to peek. You swore a color akin to red jasper trickled across her midface.

"Shut up.." Ellie sheepishly pushes her lips together in attempts to halt a smirk but her cheeks falter and perk up, a cute sight to you and humiliation to herself.

You patch up her embarrassment with an excuse, "It's nice, though. Like.. tattoo-worthy."

Ellie chuckles in response and relaxes her eyes onto your visage momentarily, darting a glimpse repetitively at her left hand that laid solemnly against the crevice of your thigh and hip. She stutters, "S-Shit, shit, sorry." a calm tone masked the nervous lump in her throat and she swiped her hand away.

You couldn't help but feel that tension in your neck mutually, clogging your chance of saying 'it's fine' so you simply descend your head and giggle behind closed lips.

Sweat coated her forehead thinly, invoking an attractive amber glow on it brought by the flame crackling in front of you.

Ellie's husky voice sauntered to your ears, "So, does that mean.. you'd get that tattooed?" She resumes the statement you added earlier.

You blow raspberries, "Yeah, not gonna lie. You're fuckin' talented." You firmly assure her.

Her eyes perk up and so do the corners of her lips, irises painted with a color akin to the wings of a lunar moth casting onto yours, noticing luminous rings of orange light wrapping her pupils.

At that moment, you wish you could just admit 'and you're really pretty' but your stomachs sunken in on itself, reeling your heart and throat along with it. The assumption that pouring your heart out might result in Ellie fleeing this trip, rotting your body with the pestilence of rejection and would be too poisonous to bear.

"Wish I could still play guitar right now," Ellie soothes the silence, craning her neck and hangs her head low huddled to her chest. "Y'know?" Her head oscillates to gaze at you.

"I would've loved to hear that." you reply, a comforting hand advancing to the back of Ellie's neck.

"One day- I wanna at least try singing."

"What's stopping you now?"

Ellie raises her palm upwards in defense, "There's no instrumental backing it though!" her voice raises in a falsetto.

"Guess the sounds of wind and fire sparking isn't ideal." You get her point, "Ey' I'll just.. beat this stick on a rock," a stray branch enlightens you. "Nature's drum."

"Tch-" Ellie spits air from her teeth. "You're silly."

"You're silly." You emphasize.

"Right, I am, wanna hear a joke?" Her body tosses onto her hip to face you, twisting one leg more open and the other bearing against the tree root lump under her.

"What's with the jokes this week, Ellie?" you reminisce on the flurry of puns Ellie just had the itch to entertain you with this week specifically.

"Okay fine then, I'll part with the jokes!"

"That's not what I meant, I just bear some curiosity." you plea your context. "You seem more open compared to our first week together. You swore you wouldn't trust a stranger."

Ellie huffed out a hefty lot of wind, "Umm…" She became fiddly and lingered her pause, "I just found.. comfort, in your presence." the aura clouded in her eyes shifts to a darker one, "You're literally the only person I can be with after months of fucking isolation, the one person that I haven't.." Her rambling stumbles into a halt.

Wind rustles the branches above and around you, only a faint noise filling the lack of words.

"You don't have to explain-"

"Hurt." Ellie concludes.

You explore her void expression, eyes duller than the seconds before delving into this conversation. She's been bottling shit within, clearly. "I understand," you nod, the hand you laid upon the warm skin of her back returning and caressing a circle. "Do you wanna talk about it?" you offer.

"Nah, uh- don't wanna spend my time.. remembering, right now." Ellie reverts to sitting on her bottom.

You respectfully let her words settle in open space for a moment before speaking, "Still wanna tell me that joke?"

Ellie lightens up instantly, dimples convex in her cheeks as a smile is puppeteered on her luscious pink lips and baring teeth. She swipes her tongue between them before indulging, "What's the downside to eating a clock?" Her cheeky smile remains.

"Mmm… what?" you hum curiously.

"It's time consuming."

You compressed your lips tightly, a rumbling chortle bubbling within your esophagus.

"Yeah, yeah- I'm hilarious." Ellie humbles herself in tone.

"Uhuh, totally." You forced some air through lips locked tighter than a top-secret chamber causing an intense vibrating buzz to rattle your skull.

"Don't lie, you love it." Ellie tilts her head, the auburn bang like a crest to the side of her face now hanging just where it tickled the apex of her nose.

Your right index finger, bearing a will of its own, swoops in to hook this bang behind the conch of her ear, tucking it away from her eyes with the pad of your fingertip.

Ellie pores her sight over the structure of your face, exposing you like an open book. The way her green rings enveloped you felt different, like she was contemplating a daring decision. Her eyes falter only once but capture contact again, such a gaze soft and charming is born upon her eyelids.

"Ellie?" you utter softly.

The subtle touch of Ellie's fingertips cradling your head were the only thing you registered before a pillowy flesh was aligned upon your lips, suckling at your supple bottom lip and challenging the balance of your neck with the way she smashed into you. Her hand advanced to your cheeks, cupping them tenderly yet palms pushing down with friction, lips smoothing over yours multiple times and reluctant to separate as they felt practically welded and magnetically attracted.

"Mmph.." Her peachy cheeks graced yours and passed along a radiating heat. Catharsis possessed the ebb and flow of passion bursting at the seams of your swelling heart and that same infernal ache of your pelvis siphoning off your hidden lust.

"Fuck," Ellie utters a curse below her breath, shambling away from your space only to be interrupted by your eager fingers clawing into her collar and jerking her closer.

"That wasn't a mistake." You assure her in a promising tone, a solace hand cusping the concave valley under her jaw and fingertips converging with the groove behind her earlobes.

Ellie's expression lush with turmoil slowly contorts into a smirk, nasal lines and dimples beautifully indenting around her wide smile. A husky mumble, "Should I stop?" thrumms into your ears. Her eyes scan you for an answer.

"No." your breath hitches.

Ellie's hand takes harbor on the small of your back, nudging you towards the tarp tent a few feet before you.

Your body senses the hint and takes you beneath this dense blue tarp where Ellie attempts to slumber, but now its intended purpose has fizzled away beneath this lust-drunk haze. Your back sinks into the foliaged bedding with a few flannel blankets splayed across it. Ellie scales above your body and casts a shadow of her own that cascades over you. Her fern green irises fixate on yours, embers of excitement caper within the midst of your midriff, plucking and tugging at your heartstrings.

Ellie's raspy voice slithers into your ears, "I thought you wouldn't want this." Her pupils dart around to every edge of your face nervously.

"But, I do." your hand is an assurance on her shoulder, but the calf ascending over her lower back and dangling off her butt implies an abysmal desire.

Her eyes examine the situation with your leg for a split second, "What're you doing?" She mutters amid a crescent smirk pursing her coral lips.

You glance away promptly for a wink, "I said-"

Ellie's lips hush yours and sever them apart, tongue tipping the threshold and beckoning for yours to surface.

You indulge in the lovers tango with your tongues, lips smacking together as the air is siphoned from you. She suckles and bites down hungrily as seconds trickle past, feeling her fingernails etch their stamp on the flesh of your mid-back. She is so fucking enamored with you.

"I fuckin' need you.." you breathily grunt into the enclosed space betwixt you both, searing foreheads melding together and nose tips drifting over one another.

Ellie's eyes twitched half-closed, midface boiling red, mouth ajar and spilling out hot air, "Shit.." she moaned, fingering the fly of her jeans and fiddling with the zinc alloy rivet.

"What are you rushing for?" you tease in a coo.

"Shhh-shut up." She hushes onto your cupid's bow, pecking it with a tiny smack prior to elevating her torso upwards.

You ogle her toned slender bod as she slips off the ribbed white tank dabbled in sweat and crimson splotches, chucking it mindlessly against the overhead tarp causing a loud crinkle to thunder.

You panic with a laugh, "Oh m'god- shh!" and clasp her wrists to steady her arms, "That was so loud! Don't attract the clickers!" you nag at Ellie playfully.

"I wasn't!" She pleads.

"If clickers come charging up here cause of your-"

"Guns' in here babe." Ellie replied hoarsely.

"Oh, I'm your babe now?" you fakely bumble, slyly lurking a keen hand to her stoutly toned abdomen, eyes just now comprehending the reality that she was bra-clad to her upper body, damp humidity sticking to her beaten skin so perfectly you sensed yourself melting at the existence of it like there's goo in your skull instead of a brain.

Ellie affirms low and honeyed, "Yeah, a hundred percent m'babe." Her face creases into a slanted brazen smile.

Heeding her affirmation, your fingers advance down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head leisurely and disclosing your skin openly for her. Your shyness had fractured and dissipated completely and was yearning for the mingling of her body with yours.

Ellie's jaw suspended slightly open and lip caving over her bottom teeth as she puffed a breathy chuckle. She was unarguably turned on by the notion of you bound by bareness.

"Fuck me." She utters breathless.

You regard her words before harshly hauling her torso back down, capturing your barren lips in a sloppy entanglement which only glosses over the true pleasure you ache for.

Ellie's hand detects that desire and traverses the map of your body before flattening on the destination of your inner-thigh just below the crevice of your crotch. She asks, "Can I?" softly against your neck, because consent is sexy.

"Mhm." You nod your head eagerly and straighten at the knees comfortably.

Her left hand pulls your fly back over the button, popping your jeans open with a smidge of panty fabric peeking already. Ellie teases the zippers tab with her fingernail and sluggishly separates the zippers teeth. She inclines back slightly to absorb the sight of both hands tucking into your jeans, rolling them down at a pace that tickles the microscopic hair on your thigh.

You wiggled your legs as she heaved them upwards, tugging your bunched up jeans bulking at your ankles, unintentionally your socks caught on and slipped off your toes.

"Don't toss them recklessly this time." you demand of her jokingly and chafe your thighs wantingly.

"Wasn't planning on it."

You watch her politely cast the fabrics aside, lunging carefully with both arms cradling your head as she swooped in to steal a quick kiss before dragging her lips across your chin, stranding a dozen pecks in her path until she craned over behind your ear and leaving a fresh trail of kisses along your neck.

Ellie's lips were defiant on departing anytime soon, she was pious to your body and had to worship it with the offering of lust. She only paused to carve a love-bite with her teeth and peppering up a dark mauve bruise.

"Did you just give me a hickey?"

"Uhuh~" her voice vibrates with a laugh. She perks up from your neck and gives you a once-over, "But that's not the only place I'll be sucking.."

You give her a baffled visual with brow lines furrowing until her thumb swipes repetitively over your clothed nipple and eliciting a voiceless moan from your strained throat.

"You're a freak, you're freaky." you jest.

"Maybe, but you love it."

"I do, I do.." you assure softly and smirk up at her, your hands soaring up to pull your bra over your head willingly.

"Well~" Ellie's pupils gawked at your bare breasts. "Excuse me madame!" She impersonates shock in a playful manner, but really, she was witnessing your chest in all present dimensions. Guess you could sum it up to her really liking your boobs.

"I didn't discard my bra for you to just ogle them." you point out.

"You're just needy." Her toothy smile appears while her slender fingers stream your sultry skin up to your chest, cupping the soft skin like a crescent moon and whispering, "But I like that."

"You like me."

"I do… I do." she repeated your phrase from earlier and crooked her pearly smile.

From here, her hair bore a radiance of honey color, the fires illumination outlining that handsome mullet you always deemed so attractive on her. Speckled skin that dotted her face and chest that appealed to you, a heavenly set of juniper eyes that read you like a poem. Every detail pertaining to her existence was the sole reason you felt attached to her like a magnet.

"Guess it's my turn?" Ellie's voice snapped you out of your lustful trance.

Mind fumbling, you furrow your brows and observe her hand movements. She crosses one arm over the other and tucks her fingers in the elastic band securing her bra, snaking it off her head to expose her chest.

"Ohh, and she plays fair?" You stifle a chuckle behind a spirited grin, curving your tone chromatically.

"What? Thought I'd leave you hanging?" She snorts in emphasis, an evidently immature joke about your boobs.

You release that chuckle, chest jittering as you force the air through a gritty laugh.

Ellie gives a satisfying once-over before ambling her face downwards towards your chest, etching a favored kiss into the plender gap of your neck, sewing a seam of nibbles and pecks along your sternum.

A rush of heat plasters your face, reddening your cheeks and undoubtedly lingering upon your spine. Wetness forms itself and drips beyond the crevice of your core and onto your panties.

