#My regular builds are better than this I promise ;-; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darlingvernon · 1 year

Text

always been you [M] | yoon jeonghan.

Author: darlingvernon

Pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem reader

Genre: royalty au, arranged marriage au, smut

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex

Word Count: 10,521

Summary: you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall in love but jeonghan just had to go ahead and ruin everything

Author’s Note: this is my piece for the @svthub collab: Pink Eros. i’d written it differently to the way i usually write due to the concept and i'm sorry it's so long lol. please make sure you check out the other works in the collab and support my fellow writers as well! please let me know your thoughts and i hope you guys enjoy!

You were six years old when the Duke, your father, told you that you were engaged to the Crown Prince.

Back then, you had no idea what it all meant. But, being the obedient daughter that you were, the words ‘Yes, Father’ came out of your own mouth with no hesitation. That was when your whole life changed.

Almost immediately, your etiquette, history and dancing lessons increased, especially when compared to your older brother Joshua who was also taking advanced lessons as heir to the Kidrey Duchy. On top of that, you also had to learn various other subjects that would shape you to be the Crown Princess and future Empress, the Empire required.

Gone were the days when you sat back and enjoyed being a regular noble six year old and you didn’t even have the time to say goodbye.

A year later, you met Jeonghan.

On your seventh birthday, you and the Duke went on a week-long journey to Lombardi, the Capital of the Attacca Empire. As soon as you arrived, your presence was summoned by the Emperor, who had wished to greet his future daughter-in-law himself.

Your eyes were glued to the floor as you stood beside your father in front of the Emperor. To others, it would’ve seemed that you were greatly intimidated by the presence of His Majesty, which was true to some degree, since you were busy trying to remember whether you should bow, curtsey or do a mixture of both.

However, to the boy who sat next to His Majesty, it appeared that you were far more interested in the tiles that adorned the Great Hall than him. Speaking from experience, the other girls usually stared at him and giggled to themselves, mumbling about how good looking he was. The fact that you were acting differently had his curiosity piqued.

“Lady _____, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” His Majesty greeted and you managed to finally look up at him, thanks to your father’s reassuring hand that was on your back. “Blessings to you on your birthday. As a gift, I’d like to present my son, Crown Prince Jeonghan, who’ll be your playmate and fiancé.”

You finally noticed the boy who was sitting next to the Emperor when he stood. Despite being the same age as you, he was much taller. His jet black hair made his porcelain skin stand out and his clothing made his build deceivingly lean.

When your eyes met, there were no sparks, no butterflies fluttering in your belly like in the novels your nanny used to read to you. Though there was fire in his eyes as he continued to stare, you continued to feel nothing.

That same day, you decided that you would never fall in love with Jeonghan.

Since the Kidrey Duchy was a fair distance away from Lombardi, it was decided by His Majesty that Jeonghan would spend every summer at the Duchy, so that you were both able to fulfill your duties as playmates. Every summer, the only times you ever saw each other were during his arrival and during meal times. Even then, words were barely exchanged between you. Jeonghan spent most of his stay studying and sparring with Joshua and if people didn’t know any better, they would have thought that your brother was His Highness’ playmate instead.

Summer after summer passed by with no incidents and no changes to your relationship, until you turned fifteen and were making preparations to debut into high society.

It was your typical afternoon, nose buried in a book in the library when Tia, your personal maid, came and informed you that Jeonghan had invited you for some tea in the garden. With no good excuse to turn him down, you made your way to join him.

As you walked, you wondered what possessed the Crown Prince to invite you to tea but came to no conclusion. You thought the whole thing was rather strange, especially when he dismissed the guards and maids as soon as they poured your tea.

“Thank you for joining me, _____,” Jeonghan spoke first and the lack of formality took you by surprise, delaying your answer.

“Thank you for inviting me, Your Highness,” you replied after composing yourself.

Jeonghan grimaced, “Please just call me Jeonghan.”

“Your Highness, I could never—”

“At least, while we’re in private. Please,” Jeonghan requested, firmly.

You sat back and took the time to consider his request. Based on the look of determination on his face, it didn’t seem like he would have changed his mind. “I can do that,” you acquiesced, and decided to drop the formality altogether. “So, Jeonghan. Is there a reason we’re having tea at the moment? We haven’t really spoken to each other at all, ever.”

To his credit, Jeonghan didn’t bat an eye. “Father has requested that I escort you to the debutante ball,” he revealed.

With a sigh, you reached for your cup and brought it to your lips. After taking a sip, you realised it was chamomile tea, your favourite. Was this pure coincidence or did he happen to know?

“Of course, he did,” you replied eventually. “I suppose that I don’t have a choice in the matter?”

“I’m afraid not,” Jeonghan answered and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed. “Did you have somebody else in mind?”

“Only my brother,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want any unwanted attention or any targets on my back, which is now no longer the case. I didn’t think His Majesty wanted our engagement to be known yet?”

Jeonghan grabbed his fork and stabbed the opera cake in front of him, taking a small piece to taste. “That would be correct,” he confirmed. “The gesture won’t be revealing our engagement or placing a target on your back. You are the only daughter from the Heads of the Founding Families, it’s only right that I escort you.”

You couldn’t argue with that fact. It wasn’t unheard of from any Empire for the Crown Prince to escort a daughter from a Ducal Family. As you thought about the debutante ball, another problem reared its ugly head. “Jeonghan, you leave tomorrow,” you pointed out.

“I do.”

“How long have you known that you were going to be my partner?”

From the look on Jeonghan’s face, he expected this. “Before I left Lombardi,” he answered nonchalantly.

To say you were irritated was an understatement, but due to the fact that you were in front of the Crown Prince, you had no choice but to keep your composure. “But, you only told me today?” You laughed, humourlessly. “For what purpose—”

“I just felt like it.” Jeonghan shrugged and a smirk plastered itself on his beautifully annoying face.

Would you have been hung for treason for socking him right in the mouth even though he was your future husband?

Jeonghan could have sat there and watched you grow indignant all day. It far was better than the usual emotionless face you showed him every day. He knew you would make him pay for it later but he didn’t know how else to approach the fact that neither of you had spoken properly in all those years you had known each other and it was starting to frustrate him.

Negative thoughts and insecurities festered in his head since the day you met and nothing had satisfied his growing curiosity. He was running out of options and he wanted to at least try and get to know you before your impending nuptials. Resigned to the fact that he had to marry somebody who wasn’t of his own choosing, he’d be damned if he had to marry somebody who was a complete stranger to him.

It was impossible to run the Empire efficiently in that sense, let alone growing old together and spending the rest of your lives together.

“I didn’t mean to displease you,” Jeonghan said, and it finally got you out of your head. “Forgive me, I was only trying to knock down two birds with one stone.”

The revelation surprised you once more and you weren’t sure how many more you could have taken that day. “What was the other issue that you were concerned about?” you queried.

Jeonghan leant forward and placed both arms on the table. “We don’t converse with each other much” —he raised a brow when you were about to question him— “or at all for that matter and that is a problem. For our future and for the Empire.”

Whatever retort you had in mind came up short and you gestured for him to continue.

“We can correspond through letters,” he explained. “You can write to me once you’ve chosen your dress so that I can make sure that we match and after that, you can write about whatever you want. I don’t care if you write about every mundane thing you do. You can even write to me all the swear words and curses currently circling in your head.”

The giggle was out of your lips before you could stop it and in return, you received the view of Jeonghan’s bright smile. “I hope you won’t regret that,” you conceded. He brought up great issues to be considered and admittedly, these concerns were not new to you as they plagued you as well. “However, what are we going to do about the first dance?”

“That’s not a problem,” Jeonghan assured you. “I’ve seen you dance after all.”

“I beg your pardon—”

“Besides” —he interrupted and hoped that you’d forget about his slip— “I’m a Prince. I’ll be able to lead perfectly even if you have two left feet.”

“I do not—”

Jeonghan’s laugh echoed in the gardens and it finally dawned on you that he was just teasing. You forgave him only because he allowed you to stomp on his foot once during the dance.

And that was how your friendship blossomed.

You were eighteen when you broke your promise.

It was rather unusual for Jeonghan to be at the Kidrey Duchy during autumn and more so with such a sombre expression on his face as he stood next to you, especially after the way you both grew increasingly close to each other. But, it didn’t compare to how you looked and felt beside him.

It had only been a week since he heard the news of the Duke and Duchess’ passing and he had arrived as soon as possible. So, your hollowed eyes and sunken cheeks were a devastating shock to him. Even your brother fell to his knees and shed tears next to you as they lowered the caskets into the graves but you continued to remain stoic, showing your strength which allowed your brother a moment of weakness.

Jeonghan almost believed that you were coping rather well, but his fears were soon realised when he saw how your hand trembled as you picked up the shovel, dirt spilling from the way you shook and barely made it to the grave. As he waited for you to stand next to him once more, he tried to think of a way that he could have eased your pain.

Once Joshua gathered himself, Jeonghan took his chance and offered you his hand. A look of confusion flashed on your face and when you turned to look at your brother, he nodded in consent. Jeonghan pleaded with you until you finally took his hand and allowed him to lead you away.

You weren’t sure where he was taking you but it seemed to be the left annex of the manor where he usually stayed during his visits. Without question, you followed him until he led you into the drawing room and pulled you in with him.

“Seungcheol and Mingyu, stay out here and stand at least ten metres from this door,” Jeonghan instructed. “You do not hear whatever sound will come from this room. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guards bowed and obeyed his directions.

Jeonghan then led you into the centre of the room and you searched his face for an explanation. He took your hands into his, rubbed his thumb across your skin in a soothing manner and said, “I can’t even begin to understand the pain that you’re going through, but it’s just you and me in this room. It’s just you and me in this building. So, go ahead and release the grief that you’re keeping at bay. No one here will think of you as weak. Cry. Scream. Hit me if it helps. Just… don’t keep it inside you like this.”

At a loss for words, all you did was gaze at your joined hands.

“If it helps, I won’t even look at you,” he implored and closed his eyes. “I can even turn around,” he declared and did as he said. When he still couldn’t feel any movement from you, he grew even more desperate. “Look, I’ll leave. I’ll stand with the guards and let you be if you don’t want to appear weak in front of me. I’ll be on my way.”

Jeonghan barely took a step before you grabbed his wrist with both of your hands like your life depended on it. “Don’t you dare look at me,” you begged, voice filled with agony as tears spilled from the corner of your eyes. There was no stopping now that your grief had breached the surface and you hung tighter onto him as your legs gave way.

“It’s a promise,” he assured you, clutching your hands with his free hand.

“Don’t even bother trying to hear me!” you cried hysterically. Jeonghan repeatedly reassured you as your screams echoed through the room.

He didn’t know how much time had passed but eventually you finally stopped crying. When he turned to face you, his heart broke to see you filled with so much anguish. Jeonghan swore then that he would never allow anything to hurt you like this ever again.

“Jeonghan, I’m tired,” you croaked out. “I want to retire to my room, but I can’t seem to move.”

“Forgive me,” he bowed and gathered you into his arms. “I will take you back.”

“I don’t want anyone to see,” you whined like a child, but that was the least of your worries. You didn’t want to appear weak, especially in front of your brother who needed you the most.

“I understand,” Jeonghan nodded and called for his guards. He instructed them to clear the path and asked them to make sure that your brother would be otherwise preoccupied. “I have handled it. All you need to do is close your eyes and hold on to me.”

Far too tired to argue or come up with a retort, you permitted him to accompany you back to your quarters and thanked him for his efforts.

As the days passed, Jeonghan continued to look after you and in no time at all, the air between you had changed once more. Certainly on your end. Conversations flowed freely, even in person and the fluttering butterflies and sparks that had been lacking previously, suddenly appeared.

It was then that you realised that you had fallen in love with Jeonghan.

At first, you tried to deny it. There was no way your feelings had changed so suddenly. But, had it really been that sudden? It was a fact that you started to see him differently once you started to exchange letters, finding him far more interesting after you took the time to get to know him, and since actions spoke louder than words, it should have been no surprise that he eventually carved his presence into your heart.

After you became aware of your feelings, there was no escaping Jeonghan. His presence plagued you day and night, especially since he decided to stay another month to help prepare for Joshua’s succession to the Dukedom. It was starting to drive you mad, keeping your feelings to yourself, so you made the decision to let Jeonghan know how you felt about him.

That was, until you found out how he felt about you first.

It was the day before Joshua’s succession ceremony and you were on your way to see your brother in his office when you overheard their conversation from outside the door.

“I see you and _____ have become rather close lately,” Joshua stated, a teasing tone to his voice.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Jeonghan laughed a little.

“Have you grown fond of her?” your brother asked and you knew what he meant by his question. With bated breath and heart beating hard in your chest, you leaned closer to the door to hear Jeonghan’s answer.

“You know that I am bound to her by duty,” Jeonghan sighed and continued to speak some more but you could no longer hear what else he was saying. All you heard and felt was your heart shattering into pieces and you couldn’t stand to be there anymore, running all the way back to your room as tears streamed down your face.

You were such a fool for falling in love with him when it wasn’t love that intertwined him with you. Once you were all cried out, you cast your love for him out of your heart and left it hollow as you pieced its parts back together.

That day, you swore that Jeonghan would never be in your heart ever again.

Jeonghan is no fool.

As Crown Prince, he’s knowledgeable when it comes to all important matters concerning the Empire. But, when it concerns the matters of the heart, it seems that he still has a lot to learn.

This is blatantly obvious when it concerns you.

Jeonghan knows that something has changed in his relationship with you, especially if your one sentence replies to his letters are anything to go by. He could write anything between a page to ten pages long about various subjects, but your reply is always the same.

Everything is going well, Crown Prince Jeonghan.

Based on that sentence alone, Jeonghan comes to two conclusions:

You are a terrible liar

Something is definitely amiss

He sits back on his desk, mountains of paperwork long forgotten as he rubs his temple in frustration. The dread and worry within him continues to grow, not just because of the impending engagement announcement scheduled in a couple of days but more so because of his feelings for you.

Sighing, Jeonghan tries to recall when your attitude and behaviour towards him began to change, deducing that it was the day before your brother Joshua inherited the Dukedom and after the conversation Jeonghan had with him.

“I see you and _____ have become rather close lately,” Joshua stated, a teasing tone to his voice.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Jeonghan laughed a little.

“Have you grown fond of her?” Joshua asked, seriously this time.

“You know that I am bound to her by duty,” Jeonghan sighed.

“And is it still just duty that binds you to her?”

“You’re insufferable and I would’ve hung you if you weren’t my friend,” Jeonghan replied playfully. “Fine, I admit it. I have grown rather fond of her. It’s not like I could help it. She…”

Suddenly, a memory of the faint smell of your perfume from right outside Joshua’s office comes to the forefront of his mind and everything starts to become clear.

You overheard him.

There is no other explanation that comes close to this. Though he’s found the catalyst for the change, Jeonghan still doesn’t understand why you’re reacting the way that you are. Is it because you only heard part of the conversation and had been upset about it? Or is it because you heard everything he had to say and decided to distance yourself since you didn’t return his feelings?

Whatever the case is, though he hopes it isn’t the latter, he has no time to sit around fiddling his thumbs and wallowing in sorrow. With so little time left before the engagement announcement, Jeonghan needs to make amends and work things through with you, before your relationship becomes broken beyond repair.

With that in mind, he summons his butler and organises some gifts to be sent to the Lombardi Estate where you’re currently staying, even though he knows it will be futile since you are someone who is not so easily swayed by such gestures. But, he hopes to at least get a different reaction than the one you’ve been giving him, preferring your anger over your indifference.

Jeonghan isn’t surprised to see the gifts returned back to the Palace a few hours later. However, he is surprised to see Duke Joshua waiting there for him.

“Did _____ send you to have a word with me?” Jeonghan sighs as he pours a drink for the both of them in the drawing room.

“No, though she did say that she doesn’t require this grand gesture and assured that she’ll be performing her duty well,” Joshua snickers before quickly settling down when Jeonghan narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m here with a solution.”

“Admittedly, I’m willing to try anything at this point,” Jeonghan grumbles.

“Take her out to the Valentine's Festival tomorrow.”

“Will that really work?”

Joshua shrugs, “You know what they say, it’s a magical time and Eros always blesses the celebrants with love.”

Jeonghan doubts his chances. “I don’t know if that’s possible for either of us.”

“What have you got to lose?” Joshua challenges, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “I know my sister. Take her to the Festival and it’ll all work out.”

During breakfast the next day, your brother Joshua drops a letter beside you before he excuses himself from the Dining Hall. The Red Imperial Seal on it lets you know that it’s a letter from Jeonghan. Every fibre of your being wants to ignore it and rip it into shreds but you can’t seem to do it.

With only a day left before your engagement announcement at the Imperial Banquet, it could contain something important, so you open it reluctantly.

Dearest _____,

I would be honoured if you would accompany me tonight to experience what the Valentine’s Festival has to offer.

If you are so inclined, I have sent some commoners’ clothing to serve as a disguise and I will be waiting for you at the entrance of your Estate as soon as the sun sets.

Don’t worry, I have permission from the Duke.

Yours, Jeonghan.

With a sigh, you place the letter back on the table and reach for your cup of tea. Placing it on your lips, you take a sip and let the disappointment of the peppermint set in. You haven’t been able to drink chamomile for awhile now as it reminds you of bitter memories with Jeonghan.

As you lower the cup back on the table, you try to come up with a dozen excuses to decline him but find yourself unable to do so. His invitation is far too tempting, especially since you’ve always been curious about the Valentine’s Festival.

The Valentine’s Festival is an annual celebration held for Eros, the God of love, and is one of the most popular and grand events in the Attaca Empire.

Streets in the Capital are lined up with various stalls filled with food, jewellery and other merchandise, and the inns and boutiques are filled to the brim. There are dancers, magicians, actors and singers on almost every corner of the Square and the city is alive for most of the day and well into night. It’s easily the busiest and most profitable event in the Empire, lasting a whole week and ending with a banquet hosted by the Imperial Family.

Nobles and Commoners from all over the Empire converge in Lombardi to see what the Festival has to offer and hope to leave with their hearts full; it is a celebration of love after all.

You’ve never felt that there was a point in you partaking in the festivities and celebrating love since you’ve been betrothed to Jeonghan since before you were even born. Duty is the reason you’re bound to spend the rest of your lives together and not the other four letter word everybody else yearns for. Just like he said all those months ago.

Despite all your efforts, you haven’t been able to forget your feelings for him. Every time you read his letters, your affection for him grows and you can never throw them away, no matter how hard you try. And despite your efforts, Jeonghan refuses to give up, not allowing you to stray far away from him.

Why is he doing this? Is this really all just because of his duty? Is there really no way that his heart beats for you like yours does for him?

He confuses you to no end and you don’t know if this is something you can live with as long as you’re with him. You have to know how Jeonghan really feels and in doing so, you hope that your heart will finally be at peace. Grabbing the pen and paper that Tia had prepared, you write your reply and agree to meet him.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Jeonghan greets you once you’re within his reach.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of black trousers and matching black button down shirt, his top two buttons are undone and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal veins that run from his arm down to his hand. With his hair slicked back, you think it’s rather unfair how dashing he looks in these plain clothes.

Compared to Jeonghan, you’re wearing a red floor length summer dress, short sleeves sitting just below your shoulders and white flowers adorning the whole fabric.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d come,” he says, tearing his gaze away from your exposed collarbone. “Also, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Honestly, I didn’t think I would come either,” you admit with a small smile. “But, the offer of seeing the Valentine’s Festival is far too tempting. Is it just us two or will there be guards with us?”

Stepping closer, Jeonghan offers to hoist you up on the horse and he’s thankful that you don’t decline him. “The guards will be watching from afar,” he answers as he settles you on the horse. “They won’t come unless I call them so it will be mostly just us. I didn’t want to attract any attention to us so we can enjoy everything freely.”

“Jeonghan, you could be wearing rags and the people will still recognise the Crown Prince,” you scoff. Only a blind person wouldn’t see and know who he is, with his perfect handsome face.

“That won’t be the case,” he assures you as he mounts the same horse and seats himself behind you. Pointing to the ring on his right pinky finger, he explains further, “Jihoon imbued some magic in here that helps disguise my face. Only you can see me as I am.”

“The Royal Mage?”

“That’s him.”

“Do you think he can give me one as well?” you ask as calmly as you can, considering your proximity as Jeonghan starts the horse on a light trot. He’s sitting so close that you can feel his breath against your hair.

Jeonghan slightly tightens his arms around you, on the guise of making sure you don’t fall off, even though he truly just wants to be closer to you. “I’ve already asked him to put some spells on the engagement ring I’ll be giving to you tomorrow,” he answers, slightly flinching at the word engagement as he doesn’t know of your feelings yet. “I can ask him for something else if you wish?”

“No, the ring is fine,” you reply, trying to hide your hurt from feeling him flinch against you. The night is off to a terrible start but you promised that you would try to enjoy yourself at the very least, so you push yourself to move on. “So, what exactly will we be doing at the Festival?”

With a sigh, Jeonghan collects himself. The night is only beginning and he won’t lose hope just yet. “There’s lots of shows and dances for us to see along with the fireworks,” he reveals. Smiling, he adds, “We’ll also do lots of eating of course.”

You can’t help but laugh then and if you turn your head slightly, you would’ve seen the relief on Jeonghan’s face. “Well, now you’re speaking my language,” you state, covering your mouth with your hand as you giggle. “Let’s get moving then. There’s no time to waste.”

Bending slightly, Jeonghan whispers in your ear, “Yes, dear.”

The term of endearment takes you by surprise and you have to stop yourself from turning to look at him, not wanting to reveal how much it affects you. You need not bother really because Jeonghan clearly sees the way your hands cup your heating cheeks in an attempt to cool them and he has to spend the whole journey to the town square stopping himself from kissing your adorable face.

It isn’t long until you reach the Capital, the trip feeling shorter than you thought due to the conversation freely flowing just like it used to. Laughs and banters were shared and not a hint of awkwardness was found.

Leaving the horse in an alley, Jeonghan takes you by the hand and leads you around the Festival. Like a seasoned veteran, he takes you around from stall to stall, seeing what the merchants have to offer, before finding you both a seat at the small outdoor theatre where a play is about to begin.

“I didn’t think you’d know your way around,” you mention before taking a bite from the skewer he bought. “Am I correct in saying that you’ve done this before?”

Jeonghan swallows his food and answers, “You’d be correct. I’ve been out and about once or twice before.”

Biting your lip, you decide to test the waters. “Accompanying other ladies, I presume?” you ask.

“You are the first,” Jeonghan clarifies quickly. “I haven’t taken anyone else, nor do I plan to take anybody else but you.”

You accept his answer with a small smile and turn your attention to the commencing performance.

Try as he might, Jeonghan cannot look away from you even if he wanted to, finding you far more captivating than the play. He watches the way your eyes sparkle and the way your smile grows in wonder, etching it in his memory in the off chance that the misunderstanding between you doesn’t get resolved.

When the play finishes, you applaud and join the audience in a standing ovation, telling Jeonghan how great the play was and all of your thoughts about it. He doesn’t have a single clue what you’re talking about since he saw none of it but he listens intently, smiling at how passionate you are about it.

Suddenly, a group of musicians make their way onto the stage and the previous performers work to remove the wooden crates that were used as seats, turning a portion of the Square onto a dance floor. Not wanting to waste the opportunity he’s been given, Jeonghan bows in front of you and offers his hand.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

“Jeonghan,” you whisper so that the crowd doesn’t hear. “It isn’t that I don’t want to dance with you, but I don’t know how to do this kind of dance.”

“I don’t see that as a problem since I can lead you,” Jeonghan assures you.

Reluctantly, you give him your hand which he gladly accepts. “I believe you said that you hadn’t taken a lady here before,” you state, pout growing as he snickers at your miniature tantrum. “How is it that you know this dance then?”