"Mhh.. Ellie.." you purr barely past your lips.

She continues kissing the base of your sternum before her mouth takes a detour to your nipple, teasing a ring around it with the velvety skin of her lip. Her lips tenderly latch around the perky mound, suckling and lapping with her ticklish tongue.

You sample a whimper that entrances Ellie to intensify the ministrations upon your sensitive bud, and so she does, causing an extension of these whines to stumble from your throat.

"Need my fingers, pretty girl?" Ellie mumbles, hot breath soaking a humid film around the nipple her mouth played with and sloping her head sideways to gaze at you. Her tatted arm bends to place a gentle palm against your aching clothed slit.

Your clit stung of a fiery pleasure at the mere pressure her hand brought, jutting your pelvis against it unintentionally. You shudder, "N-Now.." and choke out, "yes…" wantingly.

Ellie obeys your word and tugs your panties down in a flash, gripping them tightly and pulling them off your legs without hesitation in sight. Her head partakes in burying itself in the crook of your neck, inscribing keen bites that narrowly distracted you from her two fingers rounding the perimeter of your slit, the perfect introduction.

You croak, "I've been thinking about this momen-"

"Shut up." Ellie hushes you verbally and with her fingers languidly pressing onto your clit, letting the sensitive bud wiggle between her fingertips and sparks a glimmer of pleasure through your pelvis.

"Fuck.." a subtle winded groan expels out of your very being.

Ellie's fingers began a circular motion, swirling the wetness around her fingertips and deliciously flexing her forearm slightly at each flick of her wrist.

You weave your fingers in her feathery auburn locks, poking your nose at the apex of her head that still positions itself at your neck as you gaze down to witness her handicraft, her literal handy-craft.

"I wonder.." Her voice inaudible, felt like a puff of air taunting your blazing skin as she guides her mouth back to your nipple, teething at it sensually to arouse you further beyond stability.

"Uhhnn.. fuckkk." You entangle the soundwaves stirring around you with your gratifying moan, inadvertently tensing your fluttery legs around Ellie's hips, to which she clasps your thigh with her unbound hand and pushes it down against the ticklish cloth.

"Stay open for me, hm- babe?" She asks in a honeyed manner, assuming you'll adhere to her words.

You open your legs further for her, absolutely enchanted by her being in control yet simultaneously so gentle with her words, only furthering the strikes of bliss corroding your senses when she quickens the roll of her digits, like she's fucking the literal sense out of you.

"Attagirl." Ellie's magnetic hum haunts your ears, dawdling in an echo inside your foggy brain. Her hasty touch lingers in tight circles against your clit for a diminutive moment until her willowy fingers cruise through your damp folds and dive into your sulking pussy, stretching you slightly and easily thanks to your wetness.

"Ohh my fuckin…" your elongated moan snags in your throat, choked up by the prompt filling of your core and spluttering of your speech, "god, Ellie.."

Without a hesitative hurdle in sight, Ellie idly pumps her fingers against your clenching walls, the slickness crowning around the base of her knuckles beautifully and enticing her ears to an arousing sound.

"Mhmm.." she vibrates against your neck prior to elevating her head to meet your puffy eyes, "S'wet for me, hmm?" her words slurred.

Your tongue couldn't articulate the words swimming through your sex-rot brain, the mere gauge of your opening was enough to hit right where you wanted and mist your brain up nicely.

The autumn bang dangling from her hairline tickled your forehead as she withers the space between your huddled faces, the tip of her nose wrinkling and bending as it pushes against your cheek as lips meet timely, fondling and smacking together in sloppy affection.

Ellie's fingers curve into you like a hook, searching for that delicate spot that'll render your faculties fried and abdomen throbbing for release. She prods it like a button, propelling numerous surges of ecstasy through your bottom.

A moan interrupts, "Just like tha- dn'stop.. dun.." you battle the knot in your throat and your pelvis, your entire body shuddering along with Ellie's aggressive pumping that rocked you.

"Don't worry babe, I'm not stopping." Her breath catches and quickens, beckoning that knot to snap in your core as her pace practically defies laws of motion.

"It feels… so-"

"I know, I know.." Ellie's voice buzzes in your ear.

Your walls tightened and convulsed around her, feeling every ridge of her fingers slip and slide inside of you.

"I'm c-cumm.." your voice altered into a strained, grit one, locking away your endless string of moans.

"Cum for me, babe, cum…" Ellie bit harshly on her lip in an attempt to contain the heaving of her breaths, bewitched by your state and keeping her forehead glued to yours.

Registering the green light Ellie gave you, your aching hips gave into the delightful knot and released a flurry of pleasure through your essence, igniting your skin and throbbing cunt. Your walls entrapped her digits inside, slowing her pace a bit as she didn't waver and carried on with her ministrations. Her fingers coated in that silky mess of you, dripping down your bottom from how much she had stuffed her fingers in and your pussy has brimmed past its limit.

"Good girl."

Ellie browsed your barren neck with her lenient kisses, the fingers inside you just now sliding out after a few moments of prolonged pleasure.

"Was I good?" Her husky voice crows out, curled smirk tickling the succulent flesh of your shoulder.

"So.. so.." your voice trickled through exhaustion, "fucking good." you chuckled.

Ellie syncs a laugh with you, shimmying away slowly from your body and licking her fingers clean of you, "Let me clean you up."

Your eyes condense on the tarp above you as Ellie slipped out of your linear sight, shuffling towards your pelvis that still ached from release. The stillness in the air is all your mind renders before you feel a shaggy presence between your legs, grasping the fact that her head has found a home between your thighs and the tip of her tongue swipes between your tumid folds.

"Ahh! El-elele..Ellie.." Your tongue sputters at the roof of your mouth, fingers grasping her dull tawny locks out of oversensitivity.

Ellie continues lapping hungrily at your soaked core, apex of her nose prodding at your clit lightly. Her arms wrap around your thighs and let her calloused hands dangle over them, leaving a delicious sight for you to see. Before you displayed the crown of her head nuzzled into your crotch, flushed skin and beads of sweat plummeting on her forehead. She suckled so gently on your clit a few times, strawberry lips smacking and puckering around the pampered bud like a lollipop.

"E-Ellie.." you giggled lightly, followed by a string of short whimpers.

She moved away from your heat, smirking. "There." she put firmly in a murmur, shutting your thighs and towering over your body, "You taste nice." she utters between a chuckle.

"Not sure if I needed to know that." you quip.

"Too bad." she replies and swoops in to present a kiss onto your lips.

Tension arises from this plain kiss and you push yourself onto your jello knees until you both are kneeling before each other.

"What're you doing babe?" Ellie's hoarse mumble traces your chin and entices a mischievous giggle from you.

Your fingers fumble with her halfway-open fly and inch the zipper of her jeans open. It peels open and allows your hand inside, lurking towards her clothed entrance.

"Oh, fuck.." Her eyes flicker in a blur, jaw left ajar, panting a humid veil onto your lips and inquiring, "You gonna do this?"

Her toughened hand glides across your upper arm, gripping your wrist loosely.

"I wanna do this, for you, babe." your saccharine tone sweetens her ears and excites her lower region in ways she never detected before.

"Well, I did say fuck me.." Ellie recalls her words from earlier, indulging a partly suppressed chuckle and beaming smile.

You both entwine lips whilst kneeling against each other's warm bodies, her hand pinning your chin between her thumb and index to angle your head perfectly for her. Your unoccupied hand slithers to the rim of her jeans and struggles to pull them down.

"Use both hands, dummy." she twits with a smug look.

"I didn't wanna move my other hand.." you reply with an eye roll, moving your hand out of her pants to remove them properly.

She shifts them off her ankles and resumes her focus onto you, sealing your lips once more with hers and slipping some playful tongue.

Your hand finds purchase on her stomach, plunging into her panties and flicking her clit with the tip of your finger to tempt her further.

"Oh God, don't tease me.." Ellie begs with a following whimper, circling her hips into your palm in dire lack of stimulation.

"I wasn't going to.." your words halt at an edge while your actions suture her desires, three fingers usher beyond her delicate folds and stuff her instantly.

"Fuck, babe.. fuhhck." Ellie groans out and feels her body falter, fumbling onto her butt and keeping herself at an angle with her elbows to the blanket.

You tucked your knees in and settled between her spread legs, hand still tucked into her panties which now peeled back slightly from the angle of your wrist. A sly thumb from your vacant hand brushes over her clit and rests there, drawing long circles whilst your idle fingers begin thrusting in and out.

Ellie's cheeks summon a rosy shade, those lovely eyes rotating to the back of her head in pure bliss as you pump your hand graciously.

"Your hand is ten times better than my own." she praises, dangling her head backwards to expose her neck just coaxing you to leave a love bite.

"Mhm?" you hum into her headspace before latching your mouth onto her warm neck, suckling like a vampire out for blood.

"Shit.. god damn.." Ellie heaved a hefty breath, embracing your body with her legs cloaking your hips.

You felt her claws dig into your back, infusing her lust with each grip and grinding her swollen pussy against your hand. Your fingers curl up and explore that spongy area she so desperately whined for.

"Nghh!" she pins her lip between her teeth harshly, face scrunching up in raw paradise and pleasure.

Your focal point is her g-spot, bouncing off of it practically faster than light itself. Her every expression was like an art piece to you, peppering it with sweet kisses regardless if your hands were sinister.

"Don't fuckin' stop, dont.. fuckin'.." she demands, letting her self loose in your hands.

Both your hands were coated with her stickiness, yielding it tricky to keep your fingers steady on her clit, but you managed, rushing her towards an explosive climax steadily approaching.

Soon enough, Ellie's jaw unhinged and released a mountain of moans, body shuddering vigorously as her orgasm lit an inferno of stimulation in her core. She clutched her chest close to yours as she rode this out and pulled you down with her. Her voice shatters the barrier of your ears, even surprising you a bit.

"How was that?" you ask sweetly, searching for clarity.

"I hope nobody heard that.." she jests, gazing up at you with weary eyes.

"I really heard that."

"Shh!" she jabs your bicep with a balled fist, embarrassed at your smart-assed-ness and flaring her nostrils.

You smack her arm back immaturely causing her to capture you in a tight bear hug, rolling around in the disheveled blankets as she tackled you with numerous kisses across your face and neck.

"I love you." she declares earnestly, finally wishing to hear you assert your feelings too.

Not a speck of doubt haunts your mind, "I love you too."

Ellie adorns a grin wider than any before, creasing her skin and denting those adorable cheeky dimples that made you fall head over heels for that smile. Her arm extends to cusp your face, admiring every blemish that painted your skin, even the ones you didn't like.

Your eyes brimmed with tears like a cup as you yawned, announcing your acute fatigue loudly.

"Oof, your breath." Ellie mimes a face of disgust, waving her hand in front of her nose.

"So not funny." you roll your eyes sarcastically and tumble out of the cuddle, sitting upright to grab your panties and other garments.

"Wait," Ellie shoots upright as well, bracing her palm around your wrist, "you'll sleep with me, right, babe?" She deciphers your reaction for confirmation.

Your solace hand assures her, "Yes, I just don't want to freeze to death by morning time."

"Well then, don't leave me waiting." She wriggled her roguish brows seductively at you and huddled over your shoulder, gaining a frisky shove from you so you could get dressed for goodness sake.

Ellie eyeballs you sliding your undergarments on, tracing every curve and roll of your captivating body, enthralling her completely in your mere existence and cleansing her very being.

"I know you're staring."

"I know that you know that I'm staring." she plays it off.

You stick your tongue out as you crawl into her barren arms, whooshing a shrouded blanket over your conjoined bodies. "So much better.." you sigh.

"Are my arms not enough for you?" Ellie's voice strolls to your dulling ears, dwindling inside your twilight sealed mind as your eyes flutter tiredly.

"Shut up." 𖤐ྀ࿐-ˊˎ

#ellie williams fic #ellie williams x fem!reader #tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #epilogue!ellie #farm!ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams oneshot

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thesmokingguns · 8 months

Text

Glazed donuts w/ Izzy Stradlins

MINORS DNI 18+ Contains sexual content

Izzy walked into the cafe, his arm wrapping around the brunette's waist, pulling her back away from the counter she was wiping down and banding her back to his chest with his arm slung over her waist.

“Hello Aya darling.” His kiss landed on her tenor before securing both arms in a hug around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she rolled her eyes at the affectionate man.

“Working, Iz.” She tried to spin away from him but he made a tsk sound, guiding them back towards the kitchen when Sasha was taking out her latest batch of cupcakes.

As soon as she saw the enter she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“You’re lucky this batch needs to cool. Don’t fuck on the counters I bake on, please? I don’t need any help making the glaze for my desserts” The door swung shut behind her and Izzy turned his girl so he could look at her.

The way he smirked, like a cat that just got the cream made Aya shake her head.

“You heard her. No sex in the kitchen.” Izzy’s dramatic sigh at Aya’s words had the corners of her lips turning up, his hand in hers as he pulled her through another door to the back alleyway.

“Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you out here then.” Her front was pressed against the brick wall as he let his big hands slide up her thighs, dragging the retro uniform the girls had picked out for their bakery with them.

They had opened the bakery three months ago in Izzy’s hometown. After he had parted with Guns N Roses he needed a bit of a break to recoup from the loss of a band and having to change his dreams at a point in his life he though he was supposed to be living them.

Luckily his girl had agreed to go and her loyal best friend had made the trek back to Lafayette where they opened up their coffee shop bakery. Aya made the coffee and ran the books while in the back Sasha cooked up all sorts of treats to serve.

They were already making more money than they expected, the location popular on weekends and early mornings for people in town. They created an atmosphere that thrived and Izzy loved seeing his girl happy and finding her home in a place he loved.

He wanted her always to be at home with him.

His mouth was on her neck, long kisses and sucks as she whimpered, pressing her ass back and towards where the guitarist was.

“We could go home. It’s just down the street.” she muttered as his lips finally met hers. His hand sliding into the lace of his panties. His middle finger tapped at her clit, circling it as her juices leaked along her seam.

“You say this like I can wait.” He nipped at her lips, “I’m starved for you, Aya darling.” As if to prove his point to his give he dropped to his knees, his face buried between her legs.

Izzy’s tongue licked over the lace of her panties, pressing the thin material into her wet heat as he tasted her cream through the barrier. With A growl, needing more, Izzy hooked a finger, dragging the fabric to the side as his nose bumped her slit, his tongue circling her opening as he groaned, wishing it was his cock.

Aya groaned, her back arching, thighs parting to give her man more room to feast on her. She loved him most when he was on his knees worshiping her.

Two thick fingers pressed inside of her, her lips parting as she moaned his name. Her knees already shaking as he twisted his fingers, the knuckles drenched with her as he rubbed in a come hither motion, pulled them in and out and prepared her to take him.

“I could touch you all day and I still don't think it would be enough.” He muttered, laying a kiss on the back of her thigh as he started standing.

His lips kissed the roundness of her ass, a possessive impulse had his teeth sinking into it, watching the way his teeth marked her.

Mine. His thumb ran over the indents as he soothe it, fingers still working in and out of her body.

“You ready to take me, darling? Do you want to feel me inside of you now?” His hand slid to his jeans, working his belt off and zipper open.

His eyes on her body was he stroked himself and slid his fingers from her using her cum as lube.

“Just fuck me.” She moaned as his tip slid up and down her seam, spreading her juices around as he made a mess of her. “Fuck, Iz, Please. I need your cock.” He growled, satisfied with her answer now as he pressed forward inside of her

His cock bottomed out as he thrust deep, his balls slapping her clit as Aya let out a sound, her scream and moan sounding like a chant to Izzy.

“Fuck, that’s my girl. Your pussy is suffocating me. Fuck, I love when you squeeze me like that.” His praise as he fucked her, telling her how good she was taking him had Aya’s eyes rolling back, her body shifting so Izzy was hodling her wight as he drolled inside of her. “Give it to me. I want your orgasm, Aya darling. Gonna make my pussy cum so hard you won’t be able to walk back inside. I’m going to stuff you with my cum and have you work the rest of your shift filled with me. Do you want that? Do you want all my cum?” He growled in her ear as the wet slaps of them fucking filled the alley.

“Yes, I want it. Want you to fill me.” Izzy’s hand slid over her clit, two fingers rubbing her as she bucked forward. The explosion of her orgasm had him having to hold her, fucking her as he chased his pleasure with her.

One last thrust and his balls tightened, the surge as he filled her, pumping as the mix of their cum slid out, leaking over both of them and staining them with mixed pleasure.

“You took me so well, aya darling. So fucking well, sweetheart.” He tucked himself back in his pants moving to slide her panties back up. His tongue lapping up their cum as it leaked down her thighs, kissing her lace covered pussy when she was all covered up.

Aya’s legs shook as he slid the uniform back down, slapping her ass and getting a glare from her.

“I still have to be here for an hour.” She warned as they moved back inside. Izzy shrugged, sitting on one of the counter stools.

“For you, I’ll wait forever.”

#Izzy Stradlin #izzy stradlin fan fic #izzy stradlin fan fiction #izzy stradlin fanfic #guns n roses #izzy stradlin fanfiction #izzy stradlin guns n roses #Izzy Stradlin imagining #Izzy Stradlin GNR #gnr fanfiction

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siilvan · 1 year

Note

Could you please write a platonic fic with reader and Nikolai? Maybe with a little bit of peril involved so they are both worried for each other?

crash site

characters: nikolai

summary: after your pilot crashes in the middle of a war zone while trying to extract you, a reverse rescue mission ensues.

genre: general, gn!reader (bravo 0-5; no desc.)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, mild descriptions of injuries, inaccurate medical care, nik and reader get hurt, mutual worrying, i wrote this w/ a migraine i’m sorry

word count: 3.2k

note: anon i hope you know i love you for requesting something that i already sorta wanted to write

also so sorry this took so long, i hope you enjoy <3

you instinctively raise your gun when a bullet flies past and pierces the half-destroyed concrete wall just in front of you. various shouts in a language you can’t understand soon follow, and your heart races as you spin around to confront the enemy.

the mission was supposed to be simple. get into the city, take out the target, and get out without being compromised.

the first two objectives went without any trouble, but your escape was compromised the second the target’s body hit the ground. that’s how you ended up in this situation - with a single magazine in your gun, a city of armed men pursuing you, and no signs of backup in sight.

not to mention the approaching sandstorm, you mentally add to the list, blinking back tears as rough grains of sand whip around and obscure your vision.

you manage to take out the group actively giving chase, which then leads to your next problem: you’ve completely run out of ammo. even your sidearm was emptied as you fought through the small militia, and you lament the speech that price is going to give you about "being prepared" once you make it out.

vaulting over the short wall brings you to a city square. you crouch low near a stack of crates and building supplies, hoping that the chaos of the situation and the sandstorm would mask your presence to the various search parties nearby. you scan the area for any weapons while moving undercover; the last thing you need is to be caught without a way to defend yourself.

if you had a nickel for every time things did not go to plan today, you’d be rich enough to retire. a yell and a bullet landing near your feet signaled that, despite your best efforts, one of the parties spotted you.

you rise to your feet and lift your hands, praying that a surrender would buy you some time. the square fills up, and soon you’re stuck in place as several dozen guns are pointed right at you. there was no way you’d be getting out of this, even if you did miraculously find a weapon during your brief search.

the apparent leader of the group steps toward you, repeating some command - or, perhaps a question, you couldn’t tell - while the others slowly form a half-circle around you. several of the soldiers look antsy, hands twitching as they adjust their grips and rest their fingers against the trigger, like they were just waiting for an excuse to open fire. your stomach churns at the thought of someone getting a little too anxious.

your radio suddenly crackles to life for the first time since you confirmed the target’s death. at the same moment, a distant silhouette in the sky catches your eye. you focus on it and squint, trying to make it out through the ever-increasing cloud of sand, before a familiar voice catches your attention.

"0-5, get down!"

before you can even register who the voice belongs to, you follow the order and drop to your knees. the sound of heavy gunfire surrounds you immediately after, forcing you to lift your hands in an attempt to protect your head as every other person in the city square was gunned down. you bite back a panicked noise when the men closest to you are dispatched, worrying that whomever was in control would accidentally hit you, as well.

when the dust settles, both literally and figuratively, you cautiously lower your hands and lift your head again, scanning the area once more.

as expected, every soldier around you laid dead. some laid on their stomachs due to the unexpected ambush, others were on their backs after attempting to confront the source. your eyes flicked back to the sky, towards the silhouette you had seen before.

even through the sand and dust, you could make out the all-too familiar helicopter hovering near your position. it was a little unsteady, clearly a victim of the intense wind and debris in the air, but you grinned at the sight nonetheless.

"ace shots, nikolai." you let out a relieved laugh after reaching for your radio. "i’m surprised you can fly in these conditions."

"not for long, so let’s make this quick," he says, and you watch as the chopper attempts to land on one of the nearby roofs. "the storm will be here any minute. seems like i got here just in time, no?" he adds with a smug chuckle.

"i’ll be sure to send a thank-you card after this!" you huff and rush to the building he was landing on. for the first time today, things seem to be going according to plan; a ladder inside leads directly to the roof, which you quickly ascend with renewed vigor, and wait impatiently for the chopper to touch down.

you aren’t sure why, but a wave of cold dread washes over you once you reach the rooftop. your attention shifts from your escape to the nearby buildings and streets as you give your surroundings a once-over. surely it’s just adrenaline, you tell yourself.

you spot a figure in the window of a house just a block away. they’re kneeling behind the edge, eyes trained in your direction, pointing something directly at the building you were standing on top of. you stare at the mysterious object in their hands, until they carefully shift their aim a little higher. directly at nikolai, you realize just a second too late.

"watch out–!" you frantically shout into your radio. even if the weapon, which you now recognize as an RPG, hits the building and damages it, your chances of survival were far superior to nikolai’s own.

before your warning can reach him, however, a rocket is fired at the helicopter. you can only watch helplessly as it connects with the tail and sends the vehicle spiraling out of control. despite the damage, nikolai manages to maneuver it upwards while attempting to regain control. a second rocket is fired shortly after and hits the engine, stripping the pilot of any control as the vehicle practically falls from the sky. it crashes into the ground a decent distance away, and your stomach drops at the scene.

you scale the side of the building at breakneck speed and start towards the crash site, completely ignoring the eminent threat at your back as you pray for his safety. you didn’t care about empty guns, failed escapes, or compromised assassinations - you’d take a hundred of each before losing any of your teammates.

you’re swiftly given a cold reminder of your situation during your mad dash to nikolai. you duck into an alley and press your back against the wall as a team rushes down the street, no doubt heading to the same place as you. with a deep inhale, irritating your throat as sand and dust contaminates the air, you push off and follow their path.

come on, nik… you mentally beg the man. this is no way for you to die.

the combat knife tucked in your vest, your last line of defense, finds its home in the neck of one of the soldiers when you attack him from behind. you grab his rifle and dispatch the nearby soldiers, silently thanking the sandstorm for finally hitting the city in full force. it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, but such was the same for the enemy.

"0-5… can you hear me?" a strained voice comes through your radio and just barely cuts through the raging storm. nikolai. thank god.

"i hear you– nik, what’s your status?"

a pained grunt and the sound of creaking metal answers your question. "i don’t think we will be flying out of here–" he cuts himself off with a sharp hiss. "i’m not sure i can even stand."

"i’ll get us out of here," you tuck yourself into the shadows again as a patrol passes by, the lights on their guns permeating through the dust cloud and highlighting their position. "just stay put for now. get to cover if you can, i’m on my way."

"the enemy will have me surrounded within minutes, 0-5. you cannot fight a militia alone."

you click your tongue and shake your head from side to side, as if he could see you. "i’m not leaving you, nikolai. i’ll sooner drag you out by my teeth than abandon you." a stiff laugh and a muttered comment about your "stubbornness" was his only response.

the group that previously passed you was now stopped in an intersection, exchanging words with another small party. you squint at them and manage to count eight in total. difficult, but manageable. you had the benefits of stealth and surprise on your side, at the very least.

with a slow inhale and exhale, you open fire on the group. you take out two of them before the others start their search, frantically pointing their guns in every direction. once again, the lights gave away their positions; your rifle didn’t have a flashlight, allowing you to stay concealed as you picked the remaining members off one by one.

you reach for your radio again after you confirm the kills. "still doing okay?" you ask, continuing towards his location.

a second passes before you get a reply. "i am still alive, at the very least," nikolai grunts softly, and you recognize the sound of not-so-distant voices through his radio. "they haven’t found me yet. too worried about you to conduct a proper search, i assume."