Holding your right hand tightly with his left hand, he places your other hand on his shoulder and rests his free hand on your lower back. “I learnt through watching,” Jeonghan smirks and gently ushers you closer to him until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Besides, I’m the Crown Prince, I can do anything.”

“Including making a fool out of me, I bet.”

“Sweetheart, that would be impossible,” Jeonghan utters and just as you open your mouth to try and say something, the music starts and he begins to lead you.

The dance seems simple enough so far, starting off with the basic steps of the waltz which you’re thankful for, as Jeonghan’s close proximity continues to distract you. “Why do you do that?” you query, your burning curiosity getting the better of you.

To your chagrin, Jeonghan feigns innocence. “I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea what it is you are referring to, my darling.”

“That! It is exactly that! Why do you use every form of endearment and not call me by name?”

“We agreed to only do so in private,” Jeonghan teasingly reminds you. “On top of that, I quite enjoy” —his hands travel to your waist and lifts you into the air— “seeing the way you look so flustered.”

At this revelation, he gets a perfect view of your gaping mouth before he has to lift you in the air again.

“I knew it,” you scoff upon your soft landing, thanks to Jeonghan’s sturdy hands. “Two can play this game, you know.”

“Oh, you think so?” Jeonghan challenges as he signals that another lift is coming.

“I do, my love,” you reply coyly just as he lifts you again, and you can tell that you’ve caught him off guard from the way his hands slip slightly, almost dropping you. “Honey, you almost dropped me,” you scold, playfully smacking him on the chest once you’re safely back on your own two feet.

“The fault is yours for surprising me,” Jeonghan mutters, biting back the smile threatening to take over his face.

Guiding you to stand beside him and turning you to face the opposite direction he is, Jeonghan places his arm in front of you to hold your hip that’s furthest from him and you mirror his motion, allowing him to turn you both in a circular motion.

“I didn’t think anything could surprise you, dear,” you tease, feeling his hand tighten on your hip.

“Admittedly, I didn’t think so either,” Jeonghan grumbles, slightly pushing at your hip so you can both change the direction you’re facing. “At least until I met you.”

You’re about to respond when Jeonghan turns you again and you find yourself facing another gentleman. It seems the dance includes a change in partner ever so often until you arrive back at your original partner. It’s unfair of him to say such a thing just before he hands you off, further confusing you and igniting the feelings you have for him once more.

Taking a chance to look at him, you find him staring back at you. His new dance partner is speaking with him and he seems to be conversing with her but his gaze on you is unwavering and you are trapped in his spell. Unable to look away even if you wanted to and even if you have to because of the steps of the dance, your eyes find him again and again through the crowd, feeling even closer to him despite the distance.

And when the dance finally comes to a close, you end up back in his arms like you were always meant to be there. Like Jeonghan was always the one meant to hold you.

This feeling of uncertainty is foreign to you. All this time, you thought you knew how he feels about you, but his words and actions beg to differ.

However, it matters not, until you know the exact reasons for the way he’s behaving.

Is he still only motivated by duty? Or did the premise of the Valentine’s Festival finally open up his heart?

Whatever the case may be, it is something you can no longer ignore and your growing feelings for him is something you can no longer deny.

“Why are you doing this to me?” you ask and Jeonghan is taken aback. “Why do you confuse me so?”

Your inner turmoil is written as clear as day on your face and Jeonghan wishes for nothing more than to be able to gather you in his arms and confess his feelings to you. The thought alone scares him half to death but it’s not as frightening as the thought of spending the rest of your lives together with your cold indifference towards him.

What’s the worst that can happen?

Of course, there is a chance that once he finally reveals his true feelings that you may not feel the same way about him. If that is the case, it’s still possible for you to grow to love him, further down the line as you both grow older. But, Jeonghan knows that if he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity he’s been given, your heart may close the door on him forever.

“_____, listen—”

“Jeonghan, I—”

“Everyone, the fireworks will begin in a few minutes!”

Sighing, you lower your head onto Jeonghan’s chest. “I know we need to talk but I also want to see the fireworks,” you whine.

Cupping your face in his hands, Jeonghan raises your head so that you can look at him. “We can watch the fireworks and talk after,” he concedes, but it’s worth it when your eyes light up like Christmas morning. Placing his hands gingerly on your shoulders, he instructs, “Please stay right here and wait for me. I’ll be right back with some refreshments.”

“I’ll wait,” you assure him.

“I’ll only be a minute, please stay right where I can see you.”

Gently squeezing your hand, Jeonghan reluctantly turns away from you and heads to find the nearest pub. Every now and then, he turns to check that you’re still right where he left you. This time, when he turns, his brows furrowed in worry when he no longer sees you in his field of vision as the crowd fills the square.

Drinks forgotten, Jeonghan weaves through the crowd in search of you. He calls for you multiple times to no avail and even as he reaches the spot where he left you, there’s no sign of you anywhere. It’s just his luck that the fireworks then commence and it drowns out his voice as he begins to call for you once more. Cursing, he makes his way through the sea of bodies to continue his search.

The thought of something terrible happening to you fills him with dread, making him sick to his stomach. He pleads with Eros to help him find you and his prayer is answered when a gust of wind carries along petals that land in your vicinity. Bristling, he makes his way over to where you are.

“Oh Jeonghan, there you are,” you greet but your smile fades as soon as you see the expression on his face. It’s one that you’ve never seen on his usually bright face, at least not directed at you. “Is something the matter?”

Jeonghan remains silent as he grabs hold of your wrist and leads you out of the overcrowded square. You didn’t dare to resist when it’s clear that right now, he is not one to be messed with. Soon enough, you reach your destination, finding yourself in a secluded alley in the square away from prying eyes and eager ears.

He all but flings you in the alley and your hands brace themselves on the cool brick wall to stop and steady yourself. “What in the world were you thinking?!” he asks, livid. “Or was it that you weren’t thinking at all?”

“I have no idea what it is you’re referring to—”

“I only asked one thing of you,” he states calmly but you can see how furious he is beneath the surface, his eyes blazing with fire. “One direction that even a child could follow and they would have listened.”

Ah, it’s finally dawned on you what makes him so angry.

“I don’t understand why it’s such an issue—”

“You don’t understand why it’s an issue?!”

“—I only went to a better spot for the fireworks,” you finish explaining despite Jeonghan talking over you. “It’s not like you couldn’t see me—”

Jeonghan laughs out loud but there is no mirth to it. “That is precisely it!” he snarled. “I couldn’t see you anywhere I looked. I called out for you so many times and received no response back. I was so worried and I thought I had lost you—”

“And why does that matter?” you argue and the question renders Jeonghan speechless, but you’re not done yet. “Why does it matter if you lose me? Why do you care?”

At this, Jeonghan could no longer remain silent. “I beg your pardon,” he protests. “Of course, I care about you.”

“But, only because of your duty,” you remind him as you roll your eyes.

“No, it goes far beyond that.”

This is a game that you no longer wish to play.

“That’s not what you said that day,” you reveal, finally admitting that you overheard his conversation with your brother that day. “Don’t even think of lying to me because I heard everything.”

Now that you’ve confirmed his earlier assumption, Jeonghan proceeds, so that he can now get an answer as to how you feel about him. “And, what exactly did you hear?”

“That you’re only bound to me by duty.”

“And?” he prods, impatiently.

“What do you mean, ‘and’?” you ask, confused as to where he’s heading with the conversation.

“I did say that” —he crosses his arms— “but what about the rest of it?”

With a pout, you answer confidently, “You didn’t say anything else.”

“Yes, I did,” he declares with a sadistic calm.

“No, you didn’t.” You stand your ground but that is the last straw for Jeonghan.

“Yes, I did!” he yells in frustration, grabbing at his hair. “I admitted that I had grown fond of you and it was something that had been beyond my control.”

“What?” you wonder, more to yourself than anything.

Already having gone this far, Jeonghan doesn’t hold himself back any longer, baring his heart out after coming close to losing you. “I said that you had me falling in love with you with no hopes of ever getting up, ever since the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

No, there’s not a chance that this is real. You’re sure of it. Yet, you find yourself asking, “You love me?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan vows with no hesitation. “Despite everything, I fall more and more in love with you and right now, as you stand before me, I have never been more in love with you.”

No matter how hard you search, there’s no sign of a lie on his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Actually, I did.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I truly did,” Jeonghan says, smug. “I wrote them in every letter I sent you since that day I admitted to my own feelings.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’ve never lied—”

“You have, when you lied about being my partner for my debutante ball,” you remind him, brow raised in challenge.

Jeonghan bites his lip and moves closer to you, eliminating the space between your bodies. “I was merely delaying the truth that time,” he jokes. “But, I really did let you know in my last letters. You would’ve known if you had read them.”

“I did—”

Jeonghan interrupts, taking your hands in his as he says, “Enough about the letters. _____, I’ve finally told you how I truly feel about you. Please, stop torturing me and tell me how you feel about me.”

“I—”

“I don’t think it matters how the young lady feels since she’ll be coming with us and you won’t be alive anymore to see her again,” a stranger interrupts and Jeonghan is quick to shield you behind him. More thugs turn up and Jeonhan slowly retreats until you’re squeezed between him and the wall.

Jeonghan doesn’t miss the way you tremble in fear and he knows that he has to deal with them as soon as possible. He almost lost you once today and he’d be damned if he lets it happen a second time. Especially now that he’s confessed his feelings to you.

“Close your eyes and cover your ears,” Jeonghan instructs but you shake your head vehemently. “Please, listen to me just this once. I don’t want you to see this.”

“Call for Seungcheol,” you plead, holding on to his arm. “There’s far too many of them. We can wait until he gets here.”

“It’ll be too late by then,” Jeonghan sighs. “Close your eyes. I promise that no harm will come to you.”

“What about you?” you caution, tears flowing freely down your face. The love of your life has finally confessed that he feels the same about you but why is fate so cruel to put you in this position?

“There’s no need to worry,” he assures you as he draws out his sword. “Now, do as I say. I won’t take long.”

Eventually, you relent and let go of his arm. Taking one final look at him, Jeonghan places a chaste kiss on your forehead, forcing your eyes closed as he moves your hands to cover your ears tight. When you feel him pull away, you almost defy him once more but ultimately know that you’ll only be in his way, increasing his chance of getting hurt.

So, you stay right where you are and do exactly as Jeonghan says, praying to Eros to return the one that you love safely.

You don’t know how much time has passed but you eventually feel Jeonghan’s warm yet wet hands pull your hands away from your ears, letting you know that the ordeal is over. When you open your eyes, you see his shirt drenched in blood despite the colour of the material.

“You’re bleeding,” you cry out, hands reaching out to check on him, but his hands stop you from doing so.

“It’s not all mine,” he assures you only to be met with the roll of your eyes.

“That doesn’t make it any better,” you scold.

“I’m fine—”

“No, you’re not!” you exclaim through your tears. “You’re hurt and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t wandered off in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this alley and—”

“If you hadn’t wandered off, I wouldn’t have had an opportunity to finally tell you how I feel about you.”

“Is that even important right now?” you sob unceremoniously into your hands. “Now, I know how it feels.”

“What do you mean?” Jeonghan asks.

“I almost lost you and I haven’t even had the chance to tell you how I feel about you.”

Jeonghan’s heart picks up speed and it feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. This is the moment he’s been waiting for and he can’t believe you both had to risk your lives in order for it to happen. “And how do you feel about me?”

“Your Highness!” Seungcheol calls from the entrance of the alley before you can answer Jeonghan. “I’ve finally found you both. My apologies for arriving late.”

“Actually, you’re far too early,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and you have to cover your mouth to hold down your laugh upon seeing Seungcheol’s confused face. “Did you bring my horse?”

The guard nods. “I’ve also brought a carriage for Lady _____,” he adds. “Shall I summon the physician to their Estate?”

“That’s not necessary,” you decline as you are unscathed. “Please summon them to the Palace instead along with the Royal Mage. His Highness may need some healing magic in time for our Engagement Announcement tomorrow.”

“Yes, m’lady.” Seungcheol bows. “Your carriage has arrived and is ready to escort you back.”

Sighing, Jeonghan lowers his head onto your shoulder and your hand reaches out to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Won’t you consider coming back to the Palace with me?” he entreats and feels you shake your head to decline him. “We haven’t finished our conversation yet. Must I really wait till the Banquet to hear your answer? Must you really torture me again?”

“Must you be so dramatic?” you tease him and he nips at your shoulder in retaliation. You have to commend him, he’s grown rather bold ever since he confessed his love for you. It seems he no longer wants to waste any time and frankly, since you feel exactly the same towards him, you don’t want to waste another second without him either. “You can always come to see me before tomorrow.”

Jeonghan lifts his ahead, adorable confusion on his face and you can’t help but giggle. “How will I see you before tomorrow?” he asks, tilting his head.

“My balcony faces the Glass House in the Estate,” you whisper in his ear, bidding him farewell with a light kiss on his cheek. “You’re the Crown Prince. Surely you’re smart enough to figure it out?”

He is and he can’t wait.

It’s when you’re brushing your hair by your vanity before retiring for the night when you hear the knock on your bedroom window. Spotting his familiar figure through the mirror, you place the brush on the marble surface and make your way to let him in. Pulse racing as you unlock the window, you don’t dare to look at his face and walk back to the centre of room, only turning towards him once he’s let himself in and closed the window behind him.

Jeonghan takes his time studying you, gaze instantly drawn to the way you stare at the floor once more instead of him, just like you used to. Eyes drifting lower, he spots your slightly parted lips and he has to stop himself from reaching out and running his thumb across your bottom lip. His gaze travels lower once more, breath hitching at the sight of the top of your breasts due to the low neckline of your nightgown. Seeing the way your chest heaves from your erratic breathing makes something inside him snap and he shoves his hands in his pockets, taking big strides until he’s standing right in front of you.

“Such a cruel woman you are.” He breaks the silence, pushing your chin up with his finger so that you finally look at him. “Inviting me here and making me wait for your attention. Do you know how agonising it is when you look as delectable as you do? But, we’re not quite there yet, are we?”

Your attempt to look away from him is thwarted when he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and you’re forced to endure the intense regard in which he holds you. “If anyone’s waited long enough, it’s me,” you say in hopes to placate him.

However, it has the opposite effect on Jeonghan. “That’s rich coming from you,” he retorts. “Especially after I professed my love for you today. If I recall correctly, I’m yet to hear about your feelings towards me.”

“I’m afraid,” you say truthfully.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t express myself well with words,” you confess. “I’m afraid my words would be insufficient to describe what it is I truly feel for you.”

Jeonghan shifts impossibly closer to you eliminating the space between you. Cupping your face in his hands, he leans in closer and ghosts your lips with his. “Hm, you always were better with your actions,” he breathes, thumb skimming your bottom lip like he fantasised, smearing your lip tint a little. “Would you prefer to show me instead?”

“Yes,” you sigh, eyes immediately closing.

Jeonghan’s lips hesitantly touches yours in a feather light kiss and it’s much too soft and quick for your liking. He moves to pull away, testing the waters but he doesn’t get far when you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him once more. This time, the kiss you share is more intense, carrying your emotions with it and when they finally reach him, Jeonghan becomes bolder and returns your kiss with the same fervor.

His kisses grow hungrier and more heated each time, almost devouring you whole but you are insatiable. You crave to taste more of him, sliding your hands up and locking your arms behind his neck, pulling him further into you. Wrapping his arms around your middle, he holds you tight and you pull away in a gasp when you feel him, half hard and large against your hip.

Not liking the separation, Jeonghan dives in and takes the chance to shove his tongue in your gaping mouth, intertwining with yours in a perfect dance. His eager hands travel from your hips to your bottom, groping and kneading its cheeks before venturing further south. When they land behind your thighs, he grabs hold and lifts you onto him as he walks towards your bed.

Jeonghan sits down on the edge of your bed with you on top of him and you shift your legs to straddle him comfortably. You kiss him again and again, timing a third kiss with the roll of your hips and you feel his excitement grow against your centre. Impatient, your hands scramble to untuck his shirt from his trousers, pulling it over his head to toss to the other side of the room.

“Oh fuck,” you swear at the sight of his toned abdomen, not caring for how unladylike you are becoming. Biting your lip, your fingertips glide across his skin as you take him in.

This new side to you is enthralling and Jeonghan feels proud knowing that only he is privy to it. That you are here, completely and utterly enamored by him and him alone. Jeonghan leans back on his elbows watching you with eyes full of aroused curiosity. “Your turn.” He nods in your direction and you comply.

If it were anybody else who asked, you know you would have hesitated to no end. But, Jeonghan makes you feel brave. He makes you feel loved. He makes you feel desired. Grabbing the hem of your nightgown, you shimmy out of it at an excruciatingly slow pace, noticing the way Jeonghan eyes you like a man starved, his breath hitching at every inch of skin you reveal.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes out and it diminishes whatever insecurity existed that was begging you to cover yourself up. Sitting up, he kisses you lasciviously, gripping you tight as he pivots and pushes you into the mattress. His fingers make their way between your bodies, toying with the waistband of your underwear, before pulling the lewdly soaked material down your legs. “Move up on the bed, lie down on the pillows and spread your legs. I want to see you.”

Taking a deep breath, you do as he says, watching with interest as he sheds the rest of his clothing. Jeonghan can’t help but stare too long at your inviting pussy and he doesn’t miss the way your legs quiver in anticipation. Like a predator hunting its prey, he gets on the bed and crawls slowly towards you and fits himself between your legs. He lowers his body until your chest to chest and meets your lips again in a fiery kiss.

This time, he doesn’t stay on your lips too long, desperate to touch and feel more of you, kissing along your jaw and down where your neck meets your shoulder. He marks his place on the juncture of your neck, sucking and nipping until a purple bruise is left in its wake. Lifting his head slightly, he marvels at the view of your breasts, eyes rolling back before diving in and taking your right nipple in his mouth.

His tongue darts out to kitten lick at your wetted bud, blowing air on it before sucking it back into his mouth. Being the gentleman that he is, he dares not to neglect your other breast, palming and fondling it before he switches and pays attention to it. Your ragged breaths bounces off the walls in your room and he uses the sounds to spur him on along with how your body twists and squirms beneath him.

“Relax _____,” Jeonghan coos at you. “I’m just as… new to this as you are.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you murmur. “But, I guess my education on this was limited compared to yours.”

Sitting back on his knees, he grabs hold of his cock, groaning as he strokes himself a few times before he guides himself to slide between your folds. Watching him with keen eyes, you grow more desperate for him, mouth hanging open in a silent plea. Once he’s well lubricated from your juices, he aligns himself by your entrance, preparing himself to enter your glistening trove.

“This is the last chance you have to refuse me,” Jeonghan rasps out. “If you don’t, I’ll be taking away your virtue and will never let you go.”

“No one is taking my virtue away,” you mewled, reaching for his free hand and guiding it up your body to rest on your breast. “I am freely giving it to you, along with my love. So, don’t you dare even consider letting me go.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeonghan grits his teeth as he pushes the head of his cock through your cunt, straining to hold himself back from fully impaling you on his cock to avoid hurting you.

“You can keep going,” you nod, breathing becoming ragged even as you try to calm yourself.

His hands reach for yours and intertwine them together, pinning them on either side of your head as he lowers himself until all of his weight is on you. With a shaky exhale, he sinks in further but still not all the way, peppering your chest with kisses in apology as he waits for you to accommodate him.

Tears pool at the corner of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and you don’t have the strength to hold them back. Jeonghan whispers words of affirmation onto your skin and your heart swells in your chest. You seek out his lips and he gladly obliges you, kissing languidly until the current stretch is bearable.

“With all that I am, I love you and I’m yours,” you confess, whimpering as Jeonghan pushes deeper as a result.

A moan of your name from deep within his chest slips from his lips and he’s unable to hold himself back even if he wanted to, sheathing himself to the hilt inside you. The burning sensation of the stretch makes you tremble but it’s nothing compared to the feel of fullness inside you.

Releasing one of your hands, Jeonghan cups your cheek and kisses you hard, wanting to alleviate your pain. When you feel his cock throb inside your warm walls, you inadvertently clench around him and the last of his control snaps.

“Love, please tell me I can move,” he growls and you respond by shakily hooking your legs around his waist, taking him even deeper with a roll of your hips.

Jeonghan takes this as his cue, slowly drawing his cock out and harshly slamming back in. Crying out his name in ecstasy, your hands move to rest on his shoulders, nails digging in as his pace increases. An intense heat starts to build inside you, arching your back from the mattress as your hips frantically grind against him to match his rhythm.

“Jeonghan, I…” you sob, the intense heat taking all over your body. “I can… feel something… something is coming.”

“Gods, I feel it too,” he croaks and relentlessly drives himself inside you. Winding his arms around your middle, he holds tight and moves your body the way he wants so that you can both have the release you’re desperately seeking.

It’s when Jeonghan’s lips brushes by your ear, whispering ‘I love you’ with a perfectly timed shift of his hips, that the coil inside you snaps, eyes rolling to the back of your head and body shivering as your orgasm consumes you, a litany of his name echoing in the room.

At the feeling of your pulsating walls around his cock, his movements begin to falter. When you profess your love for him, he careens clean off the edge, hips jerking as he comes and a sigh of your name escaping from his lips as he paints your walls with his hot, white release.

Jeonghan buries his face in the juncture of your neck, hot breath fanning your skin as you rake your fingers through his damp hair. You stay together like this until your breathing evens out, not caring about your sweaty skin or the stickiness between your legs.

Then, he slowly pulls out his softening cock, watching your face for any signs of discomfort along the way. Planting a kiss on your shoulder, Jeonghan leaves the bed for a moment, fetching a towel and basin filled with water from the bath. With utmost care, he wipes the mess clean from your body. Once he’s put the soiled cloth away, he joins you back on the bed, dragging your body until you’re tight against his chest, whispering his love for you repeatedly until slumber comes for you.

When morning comes, it is anything but quiet. It starts off with your maid Tia dramatically dropping a basin upon catching you tangled in bed with the Crown Prince and Jeonghan being caught sneaking out the balcony by Joshua who’s having his morning coffee by the adjacent balcony. Jeonghan avoids being scolded because he pulls rank with the Duke, but you’re not so lucky. He bids you farewell with a kiss before heading back to the Palace to prepare for the Imperial Banquet.

It all happens quickly after that, spending most of the day getting pampered and leaving you with no time to even think about the events of the previous night. Upon your arrival at the Palace, you’re quickly ushered to stand in front of the door to the Great Hall where Jeonghan is already waiting.

Grabbing your hand, he gently kisses the back of it before planting another one on your cheek. Jeonghan stares longingly into your eyes before disrupting the connection by breaking into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“Nothing, I’m just happy,” he beams, bending to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m glad that it’s not just duty that binds us together and that we’re actually fated to each other.”

“As am I,” you assure him, turning to kiss him on the cheek. “My love has always been you and it will always be you.”

“Always,” Jeonghan vows, lifting his head so that you can see his sincerity.

You return the promise with a kiss, along with a silent prayer to Eros in thanks and your hearts have never been fuller.

please do not copy/repost/translate my work without my permission

2K notes · View notes

skele-ghost · 9 months

Text

Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)

Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.

Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering

Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.

That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.

You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.

And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.

You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.

That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.

“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.

And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.

You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.

It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.

You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.

The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.

You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.

It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.

They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.

Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.

You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.

You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.

And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.

You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.

As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.

You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.

But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?

You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.

A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.

Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.

He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.

It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.

“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.

“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.

You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.

“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.

Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.

“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”

You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.

“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”

You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”

His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.

He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.

“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.

“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”

“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.

Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.

The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.

“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.

Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.

You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.

Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”

He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.

“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“

All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.

“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”

You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.

You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“

His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.

Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.

You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.

“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.

“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Commander?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”

You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”

“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.

“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”

“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”

You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.

“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”

You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”

#phillip graves #Phillip graves/reader #Graves/Reader #graves x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x y/n #shadow company #have I ever told y’all how much I hate the name phillip #honestly it’s a turn off ngl #but graves is cute even if he is a war criminal <3 #cod omegaverse #a/b/o #omega reader #alpha!graves

580 notes · View notes

teecupangel · 5 months

Note

Proposal: instead of Desmond sets up a bakery, he sets up a new bar. But specifically manages to pull off such weird drinks from the future that everyone is fully 100% convinced that he’s really a witch.

Baker Desmond AU in Third Crusades Levant, Renaissance Italy and Colonial America

“This is witchcraft! Sorcery! The work of the devil!”

Desmond wondered if he should just book it.

Sure, it had taken time to create this bar. So many long hours finding the cheapest most okay building in a busy street. So many times talking to people to get them to open up to him and finally give his drinks a shot.

Well… more than a shot.

He knew cocktails would prove to be his selling point.

He even made mocktails for those who do not partake but he made sure they were more expensive than the usual because… well… profit.

Could Desmond be doing something else in his new lease of life?

Absolutely.

Was he going to?

No.

This was Altaïr’s territory… sorta.

Desmond had complete faith that Altaïr do as history demanded.

So Desmond could retire.

But, in all honesty…

He wished Altaïr could just assassinate Garnier de Naplouse already so he wouldn’t have to deal with this crap.

He should have just opened his bar away from Levant.

Maybe he should?

“Desmond, if you can just prove to the Grand Master’s representative that you don’t make concoction of the devil-”

The knight was one of his regulars. He was just trying to help (and keep his favorite bar alive).

But Naplouse’s representative.

He could see the greed in the man’s eyes as he continued to hurl garbage at him.

Desmond was pretty sure Naplouse didn’t even order this.

Desmond made sure he was kept busy with not being able to have enough ‘patients’ after all.

(Just because he’s not actively assassinating Altaïr’s targets doesn’t mean he would just a turn a blind eye to the atrocities he knew was happening)

No.

This man wanted to learn his secrets.

He wanted to encroach on Desmond’s hard-earned monopoly.

Desmond’s lips curved into the smile he had perfected after years of having to deal with the lowest trashes as a bartender.

“I understand.”

The greed in that man’s eyes shone brighter.

… as Desmond’s smile grew colder.

“I will pack up and leave then.”

“WHAT?!”

The exclamation of surprise came not only from the man harassing him and the knight who was trying to help him but from the three other guards who were just standing behind them.

An intimidation tactics if Desmond ever saw one.

He was sure they would trash his place if they were ordered to.

Reluctantly, of course.

But trashing one’s place was better than being called insubordinate and punished for it.

If things go to shit, Desmond could just kick all their asses and book it.

Desmond clasped his hands together as he said lightly, “Actually, someone came before and offered me a job in Ḥalab. I refused, of course.”

Which was true.

“But considering how-” Desmond stressed the word, “… unappreciated I am here.”

Desmond continued to smile as he said, “I believe it’s time for me to leave this place. Ḥalab is filled with many merchants with different ingredients I can use for my…”

Desmond glared at the greedy man as he continued to politely smile, “… concoctions.”

“Tha-that’s-” The man spluttered before shouting, “That is an admission of guilt! By not showing how you make them, you are admitting to being a devil worshiper.”

Desmond could see that none of his guards were buying that crap.

But they were powerless as well.

Desmond’s smile fell as he said, “If you’re not going to let me leave in peace, then I’ll just have to take you all down and keep you silent until I have to leave.”

“I promise not to give any of you lasting damage except you…” Desmond stared at the greedy man who flinched, “I’ll hurt you in a way that will make you remember your stupidity every single day.”

Desmond stepped towards him, making the knights take a step towards the man to protect him, the nearest one whispering, “Desmond, wai-”

“I won’t kill you.” Desmond smiled once more, making everybody freeze as a cold shudder went up their spine, “But you will waste the rest of your life wishing I had.”

That afternoon, Desmond the bartender left Acre. When the people checked his bar later that night, they saw men unconscious on the floor with one of Naplouse’s men tied to a chair, conscious but barely coherent.

Carved on his forehead was the words “1 Timothy 6:9”.

Desmond did not, in fact, go to Ḥalab.

But he did start his next bar in one of the cities that is part of the Silk Road.

#ah my bible knowledge once more comes to use #my religion teachers would be so proud /s #no altaïr in this one #i went with third crusades because #well it’s me #and also because renaissance italy would have loved desmond #and i wanted desmond to get annoyed XD #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

170 notes · View notes

sirdindjarin · 1 year

Text

Shelter - Joel Miller x Reader (Part Two)

Your easy emotions wreak havoc on Joel, and so do the people you two encounter... good thing you're there to help him.

In which our intrepid hero deals with some shit. And some 👉👌.

Masterlist ->

AO3 Link♥

RATING: Explicit. SEXUAL CONTENT: Consensual P in V, Choking Kink, Attempted Rape (not by Joel). VIOLENCE: Gore, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Death of an Animal (Deer Hunting).

TAGS: Joel Being Absolutely Whipped and Filthy-Mouthed, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Age Gap.

WC: 13k

As Joel steps through the doorway of the mom-and-pop furniture store, the glow of the gas lantern he’d found earlier is a beacon.

He rounds the edge of a gigantic, cheaply-made chest of drawers to see you asleep. The glow of the lantern casts amber light over your face. Your hair is strung across your cheek and Joel crushes a wild urge to crouch and brush it all away. He glances to the left and his heart stops for a moment when he realizes Ellie is sitting up, watching him.

“You found something,” she declares without hostility.

These girls’re too observant for me. Joel lets the silence hang for a moment before deciding how to reply.

“I’m gonna talk to your sister in the mornin'.”

“Yeah, I saw you talkin’ earlier,” she snickers, then levels him with a glare. “You better be careful. I’ve got no problem killing you myself.”

He doesn't grace that with a response.

“I notice everything. I like you, Joel, but I love my sister.” Ellie shrugs dramatically, “I’m just sayin’. I’m on her side if you pull some shit.”

“I’d expect nothin’ less, kid.” Joel’s voice strains as he lowers himself down onto the sleeping bag you’d laid out for him. He wishes you hadn’t.

Ellie shifts her attention back to her book (a new one you’d found and given to her called Nancy Drew) while Joel shuffles down into his bed.

Joel lets the faint lull of the ocean carry away his stress for the night. His eyes close but he feels the desire to look at you, just a couple of yards away. He denies the desire, squeezing his eyes tighter, and focuses instead on what he can hear. A page turns. The wind's howl over the building. The sound of your steady, peaceful breath traps his attention, and he soon drifts away.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“And how do you know it’s legitimate?” You press him.

Joel sets his hands on his hips. “I know my brother's writing.”

You chew your lip. Like Joel, the day is much colder than yesterday.

“That’s a long walk."

“That’s why I’m givin’ y’all the choice,” Joel explains. “Same deal as last time.”

Your eyes twinkle as you ask, “Ah. You’re only trying to hold up your end of the deal?”

But Joel’s desperate to keep himself from falling for your charm like he had the previous evening. Instead of rejoining with a witty comment, he simply says:

“Yeah.”

Taken slightly aback by his mood, you’re quiet. Then you turn to Ellie. “What do you want to do? If you’d rather stay here, look around this area more…” you trail off, waiting for her opinion.

Ellie’s eyes dart to Joel before answering. “I mean, I’ve never seen that far north. And we should make Joel keep his promises.”

Joel can’t help but make a pfft noise at that.

“Do you want us to come with you?” You ask him point-blank. It’s that simple for you.

And he can’t answer that. Yes, he did; and no, he didn’t. Yes, he wants the two of you to come with him. But no, he didn’t need the weakness of his growing attachment to both of you. It isn’t that simple for him, and he bristles when you try to make it so.

He raises and lowers his shoulders in a half-hearted motion. “If you come, you can always leave, but if you stay here for now, you’ll prob’ly never find it.”

Your shoulders sag at the deflection, but you’re not surprised. It had been out of character for him to have gotten so close to you last night, so it should come as no surprise when he returns to his regular, shut-everyone-out attitude.

“Okay. Good point. Ellie, if you’re not interested in staying here, that’s all I care about.”

“It’s fucking nice here. It’s so cool. But I miss people. Decent, normal people.” Ellie cuts to the chase, and you ruffle the ends of her ponytail fondly. “All we got is Joel,” she digs at him with a sly look.

“You’re somethin’ else, kid,” Joel scoffs. “Alright, we’ll set out tomorrow. Spend today gathering supplies.”

“I’ll make a list,” you offer.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

That evening, as you say your goodbye to the ocean, you stand on a jetty hugging yourself. It’s the hour of sunset, and you’ve never seen a more beautiful one.

Sunbeams paint the clouds violet, gold, pink, and red. Some clouds in the distance are a heavy gray, pregnant with the storm that will come in the night. The sky behind is a deep blue. And, though none fall, you’re unembarrassed by the tears that well in your eyes.

Your parents never saw the sea. You may never see it again after tomorrow morning. Loss in the face of such grandeur feels more poignant.

Joel stands beside a sand dune, lost in thought once again. How do you maintain the capacity to feel so much and keep getting up every day? He’d spent the last eight years in a cloud of violence, alcohol, and occasionally something heavier. He couldn’t find it in him to care about himself half of the time, let alone a fucking sunset.

Frustrated at his fascination with you, he turns his back to finish preparing for the long walk to come.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Over a week later, the three of you cross the western edge of the state. The slog through the lowlands had been made easier by the discovery of a working pickup truck two days earlier. It had to have been used by someone recently, though no one had been at the rural home when you’d boosted it.

It was old, and the gas gauge perpetually stated it was on E, so Joel siphoned gas every two hours. Because of this, it was necessary to take the interstate or other, passable roads with vehicles laying around like miniature gas stations.

The days spent walking had been hell. There had been no breeze, and the weather had been so mild as to have the three of you sweating under your clothes. You’d had to remove everything but your jeans and your dirty tank top.

Joel hated that. He’d have fought the weather if he could.

He’d been outright rude to you several times. Cutting over you when you spoke, or intentionally asking Ellie a question that you should’ve been asked. Then, sometimes he would slip up. You caught him staring at you, your chest, or your hips. Each time he was caught, he’d withdraw sullenly until Ellie annoyed him with a terrible pun.

He was also caring.

Separately, and more than once, you and Ellie had woken up with his jacket draped over your sleeping form. He answered some of Ellie’s prying questions (“What did you do for work?” “Now or before?” “Both, I guess.” “I was a contractor. After it all went to shit, I transported… contraband.”) without much fuss.

He often kept watch with Ellie, telling her the odd short, humorous story from his distant past. He never told her about his family, nor details on his life after the outbreak.

The first time you'd woken up to Joel's heavy, pleasantly musky jacket across your body, it was like he had cursed you. Your eyes trailed him the entire day as his powerful stride pushed him forward, the lazy confidence of his hand resting on his gun. You watched his throat and the hook of his nose as he took a drink of water, unbelievably parched yourself.

Then he caught you. His eyes, unwilling to see what was flashing neon in your own, tore through you. He refused to give in, but daily he made it worse.

To the unending amusement of both of you, he even delivered the punchline to Ellie’s first joke of the day once. Unpredictable motherfucker, you frequently cursed at him in your mind.

Today, the atmosphere in the cab is stiff - at least between you and Joel - and no one had spoken in over an hour. You knew Joel wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, and you’re unsurprised by the one who does.

“Why does Dr. Pepper come in a bottle?” Ellie asks.

At the odd question, you turn your body to look at her in the backseat, but she’s hidden behind her joke book. Oh, you realize. “Hmm, I don’t know. Why?”

“The answer is: ‘Because his wife died.’” Ellie lowers the book and frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Joel chokingly laughs. It’s so unexpected that you and Ellie stare at him for several seconds.

“He comes in a bottle.” Joel chuckles again and looks at you pointedly.

“Oh.” You cover your mouth and snicker. “Oh.” You sit back in your seat, your cheeks red.

“No, no! Don’t do that - what am I missing?” Ellie yells. She returns her eyes to the page as if the context will appear. Somehow, it does.

“Oh, my god. I get it. I wasn’t expecting a dirty joke; that’s the first one in here.” She muses.

“Thank fuck,” you comment.

The tension between you and Joel had been nearly unbearable, and the slips in his emotional unavailability were driving you insane. Avoiding thinking about… that… was the only way you’d survived being stuck in this enclosed space with him.

“There’s a whole section of them,” Ellie says with awe.

You whirl around to try and snatch the book from her, but she’s faster. She holds the book out of your reach, your seatbelt locking you in place.

“Ellie, give me that.”

“Why?”

“Let her keep it,” Joel interjects.

Ellie looks at the back of his head like he’d grown an extra one.

You ignore him. “Ellie, for fuck’s sake, at least skip the dirty jokes.” Your imploring eyes tell her what she needs to know: Don’t make this more awkward for me than it already is.

“Okay, okay, chill the hell out.” She rolls her eyes and sighs at you as only a teenager can. Then she motions at you, then Joel, then you again.

“I know,” you groan.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Joel’s an attractive driver. It’s an odd thing to think, but you can’t help it. He casually holds the wheel with his left hand while his right elbow braces on the center console. Occasionally his obscenely thick fingers stroke the scruff on his face. You wish he wouldn’t.

“Hey, we’re not far from that house with the chickens are we?” You observe as the rolling hills flow by.

“Think it’s about a half-hour that way,” Joel indicates out your window. His hand crosses into your personal space, flustering you. “I doubt the ones we left alive are alive anymore.”

“Yeah - no, I was just wondering. That was good meat, though. What a waste.” It had been so long since you’d had chicken, you’d forgotten how delicious it was.

The day you met him, Joel had killed a couple and cooked the meat that night and the next day. Unfortunately, you’d had no way to transport chicken - live or dead. It wasn’t lost on you, however, that Joel used the word “we” when he had been the one to kill, clean, and cook it.

Ellie breaks the silence again. “Hey, Joel.”

He hums questioningly.

“What’s your last name?”

He responds with automatic promptness, “Miller.”

Ellie contemplates. “Joel Miller. Sounds good, I like it.”

Joel Miller. It does sound good. Everything about him is so attractive, I hate it, you complain petulantly. Why couldn’t he have been ugly?

As the truck crests the hill, a huge valley opens up through the windshield. A loud boom! shudders through the car. Joel clamps onto the steering wheel with both hands, keeping control of the vehicle until the power steering gives out. Fish-tailing onto the shoulder and down into the grassy ditch, the car comes to a jolting stop halfway down the mountain.

“Ellie, y’okay?” Joel spits out the question faster than your mouth opens to ask the same thing.

“Yeah. What the fuck, man?” It’s rhetorical.

Joel’s alarmed eyes rake you over, “You alright?”

“I’m good. What happened?”

“Think the tire blew.” He slams his hand on the steering wheel, “Fuck.”

“Great.” You peek out the window and notice the sun’s position. “It’s going down. I don’t think we should stay in the car tonight.”

Joel grunts in agreement and ducks to look in the rearview mirror. “Those rocks should be safe.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

In the blackness of the evening, the three of you lay in a triangle formation upon a large shelf of a limestone cliff. The cliff vaults up to your right, and down to the left. The view of the valley had been beautiful during sunset, but for once you had been too stressed to notice.

You lie on your sleeping bag, Ellie’s head at your foot. Joel lies with his head near yours. Concentrating on either fixing the car or abandoning it consumes you to a point that you don’t notice when Ellie starts snoring. Nor do you notice when Joel moves his bag closer to you.

“What're you thinkin' about?”

“Joel- what the hell," startled from your spiral of anxiety, you jump. "Sorry. Just lost in thought.”

“I can tell.”

Your head turns sharply, and you squint at him in the darkness, trying to determine what his goal was. “What’s that mean?”

“You didn’t say anything about the view from up here. Just wonderin' what you’re worryin’ about.”

Oh. He noticed that? You blush, thankful for the cover of night.

“Oh. Well,” you fully roll over to face him. His head is propped on his hand, and his silhouette is all you can see. “I’m worried about walking so far. Or trying to find a tire. I’m pissed off about the pain in my arm. I’m worried about Ellie.” Your voice fades to a mutter, “I’m worried about- about you.”

It’s quiet for a beat too long. “Why about me?”

“I -” you’re not sure how to say what you want, so you settle for the basics. “You’re unpredictable. I feel like one day we’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. And even though Ellie and I were on our own for so long before, it’s been…” you look for an appropriate word, “It’s been helpful having another adult I can count on.”

And here it was for Joel. He wasn’t stupid. You’re skirting around telling him that both you and Ellie have grown fond of him. He didn’t want that.

No, that isn’t true. The truth is he shouldn’t want it.

Joel doesn’t answer.

The natural sounds of the night replace your conversation. It’s so still, so quiet. You lay your head down and curl into a comfortable position facing the man.

You hadn’t expected him to respond. He’d accidentally shown you cracks in his armor by parenting Ellie occasionally, helping with a task that should’ve been yours or Ellie’s alone like keeping watch or preparing dinner, and laughing.

For fuck’s sake, laughing with us - but still he kept the armor.

Sleep has taken you when Joel quickly pushes a lock of hair over your shoulder and states,

“‘m not goin' anywhere.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The sound of rubber rolling on pavement is the background to Ellie’s unceasing chatter. The bright sunshine feeds her mood as though she survives on photosynthesis. She’d left her joke book at the campsite, but she jabbers on about nothing and everything. After trekking for an hour, you managed to find a tire that Joel agreed should fit the truck. If it could shorten your cross-country trip by even a day, it was worth the effort.

Joel hunches over the tire, rolling it back up the highway. His backpack and gun sway with his movements. The awkward angle and the added weight of his gear have his brow dripping sweat.

“So, what if it’s really snowy up there? Will we get frostbite? What if we find a moose - do those still exist? Aren’t they like the size of a house?” Ellie’s exuberance couldn’t be stopped.

“Joel, please…” you murmur as you jog up alongside him. You slip your fingers under the strap of his rifle, trying to relieve him of at least one burden. Joel abruptly straightens at the contact, leveling you with a questioning look. Your lips twist into a reassuring smile. You curl your fingers tighter and tug the strap down his arm.

“I’ll take the backpack, too.” You keep your voice gentle as though you’re trying not to spook him. He allows you to take the gun but jerks away when you reach for his backpack strap.

“No, it’s heavy. I don’t want you takin’ both.”

“I know it’s heavy, that’s why I’m trying to take it from you.”

The gun is slipped from you as Ellie brushes your side. You’d been too focused on Joel to realize that she’d stopped thinking aloud.

“Now she can take the backpack, ya stubborn old man.” Ellie slings the rifle and stalks ahead.

A bead of sweat falls from his temple; he’s defeated. With a groan, he shrugs off his pack and holds it up for you.

“If it gets too heav-”

“Stop pretending to be a gentleman,” you reach for the bag.

Your fingers close partially around Joel’s, rewarding you with the sultriness of his rough fingers. For an extended breath, Joel doesn’t let go; he squeezes it a little harder. Eventually, he unclasps his hand, allowing you to bear the weight.

A couple of miles later, the silver truck is visible among the trees. You quicken your step.

Joel's gotta roll the tire up that hill.

“Can I help you carry it somehow? Rolling it up this isn’t gonna be fun,” you offer.

Joel simply shakes his head, breathing deeply in resignation. He lifts it, grunting, deciding to carry it the last length. You’re glad he denied your offer because, wow, why is that so hot? You stare after him for far too long.

At the top of the hill, a younger blonde man peeks in the truck's window. Ellie hands Joel's gun back to him, then, as you taught her, she circles into the trees out of sight.

"Howdy," the man straightens and calls out to you and Joel. "Got any ammo?"

Joel has his gun pointed at the man before he finishes speaking.

"No."

Deciding that Joel wasn't the best negotiator, you step ahead.

"Are you looking to trade or to steal?" You step cautiously closer and the blonde man gets a better look at you.

"Well, shit, I would've put on my two-day old clothes instead of my week-old ones if I'd known I'd run into you."

"You know this guy?" Joel snaps at your back.

"No?" His tone confuses you. Then to the trader, "Whatcha looking for?"

"I need some nine-millimeter, preferably. Shouldn't be too much of an ask since they're the most common. I do have some food up for trade." He holds up a large, navy duffle bag.

It was obvious to you that this man was used to his good looks and charm winning him points. He was slightly older than you, and you couldn't lie, this guy must've done well for himself in the apocalypse. He looked healthy, attractive, and normal.

The man continues, "I'm Zach. You show me yours and I'll show you mine?" He grins, but it fades fast. "Just tell the attack dog to calm down."

Attack dog?

You turn to catch a look at Joel: he stands with his gun pointed casually and coldly in Zach's general direction. You've never seen such an intimidating, contemptuous look on his handsome face. A shiver runs through you. Your poorly-timed attraction to him heightens. A tumult of terrible things you want him to do to you crash through your mind.

"Are you okay?" You quietly ensure.

Joel gives a curt nod, never taking his eyes from the younger man.

You face the trader. "Sorry, we don't have any nine-millimeter. We don't have anything to trade, really."

"Ah, that's fine. There's another group around this area. Maybe I'll try them."

"A group?" You query, your voice rising in concern.

"Yeah, you ain't seen anyone, sweetheart? There's a whole community of farmers. Rumor is they have chickens."

"Oh," you stutter. "Wow, chickens."

"Yeah. Supposed to be a lot of folks, so I guess that'll be my next try."

Zach looks you up and down, a genuine smile gracing his clean-cut face.

"You sure you don't wanna take a day trip with me? Take you to see some chickens? I'm sure your dad won't mind?" The winsome younger man cocks his head at Joel as if asking permission.

In the span of a second, Joel is a brick wall in front of you. He raises his rifle, his scope trained on the man's chest.

"If you don't get the fuck outta here, I'll give you those bullets you're beggin' around for."

The barely-restrained anger in his voice involuntarily has you leaning closer to him. He sounded like he was speaking to a deadly threat, and you instinctively crave his protection. Your heart races, wondering what spooked Joel.

Zach throws up his hands, "Fuck, man. Okay. I can't hit on her? Sheezus."

He starts back up over the hill, throwing worried looks every now and then, seemingly terrified that Joel will act on his inexplicably violent mood.

When he's gone, Ellie comes popping out from behind a tree.

"Damn, Joel, you made that guy piss his pants," she approves.

"What happened?"

The intense belief in your eyes that Joel had been morally right in that situation almost bothers him. He'd threatened the kid because the kid threatened him. Joel can't put rational words to it, but you're his… responsibility.

"Had a forty-five on him. Not a nine-millimeter," Joel lies.

"Wow, you could tell that?" Ellie's face glows. "That's impressive as shit. Teach me the difference? And how to shoot?"

Knowing damn well that Joel had never seen any weapon on the guy, you tell your excited younger sister, "He will, El, but first he's gotta change the tire and get us going again."

Joel rubs his jaw, sure you saw through him. “Actually, might be good to go hunting here where the woods’re thicker. And I'd gotta go before dark.”

"I'll go with you," you don't let him squirm away. "Ellie, you know the drill. Keep an extra eye out while that guy's around. I think he's-" You wanted to say harmless, but realized that would undermine Joel's actions.

"I think he's gone; but just in case," you hand her your rifle.

Ellie looks from butt to barrel with awed respect.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"So, what the hell was that about?" You interrogate Joel once the two of you are a fair distance into the woods.

"Nothin'," is Joel's forthcoming reply.

"Joel, for the love of-" you grab his shoulder and spin him to face you. "What set you off?"

Joel works his jaw, looking away from you, then meets your eyes with a faintly-playful tilt of his head.

"He called me old." Joel's face is impassive.