"hopefully i can reach you, then. it’ll be difficult, but it’s not impossible to slip by." you notice the crash site after rounding a corner and running a few more blocks. it was yet another area that resembled a plaza, with several soldiers dotting both the inside and the outskirts.

"be careful." he speaks slowly, and you push down the worry that stems from his tone. instead, you try to reassure him. "always am, nik. just try to keep your blood in until we get out of here."

you approach the entrance and quietly dispatch the trio standing in your way. judging by the sounds of panic that followed, the gunshots weren’t entirely drowned out by the winds. that’s fine, you inwardly boast. even if they investigate the noise, they’ll come up empty-handed; you move on before the alarm is even raised. weaving through their sights is easy enough, thanks to the soldiers’ scattered and uncoordinated paths. nonetheless, you take out as many as you safely can.

before long, you come across debris from the crash, and you follow it until the main body of the helicopter is visible. you physically cringe at its ruined state until a whisper-shout of your name from somewhere nearby catches your attention. doing your best to follow it, you shove some metal scraps - hot to the touch, even through your gloves - out of the way.

you have to choke back a relieved sigh when you finally locate nikolai, leaning against more of the wreckage while clutching his side.

"never been so happy to see you," you chuckle and reach for his free hand. with a soft grunt of effort, you pull him to his feet and guide him to rest his weight against you. "i’ve got you, just lean on me."

"we need to hurry…"

nikolai’s words are brushed off by your gentle shushing as you make for an exit - easier said than done with the state he’s in. "i know, i know… we’re almost there, just need to get out in one piece."

"you don’t understand–"

his warning is cut off by bullets whizzing past your legs. you regret brushing him off as your adrenaline is sent into overdrive, and you practically carry him out of the plaza. you search for cover before your eyes settle on a small house with boarded windows; inconspicuous, but you really don’t want to back yourself into a corner.

an acute pain in your shoulder makes you reconsider the latter concern. you stumble forward, tightening your grip on nikolai as he nearly collapses from the sudden movement, and resign to your fate.

your lungs are burning by the time you reach the building. you shove the door open and haul the both of you inside before kicking it shut again. cautiously, you scan the interior, fingers twitching as you prepare to grab the rifle slung over your shoulder. the house was meager, you realize; a small sitting area bordered an even smaller dining room, with a modest kitchen that was surely emptied a long time ago.

you stagger to the torn-up sofa in the sitting area and maneuver nikolai to lay on his back, apologizing under your breath at every pained noise that left his lips. the rifle is leaned against the wall as you shove a tall wooden shelf across the room to block the front door, creating a decent barricade.

well, "decent" was a generous description. it would buy you a precious few seconds, at most.

the sharp pain in your shoulder bleeds into an agonizing throb from the effort, and you desperately try to shake off the feeling. your minor injury didn’t matter right now.

"we don’t have much time," you say while shifting your focus back to nikolai. "i’ll patch you up as much as i can. no point in escaping if you bleed out, yeah?" you add with a forced chuckle, trying to ease the both of you. the only interior doors lead to a bedroom and bathroom, and you search both for any supplies.

following the apparent theme of this mission, the only useful items you find are fabric, some foam, and a basic first-aid kit. the kitchen and dining room are equally as frugal, with a half-emtpy bottle of alcohol and a pair of small metal rods as your only rewards.

"you’re not a medic," nikolai says, staring at you from the corner of his eye while you gather the supplies on a nearby table. you huff and begin looking over his injuries. "it’s me, or a grave. pick your poison." you briefly meet his gaze and smile. he concedes and remains silent as you continue the examination.

considering what he had been through so far, his injuries were surprisingly minor. the worst of it was a laceration on his forearm and a fracture below his knee. there was also the bruised and broken ribs, but you couldn’t do anything about those. the smaller cuts just needed to be disinfected and bandaged, depending on the severity - all things that you were perfectly capable of doing.

despite the bad luck, you managed to gather just enough to make a splint for his leg. a shitty splint, but it’s better than nothing.

you start with the fracture, doing what you can to stop the bleeding and disinfect the wound. he hisses in pain when you try to move his leg to apply the padding, and you mumble another apology. the rest of the process goes as smoothly as it can, given the circumstances. you manage to make the splint and wrap his lower leg with the cloth you found, securing it in place.

after checking the splint, you move on to his arm. the first-aid supplies included a suture kit that you were already loathing having to use. your hands shake as you prepare it and clean the wound, taking a deep breath and internally recoiling at the scent of blood.

the stitching is about as torturous as you expected, for nikolai more than yourself. he is remarkably calm, though the occasional grunt or groan still escapes his tightly pressed lips. you finish the procedure as quickly as possible for his sake, tying the thread off and cleaning the area again before wrapping it in the leftover bits of cloth.

"it’s not much, but it’ll suffice for now." you send him another smile. he breathes deeply and nods his head, inspecting your work.

"you are a better medic than i thought," he confesses and nods again. "i’ll definitely put in a good word with the captain." he chuckles softly. his gaze shifts to you, and you’re reminded of your own injury.

before he can say anything, you stand up and grab your gun from its spot. "i’ll be fine. we’ve already spent too much time here, anyway." you sling it over your uninjured shoulder and head to the wall opposite of the front door. the planks boarding the windows were weather-damaged and easy enough to pull off. you detach one and peek through the gap.

the street was quiet, thankfully. the soldiers must have lost track of you after you ducked into the house - at least, that’s what you hoped for. further down the street, you spot a car. your escape.

"see anything?" nikolai asks. you turn back and hum affirmatively.

"there’s a car down the road. if it has fuel, we can drive out of here."

"the militia won’t follow us outside of the city."

you nod towards him. "exactly. i’ll head over and check it out."

nikolai jolts upwards, before grunting and clutching one of his various injuries. "you’re not heading out there alone. the enemy could easily ambush and overwhelm you like they did before."

"it’ll be far faster for me to look at it alone," you argue while pulling the other planks off the window frame. "you can’t walk on your own, let alone fight, nik. this is our only option."

you swing one leg over the edge of the window and shoot a glance towards him. "i promise i won’t be gone for long."

the storm immediately takes you off-guard again, and you clutch your weapon close as you jog towards the car. it was an all-terrain vehicle, left behind by one of the militia groups. you check the fuel gauge and sigh a breath of satisfaction at the half-full tank of gas. best of all, the keys were left in the ignition.

must’ve abandoned it during one of the skirmishes, you think. those weren’t so unlucky, after all.

you head back to the house and find nikolai trying to lift himself from the sofa. "so impatient," you comment, pulling his arm over your shoulders and offering yourself as a support once more. "seems like the car is going to work. just a little further, nik."

he mutters something in russian that you assume is positive, based on his relieved tone, as the two of you head for the exit. both of you stumble towards the car together, fighting against the storm and your own exhaustion that is slowly but surely creeping in, ignoring the painful ache that plagues you from head to toe.

you get nikolai settled in the passenger’s seat before circling the hood and turning the keys in the ignition. the vehicle sparks to life, and every horrible twist and turn is all but forgotten as you speed down the street. the edge of the city isn’t terribly far from your current location, you can make it.

"it’s funny," you say, barely audible over the turbulent winds. "usually you are the one driving and saving our asses, but now the roles are reversed."

nikolai shakes his head. "one save does not make up for a hundred, 0-5. you still owe me." he replies with a self-satisfied grin, earning a frustrated curse from you as you cross the city border.

sure enough, the captain had his speech prepared before you even left the medical bay.

#call of duty #cod #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai #sylph.writes

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ohlookapan · 4 months

Text

The Edge of The Knife | Wintersberg

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.” Pairing: Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil: Village (2021)) Content Warning(s): Knives(?) Tagging: My lovely proofreaders, @thatsthewrongwallcraig & @dandeliongrahamlecter! A/N: Playing around with action/movement over dialogue. Definitely not an excuse to write for these beautiful dumbasses again. Enjoy below the cut!

****

If Heisenberg thought Ethan was pissed before, he was livid now.

And the bastard fucking loved it.

Those soft, fair, snowy cheeks burning like hot coals; that golden hair all messy and ruffled like a hay bale; those hazel eyes smoldering like embers (he swore they turned red at some point, though maybe he was getting ahead of himself).

And those lips. God, those thin, soft lips. Karl swore they'd be the death of him–the way they slimmed, pursed, and fired the most incendiary threats at him like a catapult.

God damn those lips. God damn those eyes. God damn that hair. God damn those cheeks.

God damn Ethan Winters.

“Give me the flask, Heisenberg. Now.”

Ethan's command wasn't just that, not even a demand. It was a warning. One that Karl was far too bored and smart to heed.

Like a shark, he circled the father, letting his murky eyes traipse around his figure like a map, the object of his revolution being the most beautiful, bold, blonde X he'd ever seen.

“Now, now, Winters,” Heisenberg purred, tone loose and drenched in sweet velvet. “Is that any way to go about asking for things we want?”

A purr was met with a growl. No, a snarl.

“I'm not asking, jackass.”

The lord hummed, coming to a stop right in front of Ethan. His cool eyes became freezing, piercing daggers.

“Tsk, tsk. You speak to your mother with that dirty little mouth, Ethan? Maybe I should teach you some manners, hm? Put you in your place.”

If you looked at the two men, you couldn't tell which was the predator, and which was the prey. Especially when both seemed to lunge at each other.

Barely, just barely, Ethan's feet moved first. He bolted toward Heisenberg, a hand out in the direction of his pocket that cradled the final piece of his daughter.

Heisenberg almost wanted to hate him for making this so easy, but the electricity he felt shooting up his arm when his gloved hand gripped his wrist was like a drug.

In a flash, before throwing him up against the wall, Karl swore that he could feel remnants of stitches or… Staples against the man's wrist.

Christ, this kid's more like Frankenstein than me. He's more versatile than I thought.

Heisenberg turned Ethan into a whip, spinning and sending him around and up against the wall with a crack (and yelp) to match.

In all that time in keeping tabs on Papa Winters as he stormed across the village, a thundering shotgun in hand, he'd heard Ethan's pained whimpers more than enough times. He knew that the more painful something was, the more grit Ethan's whining was gripped with.

The one he heard this time nearly put him on his knees.

Note to self. The kid can handle rough.

Ethan's calloused fingers wrapped around the grip of his gun and his muscles had begun their recoil to tug it free from the holster just as Heisenberg rushed him.

A leather hand slammed against the wall while the other darted to the other man's belt and ripped the tucked-away knife free. It made a beeline to his neck, the edge of the blade just dancing along the slim hairs.

“A word of advice buttercup,” Heisenberg murmured, breath rising and falling like waves against those cherry-tinted cheeks of Ethan's, a husky chuckle on its heels. “Try using knives next time. Better for close encounters, wouldn't you say?”

The blonde's chest rose and fell, barely pressing flush against the other's as it lifted. Frantic, he forced his body still like spotted, target prey; yet those eyes of his were another story entirely. They darted all over Karl's face as if trying to memorize every wrinkle, every line, every scar--God, were there a lot of scars. The patriarch's eyes trailed along each of them as if they were a road map. One that all led back to one place: Karl's eyes.

Even as they hid behind the vaguely opaque discs of his shades, Ethan could make them out, clear as day.

He knew Heisenberg well enough–probably too well for his liking–to know just how much he was holding under his tongue. He could only imagine all the things he wanted to say to him. Though, it should be noted that just because he could didn't mean he should–and certainly not that he would.

In those eyes of his, Ethan could see how unwavering they were, and how they effortlessly they chased after his own. He could see the centers of them slowly expand, almost as if they wanted to suck the blonde in and never let him go.

Almost challenging the metal lord (or maybe as a means of getting away), Ethan tilted his head up to meet the cold, cracked wall; leaving that smooth, pallid neck of his exposed to the edge of the knife.

“You won't,” he breathed, the air between his and Heisenberg’s face feverish and volatile. “You need me.”

Damn right he fucking did.

A wolfish grin flickered on Karl's face, and the weapon's blade went from teasing to kissing the skin on the pinned man's throat.

“You'd like to see me try, wouldn't you, peach?”

“Dying to.”

Fuck, the growl he heard. It almost matched the grin he couldn't rip away.

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.”

Heisenberg could take that knife he was holding and slice the tension between them like bread. It only thickened and electrified as the seconds ticked by, and as their eyes dashed around in a game of tag.

Finally, the kid spoke up. His voice, to Heisenberg’s surprise, was weak. It was shaky, coated in air and coarse moxie.

“You don't scare me. You know that right?”

Heisenberg’s eyes flashed in surprise, only to melt into a sly, heated glare. His mouth shaped into a smirk. The voice that left it was nothing more than a humming rumble. So much so that Ethan could feel it against his chest, tangled with their heartbeats.

“Ethan, Ethan, Ethan," he tutted. "Is that your way of telling me to try harder?”

Heisenberg expected many things from the man he'd pinned to the wall; A punch, a bullet to the chest, to spit in his face and throw a harsh 'fuck off and die' in tow.

What he didn't expect was for him to lean in. He didn't expect to be met with a grimace, or to feel the very edges of his golden hair teasing his forehead, or even to see Ethan's hazel eyes dilating to match his own, fighting for total control.

He didn't expect to see his lips pulled closer to him, aching to bridge a gap. Karl Heisenberg didn't expect to feel his cheeks match Ethan's and their heavy dusting of rouge.

He sure as hell didn't expect what he'd said to be the last thing he heard before pouncing on the father with dizzying need.

“Go on. Let's see what you're really made of, Karl Heisenberg.”

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soaringeag1e · 11 months

Text

Escape {67}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats, Guns, Blood, Injuries, Lots of Angst

Words: 3,578

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

First of all, sorry this is so late. Second, I'm missing a few chapters on the Escape Masterlist, but if you're behind more than those few, you should be able to find them on my page if you scroll down. There shouldn't be much in the way of finding them.

Enjoy guys! Happy Saturday!

Squad cars surrounded the house. Flashing lights just spinning in circles and lighting up the neighborhood while officers searched Cassidy’s residents. Bobby was out front with a team, looking over a map and trying to think of where they should look next.

They went through evidence and any clues that they could come up with that might help find where he was hiding, but they continued to come up with nothing.

There was one lead that they had a team looking into, but they haven’t heard back from that unit yet. Bobby had sent a few officers out to the house that Paul and, to whom they know now as Cassidy kept their victims and he was anxiously waiting to hear from them.

“I can’t get a hold of Dean.” Styles stressed, hanging up the phone for what felt like the hundredth time. “I texted Sam to see if he could go check on them, but…” When Styles sighs, Bobby looks up. “I don’t have a good feeling, Bobby.”

“Me neither.” Hoping that he would already have an answer, Styles looks down at his phone, but of course there’s nothing yet. “Alright, let's see what we can do.” As Bobby crosses off a few spots on the map, his radio goes off, getting the attention of every officer standing by.

“Captain?”

“I’m here. What do you got?”

“Well, the house is empty. Doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a while. But, we got a call from someone claiming they heard gunshots not too far up the road from here, so we’re going to go check it out.”

“Gunshots? What direction?” Frantic, Bobby looks over the map to find where the house was located.

“Just a few miles East.” Bobby slides his finger along the road, looking to see if anything shows up on the map that could look like something.

“It looks like it’s all farmland. But there might be a residence up that way. Check it out, watch your backs.”

“You got it” By the time the team clicked off, Bobby looked up to see that Styles was looking at his phone again, his thumb clicking on the screen every now and again.

“I don’t think you’ll hear back from Sam for at least another fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Looking confused, Bobby listens to his detective. “I’m looking into the land up that way. We know that serials not only like to take trophies, but they also like to feel safe. Comfortable.”

“Right.” Bobby agrees, still a little confused.

“I’m trying to see if there’s anything up that way that could be connected to Cassidy.” Bobby’s a little frustrated that he didn’t think of that earlier, but he was grateful that he had a team heading that way and that he had someone with a brain looking into it.

“The land belonged to the Vanderbelts for decades…” Styles shakes his head, hating that it didn’t sound like it was connected to their guy.

“Wait! Vanderbelt?” At Bobby’s excitement though, it gives him some hope.

“Yeah.”

“That was Cassidy’s wifes maiden name. That land must have belonged to her family.” Their eyes said it all and they knew they needed to move. “Alright! I need you, you and you to stay here in case he comes back! The rest of you, follow us!”

The first set of officers came upon the scene, seeing flames coming from the old abandoned barn. They got on their radios and called in for a fire team right away all while Bobby, Styles and the other officers that followed heard what was going on through the radio communications.

“Anyone seem to be there?” Bobby asks, the radio letting out a bit of static as he gets off the line. Styles stares ahead, wanting to get there as fast as he can because he just knew in his gut that something was wrong and he wanted to find out what it was before it was too late.

“I’m not sure. I’m approaching the entrance now. Hold on.” The seconds between that and the next call out was torture. It was so quiet in Eddie’s car, he didn’t even have the radio on. He kept looking from the road to the clock on his dash, minutes just kept ticking by and he didn’t understand why they weren’t coming back. Was Cassidy still there? Were they hurt? So many questions ran through his head.

It wasn’t until about five long minutes later that static picked up on the radio and Rocky, the main officer's voice came through, finally.

“We need immediate medical assistance! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Requesting air support!” Styles stumbled with the radio, trying to lift it from the holder in a frenzy.

“Rocky! Who is it!?” he lets go of the button for a second to readjust the device in his hand. “Is it Winchester!?” Again, some silence goes by, making Styles want to scream, but then the confirmation comes through.

“Affirmative! Detective Winchester is clear of the building but is in serious condition! We need to….” At the sudden cutoff, Styles begins to panic.

“Rocky!?”

“Rocky? What’s going on?” Bobby then chimes in and Styles holds his breath.

“Sorry. Winchester says that Cassidy took off. Not sure which direction he went though.”

“Does he have his car!?” Styles is praying that the answer is yes knowing that he can trace the squad car.

“No. Winchester is shaking his head. He…he’s not doing good though, guys.”

“Air support is on the way. Tell him to hold on.” Bobby was always someone that held himself together, but for the first time ever, Styles heard emotion in his voice. “What type of injuries are we looking at?”

“Uh…Three GSW’s, two to the chest and one to the thigh. It looks like he has a nasty laceration on his head too.” Styles instantly feels sick. Seeing him shot in the shoulder was enough, but this…this was so much worse.

“Is Captain Singer on this line?” A new voice comes through, getting everyone confused on what was going on now.

“I’m here. What is it?”

“Well, I know one of your detectives has a pretty distinct car, just wanted to check with you and see if you knew where he was tonight. You know, the one who owns the Impala?” All their hearts stop in that second.

“What about him?”

“Well, I just pulled one over for running a red light. License plate, Kilo, Alpha, Zulu, Two, Yankee, Five. But it didn’t look like your guy, so…thought I’d check.”

“That’s his plate, Bobby!” Styles screams into the radio, the anger he’s feeling because of this entire situation making it hard to keep his officer mindset. This was personal and he was going to make sure he finished this. “Where was he headed!?”

“Well, when I let him go he was heading south on Gilpin, just off of Blackwood.”

“Thank you, officer.” Bobby sends through, hoping that the officer will switch channels.

“No problem.”

“I’m going after him, Bobby.” Styles puts through, practically an order as he was more than ready to flip his car in the other direction whether Bobby was okay with it or not. It’s only silent for a few beats before the Captain clicks on.

“Okay. I need two other units to go with him. Don’t care who.”

“You got it, boss.” One patrol unit confirmed and seconds later, another. Styles slowed down and then turned back to see if he could cut off Cassidy from another direction, the two other patrol cars mirroring his movements and keeping up with no issues.

Bobby’s tires spat up the dirt as he pulled up to the barn. He barely got the patrol car in park when he was jumping out of his seat and rushing over to where the EMT’s were hovered.

“Dean!” As he gets closer, he starts pushing people out of his way. “Move! Move! Dean!?” They had him on a stretcher and were just about to lift him and move him to the helicopter a couple yards away, so he made it just in time. “Oh, son…” Dean opens his mouth to speak, but only gurgled whispers come out. Yet he doesn’t quit until Bobby catches at least one word.

“Y/N?” The detective nods, grateful that he understood. “Where is she?” When Dean’s eyes close, Bobby takes the hint. “She’s with him?” That’s when Dean opens his eyes again, tears pooling quickly and overflowing without a sound being made. “Okay. Well, Styles is on his way to cut him off. He’ll get her, alright?” There does seem to be a relief that washes over the man, but it’s not enough to heal him unfortunately.

“We need to get him out of here.”

“Right. Yes, go ahead.” The paramedics lift the stretcher then, but before they can wheel him away, Dean reaches out and grabs Bobby’s arm and in return he places his hand over his. “We’ll get him.” he tells him, squeezing his hand. “I promise.” More tears slipped from Dean’s eyes, the salty liquid mixing with the blood stains on his face.

While Bobby watches them load up his non-blood related son, he gets on his radio and calls out for Styles, wondering if he found Cassidy or not.

Thankfully, luck seems to be on their side.

“It’s over, Cassidy! Drop the knife!” You shook in his arms, the knife to your throat even pinching your neck a bit. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had nicked some skin at this point. “You’re surrounded and we’re not letting you leave here unless you’re in one of these patrol cars, so you mine as well give it up.”

“Man, you and Dean are so optimistic. But I can tell you right now that that isn’t happening.”

Styles knew right then and there that Cassidy wasn't going to give in. He might not make it out of this alive, but he sure as hell will take as many of them out along with him and his first priority? Y/N. He knew that no matter what happened in the next few minutes, he had to protect you at all costs. For Dean.

Without drawing too much attention to himself, Styles glances at the officers to his right. They’re just out of sight for Cassidy and they may have the advantage of getting the drop on him without you getting caught in the crossfire. But he forgot how good Cassidy really was.

Seeing this, Cassidy’s eyes sneak a peek to his left, but they don’t waste too much time on looking for the threats. He’s as quick as a cat. With you still in his hold, he drops the knife and whips out Dean’s gun, sending off two shots and taking down the two officers advancing on him. In that time, Styles sends off a shot of his own but Cassidy drops to his knees, tearing you down with him.

But at least that worked to their advantage. With that motion, you were able to get free. Knowing it wasn’t safe to be within shooting range of Cassidy, you took off towards the woods just off the road. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had to run for your life, so it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

In retaliation, Cassidy sent a shot off towards Styles before turning and shooting the remaining two officers with him and then he took off into the trees after you.

Grateful, Styles was able to dodge the bullet that went flying at him and when he realized that, he too took off into the tree line, hoping that he could find you before Cassidy did.

You had heard the other shots go off when you took off running. At first you were afraid that those bullets were meant for you, but when you heard boots shuffling through the brush behind you, the more you started thinking the worst.

The thought of all those officers, including Eddie, dying because they were there to save you caused you to choke up as you made your way through the trees. You only made it a few more feet in when you had to stop. Between the running and your emotions heightening, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Finding a large tree, you leaned up against it, peeking around the trunk and trying to listen for any movement around you. When everything seemed to be clear, you rested back against the bark, taking calming breaths as best as you could.

Your eyes dropped to the handcuffs locking your wrists together and the pessimist in you seemed to seep out. Dark thoughts instantly clouded your thoughts and your emotions rose even more.

You thought about how you were stuck out here with Cassidy. Dean was gone, and if not, he was probably going to be soon because Cassidy was a good shot. For all you knew, Eddie and the other officers were laying out in the road, bleeding to death and if there was another unit coming, the odds of them making it to you before Cassidy does was very slim.

You were screwed.

Tears fell to the ground below you, your hands shaking as you let yourself break down. The heaviness of the situation was crippling and you were terrified that you weren’t going to make it out of this.

The thought of losing Dean was the worst of all. You couldn’t stop picturing him on the ground, bleeding everywhere as you were pulled away from him. But the more you stood there and thought about him, the more you were reminded that he wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you crying over him when your own life was still on the line. You could even picture him there in front of you, trying to get you to move your ass. Sweet but firm, of course.

For how much your subconscious fought back and told him to shove it, you knew you needed to stop. You needed to get out of this and if anyone was capable of doing that, it would be you. You escaped hell once before, who's to say you can’t do it again?