You fight a smirk. "Are you being serious? Ellie calls you old all the time."

"He was annoyin' me."

"I annoy you."

"I know, you're doin' it right now."

Sighing, you give up. "Fine, don't tell me."

"You upset I scared off a suitor?"

"A suitor? Damn, you are old." You push his arm in jest as you both continue marching through the woods. "He was too young for me."

"He was older than you."

"Too young." You say again. "Too happy. Too charming."

"Oh, he was charming, huh? That was workin' on you?"

You catch his eye and smile like you have a secret, "No."

Joel knows you're goading him, and his chest aches with exhilaration. He'd point loads of guns at loads of people if you'd keep smiling at him like that.

You breathe out the word, “Deer,” and Joel sinks into a crouch, tugging you down with him. The two of you take cover behind a downed hemlock. His rifle rests on the treebark following the soft footsteps of a large animal.

The way he pulled you down has you pressing into his side and you’re certain even the deer can hear your thumping heart.

But neither of you move. You can feel the unyielding firmness of his body; it’s so incredibly comforting to you that it’s all you can think about. Joel Miller.

He breathes in, and on the exhale he fires. The shot echoes through the woods, sending a handful of crows cawing into the air. Joel retracts his rifle and turns his head to you with a faux-humble smirk.

He’s even closer than he was that night on the beach; your heart stops, then kicks into overdrive. With his hair mussed and his smile lopsided, he looks happy.

Instantly realizing his mistake, but too weak to correct it, Joel risks another glance at your lips. He peers back up at your eyes and he’s dry-mouthed at how blown your pupils are. He watches with confliction as your face changes. You swallow a sudden lump in your throat and drop your eyes.

You pull away and whisper, “I can’t do this.”

And you can’t. The constant heartache of Joel pushing and pulling at you was too much. Today, he’s open, but tomorrow he’d be withdrawn. It was selfish and it was idealistic, but you wanted all of him or nothing. Calling it a crush was trivializing your feelings. An injustice; you knew what you felt for him was stronger than that.

You stand and offer him your hand. If he couldn’t give you what you wanted, that's okay, because you’d love him anyway - as platonically as you could.

“Should we butcher it here? Or drag it? It’s gonna be a chore either way.” Your voice is forced cheer.

Joel clears his throat, thrown for a loop. “Mm. Guess we’ll drag it.”

He takes your hand and you haul him up. He pauses to put his gun back on safety and sling it over his shoulder. As he does so, you stride toward the unlucky deer.

“I didn’t know lovebirds still existed.” You’re several yards from the deer when a man’s taunt drifts on the wind.

A greasy, stocky man in his late-thirties strolls out from behind another massive hemlock. He’s halfway between you and the deer carcass. Twigs snap behind you as Joel hastens to get to your side, but the man raises his handgun.

He aims at your friend, but Joel only slows his pace. The man grunts with irritation and points the firearm at you. Joel’s footsteps stop.

“Ooh, you’re easy to control, huh?”

You picture your gun back at the campsite with Ellie as she kept watch. It’s hard to regret giving it to her, though. She had a weapon and so did you. As long as Joel was around, you’d be okay.

“What’d you want?” Joel grits out; he’s pissed.

“Buddy, I don’t like your tone. Neither do they,” and the dumpy man tilts his chin behind both of you.

Two more men crush leaves and branches below their feet as they materialize. One is older and armed with a small hunting rifle. The other is much younger than both his friends despite his beard; this man foregoes a weapon. Joel rotates to face the new problem, backing up as he does so, but the first man is wise to Joel’s play.

“Stop moving toward her.”

Joel stops once more, his teeth clench so hard that his jaw pops.

“We followed the deer. Been tracking it for a half-mile.”

“Then take it,” the inflection in Joel’s voice is flat, terrifying.

“A’right, a’right, don’t get your panties twisted,” the bearded man jeers. He then shares a meaningful look with the bulkier man near you.

Standing between Joel and the heavyset man, you’ve angled yourself diagonally to see both men. Unfortunately, Joel is not the closest. The stocky man lunges forward and snatches your left arm, wrenching it behind your back painfully. You cry out in sheer agony as his thumb digs into your stitches.

“Don't fuckin' hurt her,” Joel whips out, seething. His mouth pulls into a horrified scowl, his hands raised in desperate surrender.

The man pulls up your flannel sleeve, saying, “Ah, see, I thought you were overreacting. I was so gentle.” His oily nose sniffs your hair, “Did this guy hurt you, baby?”

You twist away from his rancid breath on your neck. It occurs to you to lie, to try to get them to believe Joel was possessive for a reason other than whatever drove him. Basic ethics, most likely.

If you lie, maybe they’d see you as less of a bargaining chip. Joel certainly wasn’t helping. He’s keeping his feelings forefront with that black look on his face.

With reluctance, you mutter, “Y-”

But it’s curtailed by your own scream as Joel stumbles to his knees. The two men stand above him - the butt of a rifle is pressed against the back of Joel’s head. His eyes find yours, and a trickle of blood drips down his forehead. Tears stream freely down your cheek.

How could they? Joel is carefully and permanently on a pedestal in your mind. The peak of masculinity - both good and bad: protective, providing, impenetrable. Seeing him bleed, sagging on his knees was unthinkable. It was perverted, wrong.

You headbutt the man in the nose, a painful crack against the top of your skull. Grabbing the barrel of his handgun, you wrench it loose and stumble away. The man swears and doubles over, hands over his face.

Gasping for breath, you aim the gun at its owner and order, "Make them back off."

"Bitch, I'm not their daddy. I don't control ‘em," the man sounds pained.

The rifleman shoves the barrel of his gun into Joel's temple. "Put it down or I'll kill him."

"Hey, listen. You owe me, now," the stocky man says. "If you set down the gun, turn yourself over, we'll leave him be."

In your moment of hesitation, you lock eyes with the man you'd never expected, fear in his wet eyes. Then a freight train barrels into your side.

The gun's owner was quicker and quieter than his build should allow. It wasn't fair.

“Now, as feisty as you may think yourself, I’m not a fan of that.”

Your cheek is roughly grabbed, squeezed, and you're forced to watch as the rifleman slams the butt of his weapon into Joel’s back. Joel sprawls onto the ground, the wind knocked from him.

Weeping freely now, you beg, “Stop hurting him. Please, please don’t.”

“You gonna do what we ask?”

Joel tries to speak, but he’s rewarded with another blow to the ribs. He groans and falls onto his uninjured side only to have the bearded man deliver a clumsy kick to his stomach.

“Yes, yes. I won't- won't fight if you’ll let him -” you break off at the look in Joel's eyes. “Please, let him go.”

“Goddamn it,” he groans.

Taking advantage of Joel’s attackers focusing on him, and the man holding you being unable to see your face, you mouth: Ellie. Take her. Go.

He growls your name and a curse which earns him another kick to the ribs. He coughs violently, then pushes himself up onto his knees, breathing heavily.

Still staring at you, he softly shakes his head ‘no’. A dead leaf falls from his hair; his brown, puppy eyes are devastated. It crushes your heart into the thousands of pieces you’d been so sure it was already in.

This doesn’t feel real. It’s as though you and Joel had slipped into a nightmare out here in the lonesome woods. None of this was real. None of it except your certainty. If you could save him, you would. You'd tried; and you'd try again. He could keep Ellie safer than you could. It’s simple for you - always had been. The decision wasn’t a decision at all. Love was a practice; a concrete, tangible thing; an action. Love sacrifices.

“‘Course. I swear. He’s not exactly our type. Good news, boys, y’all know I hate a fighter.” The man wraps an arm around you and drags you backward.

He’s deliberately slow enough to let you watch as Joel stands, pained. He punches the oncoming bearded man in the jaw and, using his momentum against him, drops the fucker to the ground. Joel then lunges for the rifleman, but the young, bearded man is up faster than he should’ve been. He snakes an arm around Joel’s throat.

“Joel!” You wail, thrashing in the man’s arms. “You fucking swore, you fucking asshole.” But you know it had been a long shot. You don’t even get to see Joel’s face one last time before you’re dragged over a ridge.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Joel’s temples throb with his heartbeat. The near-deafness in his right ear isn’t new, but he feels more like a flash-bang grenade exploded in his face. It had been late afternoon when he’d taken you hunting, and the pale blue lighting he sees when his eyes blink open tells him it's just after sunset.

He puffs out a cloud of the mulched forest floor between his dry lips and pushes his palms down to leverage himself off the ground. The temperature had dropped rapidly and the air stings his bruised lungs.

It’s then that he hears your cry. It’s muffled like someone has their hand over your mouth. He hears feet scrabbling in the leaves, and his body physically stiffens at the remembrance of where he is.

Rage and panic napalm his mind. Those assholes must believe they’d killed him because no one in their right mind would leave Joel Miller alive; not when they had his… his.

He wanted to be mad at you. Wanted so desperately the chance to be mad at you. How could you believe them? Why would they have let him go once you stopped fighting? His heart races and he wonders if he's having a heart attack. He had been right in the beginning about you being too trusting. He had been right this whole time.

He hides his fear of losing you behind blame, anger. But then his own guilt kicks him. You were doing exactly what you’d do for Ellie. For anyone you cared for. He should’ve been stronger. He should’ve saved you.

Joel casts a searching eye for a weapon, though the righteous rage inside him would be enough. There it is. He can’t quite believe it. One of these boys with a room-temperature IQ had left his .22 propped against a tree trunk near the lip of the earthy depression.

Ignoring the pain lancing through his body, Joel crouches and shakily snatches up the gun. He moves to the top of the small rise and peers around a tree.

Sitting on your shins is the bearded man who knocked him out; the sandy-haired man’s grimy fingers are trying to shimmy your jeans down. The second man, the rifleman, whom Joel now notices is wearing a torn band shirt, is seated in the dirt above your head, pinning your arms. The third member of the goon squad, their leader, is straddling you, kissing your neck.

Joel refuses to look at your face because if he does he’ll go insane. Instead, he raises the .22 in a flash and fires a shot at at the music fan holding your arms. His orbital bone shatters, blood spurting everywhere.

Without pausing, Joel launches out from behind the tree and swings the .22 into the head of the man who took you from him. He swings the gun as if he’s winning the World Series with it. The resounding crack is so loud that Joel knows he’s killed the fucker instantly. That pisses him off more. A better death than the shitstain deserved.

Two men are dead before they even know he’s coming. Joel turns on the last one who’s now crab-walking backward from your legs.

“Hey, hey, please,” the younger man holds up a hand in panicked surrender. “You killed my brother, you killed him! Ain’t that enough?”

“You’re right behind him,” Joel grits out. He tosses the gun aside.

“Please, no, listen. No, no,” the man begs.

You retract your knees, hugging them to your chest as you sit up. Your body is a tempest of fear, revulsion, relief, horror, disgust, gratitude, and anger. You’re not sure which one you feel strongest. You’d been hassled before, nearly every woman left in the world had been and the odds hadn’t been great pre-outbreak, anyway. But it’d never been that close.

All you focus on now is Joel. Alive, and standing between you and all the world.

“Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t tell you to run because you’re already in the safest place you could be. You don’t want to close your eyes. If you do, he might disappear. You can't give up a sense while drowning in fear. Take your eyes off the one buoy you had? You just can't do it.

The sounds you hear are worse than what you see. There’s the dull thudding sound of Joel’s fists connecting with your attacker’s face, the man’s primal screams suddenly stopping, and the squelching of blood.

Joel kneeling over the man, his solid right arm rising and slamming down is all you see. It's all you want to see. You'd be lying if you said his violent defense of you wasn't thrilling, wasn't stirring something inside you.

It will haunt you for a while, but the relief of Joel being alive would ease all pain. And in truth, the would-be rapist deserved it. He deserved that side of Joel just as you deserve the other side of him.

You finally close your eyes when Joel's swings slow. Tucking into yourself, you relive the last few minutes and begin to cry.

There’s a hand in your hair. You flinch and your arms go up to protect yourself when you feel a weight sink to the ground beside you. Opening your eyes, you’re unable to move in the sight of Joel’s frenzied face. Freckles of blood dot his skin, and his eyes are wild. His breathing is rapid as his hand combs through your hair.

“You’re okay,” his deep voice is raw, “you’re okay.”

He crushes you to him - his hand cradles the back of your skull while you bury your face in his chest. A pained groan rolls from his mouth but he doesn’t let go. His earthy, leather scent is grounding.

You scramble to match his kneeling position to fit into him further; you push underneath his jacket, wrapping your arms around his torso, needing to feel him. He rests his cheek on top of your head.

“I thought they killed you,” you cry brokenly into his clothing, the inconsolable grief of losing him still pressing on you.

“Never fuckin’ do that again,” it’s too soon for him to be mad, but he tries anyway. He pulls back just enough to take your face in both hands, “If you’re given that choice again, you do not choose me.” His troubled eyes dart between yours.

You know you can’t retort, so you drop your gaze. You can’t promise you won’t take a bullet for him, because you would. Just like you would for Ellie. You slowly retract your arms from underneath his jacket, feeling awkward.

“I’ll try to think of something else first,” you answer him, your voice laden with too many emotions.

You tilt your head up to see Joel’s beautiful face marred by a tortured expression. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.

He wants you to be strong, yes. To fight. You are unapologetic joy and he can’t lose that. Joel would happily die if he knew you’d still smile at nature, at all your small reasons, at your sister. He can’t lose you, can't fail you.

In great contrast to the gentle way he holds your face, his jaw is clenched so hard that it looks painful. Concern creases your brow and your mouth opens a fraction to ask if he’s alright, but Joel’s lips are suddenly swallowing your question.

He burns away the swirling mire in your mind. There’s nothing, no pain or fear. Nothing except for him. His kiss is desperate - a leaf clinging to summer. As your hand returns to caress his side underneath his jacket, you can feel his heart beating as fast as your own.

A soft moan is forced from you when his hand fists in your hair. Your hands slide up his flannel-covered torso to cup his scruffy chin.

You part your lips, and breathe, “Joel.”

He moans into your mouth.

Then you delve into him, deepening the kiss. His arms encircle you, one hand in your hair, the other squeezing your ass, keeping your body flush against his. He’s even warmer than you imagined. The night chill no match for him.

A bird tweets in the distant dusk. Then it’s as if he suddenly returns to earth: he leans back, putting distance between the two of you.

“’m sorry. That was… bad. This is -” he stops, looking around, and presses his swollen lips into a thin line. “Not right. Sorry. We’ll go find Ellie.”

With that, he lets go of you completely, leaving you adrift. He stands and offers his hand to you. Confused, more muddled than you’ve ever been in your life, you accept the help silently. He drops your hand as soon as you’re upright.

Holy shit. He kissed me, right? Or did I lean in first? His rejection stomps on the already-broken pieces of your heart. I knew he wouldn’t let me in.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Ellie hops off a rock and slams into you, nearly bowling you over. She tilts her head to look up at you, and you wipe away her tear stains.

“I could hear you yelling. I could hear it, but I promised.” She cries in horror, referring to what you had ingrained into her every day since the outbreak: if you two were separated, she stayed put. She never came if she heard trouble. Ever. No exigent circumstances. She’d hated that promise, fought you on it constantly, but fucking hell were you glad she listened. You refused to even entertain what might’ve happened had Ellie been there.

“We’re alright, Ellie. I’m so sorry.” You smile tiredly. “Everyone’s okay.”

To your right, you see Joel out of the corner of your eye. Ellie leans over and grasps his sleeve, making sure he’s tangible. Joel’s mouth twitches in a tiny but reassuring smile.

“I’m fine, kid.”

“You guys look like shit,” she swipes at her tears.

Joel barks a laugh, the quick change in Ellie’s disposition precisely what was needed.

“I’d like nothing better than a hot shower,” you reply. You can still feel their grimy hands on your body. You shudder.

“Dunno ‘bout a hot shower, but I’m sure we could find a spring tomorrow.”

You sigh, “Guess that’ll have to do.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Are you -” Joel stumbles over his thoughts, “Are you gonna be okay? To sleep, I mean?”

“Unlikely,” you give him an uneasy smile. “I’m happy to take the first watch.”

“Alright,” he settles on the rock next to you.

You protest, irritated, “Please go rest. You've had a - a bad day, too.” You needed time to process everything and his presence was distracting.

“I’m not gonna rest if you’re keeping watch alone.”

You scoff. “I learned my lesson, okay?”

Was he hellbent on making you mad at him tonight? After he saved your ass? For the third time. Oh, my god. I really am one big problem for him.

Redness flushes your cheeks at the realization. You owe him so much yet all he does is drive you insane. Sorting out your feelings about everything was priority number one.

“That’s not what I m-”

“Well, what do you mean?”

“If you’d let me fuckin’ finish,” he makes a frustrated hand motion. “Got a hard enough time admitting it at all, an’ you want me to just come out with a poem or some shit?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I think we should eat those last two granola bars. Don’t you guys? They’ve been in my pack for, like, three weeks.” Ellie walks over and interrupts purposefully, tired of the argument.

“Well, they lasted eight years, so I don’t think a few days will affect them, but that’s fine with me.”

Ellie trots over to her backpack and breaks two bars in half. She returns and gives you one half and Joel another. Holding her own half from the second bar, she “clinks” her bar with yours.

“Cheers,” she laughs before biting her piece. You smile and take a small bite of yours. Ellie wanders toward the sleeping bags, slowly picking apart her granola bar.

Under your breath, you tell Joel, “Please go get some sleep. I owe you and I’m fine.”

He stamps the butt of his gun on the rock he’d been sitting on in acknowledgment, then mercifully leaves you to your daunting task.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It's still dark when your relief comes. He looks terrible. His knuckles are flaked with both his and another's blood, and his forehead still bears traces of the afternoon.

"There's a stream down there," you indicate to your right. Its babbling could be heard in the quiet air.

"I'm fine," he grouses.

"Joel…" you gently chide.

Pulling a shirt from your pack, you walk off to the stream. You're back less than a minute later, and you point at the rock you'd been sitting on.

"Yes, ma'am," his voice is still monotone.

You position yourself in front of him, his face level with yours. He closes his eyes as you carefully rub the damp cloth across his dirty, blood-streaked forehead.

"It's been hours, why didn't you clean up?"

Joel only shrugs in answer.

"What's wrong?" You stop wiping.

His eyelids open and the flickering campfire reflects in his glassy eyes.

"Can you just keep doin' that?" He closes his eyes once more. You oblige.

He doesn't mean to, he doesn't even register that he's done it until it's too late. He flinches as his sore, bruised knuckles bend to fit his hands around your hips. You tenderly grasp one and begin to wipe it free of residue.

Neither of you speaks, too lost in your own thoughts and in the moment. Joel feels so close and so distant.

You’d sorted through your emotions over the near-assault with brashness. It was the end of the world. Dwelling on things you had survived was pointless.

No, the problem was Joel. You thought you’d got him killed, then he was alive, then the kiss, then he rejected you. Guilt, grief, joy, embarrassment.

You still weren't sure who initiated the kiss, and his defensive coldness led you to believe it had been you. In truth, you supposed you were just back at square one. Joel forever opening up then shutting down again.

It only made you feel worse. Desperately you wanted to cling to him, have him tell you that he didn’t blame you. Have him make the world go away. But even if he did that now, it wouldn’t last. He wouldn’t let you fully inside.

“Thank you,” Joel murmurs when you back away.

“Like I said, I owe you.” Your voice gives away no inflection.

Joel watches you walk over to where Ellie lay. You kiss her forehead, then cuddle in behind her. He sees you whisper something in her ear.

Joel understands. An easy reprieve from your own emotions was to care for another’s.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The silver truck glimmers behind you. You regard it with sadness before trudging onward. The sun beads in your eyes as the westward walk continues. Looking down isn’t a reprieve as the sun reflects off the pure snow. The soft, rolling plains stretch out, but the horizon is jagged with the promise of greater hills or rock formations. There’s not a single car to be seen.

“It got us through, like, four fucking states in three days,” Ellie holds up a map of the Midwest you’d found at a state welcome center.

“You mean I got us through four fuckin’ states in three days,” Joel boasts.

It had been too long since he’d filled the gas tank, but with the broken gauge, he’d been unable to predict exactly when the vehicle would give up the ghost. The answer was somewhere over the border of Nebraska.

“Sure, Joel, you did it all on your own,” Ellie rolls her eyes. She kicks a chunk of snow. “I’m so happy you're here to do everything.”

Since the fight, you’d found it difficult to even look at the man next to you. You had bared yourself to him that day; shown him that you were willing to die for him, that you trusted him with Ellie, that your greatest fear had been his death; and then that fucking kiss. And here you both were: unable to look at each other.

“At least one of you is,” Joel mutters, his breath clouding in the freezing air.

The man could find his way under your skin even if you were wearing a latex bodysuit. You bite your lip to prevent the automatic, angry retort.

Thinks I’m dead weight. You think bitterly. Don't blame him too much. Almost got him killed. Probably thinks of me as a dumb kid.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to quell the heartbreak. You understood his opinion: you’re weak because you care. You had given up on trying to show him that that was the only way you could live with yourself.

A cloud blows over the afternoon sun, illuminating the land in a new way. The horizon silhouettes a building in the distance, at least a mile out. You shield your eyes, then point.

“Shelter?” Your teeth chatter together with perfect timing and, from the corner of your eye, you see motion. Joel is unwinding the scarf he’d found. He drapes it around your neck.

“Wrap it over your chin,” he instructs.

You do so. It had been a new scarf from the same rest stop where you’d picked up the map. It smelled old, but it was warm. His warmth. You regret curling it over your mouth because on top of the old smell was Joel. At least he can’t see most of your face now.

Joel relished the way something of his - albeit his for less than a few days - looked on you. He’d take what he could get. You’d pried open his hardened heart and nestled inside. Joel had never met anyone like you. So capable and vulnerable and easy to be with. And fucking irritating. And stubborn. God, you piss him off.

You’d been different since that night and Joel hadn’t the emotional intelligence to work out your problem. As far as he could reason, you were upset with him for not saving you sooner, or for kissing you at such a shit moment; or, he worried, kissing you at all. His fear that you see him as a father figure grows larger.

“You and I go in, Ellie covers the front?” You start planning. “Together or me in the back?”

“Could be one of those state historical cabins, so there might be only one door anyway,” Joel theorizes.

“Good point,” you concede.

You evaluate Ellie’s back as she walks in front, wondering if you could get away with a hushed conversation with Joel. The heaviness between the two of you was reaching a breaking point for you. You’re just one state away from Wyoming now, and you can’t let him leave without fixing whatever was happening. Luckily, the wind howls occasionally from the west, so your words are unlikely to carry to her ears.

You drop back, slowing your pace. Joel notices and slows as well.

“Is it because I told them you hurt me? Because I kissed you? Or because I- because I almost got you killed? Is that why you're still so mad at me?” You pepper him suddenly.

Joel couldn’t be more surprised if you had stabbed him.

“No, I know why y’ told ‘em I did that,” he answers. “An’ I know you thought trading yourself was the best option.” His voice drops an octave, “It wasn’t, but I get it.”

“You get it? You don't blame me? Then why are you being so mean to me?” You plead.

“What?” Joel's face turns to yours.

“You’re even colder than usual. You make these little digs at me, you don’t trust me to keep watch half the time anymore. You treat me like a child you’re disappointed in.” The irony smacks into you when you nearly whine that last sentence.

Joel grabs your arm, stopping you and turning you to face him.

"I don’ do those things because I think you’re a child. And I thought you were the one who was mad-” he pauses, unsure how to organize his argument. Snowflakes catch in his gray hair. His dark eyes are stark against the white surroundings. “But I couldn’t feel less fatherly 'bout you if I tried.”

“What - what the fuck does that mean?” You ask, baffled and failing to keep your pitch low. Ellie notices now that the two of you have stopped.