Taking another moment for yourself, you looked down at the ring on your finger, letting a few more quiet sobs shake you before lifting your hands and kissing the object that connected you and Dean. Then, cautiously, you peeked around the trunk again. You couldn’t hear anything but that meant nothing with this guy. He was good and you had to remember that.

Taking a chance, you slowly made your way further into the trees, keeping your eyes peeled and your ears on full alert. You were terrified. You were trembling, but you knew you needed to keep going.

After making it a few more feet, you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you. Out of reflex, you spun around, your eyes darting all over the place as you tried to find what made the noise. But there was nothing. Of course you knew better, but you couldn’t see anything which only made you more scared.

Carefully, you kept moving. Slow but steady as you tried to make it to the next huge tree so that you could get some cover again.

You were only a few feet away when you were swept off your feet, a hand going over your mouth as you were flying forward. Just as you were shoved up against a tree trunk, you started flailing your arms, trying to hit anywhere and everywhere you could, refusing to be taken prisoner again. Heavy breathing and panicked noises were kept muffled by the man in front of you and it wasn’t until he was able to pin your arms against your chest that your eyes widened.

“Shhh.” Getting you to calm down a little, Eddie then peered around the tree, hoping he was covered enough to keep himself safe but exposed enough to where he could spot Cassidy. But just like you, he sees nothing. “Okay. When I say so, we’re going to head that way.” he nods to his right. “Try to keep low and stay close to me. Alright?” You nod against his hand and he finally peels it away from your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you answer as quietly as you can, tears still falling from your eyes. “Dean.” you choke. “He…”

“He’s getting help.” Your eyes widen, your breathing becoming shaky again from the shock.

“He’s….”

“For now.” Hearing that, a sob slips from your lips and Eddie pulls you close, whispering ‘I know’ into your hair. “But we need to get you out of here, alright?” You nod frantically, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and get to Dean. “Alright…” he peeks around the tree once again, his eyes sharp before he pushes you a bit to get you moving.

Like Eddie, you keep an eye out still, looking for any movement and listening for any sound, but thankfully it seems to be clear for now. You followed his orders, keeping low and making sure he was right behind you the entire time. If anything, it brought you comfort to have him so close.

But for what happened next, it only reminded you of how much better at this Eddie was than you.

“Y/N!” His loud voice caused you to flinch forward, but the sound of a gun going off made you collapse onto the ground. You fell face first into the dirt and when the shock wore off, you frantically felt yourself up, wondering if you were shot.

Grateful that you didn’t feel anything, bullet hole or blood, you flipped over onto your back, keeping close to the ground since you knew now that Cassidy was close. You looked into the distance, still not seeing anything and it honestly pissed you off that he was this good. But it’s when you look to your feet, to where Eddie should be right behind you when your panic comes back.

“Eddie?” you cry out in a shaky voice, but he doesn’t move. “Eddie?” you call out again, just a little louder this time. When you hear a low moan you scramble to his side, not caring if you’re seen.

Once you’re over him, you see that he’s in pain and that’s when you look down to his chest. Blood was starting to soak into the side of his shirt telling you he was hit.

“Eddie.” you cry, trying to keep yourself together, but you just couldn’t do it. “Hang on, please? Please.” you melt a bit more, your hand pushing on his wound to help stop the bleeding.

“Well, well, well.” Hearing Cassidy makes you freeze, but you don’t move from your position. You refuse to let go of Eddie. “This wasn’t my plan but I guess it’ll have to do.” You finally look over your shoulder to see him standing over you both, the gun pointing in your direction. But you can tell by the angle that he’s pointing it at Eddie. A kill shot for sure, right to his head.

Taking Eddie’s hand, despite how weak he may feel, you place it on his wound and tell him to press down as much as he can and that’s when you turn around and block the bullet's path to its indicated victim. Cassidy of course gets that smug smirk and to your surprise, that’s when he shifts the barrel, the kill shot now intended for you.

“Seems my plan has already been fucked, so I guess there’s no reason to keep you around any longer.” he states as he gets a better grip on the gun. “Say hi to Dean for me.” Your entire body shakes, your fear of death front and center as he starts to pull the trigger back.

“Drop the gun, Cassidy!”

“Drop it!” Multiple people start screaming at the man to drop his weapon and you take a second to look around. The three of you are surrounded by officers and you even spot Bobby in the crowd.

“Now, Cassidy! Drop it!” He clearly doesn’t want to follow orders, not that you expected him to. You figured that he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

You have no idea where it came from or why, but somehow in that moment, surrounded by all of Dean’s fellow officers, you got up the courage to stand up to Cassidy. Getting up from your knees, you stood right in front of him, holding your head high as you challenged him to shoot you without saying a word.

“Cassidy! Now! Drop the gun!”

“Drop it, Cassidy!”

“Drop it!”

While everyone around you yelled at him to surrender, you just kept your eyes locked with his, your gaze hard and unwavering. Then, as some more time passed without any movement on his part, you closed your eyes, practically giving yourself up to him.

You don’t know what had calmed you so much, but you were suddenly unafraid. You were expecting him to shoot and you were waiting to hear the echo of the shot before peace took you over. But all you kept hearing was the officers screaming at him to drop the gun.

For a brief second you could hear Eddie behind you, calling out for you to move. But before you could react to him, it happened.

The gun went off.

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messrsbyler · 1 year

Text

and when in s5 we get a moment where they are being cornered by a demo-creature and when jonathan looks around trying to find a way out or something to fight back, he spots the nail bat. he hasn’t seen that old thing in years, but there it is, their only beacon of hope in sight. the demo-creature is lurking closer and because steve is the one porting the split lip and a nasty cut on his cheek, it follows the scent of blood giving jonathan a narrow opening. jonathan lurches for the bat while the demo-creature is getting ready to pounce on steve.

right on the last second, jonathan spins around.

“STEVE!” he yells and throws the bat to steve who catches it by the handle side (luckily enough) and swings it right across the monsters face.

but he creature doesn’t give up. its hunger for fresh human meat is stronger than the newly opened wounds. it screeches and pounces on steve who throws another blow. jonathan know the bat will give them little time. he looks around, panicking, heartbeat clawing up his throat. and then, he spots it. hopper’s rifle. he reaches for it and aims at the demo-creature.

the blood and heat spikes underneath jonathan’s skin and the dread that comes with feeling the weight of a gun in his hands swirls inside his stomach. but he doesn’t have time for his mind to get foggy and his palms to get clammy.

steve lands another hit and the monster has had enough. it bites the bat, pulls it out of steve’s grip and throws it to the other side of the room.

“shit!”

“steve, duck!”

steve does, doesn’t even question jonathan, he just jumps out of the way and then jonathan pulls on the trigger. the kickback is the worst part. it almost sends his entire body tumbling to the floor, with how shaky his legs are. but jonathan holds his ground and keeps shooting. one, two, three times, until the creature is dead.

the rifle slips from his grip and falls to the floor with a muted thump! jonathan fights the bile burning his throat and sipping into his mouth. god he’s going to be sick.

“byers. BYERS! hey, man. we gotta get out of here, now!”

jonathan nods, eyes still zeroing on the monster and its limp body. the sight, somehow, is a lot more tormenting than a dead rabbit.

jesus, jonathan can’t move. can’t feel the blood in his legs.

steve presses his hands on his shoulders. they are a much different weight from the cold touch of the rifle. steve’s hands are grounding and heavy, but steady even when every part of steve’s face shows how afraid he is.

“c’mon, man! i need you to snap out of it!” he says and shakes him a little. “byers? byers!”

“huh?” jonathan blinks and looks up.

“jesus,” steve hisses. “jonathan!”

it’s such a ridiculous thing to register how this is one of the few times steve has called him by his name and not byers or man or dude. it’s a pull that nudges him back to reality, which is embarrassing to say the least.

“shit. right. let’s go.”

steve doesn’t step away. he lets one of his hand slip down jonathan’s arm and his fingers circle around his wrist. “let’s go,” steve says and with his free hand he reaches for the bat. he doesn’t ask jonathan to grab the rifle, which is so stupid and maybe a death sentence with all the monsters still walking free out there. still, jonathan is grateful for it.

jonathan nods and allows steve to pull him towards the exit.

…

what then?

#this turned out to be longer than i anticipated #no one is surprised #my aus #stonathan #stonathan ficlet #stonathan headcanon #this is what i Need for s5 #stonatham working as a team and having each other’s back #or i’ll bite #jonathan byers #steve harrington #my ficlets

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tragic-shadows · 2 years

Note

Can I get a fic using 7. " She had a way of making you see things differently" and 39. "You tell me how it’s your fault and I’ll tell you how you’re wrong"

Title: Mourning Period

Word Count: 1471

Warnings: Thoughts of suicide/drinking (!!! also major spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched judgement day part 1/2 !!!)

Pairings: GibbsxReader, (past GibbsxJenny)

A/N: for purposes of causing the most pain possible, let's just pretend diane and macy were dead before all of this.

He didn't know what to do, his brain was spinning in circles as he stepped around the room. He didn't dare touch anything, didn't dare breathe too hard for fear of his own scent overpowering hers. Her jacket was still draped over the bak of her chair, the fabric was soft between his fingers as he ran his hands over them. It had been a week. 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds. Vance was moving in his stuff tomorrow. He hadn't let him sit in the chair, or at the desk, just at the conference table.

He also couldn't sit. At least not on the furniture. He found a corner beside the liquor cabinet that seemed suitable enough. Liquor and guns never mixed, and yet at the moment he had both. One in one hand and one in the other. Both of them were targeted for his head. He chose the drink first, keeping the gun close, just in case the alcohol didn't work. He drowned himself in the memories and the feelings and the touches. All the stolen glances and conversations that went on longer than they should have. All the knowing smiles and unknowing ones too. He never really loved any of his wives after Shannon. But he loved Jenny Shepard. He had always loved her, and he always would.

"Gibbs, breathe." You handed him a glass of water. You had come back to the office late to drop off a small box of Jenny's things that she had left at your apartment. Her house had had to be fumigated about a year ago and she had never gotten around to picking them up. The funeral was today and you figured it was time. While you were in the office, you spotted your boss sitting in the corner on the floor, a bottle and a half of scotch completely gone. "It's ok, it's gonna be ok." Now you were sitting next to him, the alcohol far out of reach, instead a glass of water and two aspirin took its place. You had also noticed his service weapon tucked in his lap, unloaded, the magazine sitting on the table in front of you. You didn't want to think about why he had it, so instead you focused your attention on him.

"I miss 'er," he slurred, head against the wall. "Loved 'er."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Mhm. She was erey' thing. Franks told me she still had feelin's. Shoulda been there. Shoulda saved 'er. Not Tony or Ziver's fault. My fault."

You sighed, reaching over to take his hand to stop him shaking. "You tell me how it's your fault and I'll tell you how you're wrong."

"My fault cause I shoulda told 'er I felt the same. Never stopped lovin' Jenny."

"I know. She was my best friend, I know."

"She ever talk 'bout me? Did ya' know?"

You gulped. She had, quite a lot actually, but you weren't sure if that was going to help the situation or make it worse. You tapped your glass a few times, thinking, before you answered. "She did. Sometimes she complained about how you never listened, but then she would tell some story and you were always the part she smiled at."

"Shoulda' told her."

"She knew."

"Then why the hell didn't she do somethin' 'bout it?"

"Probably the same reason you didn't."

You watched the way he stared at her desk. You had seen that look often, when he stared at Ziva's desk. Even though she was a great addition to the team, he missed Kate. It was also the same look he got on a single day of the year, the day Shannon and Kelly had been killed. He had loved and lost so many times you weren't sure if there was any love left for him to give.

"What was she like?" You asked. "Before I met her, before I met you. Paris."

"She had a way of making ya' see things different. We could be lookin' at a case file, I got one idea and she always had the right one. Not even that, jus' any situation she could turn 'round. I's half empty, she'd always be half full."

"What happened between you two?"

"She left." He stated plainly. The drinks had certainly gone to his head and part of you felt like asking him questions that he wouldn't like sober was wrong, but you needed him to talk. He needed to talk. He wanted to talk. "Didn't fit into her picture perfect plan. Too many loose ends, a liability." He finally knocked back the pain medicine you had set down for him.

"Is that what you think you are? A liability?"

"Why ya' ask that?"

You shrug. "I figure a self respecting, half-decent, Marine doesn't drink himself silly with a gun sitting three feet away unless he plans do to something to himself."

"Not gonna do anythin'."

"You know, for someone who's a great interrogator, you're not very good at lying." You gently laid your head on his shoulder. "Why do you think you're not good enough? I see it in your eyes all the time. When you're bossing us around, you seem like the biggest guy out there; when you sit at your desk and just look at us all, being silent Gibbs, you look like you're thinking. Like you're afraid to say the wrong thing. You don't believe in yourself."

"Everyone I love dies, Y/N. Everyone that loves me is dead."

"And why do you think that?"

"Shannon, Kelly, Kate, Diane, Macy, now Jenny?"

"You think those are the only people that love you? What about our team? Abby, Ziva? Me?"

"Don't love me like they did. Not like Jen. Miss 'er."

"I miss her too."

"Why didn't ya' save her?"

You had momentarily forgotten the fact that he was drunk and probably suicidal but the question made you realize just how much he was hurting right now. It was true, it was your fault. Well- not really your fault, you had agreed with Ziva but Tony had insisted that everything was fine and the Director could take care of herself. You shook yourself out of your head and went back to Gibbs. "You need to get home, or at least off the floor." You put his arm over your shoulder, doing your best to lift him off the ground. You made it a few steps over to the couch and helped him down. "I'll stay if you want me to. If you'd rather be alone.." You bit your lip, not really liking the idea of leaving him alone in this state. Before you could stay, a single word slipped from his lips.

"Stay."

"Ok.." You grabbed a blanket from the bottom drawer in Jenny's desk, draping it over the both of you. You wanted tea but that would mean leaving the room, and Gibbs. You counted the seconds as the clocked ticked and ticked and ticked.

The next time you looked over, his eyes were closed and his breathing had steadied. You were sore for sitting for so long and you decided getting yourself a cup of coffee would be helpful. You stood up and took a few steps but before you could get past him, he snagged the hem of your shirt.

"Huh?" You turned around.

"Wanna talk."

You nodded, understanding. "I'm going to use the restroom and get some water. You want water or a coffee?"

"Coffee. Black."

"Ok. I'll be back." You patted your hip to make sure his gun was still there next to your own.

The office was dark. Even the janitors had gone home and there was no flashlight of any of the night officers to be seen. The only light was that from the vending machines. You filled up his cup with coffee and yours with water and grabbed you each a chocolate bar. You took your time walking back upstairs, just trying to give your boss some space. You missed Jenny like hell but you had a different way of dealing with it. Instead of crying about it, you blocked it out. You clicked open the door, expecting to see Gibbs in the chair. Instead, he was curled up on the couch reading a magazine.

"You look better," you say.

"Just because I look better doesn't mean I am."

"Here." You hand him the coffee and situated yourself on the couch next to him. "I'm gonna get some sleep if you don't mind. Jenny always let me sleep on her couch when I didn't want to go home. You can stay if you want."

"Yeah."

You stayed like that for a minute or two in awkward silence when you felt tears welling at your eyes. You hadn't cried when Jenny was shot, you hadn't cried at the funeral earlier today, you couldn't remember the last time you cried, and yet here you were. About to cry. Crying. "Gibbs." you whisper. Nothing else needed to be said.

He pulled you down on the couch next to him and let you lay down, your head on his chest and his arm around you. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. If you didn't have each other, you weren't really sure what either of you would do. "Thank you, Y/N. Need you right now."

"I think…" you trail off, "I think I need you too."

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#ncis x reader #ncis #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #jibbs #grief/mourning

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polakina · 1 year

Text

on the hunt

'scars do heal' chapter 3

pairing: captain price x reader

rating: mature

outline: getting a lead on Hassan brought the 141 out to the middle of nowhere. With a solid plan in motion, things were set to run smoothly. But nothing ever did go to plan, did it?

warnings: canon violence, blood

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist II 'scars do heal' masterlist

The trigger tickled your fingertip as you exhaled slowly. Your body remained entirely still as your eyes stayed completely focused on the target far in the distance. In military training, your Seargant always said you had an eye for sniping, and you were happy enough when that was the role Price had tasked you with.

I need someone watching our backs from the tree line. That’s gonna be on you, rook. Keep an eye on our asses and stay outta sight, got it?

This was a big moment. Your big moment. You needed it to go perfectly.

Leaning over your resting post, you held the butt of the gun against the soft tissue just under your shoulder and closed one eye to focus better. Everything became clear and you let your bullet fly. You were inches from the target, the bullet hitting haystacks propped up behind it.

“Shit,” you hissed to yourself, reloading your gun and eyeing the pristine target accusingly. “Fuckin missing target, just aim properly you stupid idiot.”

“Well shit, maybe I should give the boys that kind of motivational speech before we head out tonight.” Price appeared behind you. You hadn’t seen it, but he’d been observing you from behind the firing safety line, watching you practice. You’d missed the first couple of shots and he could hear you quietly muttering to yourself in annoyance. You were a perfectionist, that much he’d come to learn since knowing you.

“Captain,” you turned on your heel, lowering the gun so the barrel wasn’t pointed directly at your superior officer.

“Easy, rook. Just here to help.” He came up beside you and placed his hands on your shoulders, spinning you back around to face the target. “That model you’re holding is a little more tricky to handle, but I’ve seen you in the field. You got this.” Price moved so he was standing behind you, bringing his arms around your body and placing his hands on the weapon. “Just move it up a little like this,” he muttered into your ears, adjusting the gun slightly. “There you go. And if you grip the gun here like this…” His fingers curled over yours, pulling your hand back on the barrel and keeping his hand enclosed over your own. “Better balance and it feels more comfortable, yeah?”

You nodded, adding a little hum of acknowledgement since you didn’t think you could speak with his hands on yours like this. It was the closest you’d ever been to the Captain, and you didn’t realise how large the man was until you felt his arms around your body.

Keep it together. He was your Captain. Fuck.

“So like this?” You gripped the weapon tighter in your hands, feeling the balance weigh itself out so the gun was not as top-heavy as you realised it originally felt.

“Exactly,” he whispered, removing his hands slowly, his fingertips brushing over your wrists before his touch receded from you entirely. “You got it.”

Exhaling once again, you focused on the target through your scope and fired, the shot residing in your ear and ringing through your head. The target pinged and a bullet hole was left in the dead centre of the red circle. You smiled, turning to Price who was smiling just as brightly back at you. “What did I tell ya, rook? A natural, right before my eyes. You did good.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and the wind blew between you both. A warm breeze, but it cooled you for just a mere moment. It was a strong enough breeze to stray the hairs that framed your face, pushing them in front of your eyes. Still holding the gun, you blew them out of the way, only managing to move the hair from one side.

Price’s hand moved up to your face gently, pushing the strands out of your face and behind your ear. He looked everywhere but your eyes, whereas you couldn’t keep your focus off of his. Neither of you said anything for a moment, the sounds of gunfire and chatting filling the silent space between you.

“Um,” Price cleared his throat, realising his finger still rested on your cheek and taking it away quickly as though your skin burned him to the touch. “I’m going to check in with Graves, see if air support is all ready for us.” He stepped back and bowed his head. “Keep working on that gun, rook. If you’re lucky enough, you can take it on mission once you get the hang of it.” He winked briefly and turned to walk away, leaving you standing there frozen in place.

“So, how did shooting practice go?” Ghost asked as he sat beside you in the food hall. As per usual, he didn’t have his own bowl in front of him. He usually took his bowl to his room to eat so as to not have to remove his mask in front of everyone.

“Hmm,” you nodded, swallowing your food and looking over to him. “Went good. Tried out that rifle I had my eyes on, gonna bring it with me tonight.”

“Yeah, I noticed you out there today with Price,” Ghost mentioned, a certain tone to his voice you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But the way he said it made you stop the spoon inches from your mouth.

“Yeah, he…” you trailed off, letting the broth fall back into the bowl with a plop. “He was helping me out with the new model.

“Yeah, I saw that part too.” There it was, that suspicious tone again. But you didn’t pry into it. Instead you went back to eating your food. The rest of the boys joined not soon after Ghost, Soap patting you on the back before sitting down opposite, Gaz seating himself beside Soap.

“All ready, lads?” Soap asked, tucking into his food. The rest of you murmured in agreement, looking between one another. None of you were looking forward to it, but if it meant that you could end the war happening here, then it was all worth it in the end.

The flight over in the helo was silent. You sat between Price and Ghost, your knee shaking slightly. Not out of fear, more just from the nerves. This was big. No place to mess up now. It was all resting on this one mission. If you lost him tonight..there was a chance you’d never find him again. There was a chance some of you might not even return.

No.

You couldn’t put yourself in that mindset. Not right now. You had to stay focused .

Price’s hand came to rest on your shaking knee, patting it gently. “All good, rook?”

You nodded, adjusting your helmet. “Yeah. Just…don’t wanna mess up.”

He leaned in closer for you to be heard over the helo blades whirring loudly. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be quick and then we can all go home and get some much needed sleep.”

You smiled, still looking at the floor. “Sounds like a good plan, Cap.”

He patted your knee once more before standing up. “Alright, lads. Let’s do this. We all know what to do, so let’s get in, get Hassan, and get the fuck out. And let’s all try not to die while doing it, eh?”

You smirked. Good speech, Cap.

And with that, the helo landed in a clearing of trees, a few clicks from the location where Hassan was apparently hiding out. You followed the boys out, holding your rifle comfortably in your arms as you all moved north, Price leading the team.

After a while, about half an hour, you suspected, Price held up a closed fist, stopping you all in your tracks. Price crouched at the end of the opening of trees, overlooking a large base camp at the bottom of the small cliff you were all hidden on top of. The rest of you crouched beside him along the cliff’s edge, taking in the environment below.

The perimeter of the hideout was illuminated by lights, both artificial and by firelight, showing the full extent of how large the camp was. Shit. it was crawling with Hassan’s men. A few dozen of them patrolling around the fence’s edge. There was a cluster of about eight men, from what you could see through your binoculars, all on standby outside the building in the centre of the compound. That had to be where Hassan was.

“Rook. Sitrep,” Price asked, looking over to where you were on the far left-hand side, spying through your binocs.

“Few dozen guarding the perimeter, all heavily armoured. Got about eight outside the big building in the center. Two on the front door, two on the back and two on either side from what I can see. I say that’s our best bet of where Hassan’s hiding.”

“Alright, good.” Price said, looking over to the right of the compound and seeing a collection of high grass just on the tree line. The high grass spread all the way to the fence’s edge, from what he could see. That’s where he could intercept. “Right boys. See that tree line there?” He pointed to the high grass and the boys all looked over in unison, muttering a yeah in response. “That’s where we head in. Lights out, stay low crawling through that grass. We should be able to breach the fence line with your cutters, Gaz.”

The boys began moving down the tree line, guns ready and scanning for any movement in the distance. You stayed crouched where you were, both you and Price silently agreeing that this was your place to set up.

“Alright, rook. You keep an eyeout from up here, anything goes wrong or you see something, call through on comms, got it?” Price asked, moving over to crouch by you, seeing how you were still scanning the environment, your binocs on the ground next to you now.

“Yeah, Cap. I got it.” His hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“I know you do. Just stay outta sight and keep an eye out. We’ll be in contact and let you know when we got him. It’ll be heavy fire when we get our hands on Hassan and prepare for extraction. So we’re counting on you here, rook. The second we get Hassan out of fire, contact the helo for evac.” Squeezing your shoulder one last time, he left to regroup with the guys, leaving you alone on the cliffside.

You set up your rifle on its stand, adjusting the scope to clear the path leading to the compound and you laid down. Nobody would see you from up here. You had bushes in front of you to clever your body and your gear blended with the background perfectly. Looking through the scope, you focused your attention on the high grass where the boys would be appearing soon. Waiting a few minutes, you flicked your focus between the high grass and the fence line where Price had planned to breach the perimeter.

You spotted Price not soon after, the team crawling their way slowly through tall grass so as to not be detected. Looking over to the fence line, you saw that the fence line was clear in that sector.

“Fence is clear so far, Captain. You’re clear to breach.”