“Can you guys fight in the damn cabin up there?” She crosses her arms and tilts her head back dramatically. “Either kiss or kill each other, I’m so tired of this.” And with that, she spins around.

When you reignite eye contact with Joel, he’s burning a hole through you with every emotion you’ve ever made him feel. There’s a moment when you think he’ll take Ellie’s advice, but then he sighs.

“Go on, girl,” he gestures ‘after you’.

“‘Girl’? You said you weren't infantilizing me.” You scoff.

“Infantilizing? Well, ain’t that a five-dollar word, where’d ya learn that?” he snarks in exasperation. God, you piss him off.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Joel had been right, again. You were getting tired of that. An empty wooden box with a fireplace on the lower level, the cabin was at least a shelter from the snow flurrying down. It had plain, empty floors and a staircase with no railing but a trapdoor to separate the top floor from the bottom. That was handy in case a problem arose.

There was a great debate about lighting the fire. All three of you took turns arguing both for and against it (Ellie: “But it’s fucking frozen in here,” Joel: “You wanna alert any dumbass in the area to our presence, darlin’, go ahead,”), but in the end, the frigid temperature had the final say. Ellie and Joel ventured back into the growing white swirl outside to look for wood in the tiny shed.

While they were gone, you laid out the camping gear and set about making this house a home for the night. In the corner, you notice an old brochure for the place.

Perfect. Kindling.

You dig through your pack to find your lighter when Ellie shoves open the heavy wooden door with two logs in her arms. She kicks the door closed, despite its weight.

“This was all I got, but I think Joel might’ve got more.” She announces, slamming the logs onto the hearth.

“Was he right behind you?” You ask, laughing preemptively.

“Oh, shit, yeah.”

She runs to the door and jerks it back open. There’s Joel standing in the doorway with his arms full of wood. His leveled glare and signature frown send both you and Ellie into fits of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie chuckles.

Joel’s long legs step over the threshold, and when he gets close enough to Ellie, he shakes his hair over her, showering her in melting snowflakes.

Still laughing, Ellie blocks him with her hands and cries, “You dick!”

Sitting cross-legged next to the hearth, you no longer need the fire, warmed by the scene playing out in front of you. No matter the type of relationship with Joel, you couldn’t care about the two of them any more than you do now. The smile on your face is so wide that you feel like you'll split.

Joel approaches and sets the logs down far more gently than Ellie had next to the fireplace. You hold up the two logs Ellie had grabbed, and together with Joel, start the fire.

After a dinner of canned veggies, Ellie sprawls out on the floor in her t-shirt and jeans. Joel sits with his back to the flames while you lean against the heated stones.

“It’s hot down here,” Ellie complains.

Joel's face darkens with irritation.

“I’m allowed to be hot.”

“You’re the only reason we got the damn thing going,” he accuses. “You got too much energy. It’s got you all -” he makes a shaking motion with his hands.

“I do not,” Ellie yawns. “I’m actually exhausted.”

“That floor upstairs has a trapdoor. Might be cooler, El.”

“Doesn’t heat rise or some shit?” Ellie asks.

“Yes, but this place is airtight and I’m betting it’s colder up there. I don’t care what you do, I’m just telling you.”

“Okay, I’ll go look.” Ellie hops up in a fluid motion and bounds across the room and up the stairs. She’s gone for a few moments, and you picture her standing with her eyes closed acting like a human thermometer.

She stomps down the creaky old steps, “It’s way cooler but not cold so I’m gonna sleep up there.” She starts to gather her sleeping bag, pillow, and her clothes.

Your stomach lurches. Alone with Joel overnight? That’s… that’s never happened.

“Do you want company, Ellie?” You ask, trying to take the coward’s way out.

“Uhh. Do you mind staying down here?” Ellie asks with a grimace. A teenager has to take every opportunity to be independent.

“Course not. Just making sure you’re okay,” you reassure her, though you’re the one who’s not okay.

“Goodnight, then. Love you,” Ellie balances her stuff as she makes her way up the stairs. “‘Night, Joel!” Then the squeak, bam! of the trapdoor hinging shut.

“‘Night, Ellie,” comes his reply.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Let’s get this over with,” you sigh pessimistically.

“Wish I hadn’t kissed you,” Joel blurts out before you finish speaking. It was obvious he hadn’t planned this any more than you had.

Subconsciously, you put a hand over your chest at the stabbing pain of his words. Though you suspected it, it was hard to hear it from those same lips.

Joel looks into the shadowy corner of the cabin. “Everything used to make you happy. Sunsets, mountains, clouds - hell, even I managed to make you laugh once or twice. But you've been so… so angry ever since - since I kissed you.”

Okay, so I didn't start the kiss. One less thing to feel guilty for.

“I wasn’t sure who moved first. Then you said it was ‘bad.’” Your voice curdles to a whisper in embarrassment.

Joel’s head jerks to you. The firelight glows on the right side of his tanned face, highlighting his patchy beard. “You thought I meant your kissin’ skill?”

You don’t reply, a lump in your throat at the memory of all you felt that day and the sting of his rejection.

What scared you most that day was not what nearly happened to you, but what had happened to him. In a way, you understood him much better now. Letting people in only got people hurt. That’s fine and dandy when you were the one getting hurt, but not when Joel had been near death because of your affection for him.

“No, you meant getting close to me.” You can’t make eye contact with him, but his hand twitches closer to yours.

“No, I didn’t,” his voice is so rough it could catch on silk. "You an' Ellie are all I got. What I meant was that I shouldn’t have finally let you know that next to three dead bodies after you’d been -” he stops himself, looking away.

Those two sentences in his gruff, passionate voice pick up the pieces of your heart.

It's your turn. “I haven’t been mad, I’ve been hurt. Confused. Taking a page out of your book and building a wall to protect myself.”

Joel frowns, “From me?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. I told you I’m not a good man. Tommy and I did bad shit to survive. But... I was worse.”

“Stop fucking comparing yourself to him,” you beg. “I don’t want your brother.”

“An’ you want me?” Joel chuckles darkly. “Old enough to be your dad.”

“You said you didn’t view me like a kid.”

“No,” his brown eyes find yours, giving you the same look he gave you out on the road and before he kissed you that horrible day. “No, when I think about you, it ain’t -” he hesitates. “It's what any man would think.”

You slide closer to him, your hip bumping the rock hearth, and murmur, “I don’t want any man, either.”

Delicately, you rest a hand on his jean-covered knee. Your mind had changed. If he would keep opening himself up to you over time like this, he was worth the risk. Worth the heartache.

He's warm even through the tough material. A summer's day at the lake, and you desperately want to go swimming. Joel's large, deep eyes memorize your face, and the fire blazing beside you pales in comparison.

“I can't. What if I fail you again?” His mind jumps to how close you were to being hurt. The fear shocking his body. The sound of your cry. “I don’t know how to be close to anyone anymore. And I’m-” his voice strains, but he raises his hand to touch your face.

You close your eyes, inadvertently parting your lips as well. His thumb trails and pulls on your bottom lip.

“I’ve killed innocent people,” he confesses, staring at your inviting mouth. "I’m not who I should be."

His eyes snap back to yours as you open them, “I… had a daughter.”

Joel’s eyes are watery, but he refuses to blink and let them spill. It’s Joel’s hardest confession and he does it purposefully while his brain is distracted. He needed you to know why he wasn’t right for you. Why he was stopping this.

“So have I. And…” You pour your heart into your words, “I’m so, so sorry, Joel. Nothing I can say will ease that pain. I- I can't even imagine it." You picture Ellie. You squeeze his knee where your hand still lay, "But I’ll help you carry it all, if you’ll let me."

“Goddamn it,” he growls. “You’re not lettin’ me have any room, are you? Always have to fuckin’ argue.”

His calloused hands seize your face, crushing his lips to yours. You mewl in surprise and the hand on his leg flies to his cheek. He holds you together though you feel like falling apart. The kiss was never chaste, but then his tongue demands its way into your mouth and you reward him with a submissive moan.

Joel feels his entire body ignite. His lips drag you to a state of arousal you'd only experienced in your dreams of him. His hands clutch the sides of your face, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he licks into you. Joel's heat soaks into you, pooling below your stomach.

Not close enough for you, you throw your leg over him, straddling him.

He groans deliciously as you settle on his lap. He runs his hands up and down your back, your sides, wanting to map your body.

You grip his hair, as soft as you always knew it would be, and refuse to let the man breathe. Your kiss is as incendiary as his, and both of you gasp around the other’s lips. You rock against him, feeling the hardness in his jeans.

“Fuck,” his voice breaks along with any restraint he still had.

“Please,” you cry, plain need dripping from your voice.

“Whatever y’want, baby,” he drunkenly promises into your skin, placing openmouthed kisses down your throat. “This gotta go, though,” he grumbles. He slides both hands up your shirt, removing it with a flourish.

His undeniable desire for you goes straight to your soul: a desperate ache for him. He works your bra off and replaces it with his hardworking hands. You throw your head back in relief, but it’s still not enough.

"Yes," you spur him on.

Returning to his perfect, indecently pouty mouth, your hands fumble with his belt. The clink of the belt buckle hitting the stone hearth underneath him is the most erotic sound you've yet heard. Without leaving your lips, Joel hooks your ankles around his waist and lowers you to his sleeping bag.

He trails down your jaw. You hurriedly unbutton his flannel, wanting to feel his skin flush with yours. He lets you slide your jeans off, in fear you might remember the last time a man tried to remove them.

But once they're gone, his hands skate along your hips and hook in your underwear. In a jumble of arms and material, Joel soon covers your nakedness with his own; his hard length throbbing against your hip.

“I can feel your heat, already,” he chokes, his voice gravelly. “Now, you gonna be quiet, or do I gotta cover this mouth of yours?” Joel’s thumb ghosts over your lips.

“I’ll be quiet, Joel. Promise,” you widen your eyes in earnest.

Joel groans, "Shit, woman." He ruts against you.

You lean to kiss his neck and jawline while your hands slide down in excitement to cup him, stroke him. You make a small, satisfied noise at the feel of him in your hands. He moans above you, dropping his head onto your shoulder, and you smirk.

“Are you gonna be quiet?”

He grasps your wrist and pulls it away. “You keep doin’ that and this’ll be a short ride.”

Joel ruts against you again, this time across a spot he hadn’t before - and you jolt with the sensation. He does it again, mesmerized by the way you move. He lines up and teases you, the mere contact sending your eyes rolling. You dig your nails into his biceps.

“Joel, before- I just want t-”

He stops you with a wet, filthy kiss. The throbbing between your legs has you rubbing against him for release. He erases your thoughts. Joel tilts his forehead to yours.

“I know y’do.”

As much as he fought it, worried about it, somewhere deep inside he knows exactly how you feel. He also knows he feels the same.

Written across my fuckin’ forehead, isn’t it?

But, unlike him, you'd never taken a break from loving things. You hadn't spent years denying that you were even capable of it anymore. He could not say it. But he could show it.

Your anxiousness melts away when Joel pushes into you slowly, savoring your expression. Total arousal and concentration has his mouth gaping. You nip at his bottom lip and he chases your mouth.

He can’t believe he’s doing this. For such a short amount of foreplay, you’re gushing for him. He almost gave this up over fear of letting you in? This with a woman who loves him? God, he is a coward.

“Don’t deserve this,” it’s a throaty moan as the patch of hair between his hips scratches yours. He looks down at the place he’s joined with you.

What a fuckin’ sight, Joel feels the spark at the base of his spine and almost comes right there.

“Oh, fuck,” you thread your fingers back through Joel’s hair.

Your breasts press into his hard chest as you arch to accommodate him. It doesn’t even hurt, you’ve been so thoroughly turned on by him. You just need Joel as deep as he can be in you, in all possible ways.

He drags himself out, then slowly eases back in. You whimper with the deviance of a man being inside you. Not just any man, either, as you’d told him moments ago. But Joel. Beautiful, emotionally fragile, powerful Joel who felt loyalty toward you, who protected you, who cared for you.

He drops his mouth to bruise yours, overwhelmed by your reaction to him. His pace picks up until his fingers dig into your waist as you cling to him. You try to keep the need to be silent forefront, but it was so difficult with Joel possessing you, forcing noises to exist. He clasps a large hand over your mouth.

He closes in over you, muttering, “How bad I wanna hear those noises. Wish I could hear how much you like it.” His hand slides up over your breast, manhandling slightly.

“I thought about your hands,” you adjust his fingers to admit in a whisper. "Thought about them all over me."

“Hm, did you?” His voice is thick with lust.

Before you can answer, he wraps his hand around your throat, and, watching your eyes, squeezes the sides carefully. Only enough to remind you how strong he is, what you do to him, and how utterly safe you are with him. He kisses you again, hard, and it's full of those promises.

It’s then that the tense pleasure building in your core snaps into an electric fire in your muscles. Writhing underneath him, he feels it, too.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he slows his thrusts while your body squeezes him.

“Oh, my god, Joel,” you cry as quietly as you can. You’ll never get off him after this.

It's the first time you've sung his name, and Joel knows he is well and truly fucked. He releases his grip. You grasp his hand and kiss his knuckles slowly.

He arches your hips and shoves his balled-up jacket underneath you. Joel places his hand over your mouth and thrusts into you with barely-controlled force, grunting with primal intent.

Your cry is muffled and distorted as he pushes inside you over and over. He rubs against a spot that makes you arch into him and decides that's his favorite. His thumb rolls over your sensitive mound and, combined with his filthy words, you feel him building another wave of euphoria.

All you know is his name, repeated over and over in your mind to remind you that Joel is the one making you feel this good. That knowledge alone shoves you back to the edge.

His lips are at your ear, and his accent is the strongest you’ve ever heard it, “Knew you’d feel like this. Always throwin’ yourself at me. Darin’ me to fuck you. Wantin' me to do it,” he can’t help himself: he tenderly bites and sucks at your neck just below your ear.

“Look so fuckin’ good underneath me,” he praises, his cadence clipped with exertion.

But Joel is tireless in his pursuit. Determined to show you how you make him feel. Determined to take what was already his. Hellbent on fucking you until it hurt to walk tomorrow. Shit, maybe he’d carry you. He felt free, wild.

It’s the way he consumes your body with his hands, his lips, his tongue as he fucks you that has your mind reeling into another realm, or falls off a cliff, or wherever it is he sends you. Your body is as taut as a bowstring before it snaps the second time. The pleasure of Joel playing your body like a guitar fills your bones, your veins.

“Y’still with me?” Joel presses a kiss to your lips. You feel yourself clench a final time around nothing. He sits back.

Absently, you run a hand along your stomach and feel a substance. You raise your eyes to his, and he grins sheepishly. It’s such an intimate smile, it hurts. He takes a shirt and wipes your skin.

“Sorry 'bout the mess. Wanted to pull out in time to come on the shirt or somethin’ but…”

He takes your hand, helping you sit up, and kisses your chin, cradling your face. You kiss him with fervor, and he breaks it to finish, “But you’re too damn much.”

“I’m never just right, am I?” You joke. You count on your fingers: “Too happy, too talkative, too argumentative, and now just too much.”

He grabs and kisses your fingers, saying huskily, “’s the way you should be."

"Put your clothes on," you laugh and follow your own advice.

"Yes, ma'am," he picks up his jeans and pulls them on without buttoning them, and you think about ripping them off and going for round two. You can see the brunette curls poking out invitingly.

He puts his undershirt on, then drags your sleeping bag to his. He unzips both bags to lay flat. A bed and a blanket.

"C'mere," he relaxes on the makeshift bed, holding an arm out to you.

After everything, this was what was going to make you cry? The sight of him, hair a mess, glowing in the firelight, enveloping you into his arms?

All those years staring at sunsets. Wish I could've been staring at this.

Tears prick your eyes as you kneel with him. He tucks you under his waiting arm and lies down, fitting you against him. His breath plays with your hair, and his hand trails up and down your arm soothingly.

"I thought this would never happen," you sigh.

There’s a moment of thought before Joel says, "Ah, shit. You were seventeen when-"

"Yep."

"Oh," he realizes you're a virgin. Or had been up until twenty minutes ago. He feels uncertain. "You okay?"

You laugh, "Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?"

"Wasn't really romantic."

"You and a fireplace? That's way more romantic than I would've asked for. I'd have been happy with you and a backseat or you and a tree."

You feel Joel's chuckle roll through his chest. He viciously revels in your words. All you wanted was him.

"That wasn't what I meant, though. I meant that I thought you'd never - that you didn't feel anything like I did."

"Mm," he tenses. "Course I do."

Communication was not his strong suit, and in this moment, he does not want to fuck anything up.

"Better for me to show you."

"And I prefer that any time," you praise him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Fucking finally, holy shit."

Ellie stands above with folded arms and the smuggest smile you've ever seen.

"You guys must've been freezing down here because somehow you ended up all cuddled together and I know for sure you'd never do that willingly because you guys hate each other," she sarcastically monologs.

Your face feels like you held it above the now-dead fire.

Joel hasn't moved. Maybe he was pretending she couldn't see him.

In the night, the two of you must've rolled over, because you're curled around his back, arm slung over his side. Your nose had buried itself into the waves at the nape of his neck.

"Ellie?" You cover your eyes. "Shut the fuck up."

She just laughs.

"Now does this mean there will be more or less bickering? Because sometimes it's entertaining but sometimes, fucking hell, you guys really go at it."

Joel finally stirs, heaving a massive sigh. "You ain't gonna leave us alone, are you?"

Ellie wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Should I?"

Joel shoots her a glare.

Ellie makes eyes at you and you know she wants to barrage you with questions. You suppose it'll come sooner or later, and it's better if Joel's not there.

"Joel," you start, not sure what to suggest, but then he sits up.

"I'm headin' outside."

The door closes as he tugs his jacket on, and Ellie looks at you with poorly-contained excitement.

"What the fuck happened?"

"Shhh! Shit, Ellie, it's not a big deal." You haven't decided how much you're telling her.

Her glare could kill a horse. "Not a big deal? It's Joel. Mr. Antisocial. And you've been pining after him this whole damn time."

You shush her again, "He's going to fucking hear you."

"You think he doesn't know?" She asks incredulously; your affection for him was so obvious that she thought even Joel couldn’t have missed it.

You exhale sharply, "No, he definitely knows that now. I mean he doesn't know how long. It's embarrassing."

"So, he… knows now?"

Shit.

You physically deflate. You'll have to tell her. She'll wheedle or smart it out of you eventually.

"We… worked it out."

Ellie starts laughing.

"You FUCKED HIM." She laughs harder at the new territory. It was funny, and kind of bizarre to have a man come into the picture after all of these years and change everything.

You can’t help but laugh resignedly, "Don't be so crass. You don’t need the details.”

“I don't want the damn details.” She looks nauseated at the thought. “I can’t believe I leave you alone for one night and you pounce on the poor man.”

“I didn’t pounce on him,” you retort, even though you literally did. “We talked about some shit that went down in the woods last week and… and some other things. It was a mature conversation. I hope the bickering will be much less.” Then you add, “But I wouldn’t count on that.”

“Just don’t forget I exist.” Ellie semi-jokingly requests.

“Ellie,” you stand and hug her tight. “Don’t even say that. It’d never happen.”

“I know. I guess if anyone had to be as wonderful as me, I’m glad it’s Joel.”

“It’s not a competition. I’m also happy to know you're not mad,” you chuckle.

"Mad? It's like I got a brother. A… much older brother." She makes a face at you. "More like a dad."

"You never heard of DILFs?"

"You're gross."

Continue ->

#my fics #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou

429 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 11 months

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 13)

Word count: 12.1k

Pairings: Sam x OC, Jake x Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, smoking, language, fluff, angst, smut.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

A/N: This chapter has to be broken into two parts thanks to Tumblr's character limits. I know this is a long one, but I hope you can stick with it until the end and then read part two! I promise this will be the only one that is this long. We will go back to our regular sized chapters next week. Enjoy!

READ CHAPTER 12 FIRST!

AUSTIN CITY LIMITS

JAKE POV

The time had come to return to the office space to regroup after most of Strange Horizons had wrapped up, and you were excited to discuss your new ideas with management. Many inebriated nights with your brothers had formulated a deep and diverse plan for the inevitable next leg of tour, and your ideas just kept building and building.

The pandemic had placed a huge damper on your initial tour schedule, release dates and shows being pushed back dramatically. Not to mention having to deal with all of the new rules that were placed last year for venues…though it had been over a year since the world shut down, the effects were still massively trickling down.

As you entered the office together, you thought back to over a year ago...the four of you had locked yourselves in a secluded cabin in the Smoky Mountains for a portion of time that you scarcely remember, only leaving to get supplies and food. It was there that you crafted a list of songs, some brand new and some dusted off from the depths of your library.

The isolation that you felt being tucked away in the mountains was the perfect setting for the way you all wanted the album to be…loud, dynamic, mysterious, orgasmic and borderline perfect. Not a note out of place. You’d talked about making an album like this for as long as you’d been a band, and you’d decided it was time to make it happen. What better time to create it than in the midst of a worldwide shutdown?

“Let’s make it sound like a film soundtrack, without the film…” Sam had said, setting the premise for exactly how he envisioned it.

“Ha, a man after my own heart.” Josh had responded. “Are you saying you want to make the soundtrack to my first film before I even know what it’s about?”

Late nights had turned to early mornings of writing riffs, and introducing lyrics that spoke about the current state of the world and the more difficult subjects. Josh was truly in his element when it came to storytelling through his lyrics; you were absolutely blown away by his ability to talk about the here and now while making it sound like you were reading from a 500 year old novel. More often than not, partaking turned into conversations with the ghosts you were certain inhabited the old cabin’s walls, thrusting you into sleepless nights spent laying down haunting samples on Sam’s piano.

Sam’s sonic concentration and being able to hear the music before you had even laid it down was perfectly tuned in…Daniel’s ability to think outside of the box when it came to bringing everything together as a whole...you found yourselves in a true state of enlightenment, visually and instrumentally, and you prayed that the outcome of your hard work was to be accepted well.

Strange Horizons had been the trial run, and now it was time for your bigger idea to come to life.

“We want to call it Dreams in Gold. A lyric from the magnum opus of the album, the crowning achievement of our careers so far. The premise of this album is a concoction of stories being told, dreams, if you will. We’ve got ideas all the way down to stage setting and album art. Every element is going to be intentional, and is going to tie into one another. It’s going to be all about details. The whole thing is going to be a journey, just like the storyline of the album itself. We want to include commissioned artists that we find organically, as well, to help with our visuals.”

“To begin with, we want to entice people to get back outside, hit the road and come and join us at shows. We’ve all been cooped up for too long and we want to show the fans that we’re still here. So, yes, we’re ready for another lengthy tour.” Josh began the meeting by condensing the details into a concise introduction to the panel of your management team.

After a few hours of debating and compromise, the initial plans were set, and management was ecstatic about your new ideas. Things were truly looking great.

You had one more small run of shows planned, a two-weekend span at Austin City Limits festival in Texas, then you were off to Los Angeles. Until then, it was time to relax, recharge, and enjoy every second alone with your girl.

HER POV

OCTOBER 2021

As you waited for the front desk attendant to finish with the person in front of you, your eyes flicked to the TV screen behind the desk, ‘Welcome to Austin’ it read in bright blue letters.

It was late, nearly 11:00pm when you finally arrived in Texas, flights delayed for nearly 2 hours due to weather. The van was late to pick you up at the airport and overall everyone was in a foul mood, yourself included.

“Next! Hi, how can I help you?” he asked.

“Hi, I just need to check in. Should be six rooms, under this name.” you say sliding the man your ID.

He clicks around on his computer for a few minutes, brow furrowing as he looks to you, “I see five rooms under this name. Looks like one was canceled about two weeks ago, and one was upgraded.”

“I’m sorry? Which room was canceled?” you ask.