“Good eye, rook. Keep an eye out,” his whisper came through your radio in a gruff, quiet tone.

So you did. Noting every enemy soldier that approached them from a blindside, clearing the path for them visually until they made it to the main building. Gaz approached from the left side, Ghost on the right. Soap and Price made their way straight down the middle. You watched as they took out any targets with stealth, using either their bare hands or knives when they could. It was quiet for now. Just how you needed it to be. No point in stirring up a storm until you found the one you came for.

You watched as the boys made it to the central building, taking the enemies on look out four at a time. Gaz and Price attacked the ones on the furthest back wall, Soap and Ghost taking out the right side wall, before uniformly moving around the corners to take out the other men. It was clear. For now.

Casting your weapon to the left side of the compound, you let out a breath of relief that the other soldiers hadn’t been alerted to your team. So you clicked your radio to let them know.

“In the clear so far, they haven’t heard you.”

“10-4. Preparing to breach the building. Shit’s gonna get messy, be careful.”

“You too, boys,” you said, curling your finger on the trigger and breathing slowly.

Shit really did kick off after that. The second they breached the door to where Hassan was, bullets started flying. The armed guards started running to the centre of the compound and you started picking them off one by one, the firing shot resonating in your ears every time you pulled the trigger.

Five. Six. Seven. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. You were losing track. Thinking back to Price’s advice, you realised how better your aim was now. You were hitting them all with one shot. Straight to the head. They dropped like bombs to the ground, unmoving. Unresponsive.

Seeing that the boys were in the clear for now, you focused back to Price and the rest of the team, seeing them hauling a fifth man along with them. Relief flooded you. They had him. Hassan was captured finally. You waited for the order to call in evac, finger tickling the trigger just in case someone popped up out of the shadows.

You were nervous. Things were going too well. Yes, there had been a few close calls, but everything was running a little too smoothly. If there was one thing you’d learned from war, nothing was ever accomplished the easy way. And this felt all too easy for your liking.

“Rook. Rook! Call in evac. We got the bastard, heading to the extraction point now. Meet us there ASAP.” Price was out of breath, hauling Hassan with one arm, Ghost holding the other. They’d done it. Price could finally go back to Las Almas with a weight lifted off his shoulders. Now that they had Hassan, they could foil his plans, have him locked up forever, and finally have that celebratory drink he’d been promising his team. They headed through the trees, Gaz on the scanner for any other enemies lurking in the dark. So far so good. Their extraction point was only a few clicks up the hill. As soon as they were past the hill peak, their helo would be landing on the other side.

“You got it, Cap. Helo’s ETA is twelve minutes. On route now.” You packed up your gear after clearing the last few enemies that made it past the fence line, gunning for your team. They were shot down before they could even get close.

Grabbing the rest of your gear and folding up the rife stand, you checked everything before heading out. You didn’t make it far, however. The distinct clicking of a bullet sliding into the barrel stopped you in your tracks.

“Found you.” His accent was different. New to you. He was one of Hassan’s men. You’d missed him as he took the left on orders of his fellow comrades while they all went right towards the firing. His sole mission to search for you and eliminate you as a threat. You’d missed how he climbed his way through the tree line, finding the path and following your footsteps to your lookout point.

You were frozen in place. You had zero advantage. Your handgun was firmly locked in your holster and there was no way of you getting to it without seeing you and firing a bullet into the back of your head. You were utterly fucked.

“Turn around.” You did. There was nothing else you could do except comply now. Facing the enemy, all you saw in his eyes were pure hatred. “Drop the gun, your pack and your helmet. Now. And that radio. Wouldn’t want you calling in for backup, would we?”

Your gear made a plop as it hit the soft ground below you. You said nothing. If you tried, you were sure to piss him off and encourage that trigger finger.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees.” He stepped forward when you didn’t follow his instructions immediately. Your brain went fuzzy and you realised this was the moment when you died. But you were brought back to crippling reality when the cold barrel of the gun pressed firmly against your head, right between your eyes. “Do not make me repeat myself. Get on the fucking ground.” His deep voice did not match his face, you noted as you dropped to the ground slowly, your legs shaking and your breath labouring. He was a slim-built man, chiselled jaw with dark features. A scar above his left eye and acne scars running down his cheek to his collar.

He looked you over, his gun under your chin to tilt your face up to him. You tried to show no weakness, looking at him with a fire in your eyes, meeting his own rage. “You think you can come into our territory. Take our general. And think there are no consequences? You stupid little bitch. You’ll pay for what you’ve done here today.” You felt his hand tighten on the gun as he dragged it up the left side of your face, back to between your eyes. His hand was shaking, you could feel it. You wanted to close your eyes, but you refused to. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing fear even in the moment of imminent death.

But static on a radio paused the finger on the precipice of squeezing the trigger. It made you jump. It wasn’t your radio. Why would it be? The boys assumed you were on your way to them now, there would be no need to call in unless something was going wrong.

He listened in to the radio, and you tried to gauge what they were saying from his facial expressions. You didn’t get very far, his features remained stoic as he listened, his eyes trained on you with the gun mere millimetres from your face. He was too focused for you to try anything. If perhaps he looked away for a second, you could catch him off guard, but his laser focus on you didn’t allow for that.

The soldier responded curtly, static fading out as he disconnected with whoever was on the other side. Walking to stand behind you, he kicked something from beside your leg, your radio. Seconds later you tried not to jump out of your skin as he aggressively stomped on your one connection to the boys. Looking over for a quick moment, you saw the radio fizzling and broken, squashed to pieces. Any way to contact your team was now shattered. You were alone.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

A sharp pain to the back of your skull was all you felt for a mere second before darkness engulfed you.

“We’ve got to go, Price! There’s no time to wait. You heard the radio, they’ll be all over us in a few minutes if we don’t get the fuck out of here!” Graves was growing increasingly angry with Price, who refused to board the helo.

“I’m not leaving until we’re all here, Graves!” He shouted back, looking to the collection of trees from where you should have emerged a while ago. Something was wrong. He should have gone after you the second he made it to the helo and realised you weren’t there waiting. Your trip was shorter than theirs. You were alone and more agile, you should have been there. Why weren’t you there?

“Look, our mission has already been shot to shit. Hassan got away and we won’t get out with our lives if we stay here. If she’s still alive, she’ll have to wait until we have more firepower, more men, and more of a plan to save her.” Graves’ eyes widened as Price grabbed him by his collar, pushing him against the outside of the helo forcefully.

“ If she’s alive? She is. I know she is. And we aren’t leaving without her. She’s part of my team, Graves. Unless you’d forgotten that. Now shut your damn mouth and don’t ever try to tell me how to deal with my own soldiers. Worry about your own.” His eyes were seething with rage, as was his tone. Pushing Graves against the helo rather hard, he let him go, turning his attention to his radio. “Rook? How copy?” Nothing. Not even static. Just silence. You could have broken your radio. The boys had done it before while running from enemies. It wasn’t an uncommon thing. But you were very careful with your equipment. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Stepping to walk away from the helo, an arm grabbed him and Price spun on his heel, fist closed prepared to hit Graves for even trying to touch him. But it was Ghost who had grabbed him.

“Price, you can’t. We can hear the convoys closing in. It’s too reckless, too dangerous. We’ll circle back here when we can to get her. But right now we need to leave. Or we’ll all die and the rookie will be stuck out here alone with no way back.” It hurt Ghost to say it, and as much as Price wanted to order him back to the helo, he could hear it in his voice. Nobody wanted to leave the rookie out here. But Ghost was right. It was reckless. Even if it was to retrieve a lost soldier.

“Fuck. Shit!” Price hated that there was only one option here. Not to find you. To leave you. But they did. They sat there in silence as the helo flew out of harm’s way before Hassan’s men could get to them. They all looked over to the empty seat beside Price. But no one said anything.

“How the fuck did you lose Hassan?” Vargas asked, slamming his fist onto the briefing table. Both he and Parra had stayed behind, but now Vargas was seriously regretting that decision. The team had come back without Hassan, and without you. Their faces were gloomy and angry, beating themselves up about the decisions they’d made to get this far. But nobody looked as irate as Price did. Nobody had dared to even speak to him since coming back, for fear they’d be ripped to shit in front of everyone. “You had him. He was at the helo. How did you lose him so quickly?”

Price didn’t speak, so Ghost spoke for him. “We had Hassan, got him to the extraction. But he had a team of mercs waiting for him in the trees. They ambushed us and we barely got out there with our heads. He got away in a truck, headed west along the path but we lost him in the trees.”

Vargas processed this for a moment, sighing in defeat as he looked down at the table, maps scattered across the wood. “And the rookie?” His tone was softer this time.

Everyone looked to Price, who lifted his head at the mention of you. “Gone. She didn’t make it to the helo. We had to…leave without her.” Nobody else spoke except Vargas. But Soap looked over at Graves who looked as though he had something to say that nobody was going to agree with. He prayed he wouldn’t add anymore fuel to the fire this time. It wasn’t the right moment for Graves to add his input. Then again, it rarely was.

“So she’s…”

“No.” Price’s voice came across as forceful. Commanding. He refused to believe that about you. “She’s out there. We have to find her. I need a helo to scout the area, drop me and my boys off and we’ll organise a rescue mission and-”

“She’s dead, Captain.” Graves’ voice came from the corner, his tone plain and assertive, half his body hidden in the shadows. If you weren’t looking for him, you wouldn’t even know he was in the room. “You’d been sending your men on a rescue mission for a corpse. Do you really want to risk the soldiers you have for the one you couldn’t keep alive.” The tension could be cut with a blade, everyone in the room except Price looking at Graves with daggers in their eyes. But nobody said anything. They didn’t have to.

Price snapped. Pushing his hands off the table, he strode past his team and heading for Graves. “You shut your fucking mouth, you piece of shit!” His finger was pointed at Graves, who stepped out of the shadows to fully stand to him. “She is alive out there, and we don’t leave our people behind. This isn’t any of your damn concern, she’s not one of yours.”

Soap thought Graves had finally stopped trying to antagonise Price. But of course, the Shadow soldier never did know when to shut up. “A bit of advice here, Captain. ” Graves stepped to Price, closing the large gap between them, lifting his head slightly to meet his eye. “Cut your losses. She’s gone. And you want to know why? Because she was a rookie. One you failed to keep alive because you trusted her too much. Her death is on you. So you don’t get to go retrieve her. Because all you’d be retrieving is a corpse with a hole in her head.”

Ghost’s eyes widened as he watched Price lift his fist. He stepped in, grabbing his Captain’s arm and pulling him away as he tried to swing at Graves. “Easy, Captain,” he said gruffly, holding back his superior officer. The rest of the boys joined in, some of them calming down Price, some of them dealing with Graves.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Graves,” Soap spat out, clenching his jaw. “Like Price said, this is none of your concern. If we want to go get our teammate, then we’ll fucking do it.”

“No, you won’t,” Graves folded his arms, completely unfazed by Price spouting shit at him still from the other side of the room. Ghost was in front of Price, trying to tell him to keep his head, now wasn’t the time for emotional decisions. “Because you don’t have the authorisation to use Shadow helo’s unless I give the order. And I’m not ordering my men to fly you out to the middle of fucking nowhere to pick up a dead girl.” With that, he left. Leaving the 141 shaking with rage.

“Captain, what are our orders?” Gaz asked, slightly nervous about Price. They’d never seen him in such a state of fury.

“We get her back.” Price placed his palms on the table, with no room for negotiation in his tone. Not that there needed to be. The 141 were all on the same page. Right now, Hassan wasn’t there priority. Getting you back safe in one piece was all they wanted right now. “We get a helo out there and we bring Rook back alive.”

“What about the authorisation. Graves was right, we can’t fly without it,” Soap pointed out, hating that he agreed with Graves’ word on something.

“Fuck authorisation. We’ll get a helo. I’ll get us a helo. Nobody in the 141 is left behind, no matter the state they're in. Understood?” Price looked to his team, grateful that they were all nodding along with him.

“Let’s go get her then, Captain,” Ghost agreed, taking a deep breath. “What’s our first move?”

Price looked over to the window of the tent, spotting the helo’s lined up with their pilots all outside conversing amongst one another. “Well,” he stood up straight, looking around at his team who were just as ready to go as he was. “We do what we do best. And we get back our rookie.”

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