“Looks like a Queen Non-Smoking…oh, actually the name on the room is yours.” he says, nervously.

“Mhmm, and the upgraded room?” you ask.

“Jacob Kiszka? Upgraded to a King Suite.” he answers.

“Okay, and can you tell me who authorized the change?” you ask.

“Looks like it was Mr. Kiszka, ma’am.” he answers.

“Right... Okay. Well, that’s fine. Thank you.” you say, accepting your ID back from him.

“Here are your room keys, two in each pocket. The elevators are just to your left, vending and ice on each floor. If there’s anything I can do for you, just call the front desk.” he smiles.

“Thank you.” you say, grabbing the keys and turning back to head towards your group.

“Alright guys, let's end this miserable day. Sam…” you hand him his key.

“Daniel…Josh… Summer…” you say in succession, handing them each their key cards.

“Jacob.” you say handing him his.

“We have to be down here, in this spot ready to leave at 11:00am. The festival is being very stringent on timing, if we are late we don’t get any kind of sound check. Maybe a line check at best.” you say, as everyone begins rolling their luggage towards the elevators.

“Yes mother.” Josh replies with a smile.

As you all load into the elevator, everyone checks their floors, and presses their respective buttons, as it begins to rise. One by one they exit the elevator, first Summer, then Daniel, followed by Elle and Sam, leaving you, Jake and Josh in the tiny enclosed space.

Josh looks at the two of you, a knowing but contemplative look on his face as the elevator reaches his floor and the doors spring open. He steps out of the elevator, pausing to turn to the two of you. You can see the words on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back and smiles as the doors close again.

You don't look at Jake until the doors fling open two floors above. You step out, and make your way to your room, pulling your suitcase next to you as you walk. As you stand at the door you stare at the wall, not making eye contact with him as he steps up to meet you.

“Baby…” he whines. “Don’t be mad…”

You turn to face him. “I would like to go to bed.” you hiss.

With a huff he taps the key card to the door, letting it unlock as you push it open.

He rolls both of your suitcases inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

You slip your shoes off and walk across the room, pulling the curtains shut as you start to undress. “You can't just…do that! What if…someone found out! I would have no way to explain this!” you say, raising your voice.

“It’s fine baby. No one is going to know.” he says, trying to ease your tension.

“Josh knows! He totally knows. He basically just told us he knows and he didn’t even say anything!” you say, pulling your pajamas from your suitcase.

You pull on your pajama shorts, and slide your arms through the top as you start to button the buttons.

“Listen…” he says, making his way over to you. “If our secret is safe with anyone, it’s him. People will eventually find out love, and personally I’m ready to shout it from the rooftops.” he says, his fingers taking over buttoning up your top. As he fastens the last button he rests his hand on the back of your neck, “I have slept next to you almost every night for weeks now. I’m not giving that up. No chance.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sigh, leaning into his chest as you wrap your arms around him. His bare skin on your cheek is warm, and calming. His very presence centering you and bringing you back down to earth. “I’m not mad. I’m just…afraid of getting caught by the wrong person, you know?” you say.

“I know. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. I promise.” he says, squeezing you one last time before letting you go.

He walks over to his suitcase and grabs his phone charger, plugging it into the wall as he strips off his pants. You knew you would never grow tired of seeing him like that.

You slipped into the overly fluffy bed, and made your way to the middle, fluffing the pillows behind you.

“Oh you think you’re sleeping in the middle, huh?” he asks playfully, turning off the lamp.

He pulls the blankets back, sliding in next to you as he circles his arms around your waist. He lays his head on your chest, listening to the sound of your beating heart as he hums a tune..‘she’s a woman in a dream…’

“Thanks for not getting mad. I know it’s stupid and careless, but I… sleep better next to you.” he says softly into your chest.

“Mmhmmm… that’s the only reason right?” you ask.

“The list is endless of reasons that I need you.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips and quickly pulling away to turn over to his back.

You whine at the loss of his warmth, and you feel the bed shake with his chuckle, “Come on…” he says, opening his arms to you. You scoot further onto his side of the bed, and place yourself into his arms.

He nuzzles his head into the top of yours, taking a deep breath. “Okay, my boss said I can’t be late tomorrow or I'll get in trouble, so I have to go to bed.” he says.

You giggle into his neck, as you twist your fingers with his. ‘Love you…”

“I love you too.” he says, and not too shortly after you both fall into a well deserved sleep.

—

JAKE POV

“I’ll go down first, then you come down in like ten minutes?” she said, a serious look on her face as she flicked through her iPad.

“You got it. Hey…” you said, pulling her by her waist.

She drops the iPad to her side as her eyes meet yours.

“You’re killing it. Best coordinator we’ve ever had. So proud of you.” you say, really meaning every word.

You could see her eyes beginning to grow misty at your words, so with a quick kiss, and a promise of later, you shooed her out the hotel room door to begin your ten minute wait.

—

Shockingly, everyone arrived downstairs on time and the van was parked and waiting for you at the entrance. Today was already going ten times better than yesterday, and you could tell Y/N was feeling less stressed because of it.

As you all loaded into the van, you sat in the back with Josh, and scrolled through news on your phone.

Josh

11:07am: Anything you’d like to share?

You

11:08am: No thanks. I’m done sharing with my siblings.

Josh

11:09am: So…

You

11:10am: Later

The van arrived at the back gates, and you all made your way to the artist check in table, securing your wristbands and being shown to the area where your things were being loaded in. Your crew had been here since early this morning, getting the stage pieces loaded in and the gig boxes situated where they needed to be. Slated to go on at 6:30, you got there with enough time for a quick sound check, before spending the rest of the day exploring, and getting ready in your trailer for the day.

It was hot in Texas, significantly hotter than Nashville, and the sun beating down on you had you sweating even from just standing outside. You and Daniel drew the short straws on the artist interview, so as you stood and waited for your time slot, you turned to Daniel, “What’s up with you man? What’s going on? Where is Heidi?”

He clapped his hand against your shoulder blade and sighed, “She is…busy. At least that’s what she keeps telling me.”

You smiled as you shook your head, “Ahh…sorry to hear that dude.”

“Nah, you know what? It’s fine actually. Feels like things have kind of run its course, ya know? I’m starting to figure out who I am without her. Feels good.” he says, as you both take a step forward.

“Just want to see you happy brother, whatever that means for you.” you reply.

“Could say the same to you. Been a rough couple of weeks.” he says, trailing off.

“It has. But things are looking up.” you say, pushing up your sunglasses on your nose.

“Are they?” he asks.

You nod slowly, as the interviewer welcomed you to her table, relieving you from having that conversation just yet.

—

A few hours and a few drinks later, you are feeling loose and free and happy preshow, for the first time since this tour started. Your skin felt stiff from the salt in your sweat and you wished you could just jump into the shower to rinse off.

Making your way to the trailer, you stepped inside, but in the bathroom found no shower. Great.

Sam entered a few minutes later, and he was just as sweaty as you were. “This fucking sun is nuts.” you said, leaning against the couch.

“I know, I need a damn shower.” he said.

“Isn’t one. Already looked.” you replied.

“My hair is fucked. Maybe I can just wet it.” you said, staring off into space.

Sam grabbed two water jugs from under the table and held them up with a suspicious smile. “Like the old days?”

It really had been a while since you did this, taking turns pouring water jugs for each other, not able to shower daily as you toured across the US in that tiny little van. Times had changed, but you knew you weren’t above it, and you never would be. You knew your roots.

Stepping outside you grabbed a lawn chair and took your shirt off, “Me first, then you?” you ask.

“Let’s do it.” he replied.

You sat down in the chair and threw your hair over the back, letting Sam pour the water over your head until it was completely saturated down to your roots. The water ran over your face and you wiped at your hairline, hoping most of the sweat would wash away. He continued pouring until the jug was empty and you felt your hair was clean enough. He ran his fingers through your hair, one last time as you heard footsteps approaching.

“What are you two doing?” Y/N’s voice filled with laughter as she watched on.

“We are playing beauty salon! I have an opening at 5:00, if you’d like to book!” Sam answered enthusiastically.

She laughed and shook her head as she walked off, and you felt your chest grow warm, but this time it wasnt from the heat.

—

A few hours later, dressed in one of your favorite suits, you looked yourself over in the mirror feeling extremely confident about tonight's show. You knew you weren’t going to hold back. You were going to lay it all out there wordlessly confessing that the stars aligned in your favor after all these years. This one was for her.

As you and your brothers took your shots and said your words of encouragement, you watched as Y/N checked over each of your outfits as you exited the trailer, saving yourself for last.

As the door slammed shut behind Sam, you made your way over to her, iPad clutched to her chest as she smiled at you.

“I thought the green suit was my favorite… but now I don't know. You look…” she trailed off.

“Really? I wasn’t too sure about all the sparkly stuff at first, but it’s kind of growing on me.” you smile.

“Jake…really. With your complexion, and your hair… you look so good. I have half a mind to make you change into something else.” she giggled.

Your favorite giggle.

“Anyways, you look perfect. Get out there, make me proud.” she smiled, and you laughed, knowing you were going to do just that.

As you twisted the knob on the door, you stopped to look at her. “It’s all for you.”

Her cheeks grew pink as she pressed a kiss to your cheek, and ushered you out the door. It really was all for her. It always has been.

—

As you made your way up the steps, your tech handed you your guitar and you took the stage, the crowd roaring violently in front of you. Your body felt like it was on fire as you played the opening notes, the deafening noise of the screams from thousands of people just fueling the flame. You finally had everything. You finally felt true happiness, and the best part was that tonight, when it was all over, and the room was quiet you got to share it with her.

The fire you had raging in your bones for this entire show continued to engulf you...you weren’t sure if it was the setting, the heat, or the fact that you finally had your girl back, but damn it felt good to be playing to a crowd again.

You were two songs away from ‘Highway Tune’, and the sun was beginning to set. You took the tiniest of breaks, allowing yourself to look out over the crowd as darkness began to set in. The sweating, exhausted, blissed-out fans were having the time of their lives, and you were truly mirroring them tonight. You were giving it everything you had. You smiled as you made eye contact with a few of them, watching as they fell apart on their friends after you did so. Always so funny to see them react that way just because you looked at them.

Even with watching all these people, Y/N was filling your mind. All your thoughts, connected back to her. She was the one who was keeping this fire burning so bright. She gave you a reason.

You glanced at Josh, then back out to the crowd again. As he spoke, something caught your eye…something, someone...very familiar in the audience. The crowd was an ocean of moving bodies, hindering your vision as you tried to zero in. You caught quick glimpses every few seconds, trying not to crane your neck or be caught staring. Was that…?

The cue came through to begin ‘The Weight of Dreams’, and your muscle memory kicked into high gear as you played, and scanned the crowd again. Red hat, white shirt. Your heart sank into your stomach. You were sure.

You continued to play as you looked at Josh, making the eye contact only he, Sam, and Danny could recognize. You proceeded with the song as normal, trying to stay present with the crowd and your guitar.

There he was again, in plain view.

Fucking. Hell.

The song went on, and you decided to forget for just a second. You trailed into your solo…7 minutes of most jarring guitar succession you’d ever written. The fire was still burning.

You pranced around the stage wildly, getting closer and grabbing a few different angles. It also gave you a chance to hop onto the audience speakers for an even closer look.

Positive.

You wrapped it up, jumping back onto the stage, and rushing to the band mic. You looked to Sam intently, grabbing his attention as quickly as you could. You pressed your lips to the mic, and spoke as clearly as you could.

“Hey, listen to me….11 o'clock, about ten rows back. Red hat, white shirt. Please tell me I’m wrong.” You held eye contact with Sam, and he nodded in understanding.

Danny glanced at you, and mouthed “I can’t see that far.” You shrugged him off, motioning that you would explain later.

Josh had been speaking to the crowd, and you were unsure whether or not he had paid attention to what you said.

You began ‘Highway Tune’, and were determined to finish the show with a bang. About halfway through, you looked to Sam, who had a panicked look on his face. Shit, you must be right. You raised your eyebrows to him for confirmation, which he returned with a horrified nod.

You wrapped up the show without a hitch, proud of the way you all had played. You took off in a sprint, looking for Y/N. You needed to see her face, but she was nowhere to be found.

The rest of the guys ran up beside you, panting and out of breath, sticky with the sweat in the Texas heat.

“What the hell was that about? Who did you see?” Danny asked, worry in his voice.

You looked to Sam, your face down and fallen with dread.

“It was Andy.”

—

Panic, dread, fear, the overwhelming need to find Y/N…all of it taking up your mind at once. You all pulled off your in-ears and disposed of your instruments with the techs as quickly as you could. You were pacing around backstage, not bothering to talk to anyone or give anyone the time of day. You just needed to find her. Make sure she was safe. You looked behind you, all three of your brothers following you doing the same exact thing. My boys.

“Hey, there she is!” Sam yelled from behind you, pointing over behind a trailer in the lot. The four of you rushed up to her, almost crashing into one another as you came to a stop. You inspected her, almost completely forgetting you couldn’t take her into a full embrace.

“Hey! God, what the hell is wrong with you guys?” She asked, stunned by your sudden presence.

“We uh, just couldn’t find you. We were wondering if you….wanted to go catch St. Vincent with us...we need to leave now if you do.” You spat, thinking on your toes.

She looked at you sideways. “You guys just stepped off stage...don’t you need to like…Go pee or something? Change clothes? Sit down?”

You glanced back at the guys, just as sweaty as you, all still dressed in your stage clothes.

“Yeah, yeah, we'll change really quick. But, meet us back here in 10?” Sam said.

Her face grimaced up in confusion. “Uh, I have to close up with the crew…” she glanced at her phone checking the time. “I’ve got a lot to do still...before I can–”

“Don’t worry about it. Get what you need to do done, and meet us back here ASAP. We’ll wait for you to walk over.” Josh said, throwing you a knowing glance.

“Alright, yeah okay...I’ll text Elle and meet you back here...” her face was wrought with confusion at your display. She walked away, radioing to someone about something.

You took back off as a group, walking quickly and scanning the grounds. Your head felt hot and your eyes felt glassy. You finally made it to the trailer, and you were all quiet until you shut the door, the A/C feeling like it could knock you down.

You immediately sat on the couch, putting your head in your hands. “What the fuck is he doing in Texas?!” You yelled, standing back up and beginning to undress. Sam had gone over to the mini fridge, and he pulled out a seltzer for everyone, popping the top on yours and handing it to you. You practically chugged its contents, not realizing how thirsty you were.

“Man, chill out. Maybe he moved here. Just going to the festival…” Danny offered, trying to give the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah maybe. But remember how fucking insane he was…he was the last person I expected to see when I looked out there. Just really…strange...right?” You asked.

The rest of them nodded in agreement. “Yeah, really fuckin’ strange.” Josh said, pulling off his clothing and hanging it on a hanger. “But, don’t stress out too bad. We’re all here, there’s thousands of people around…it’ll be okay. Just an anomaly.”

You could always count on Josh to bring you back down to reality. He was right, it was probably just a huge coincidence. A wild one, but a coincidence nonetheless. But, Andy knew who you were, who the band was…why did he come to watch? And stand fairly close to the front near you, at that?

You shook the thoughts from your head, trying to stay positive. Everyone continued to get changed and started downing drinks, pregaming for the rest of the shows tonight.

“Hey, I don’t think we should tell Y/N he’s here. It would probably ruin her night, don’t you think Sam?” You shot Sam a look that screamed ‘please agree with me’.

“Yeah, I agree. We’ll never see him again, so. Let’s just let her have a good time.” Sam played along.

“Jake, what the actual fuck were you on tonight? I’ve never seen you solo like that before…that was nuts, dude...I thought you’d never cue me to stop.” Danny said, plopping down on the couch.

“Yeah no shit!” Sam said. “My feet were getting sore.”

You grinned, knowing all too well why you were playing better, but not able to speak on it quite yet.

“Ahh, I dunno. Must be something in the air...” you offered.

Josh approached you slowly and talking quietly, wearing his knowing face. “Hey, are you and Y/N okay? I know things were still really rocky last time we talked…” he had sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Uh, yeah actually. We’re okay. We talked a little bit without ripping each other’s head off, so…” you couldn’t say anything more right now, though you never kept any secrets at all from Josh, this one needed to be kept as long as possible. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t kind of enjoying the idea of sneaking around.

He looked at you again, squinting his eyes.

“What?” You asked.

“Hmmmm...nothing. But you’re a fuckin’ idiot if you think I don’t know when you’re lying. We do share the same brain cells, you know.” He said, walking back over to join Danny on the couch.

You slipped on a more comfortable pair of shoes, and placed a flat-brimmed hat on your head. “Alright, let’s get going. We don’t want to miss the shows. I wonder if Duran Duran can still...Duran?” you said in a faux british accent.

Sam shoved your shoulder as you passed by him. “Ha ha, that was such a good one Jake.”

“I’m full of them. I’ll be here all night.” You flicked the brim of your hat, and tossed back the rest of your drink, crushing your can as you exited the door. A sharp pain flew up your arm when you dropped the can in the trash, an all too familiar feeling that hadn’t hurt this bad in years.

——

Y/N had magically finished up what she needed to do in that short amount of time, and managed to find Elle, too. You all met at the corner of the lot, and walked over to backstage of the next show. The sun had set now, and you were finally starting to relax a little bit after seeing Andy earlier. He gave you an eerie feeling, almost one that creeped you out, for some reason. You felt confident that Danny and Josh were right, and he was just here for the festival.

Y/N had changed into a short little green dress, that was low cut in the front and flowy, and sat right at her mid-thigh. You knew she had chosen that exact dress to tease you, and she watched as your sunglass-covered eyes traveled up and down her body, undressing her with each glance. You slowly shook your head back and forth, letting her know that she was indeed making you suffer.

You all stayed side stage for the majority of the next two shows, and the night was going well. You kept your distance from Y/N, and watched from afar as she danced and drank with Elle. Occasionally, your glances would meet up, and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away from her.

You were feeling fairly tipsy, conversing with other musicians and people in the industry. Suddenly the delicious and familiar aroma of marijuana slid past your nose, and you followed it to its source. Josh and Sam, of course. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, and went and joined them.

The whole group shared what must have been three or four joints, as the last artist played into their late-night set. The haze in the air was heavy, and you felt the fuzz climb into your face and extremities. Ahh, there it is.

Things began to move in slow motion under your hooded eyelids, the music sounding louder and better..everyone started to dance and move their bodies with the beat. Your eyes drifted to Y/N, you could tell she was feeling it too.

“I gotta hit the head, you wanna go?” Sam shouted over the music in your ear. You nodded, noticing your full bladder. He took Elle’s hand and pulled her behind him as you followed them off the stage.

“My god, I’m really fuckin high…” Elle giggled at herself as you made your way across the lot to the restrooms.

“Yeah same, I scored some good shit down here.” Sam laughed. “We’ll wait for you out here, babe.” He said as you separated.

You and Sam stood next to each other, relieving yourselves in the urinals.

“So, when did you and Y/N finally fuck?!” He asked, loudly as ever.

“SAM! Goddamn, could you talk any louder? What is wrong with you? What are you talking about?” You spat at him from across the divider.

“Duuuude, don’t play dumb.” You could recognize his stoned voice from a mile away. “Come on. Unfortunately, I know her body just as well as you do, now. Maybe even better…? I know what she acts like when she’s been…satisfied.” Your mouth hung open at his words. He did nothing but stare at you, raising his eyebrows up and down.

You buttoned up your jeans, and walked over to the sink to wash your hands quickly, avoiding his question. You busted out the door, with him following close behind. You stood by the restroom entrance, waiting for Elle.

“Jaaaake, don’t avoid my question. I’m not stupid, I can read her body language. And yours too, if we’re being honest. You guys are gravitating towards each other again.” His words had begun to slur slightly. “How long ago?”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Chicago.”

He bounced away, clapping his hands loudly. “Ha! I knew it!!”

“Sam you can’t tell a fucking soul, do you hear me?” You got into his face, trying your best to threaten him like you did when you were kids.

He held his hands up in submission. “I promise.” You turned away.

Suddenly he was next to you again. “I will say though, she’s become a bit of a freak in the sheets, if ya know what I mean. You better start building up that stamina…” he said quietly. “You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It wasn’t funny, it shouldn’t be funny, but it was. The whole situation, sharing this conversation with your little brother. All of it was so fucked up.

He started to laugh with you. You grabbed his shoulder, speaking through shared belly laughs. “So I’ve noticed, Sam. Appreciate that.” You shook your head at the awkward but hilarious conversation.

Elle emerged from the bathroom finding the two of you in stitches. “What are you two laughing about?” She said as you started the walk back to the stage.

“Oh nothing, just that him and Y/N finally slept together.” Sam said.

“Sam, I swear to god.” You said.

“OH MY GOD! You finally boinked?!” Elle said, a bit too loudly for your liking. “It’s about fucking time, Jake. What took you so long?!”

“Jesus Christ…” you said under your breath. “Elle, love, you promise me right now you will not tell a soul, okay? Her job is really…on the line.”

“I got it, Jake. She’s my best friend. I promise.” She zipped her lips and threw away the key, and you actually trusted that she would stay quiet.

—

You made your way back to the stage, suddenly feeling uneasy. You glanced around at the crowd, just waiting to see a red hat bobbing its way around. You found Y/N, still dancing and having a good time as the band wrapped up its last song.

“You guys want to come back to my room for one more smoke?” You asked the group, suddenly feeling the need to leave. Everyone nodded in agreement, as you started back down the steps.

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go take some stage shots. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Summer said, waving your group off.

The hotel was only a few minutes drive from the venue, and Sam had insisted the driver stop at the nearest gas station so he could buy beer. You could tell everyone was still feeling exceptionally high, but it was a nice feeling. You felt a little more at ease the further away you got from the venue.

Everyone gathered back in your room at the hotel, changed into comfortable clothes and toting cases of beer. You could afford to get cross faded tonight. Josh brought his speaker and asked Elle to hook up to the Bluetooth. Some Cajun-sounding flute music began to come through it, some gritty messy metallic sounds you thought sounded familiar.

“Elle, what is this?” You asked her as you sat down to roll a few more joints.

“Ry Cooder, he’s amazing.” She answered, pulling her lips from a bottle of Corona.

“My god, yeah, did he play with Taj Mahal?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Yep. I think they’re actually releasing an album together next year. So you’ve seen Southern Comfort, right?”

You grinned and nodded. “Yep. That must be why I know this.”

You could definitely see why Sam was attracted to her now.

Y/N joined her on the bed, popping the top off her own beer. Your eyes met hers for just a second, but long enough to linger. She’d changed into a thin and silky dress, with a flannel on top. Oh my god.Your flannel. The one you gave her at the lake, the one she borrowed every time she came over when you were younger. She actually kept it. Your face must have fallen at the sight, because she gave you the slightest wink while she sipped her beer.

Your hands suddenly became weak, the tiny ground pieces of weed falling from the sides of your half-rolled joint.

“Jake, what’s taking so long over there?” Josh asked.

“I’m rusty, you come fucking do it.” You answered.

You opened the double-door window of the room and turned on the vent of the bathroom so the smoke could escape, and you rolled a towel and tucked it under the door. It felt like high school again. It was still warm outside, and the breeze came in through the curtains, bringing with it a peaceful and relaxed feeling. Everyone was feeling themselves, passing several joints and listening to Josh tell elaborate stories.

Your bed was king sized and the room was larger than a standard room, so you found yourself feeling thankful you’d upgraded to a room large enough to accommodate everyone comfortably, completely by accident.

Everyone eventually gathered in a tight circle, seated on the bed. Y/N found her way over to you, sitting directly beside you. Shit, she was feeling it. And Danny and Josh didn’t completely know yet. At least, you thought they didn’t. Her hair brushed your shoulder, sending the smell of her directly to your nose. It was intoxicating having her that close, in that sexy dress, in your flannel…unable to touch her.

Danny had brought a deck of cards and a game of poker ensued. “We don’t have any chips, what could we use?” Elle asked.

“Ooooh we could use the hotel shampoo bottles and bars of soap and these quarters in my pocket.” Josh answered, laughing at himself through a goofy stoned giggle.

“Did someone say chips? I’m hungry…” Sam asked no one in particular.

An hour or so passed of talking, laughing, drinking, and smoking. Your head was absolutely spinning at this point, and Y/N’s hand just happened to keep landing on your knee. She was letting loose. Sam glanced up at you from under his hooded lashes, looking at her hand, then back to you, his eyebrows raising again. You felt a flush find your face as you realized just how high you actually were.

The room was full of smoke, a haze falling onto everything as everyone basked in their intoxication, and all you could feel anymore was a draw to her. She was like a hot magnet that you were being pulled to, unable to think about anything else other than having your way with her.

“Jake, that flannel looks very familiar...” Josh said, motioning to Y/N. You sighed. You couldn’t handle it any longer. You were over hiding her. You were in love with her, and your best friends deserved to know it. If anyone in the world could keep your secret, it was the people in the room with you right now.

“Well Josh, that’s because it’s mine. I gave it to her when we started dating when we were younger and I just…never asked for it back. I let her keep it.” You leaned back on your arms, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. He smiled at you, almost as if he was proud.

“Y/N, why didn’t you ever give it back to him?” Josh pressed.

The group went silent. She looked at Josh, somewhat surprised, but catching his drift. Then she brought her eyes to meet yours, deep and glassy and full of love. She placed her hand on your knee, lightly brushing her fingernails over it.

“Well Josh, because I love it too much. It makes me feel good. I want to keep it forever, keep it safe and loved...” she answered him, never removing her eyes from yours.

“And Jake, will you ever ask for it back?” Josh went on.

You kept your eyes locked on hers, and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers.

“No, Josh. It’s hers now. She can keep it for the rest of our lives.” You answered, your voice low and steady. Her face bloomed into a smile that went from ear to ear.

Josh chuckled as the group finally stirred. “Ha, well I guess it’s fucking settled then, isn’t it?” He said, reaching over and patting you between your shoulders, firmly holding your neck and shaking you side to side.

“Well hell yeah!” Danny exclaimed, coming across the circle and bringing the two of you in between both of his arms, hugging you tightly. The next thing you knew you had all fallen into a giant pile, laughing and hugging and falling off the bed in fits of giggles.

The relief that fell over you was immense…these were your best friends. The people you trusted the most in the world. The ones who would go to bat for you, and for Y/N, no matter what the circumstances.

In the cloudy air of the room, you felt your inhibitions begin to fall away. You found her in the pile of laughing bodies, and met her eyes, knowing that in that moment, you didn’t care who in the world knew it. You grabbed her face, and pulled her into a long and loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the rest of the group.

Her cheeks went flush when you pulled away, but she grabbed you back, pulling you in for one more. Sweet and passionate, but with something else hidden behind it. You knew that look from long ago, she didn’t want to wait much longer.

Everyone began to sit back up and find their seats on the bed again. Keeping direct eye contact with her, and bringing your face close to hers, lips almost touching, you spoke. “Hey, it’s been fun, but do you think you guys could get the fuck out of here?” Your eyes were unabashedly flicking from her eyes to her lips, plush and pink and waiting for you.

They all laughed in unison, and your ears went deaf to everything surrounding you. All you could see, all you could hear and feel, was her. Suddenly, you found yourselves alone, sitting on the bed, starving for one another.

Like clockwork, she quickly crawled over and pushed her lips into yours, her hands furiously wrapping in your hair, pulling it and tangling it between her fingers. She stood up on her knees, and you brought your hands underneath her dress to cup her ass. Her tongue was immediately in your mouth, searching deeply for parts yet unexplored. You felt a deep hunger in your gut for her, something that felt like starvation that could never be satiated.

You growled into her mouth as she bit your tongue, pulling it from your mouth and into hers. The wind picked up outside and blew across you, lifting her dress a little, revealing more of her body to your naked eye.

She yanked on your hair at the back of your neck, pulling your head backwards to look her in the eyes. You scanned her eyes from left to right, reading a story that was only half-written. She smiled a devious smile, and connected your lips again. You squeezed her ass cheeks hard, pulling them apart and pulling her body into you. You separated yourself from her lips, and began kissing her throat, her neck, her collarbones, and in between her breasts. God, they were so beautiful.

You picked her up by the waist, forcefully lying her down on the bed. You began to pull up on her dress, successfully removing it over her head.

“You thought you could wear this dress, and MY clothing, in front of everyone, and expect me to not want to fuck you right here? Torture isn’t nice, love.” you said, pulling her arms above her head and pinning them there, diving into her neck again.

“No Jacob, torture isn’t for the meek.” She responded, making your eyes roll back in your head. Oh, so it’s gonna be this kind of game. Let’s see what Sammy was talking about…

The both of you were blazed out of your minds, your eyes heavy and red, not to mention the drinking you’d both been doing all night. You decided to let it work to your advantage, though, watching her as all your inhibitions went straight down the drain. Nothing felt off the table.

You buried yourself in her hair, letting your tongue graze over her ear as you held her arms steady above her. You had one knee beside her, and one knee between her legs, hovering above her as she dug her fingertips into your sides. “Jake…” she spoke.

“Hmmm?” You breathed into her ear.

“You have entirely too much clothing on.” she said.

You pulled back, realizing she was correct. She was down to her lace bra and panty set, while you still had everything but your shoes on. You sat up and began to unbutton your shirt, keeping your eyes glued to hers. She reached up and grabbed your hands, stopping their movements.

“Hang on a sec, let’s make this interesting.” she said. Her eyes were heavy and solid, thick with intoxication from the weed, and from you. With that, she unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, but left it hanging over your shoulders. Then she reached down to your belt, unbuckling it and undoing the zipper.

“Let me help–” you said, reaching to pull your dark jeans off.

“No, leave them on. Come to the edge of the bed.” She commanded, signaling with her finger for you to follow her as she rolled off the end and into the floor.

She perched sitting on her knees, and you did what she told you, sitting with your feet on the floor right in front of her. She lurched forward, bringing her face between your legs. She rested her hands on your knees, pulling them apart a little bit to gain more access. She brought her mouth to your hardened length, dragging her tongue across the tip that was still covered by your boxers.

The indirect contact and the warmth of her mouth felt like heaven. She began nipping at it with her teeth, causing you to inhale quickly. You brought your hands to her head, envisioning the last time she’d done this, not long ago on the floor of your study.

She cupped her lips overtop of your head, blowing warm air into the fabric. Your brain was buzzing with intensity, but you needed more. You needed to feel her. Almost as if she heard your thoughts, she reached her fingertips into the hole of your boxers, and freeing you through them instead of pulling them down. That’s different.

Suddenly her mouth was completely taking you into her throat to the hilt, your tip hitting the back of her throat as she immediately swallowed around you.

“Motherfuck, Y/N…” you hissed through your teeth. She’d taken you completely by surprise. She began bobbing her head, taking you as deeply as you could go, running her flattened tongue across all your sweet spots. She was starting to remember them. Her hands that were rested on your knees climbed up to squeeze your thighs, massaging them with her fingers. You tilted your head back in pleasure, letting your eyes fall closed.

“Hmm-mm...” she hummed ‘no’ around you, causing you to peer back down to her. She took her pointer and middle fingers making the ‘two’ signal, pointing to first your eyes, then hers. Eyes on her. She wanted you to watch her.

Good god.

You kept your silent word, watching her every move intently as she glided her mouth around your now soaked dick, popping her lips around it every so often, and squeezing your base with her hand. You felt yourself beginning to unravel, watching her mouth on you was like seeing something you weren’t supposed to see…so sinful…but so enticing…

“Shit baby...your mouth…is fucking heavenly...”

You grabbed her hair in your hand, remembering what she had said last time. ‘I want it…’

She nodded her head, again giving you the go-ahead to control her movements. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, feeling yourself near release. You tightened your grip on her locks, using a little extra force now as you pushed into her mouth, in and out with a bit more speed.

“Baby, I’m close…you’re almost…” the knot in your stomach began to unfurl, as the buildup approached. Just then, she removed herself completely, standing up and towering over you. She wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand as you felt lost without the contact, so close to your release.

“Ok, you can take your shirt off now.” She said, a devilish smile crossing her face.

You were basically panting with desire. “Wha–what?”

“You didn’t cum. Good job. You can take your shirt off now.” She said, not giving you much explanation, but feeding you enough information that you could see where this might be going.

You looked at her sideways, and slowly removed your shirt, tossing it into the floor. You leaned back on your elbows, eyeing her half-naked body standing before you. What next? You felt like you could jump out of your skin with excitement, the fog still heavy in your head.

“Up the bed…” she commanded again, motioning to the headboard. You did as she asked, your lower half still clothed with your dick still poking through the open hole of your boxers. She crawled on top of you, snaking her way up to meet your mouth with hers, laying wet and searing hot kisses to your lips.

She pulled away, turning herself around backwards and straddling you, her hands steadying herself on your thighs. She turned her head around to make eye contact with you, your eyes open wide with surprise.

She slowly shook her hips from side to side.

“Pull them to the side.” She said, demand thick in her voice. Yes ma’am.

You exhaled loudly, feeling a rush of blood to your face, and then straight to your already overly excited member. You did as she asked once more, hooking your finger in her lace thong, pulling it to the side. She arched her back so that her opening was pointed toward your face, and you felt your head plummet to her, your tongue immediately between her folds. Her mouth was on you again, as quickly as your tongue had found her. 69? Seriously, where did this woman come from?

You went to town, feeling like you were starving to touch her in any way you possibly could. You let your tongue do the talking, sliding it’s way up and down her slit, burying your face in her pussy. She tasted fucking phenomenal. You brought your hands to grasp the front of her thighs, trying to pull her toward you.

You felt her mouth bobbing at a sickening pace, not too fast, and not too slow. Her tongue was like silk, and it kept the saliva pooling inside her mouth while she flicked your tip, causing you to buck your hips into her.

“You can grind into my mouth, baby.” She purred, running her closed fist up and down you while she spoke. You took that as an invitation to slowly rock your hips up and down, slowly making circles and fucking into her face.

“So can you.” You responded. You felt her hips begin to gyrate slowly, positioning her sweet spot exactly where she needed it. You found her clit, and tightened your tongue muscle so that it pointed directly onto it. You quickly bobbed it in and out of your mouth before you pulled it all the way in, and began flicking it with your tongue again.

“Fuckkkk yes Jake. Oh my god…” her whimpers spurred you on, and apparently her too, as she then took you extremely deep again, tightening all of her mouth and throat around you. You felt yourself nearing release again. Her fist was working you, bringing you closer and closer to the white hot heat.

She pulled off again, turning herself around to face you. You let your head fall back against the pillows, a sheen of sweat beginning to cover your face.

“Damnit baby, you are killing me.” You laughed into the room, bringing your hands through your hair. “What’s with the punishment?”

“Not punishment, baby. Are you enjoying yourself?” She asked, slithering her way back up between your legs.

You shook your head maybe a little too fast.

“Yeah, yes. I’m enjoying myself.” You answered.

“Okay then, it’s not punishment. You can take your pants off.” She said, a smirk forming on her face before she gave you a sweet peck on your still soaked lips.

“Errrhhhh…finally.” You said, clipping your thumbs in your bottoms, pulling them both off in one swipe. You bounced back on the bed, bringing your arms around her and pulling her down into you. You allowed yourselves a few minutes to indulge in one another, kissing into each other furiously, finally feeling your naked body brushing and pressing up against hers. You suddenly felt like you were leaving her untouched, so you gripped her hips, pulling yourself down the bed underneath her. You hooked your fingers in her thong and pulled it down, signaling for her to bring her legs together so you could pull it down over her knees. She obliged, surprisingly.

“My turn, love. Climb up. All fours.” You tapped the backs of her thighs, making her inch her way up the bed. She listened, positioning herself overtop of your ready and waiting mouth. You opened wide, smiling as you stuck your tongue out. She was looking down at you between her legs, and she let out the sweetest giggle. You gripped around her folded legs as she lowered herself down.

“Mmmm...” you growled. “You think you can ride my face, baby?”

She didn’t even have to answer, she’d already made contact with your mouth. She instantly started grinding and bouncing, her wetness covering your entire face. But god, you didn’t care. You wanted to drown in her. Taste her forever. It was something you’d never forgotten. And now it was something you were sure you couldn’t live without.

You looked up at her body, reveling and rolling her hips in circles as your tongue danced inside her. She felt so warm, so delicious. You brought your hand to her mound, finding her clit with your thumb. You began swirling it, massaging it while you kept working inside her with your tongue. You were suffocating, fighting for air, but you couldn’t care less. You could do this all night.

Her sounds were like music to your ears, filling up your mind with the dirtiest thoughts. You fought to bring her there, you wanted her to spill herself around you and into your mouth, but instead you decided to play her game.

You reached up and unclasped her bra with one swift motion, pulling it down her arms and tossing it away. You lifted her off of you.

“Get my flannel.” You said, pointing to where it lay on the floor. She glanced over to it, then back to you, obviously pissed you stopped the ride of her life.

She reached over the side of the bed and picked it up, offering it to you.

You removed yourself from underneath her, “Turn around.” She gave you another side eye, but did what she was told.

You took the sleeves of your flannel, straightened them out, and gently pulled both of her hands behind her. You tied the sleeves of the flannel around her crossed wrists, leaving them a little bit of wiggle room. She peeked over her shoulder, making the most seductive eyes at you. You brought your mouth close to her ear, and grazed her cheek with your hand. “This ok, love?”

“You can tie it tighter, if you want.” she said.

Fuck, that’s exactly what Sam was talking about.

You laughed a low howl, pulling the sleeves a bit tighter, causing her back to arch. You noticed her body reacting, so you gripped the back of her hair, pushing her face down into the bed. You pressed your length up against her ass, and brought your face close to hers again.

“You thought you could tease me all night, edge me…well, time’s up. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.” You weren’t sure where these words were coming from, it wasn’t your normal bedroom talk. But she seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much.

“Just fucking do it, Jacob. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

You felt your face get hot...you’d seen her a thousand different ways before, but never quite like this. This vulnerability mixed in with her confidence was making your high come back full force. Your mouth had gone dry now from the after effects of the weed, your vision feeling delayed and stippled. Your ears felt like they had cotton in them, and the dopamine was swirling through your body. You could tell she was still faded too; her movements weren’t quick and calculated, but instead slow and sultry. And you were fucking loving it.

You noticed that the double door windows were still open, so you stood up to close them and the curtain.

“Leave them open. I don’t mind.” She said, surprising you.

“But someone might be able to see-“

“Let them watch.”

Holy. Fucking….

You dropped the act for long enough to truly press her.

“Wait seriously Y/N?” You asked. “You don’t care?”

All she did was shake her head. “No. I really don’t care. Now please come back.”

You shrugged it off, leaving the doors standing wide open, the act you were about to perform on full display for anyone who might happen to see.

You returned back to her, getting back in the headspace you needed to. Her hands were still tied behind her back, most of her face covered up by her hair.

The wind was blowing around again, sending chills all over your body. It was cooling off outside. You took yourself in your palm, stroking a few times before making contact with her. You ran your tip up and down her slit, collecting all the wetness that you could. You grabbed onto the flannel, pulling it back toward you a little bit, eliciting a tiny moan to fall from her lips.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” You spoke, leaning down toward her. You eased the very tip into her, not giving her too much too fast.

“I want you so bad, Jake. I want all of you, need all of you. Please.” She murmured.

You clicked your tongue. “Hm. I can’t really hear you, love. I said tell me how badly you want me...” you pulled back again on her wrists, still teasing at her entrance.

“Damn it, baby. I said I need you to fuck me, please! I want to feel all of you inside me, don’t hold anything back...” she raised her voice just slightly.

With that, you felt your cock twitch, and you released her wrists, and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it as you finally entered her, pushing all the way in until you couldn’t go any further.

Pure. Fucking. Bliss.

She cried out with pleasure as you began to pull back out, watching yourself leave her, practically dripping.

Expletives left both of your lips at the sensation, you felt like you completely forgot how to speak. Nothing in this world, not a single thing you love could ever compare to how you feel for her, how she feels around you.

You began to work at a steady pace, pulling in and out of her, basking in the feeling of finally having her again. And how amazing she felt like this. You grabbed her hips, and she stepped her knees apart a bit, allowing her back to arch more for you. Her torso was at an almost 90° angle; you wished you could see this from a side view.

“Did he fuck you like this? Huh? Tell me, did he fuck you this good?” You asked, wanting to ignite something in her that in all reality, you didn’t care about one way or the other.

“Mmmm sometimes… yeah he did...” she cooed.

“Hmmm, well. I’m going to fuck every single memory of his body off of you, whether you like it or not.”

“Let’s see it, Jake. Prove it. Prove to me you’re better...”

Her face was buried in the sheets, her expression fucked out and contorted as you pounded into her hard. You slowed your pace, making her cry out again. If you weren’t mistaken, you were sure she had tears in her eyes. The good kind.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Tell me you’re never gonna leave me. You’ll never go anywhere ever again…” you were panting, trying to keep up with yourself as your body wanted to fly harder and faster into her.

“I’ll never leave you, Jake. I promise. I love you so fuckin’ much…please don’t stop…” she whimpered.

You continued your assault on her, not letting up except to snake your hand around her front, finding her sweet spot again with your fingers. It made her cry out, you could tell she was getting close.

You grabbed the knot of the flannel, untying it quickly, letting her hands fall back to her sides. She lifted herself up and looked back at you as you pulled out, also dissatisfied with the loss of contact.

“What the fuckkkk Jake...” She half laughed.

“Go get in the shower. Make it hot.” You demanded, walking over to the mini fridge and pulling out a few little bottles of tequila. The feeling of being intoxicated while fucking her was a high you wanted to keep chasing...neither of you had any guard up, and no holds were being barred. Would it be a rare occasion? Maybe. But you were determined to finish it with a bang.

A wild smile came to her face, her hair was an absolute mess, her lips were swollen and her cheeks were pink. Beautiful, always so beautiful. And the way she looked at you? Made your stomach fall directly through the floor. Like you were the only human left on earth, and she wanted to own every single bit of you.

She scampered off to the bathroom, and you heard the water turn on full blast. You reached for the two plastic cups wrapped up in the ice bucket, pouring the tequila into them. You grabbed a tiny can of soda water, adding just enough to add bubbles to the shots. You stuck your pointer finger into them, giving them a tiny stir. You brought your finger inside your mouth and sucked away the excess, following her into the bathroom.

HER POV

The bathroom mirror and glass walls were already steaming up within the 30 or so seconds you’d been in the shower. You turned on just a bit of cold water to offset, and stepped under the water. You let it flow over you, closing your eyes as it cascaded down over your face and hair. You stood, waiting for what felt like ages, waiting to feel him again. Where the hell was he? You were still dripping with desire, and you didn’t want it to rinse off…

You heard the door open, and watched through the fogged glass as he entered the room carrying two cups. You opened the glass door for him, steam rolling out as you did so. He smiled, handing you the cup. “Didn’t want to go get ice. Didn’t think you’d care...” he spoke, his voice still sleepy and laced with his high.

“You know I don’t mind, baby. Thank you.” You smiled and took the cup. He held his cup up to yours, clinking them together, before you both shot back the liquid. “We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow…” you laughed.

He laughed in agreement, and walked over and stood under the oversized shower head, letting the hot beads soak his hair and body. Why was everything he did so fucking attractive?

Once he was sufficiently rinsed, he brought his hands back over to you, bringing your back to the wall. “Mmm, where were we?” His mouth found yours in an instant, picking up right where you’d left off. Except this time, your hands were free to touch him, grab him, squeeze him and stroke him, all the things that made him feel good. You wanted to make him feel good.

The hot shower poured over you, making each touch of his hands feel like electricity. His hand found itself between your legs again, his fingers knowing exactly where to go. Knowing your body so well…

“Ahhh, still wet for me, are you baby? You ready for me to fuck you again?” He growled into your neck. “It sure feels like it...��

You could do nothing but nod as he slipped two fingers into you, pumping them slowly.

“Ahhh, shit baby...” you breathed, biting into his shoulder. “I need you so bad...”

He hummed low, working his fingers in and out and shaking them lightly as he entered, giving you a whole new rush of pleasure.

You suddenly got an unwelcome flashback of just a few short weeks ago, you and Sam in another shower in another hotel, tangled up with your leg hitched over his hip and your tongue in his mouth.

You bent in half as he teased you with his dick…smacking you across the ass when you didn’t listen…

You shook the thought from your head, hoping that that wouldn’t become a normal occurrence. They did feel…very similar.

Thankfully Jake was able to pull you back to reality, his eyes looking deeply into yours, beckoning you back to him with his unwavering and unfaltering passion for you.

He sat down on the small bench in the shower, and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You waltzed over, wiping the water from your eyes, and placing your knees on either side of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and positioned yourself above him, sliding yourself down onto him.

The ride was hot, steamy, sweaty and cloudy. You were still incredibly stoned, your vision still blurry, your movements delayed. The tequila hit you both at the same time…your eyes struggled to stay open to even look at each other…you rode him slowly, feeling every single centimeter of him as you pulled yourself up and down, tightening your muscles as you went.

He massaged your ass, kissed your shoulders, held your hair as your hips bucked and rolled. You were certain you’d never ever felt this much ecstasy before in your life, whether it be from the smoke or the drink, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was mostly him…he was intoxicating all on his own…breathing your name over and over through the water dripping from his lips, his brow turning down into a frown as he looked down and watched himself enter and leave you...your tits bouncing as you fucked him slowly, intently, with as much love as you could muster…

…you felt it growing again, deep inside you, a blazing fire that you’d been chasing after all night. You began to whine a bit, rolling your head on your shoulders in circles as you concentrated on fulfilling your goal.

“Huh-uh baby, eyes on me, remember?” He said, the steam rolling in front of his face. You were sure you were going to combust at any moment, and the eye contact only made it worse.

“I’m right there too…just keep riding me...just like that baby…god, fuck you feel so amazing…”

His face contorted into the most beautiful look of pleasure as he lost eye contact, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cried out. His body convulsing, his arms shaking, his hands grasping and pulling your hair as he came into you, hot and slow, your name spilling from his lips until he had exhausted all the breath in his lungs…

…you weren’t far behind...your release came in the same way, a buildup of intensity, starting low and quiet and exploding into a million tiny white lights passing behind your eyes as your muscles contracted around him…you held on to him for dear life…gripping his shoulders and hair until you both found yourselves panting, coming down from the most tantric and beautiful scene your young bodies had yet to endure.

He was it. He was everything. Perfection in a person. Nothing else, no one else would ever compare. You knew in your heart that you’d fight for him for the rest of your life, no matter what the consequences might be.

SAM POV

Your eyes felt bone dry as you tried to pry them open, the cold air blowing from the air conditioner drying them out even further. You were warm under the sheets, not wanting to move just yet, as you noticed Elle sprawled across you. Her curls were splayed around her head in a perfect halo, and you couldn't help but stare.

Blinking a few times, the dryness started to fade away, giving way to the massive hangover you were sporting. You rolled to your side and grabbed your phone, flipping through your notifications and swiping them away. Your mouth was dry and all you could think about was how perfect a scalding hot coffee would feel slipping over your tongue.

Dragging yourself from the warmth of the sheets, you stood up, and pulled your messy hair into a bun at the back of your neck. You quietly walked over to your suitcase and pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt, pulling them on as you looked for your wallet.

Finding it in your pants from last night, you slid it into your fanny pack, and slipped on your birkenstocks. You set your phone to vibrate and dropped it into your pocket as you grabbed the room key and slipped out the door.

You took the elevator down a few floors to the lobby, milling around watching as festival goers checked out to return home. You made your way to the little cafe, and ordered two coffees, one black and one with room. You paid for the two cups and made your way over to the small table that held the cream and sugar, pouring in just the right amount of both, just how you knew she liked it. You smiled to yourself as you did it, thinking back on the days you spent wishing you could do just this.

As you stirred the coffee, it turned a caramel color and you knew you got it right. You placed lids on the two steaming cups and started back towards the elevators. Walking past the front desk you smiled and said hello to a few people who recognized you, none of them wanting to take up too much of your time. But as you stepped closer to the elevator, the doors opened, and people filed out.

Someone caught your eye, however, sporting the same red baseball hat as the day prior. You turned to look at him, to really make sure it was him, and as his eyes met yours you knew you had your confirmation. You would know that face anywhere.

Mother fucker.

He quickly walked away from you as you stepped into the elevator, watching as he made his way into the lobby and disappearing out of sight. Your heart was racing at his proximity to Y/N. Why was he here? Did he know she was here?

Your hands were shaking as you stepped out on your floor, feeling like you had to watch over your shoulder as you walked to your room. Stacking the coffees you tapped your key card to the door, and entered the room quietly. Elle was thankfully still sleeping, so you placed the coffees on the desk, and kicked your shoes to the side of the bed. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, trying to figure out what to do. With shaky hands you opened your texts, found the brothers group chat and began to type.

You

9:08am: 911

9:09am: He’s in the hotel.

Taglist:

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner @eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical @little-bit-of-monica@ageofbajabule @ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @profitofthedune @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler21 @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks

190 notes · View notes

zerobaselove · 1 year

Text

stuck with me | sung hanbin

pairing: barista!hanbin x reader (okay you barely see him as a barista tbh but its fine)

genre: fluff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: got a request for any zb1 member with this song, and honestly i heavily associate it with gunwook but i really really loved this for hanbin so, here it is.

your life was repetitive; there was no doubt about that. you had a routine, and you stuck to it. wake up, against your own will most mornings, unable to ignore the blaring alarm and feeling of responsibility in your gut. you couldn't be late. dragging yourself out of bed and throwing on whatever clean clothes you had, you'd quickly rush out the door, never able to make it out in a timely manner.

despite the rush you put yourself in every morning, you never failed to stop at the coffee shop on campus. it was surprisingly quiet at this time of day, just barely missing the early morning rush; and you were forever thankful, you weren't sure you could handle the busy mornings on such little sleep.

"the regular?" the boy behind the counter asks as you approach him; hanbin, at least that's what his name tag read. he worked every single morning that you were in, and you started wondering when he had days off. his warm smile had become a nice familiarity in the mornings.

"always," you smiled back, glancing around the coffee shop as he got to work making your drink, letting the comfortable silence and smell of coffee fill the air.

and that's how your mornings went, followed by your routine afternoons of coming home, making a snack, and settling down to watch your favorite show.

your friends had noticed how down you were lately, you didn't know how better to explain it other than the monotony of life had been getting to you, and you weren't sure how to fix it. it was hard to go out and meet people nowadays, seeing as everyone already had their fixed friend groups this late in the year and there wasn't much to do in your town. but you knew something had to give, you couldn't keep dragging through your days waiting for something you weren't even sure would come..

and that's how you found yourself standing at the front door to your dorm building, waiting for a mystery man to come pick you up. that sounded weirder than it was, you realize, but it was no big deal; your friend had set you up on some blind date with a boy from her class, and you really weren't in a position to say no.

you weren't waiting long, though this was a horrible time to realize you hadn't even gotten the boy's number, so you'd just have to hope he knew what you looked like.

"hi," a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking up only to see hanbin, the barista that you saw every morning.

"oh hi," you started, taking in his appearance now that he wasn't in his work uniform. you hated to admit it, but he was quite attractive. "i promise i'm not loitering," you let out an awkward laugh, "my friend set me up on some blind date so i'm waiting for the guy to come pick me up."

hanbin chuckled at your story, leaving you a little confused as you forced a small laugh, "nice to meet you, i'm the guy." he reached his hand out to shake yours. you couldn't help the way your face flushed at the embarrassing interaction you had just lived through.

"oh," you couldn't hide the shocked tone in your voice, "so that's why you look so nice." the compliment left your lips before you could consider how strange they would sound, but the boy seemed to have a good reaction to it.

"i could say the same to you, you look very pretty." now it was hanbin's turn to blush. despite his appearance, he wasn't the best at flirting himself; part of the reason he had agreed to this date, he knew he needed to get out there and bite the bullet. and also because it was with you, but you didn't need to know that just yet. "shall we head off?" he outstretched his hand to take yours, leading you to his car parked in the lot ahead.

you've been hiding in plain sight, then appeared, oh i know

the night had flown by, before you knew it you were sat back in the boy's car, faint music playing from the stereo as you laughed about the date that hadn't even ended yet.

"i've had a really good night hanbin," you smiled fondly at him, admiring the way his cheeks flushed, though barely visible to you now that the sun had gone down. "we should do this again."

his smile widened as he squeezed your hand, "it's not over yet," he turned the car on again, letting you get buckled in before driving out of the parking lot of the small arcade you had spent the night giggling in.

"are you kidnapping me hanbin?" you giggled, unable to stop smiling around the boy. you weren't sure why he had such an effect on you, considering this was the first time you had ever really hung out, but you can't help but feel like you were meant to know him; a soulmate of sorts.

he shook his head briefly, "c'mon y/n, i would never," he paused briefly, "probably." he stifled a laugh for a moment before you let a laugh escape your own lips, him following suit.

you weren't really sure how much time had passed; it was a little too easy getting lost in conversation with the boy, and you weren't sure what to do with that. but soon enough the car was in park again and hanbin, being the gentleman he was, was opening your door for you before you even had the chance to protest.

you had been so absorbed in conversation that you didn't notice where you had arrived at; the beach. the almost full moon was bright in the sky, casting a glow on the sand and reflecting off the water as if they were right next to each other, as if there was no distance to be had.

as you were admiring the view in front of you, hanbin had grabbed something out of the trunk, "what's that?"

"you really think i'd make someone as pretty as you sit in the sand? it's a blanket." his smile felt brighter than the moon in that moment, and more contagious than ever as you mirrored his actions.

you two set up on the beach, using some of your belongings to keep the corners of the blanket pinned to the sand, even your shoes. it wasn't long before you were both rolling your pant legs up and walking along the water's edge. the cool water hitting your feet was a nice sensation, keeping you awake as the night deepened.

loving you once only feels wrong, i need years.

soon enough the two of you had found yourselves back at the blanket you had set up, the active conversation being replaced with a comfortable silence that accompanied the calm water beautifully. hanbin had laid down along the blanket, admiring the stars; what better opportunity to join him, you thought. you rested your head on his stomach, laying perpendicular to the boy. you tried to judge his reaction to the skinship, but he only seemed to relax at the feeling of the slight weight on his body.

"do you believe in soulmates?" his voice pierced through the air, so much so you almost didn't catch the question, almost.

you hummed for a moment as you pondered the question, "i didn't before," you paused, reminiscing the night you had just experienced.

"before?" he looked to you, unbeknownst to you, "what changed?"

"well," you took a deep breath, "i always thought it was silly; the idea of soulmates. i mean how could we just be made for someone." your eyes traced shapes in the stars, trying to distract yourself from the comfort the boy was bringing you, "but maybe i just hadn't met the right person." at this point you weren't even sure what you were saying, but the words were spilling out faster than you could control them, and hanbin was about to be in a similar position.

"i think i know exactly what you mean," he grabbed your hand, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. "from the first day you came in for coffee, it just," he paused briefly, his eyes focusing on the way the rings decorated your fingers, "it felt different, like i was meant to be there at the same time as you."

you hoped that it was just dark enough to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks, but you knew deep down that wasn't the case.

i always knew i'd find you, to be here is worth the wait too

"do you ever think about that?" you inquired, before realizing how vague your question was, "i mean, how we've been in each other's lives for so long and it took till now." you finally turned to look at the boy, noticing that his cheeks were mirroring your own. you could almost feel the heat radiating off of them.

"i know," he looked back to you, gesturing to himself, "you've really been missing out." the two of you let out a laugh as you playfully smacked his arm. "okay okay, i've been the one missing out."

you simply shook your head at the boy, "you know, seeing you every morning was kind of my motivation to get out the door." you weren't really sure why you were admitting the embarrassing detail, but something about hanbin's presence really opened the floodgates of your mind.

"really?" he tilted his head, looking a bit like a lost puppy.

you hummed in response, "that one day you didn't show up i was actually quite worried, i thought maybe you got sick. but it's not like i could ask, we weren't close yet," you tried to stop a pout from forming on your lips, but it was no use. and hanbin thought it was adorable as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

"oh c'mon, there's no need to flatter me."

"i'm serious," you whined playfully, "seeing you every morning was the one consistent thing i had going. i got used to you being there, i liked it."

i'm not lying when i say i've been stuck by the glue onto you

hanbin sat up, causing you to sit up as well before his arm had snaked around your waist, pulling you closer into his side. "i like you," he breathed out, taking a moment to process his own words.

"god sorry, that might be a little soon, but i've been thinking about it for a while."

you were still trying to process his first words. your brain had effectively short circuited at the confession, but his last words piqued your interest, "a while?"

it seems that triggered the boy to realize his words, making more of a confession than he meant to. his ears had begun to match the shade of crimson on his cheeks, "pretend you didn't hear that."

"i like you too hanbin."

now you both had lost your filter, along with your mind. the confession slipped past your pressed lips before you even had the chance to think, but hanbin was overjoyed.

he quickly stood up, pulling you to your feet as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, engulfing you in a secure hug. he had mumbled something incoherent into your hair, but before you could decipher his words you were interrupted by an unfamiliar ringtone. hanbin quickly fished into his pocket to retrieve his phone, not even checking the caller id before accepting the call.

you tried not to eavesdrop, training your ears onto the crashing waves instead before hanbin grabbed your hand. "just my roommate wondering when i was getting back."

"is it really that late?" you questioned. you hadn't checked your phone all night if you were honest, so when you saw the time light up on hanbin's phone flashing a bright 1:28 am, your jaw dropped a little.

hanbin quickly gathered your belongings as you put your shoes back on, "i guess i should be taking you back now huh?" he chuckled, blanket in one hand, grabbing yours with his free hand.

"only on one condition," you stopped walking, hanbin quickly stopping as well, urging you to continue, "only if you promise this won't be the last time."

he only lightly tugged your hand to keep walking, letting the silence rest for a few moments as you approached the car.

"don't worry your pretty little head about that," he started, opening your door for you, "you're stuck with me now."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #sung hanbin imagines

287 notes · View notes

igglemouse · 2 months

Text

A scattering of seeds, a sprinkle of water, and one passing night brings forth new life. Little green bushes sprout from the dirt, promising a revolution and proving the Flower Bunny correct. Spring is in full bloom and flowers aren’t the only thing promising to blossom.

How could I not speak of the kiss between Pascal and I, after all? A tender moment between us yesterday that had my mind lingering with thoughts of him. Was that single moment under a warm spring day the sign of something more enduring?

Or could it be that my relationship with him will wither under the hot summer sun when it comes?

But today is a new day and with it comes new possibilities. With it being Friday I figured I would open the stand a little later, catch people coming home from work and ready to wind down after a busy work week. People that might not be up for cooking themselves who would be willing to part with a few simoleons to have a meal from someone else.

This decision gives me a gift of time for the morning, time well spent with laundry so that I too could prepare for what I hope is a busy and fulfilling weekend.

The weekend starts with a workout!

Pascal’s introduced me to this gym and I mean to become a regular here if for no other reason than he endorses it. He’s a professional athlete after all so if this place is good enough for him then it must be good enough for me.

It does not take long to find the appeal. There’s a calm vibe to the gym, a quiet that is only filled with the clanking of weights, machines, and sharp exhales of effort.

The treadmill’s themselves are meditative, the belt thrumming smoothly under each step I take on my journey to nowhere and everywhere all at once. Before long I begin to lose myself to the session, each step a building block towards someone better, each minute proof of my will.

Yeah. I could definitely get into this.

I wipe the back of my hand against my forehead, moistening it with my sweat, satisfied but not yet content. What’s that old phrase? No pain, no gain! I’m sweating but my legs still feel fresh and tell me that there’s still more to go. I reach down on the treadmill to increase the pace-

“You new here?” a woman asks, her voice smacking aside my focus like a clank of weights. “Just wanted to let you know that this one,” she looks down to the treadmill. “Can be a little quirky.”

“Ummm-”

“Yeeep. It likes to challenge people randomly every now and then or maybe it likes the taste of face,” I look at her confused. Perhaps something was lost in translation here because I have no idea what she means. “It’s broken,” she clarifies. “Just a warning!”

“O-oh! Gracias!”

Since I could not afford an injury at this time I stopped off the treadmill right away and followed her outside. Not the wisest of ideas. The sun seemingly mocked the idea that it was spring at all and instead hinted at what a summer day would feel like here in Oasis.

We stopped on a rightfully empty basketball court because who would want to play anything outside in his heat?

“Sorry, Simlish es no my first language,” I tell her as a precaution because I have a feeling she’s wanting a conversation. “I’m Frida.”

“Frida…cute accent! Marjorie but you can call me Marge,” she says with a welcoming smile. “How long have you been here?”

“Not a week,” I reply with a breathy chuckle.

“And already here at the gym? I like your style,” she says with a nod of her head and a wipe of her brow as well. The heat was definitely going to have us seeking shelter.

“You’ll find me here most days,” she continues, tossing her head back towards the gym. “Don’t forget about that treadmill either, better safe than sorry, right? See you later Frida.”

Perhaps I’ve met a new friend.

I get home and sink into a tub of water that has been bombed with a freshly sweet lavender scent. I think I’ve used too much because there are so many bubbles that they foam over the edge of the tub but what does that matter? It’s Friday and I plan on squeezing as much enjoyment from it as possible.

It’s not like I even get weekends off. I run a business by myself. Sola. That means my schedule is filled with work which also means I need to savor every moment of peace I can find.

But just because my schedule is filled with work doesn’t mean it’s actual ‘work’ if you catch my meaning. Cooking, as I’ve said before, brings me joy. Maybe I am easily pleased but buying a new pizza oven and making my own pizza, standard cheese pizza, the classic, completely makes my day!

I think pizza will be a very important part of my stand, it’s affordable and munchable and I can charge per slice! Perfect! Let’s just hope it’s actually good!

I step outside ready to begin my daily sale but am met immediately by a stranger. My neighbor, he claims tobe at least. “Just wanted to say hello and officially welcome you!” His voice is filled with the zeal of an overly enthusiastic neighbor. “I’ve been keeping my eye on you-”

“Oh?” caution leaks from my one word reply. The last thing I want is some neighbor keeping watch over me after all.

“O-oh! No, not like that!” he catches my caution and realizes how his introduction must seem to me. “I’m just down the road and across the street. It’s just a phrase I guess.” He then introduces himself as Oscar Fuentes.

“Hola Oscar! Cómo es-”

“No no no no, sorry, I don’t speak Selvadoradian,” he cuts me off quickly bringing a smirk to my lips. I kind of guessed he might because of his name but it’s actually better that he doesn’t because…

“Sorry, no speak Simlish!” I tell him and basically shoo him along. I have a feeling this is the nosy neighbor type and if that is true then the less interaction with him the better.

“Oh! No, it is I that is sorry! I just wanted to say your food stand adds a real punch to the neighborhood! I wanted to thank you personally and…” his words drift as I give him my best confused look to really drive the point home. “Ah, I see, well, hopefully another time. See you around?”

“Yes, yes, bye.”

Oscar takes the hint and leaves me to setting up my stand. I must admit that doing it much later in the afternoon just initially has a better feel to it and that is because of the weather.

One thing about hot climates is that there is always a perfect time of day, the sweet spot, and right now I was settled in the middle of it. Maybe that’s why my voice had a bit more pop and energy to it and maybe that’s why I pull in 166 simoleons.

It’s not a huge sum to be sure but it is a pattern, a hint of some consistency, proof that maybe I am catching on and maybe there is a future here for me after all…

A guard blocks the exit to the room with a posture that said he would be ready to defend order with all that he had. Which, in this case, was a simple can of pepper spray. Here at ADX Desierto it was all a guard could have because the risk of a prisoner wrestling away a baton, knife, or gun, was far too much. While a prisoner couldn’t plot an escape with either he could send a man just doing his job to an early grave and anyone who called his place home had little to lose. Some even welcomed the execution that might come from such an option.

Thankfully, this particular guard was here more as a formality. The prisoner who shared the room with him had been one of those tamed with time and religion, a man who only wanted to find redemption through the watcher and through his daughter.

A daughter he called once a week to absolutely no reply. The guard had hoped this week would be different, that she would pick up her phone and offer the man a pinch of hope, but as Anthony slammed the phone down against the receiver he knew that she was still avoiding him. Perhaps even had him blocked…

The guard was ready to escort Anthony back to his cell because usually the man, the killer, he reminded himself, would only try to call his daughter and that was it but today he held up his hand for a moment and started to dial another number.

For a moment the guard thought to warn him that all calls were recorded. Some prisoners, men whose ego were larger than the desert they were housed in, would try to conduct business behind bars and that would only add to their punishment or their time (as if a man with over 100 years left on his sentence cared much about added time). The guard thought to warn Anthony but then reminded himself again that this was a killer. Despite the calm and now tame demeanor all it took was one look into his eyes to know that this was a man who could shoot him dead in the head and think nothing of it.

So he remained in his spot, guarding the door, and instead eaves dropped on his conversation which was mostly pushed through quick and hushed phrases…

“Just make sure she’s okay….she never picks up…just check on her….got it?”

Was all he could make out. Eventually, his 15 minutes were up.

And eventually the guard is back into the heart of the facility, the corridor with steel bars on either side of him, so full and packed that a prisoners can talk to each other (and often do) and even reach across the hall to pass things around.

The guard’s steps are silent, the quiet approach taken more for necessity than fear as this time of night had given way to rest which meant even the more unpredictable prisoners had opted for sleep. Even still, just walking these halls had made him nervous. Sometimes, the best that can happen is prisoners throwing things at you, sometimes even feces, and even still that is better than the story of an officer being pulled to the cage and getting choked out and nearly dying.

Thankfully for him Anthony’s cell was not far and even better, no one messed with Anthony and so it felt more like Anthony was escorting himself to his cell and not the other way around.

The guard’s farewell is soft and filled with a hint of sympathy that would flee with the click and lock of his cell. Leaving Anthony alone in a place he had learned to call home and even appreciate.

He was told when he made his pledge to the cartel that there were only two ways out, in a casket or behind bars, he thought the former was always the only real option. He’d go out in a blaze of glory before submitting to order and begging mercy from the law…and yet, he’s glad to still be alive.

His past is one of death, a thread of lives all worthy of being ended and yet lives all the same. The faces of his victims blurs at best, the names never placed into his memory and the emotions attached to them completely non-existent. He was given a target and a bag of simoleons when the job was done. No questions asked.

It brought him simoleons, that’s all that mattered then, and it allowed him to live a life he could have only dreamed of. A life he would have happily snuffed out himself if it meant being here locked in a maximum security prison for the rest of his life with no chance of escape.

But this was a debt he learned he had to pay and his confinement had left him with his thoughts, his own thoughts, not those tainted by powder or drugs, but thoughts of a father who had once seen the promise of a life he had turned down.

He would survive, he would serve the rest of his hundred year sentence because it is what she asked of him. It is what he owed her. He never planned to father her, he barely knew her mother after all. His concept of family were the men who paid him and never anything more than that. He fought for them, he killed for them, but the cold concrete and steel of this building had taught him that family isn’t who you fight for, its who you live for.

He knew there was no redemption here, that the Watcher would be insane to ever forgive the list of sins he’s committed, his soul had been judged and condemned.

But there was still time for Frida…

Episode List - Next

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #frida varela #marjorie whipple #oscar fuentes #pascal alcocer #anthony varela

46 notes · View notes

hyperfixations-and-hecticness · 2 years

Text

I hate when they change like vital plot points of a book to fit in a movie. I mean, first of all the iconic F outfits. The Circus of Talents. We lost Princess Uma, a bad bitch if there ever was one. Anyway thoughts below but I can’t add a read more on mobile so sorry. Spoilers obviously.

Thoughts on the School for Good and Evil movie

Good

- The design and aesthetic of all of it was beautiful. I mean like everything was elegant and stunning and just visually incredibly pleasing.

- Sofia Ann Caruso is a great Sophie, she’s cringey and mean and overdramatic. She is the love child of Megamind and Regina George.

- Also Theron and Washington made great professors.

- The Tedros had a cool sword, iconic dumbassery, was pretty and also had cool fits which is how I like my men personally.

- Sophie and Agatha’s friendship at the start was super natural and well written.

- Soman cameo.

- I loved the little addition of Professor Anemone previously being a history teacher. It was just such a nice little touch to the world building and her character.

- The inherent creepiness of the casting for Rafal. I mean I always imagined him looking like a teenager but him looking like he’s in his twenties and trying to claim Sophie as his child bride really adds that extra layer of ickiness.

- Literally everything with Gregor Charming. An icon, a legend, he is the moment.

Bad

- Sofie Wylie is a good Agatha but they wrote her so blandly. Also like where was the initial awkwardness? We deserved bitchy goth loner Agatha. And like it would’ve been cool if Agatha was more conventionally unattractive. Like no hate to Sofie Wylie she’s absolutely gorgeous but it would’ve been nice if she did have that whole thing of yeah people don’t think she’s pretty but then her personality begins to outweigh that.

- Where the actual everloving fuck where Anadil’s rats? I was promised little rats. I was robbed.

- Why were all the Ever girls such bitches? I mean like passive aggressive? Yeah sure. But they were outright bullies.

- The plot change of Rafal purposefully letting Good grow complacent and vain. I think it’s more interesting when you have Good who genuinely have grown complacent without the manipulation of true evil or whatever. It adds more weight to it.

- The Circus of Talents was iconic and we deserved to have the wolves and fairies reveal.

- The blood magic? I mean like what? You have regular magic, no deus ex machina necessary.

- More development between our girls and Teddy. Like I love him being a pathetic little scrunkly but it felt like everything happened in two days. This may have been better adapted as a show considering it’s meant to be covering a whole year of school.

- We deserved hot pink finger glows.

- Lack of iconic book characters: Princess Uma, Castor and Pollux, the Golden Goose, the little pets they had, Anadil’s rats (yes I’m bitter), the librarian dude whose name I’m forgetting, he has Giles vibes, the seer, you know the dude.

- I wanted to see Hort’s frog pajamas.

- The actual explanation for the nemesis stuff like in the books.

- Where was the witches/Agatha friendship? Sophie betraying Aggie to avoid going home? Dovey caring about Good?

- More mean Sophie. Give the people what they want

- It felt so queer-baity. I know the book three twist but like it was just annoying.

Edit - Also the iconic line ‘I’m worse than my father. Because I still love you.’

All in all it was a fun movie but having loved the books as a kid I felt like they didn’t really get done justice. Two and a half hours wasn’t enough to cover the whole story adequately in my opinion.

#school for good and evil #sge sophie #sge movie #soman chainani #agatha of woods beyond #charlize theron #kerry washington #lady lesso #kit young #sofia wylie

1K notes · View notes

melis-writes · 6 months

Text

Eyes like Stars [Bobby Axel x Reader Multi-chapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 19 - The Secrets We Keep.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 18 [AO3] / [Tumblr] / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+ explicit smut, multi-chapter read.

"What did he want?! Did you fuck him? Did you?!” / “I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU! I WAS GONNA MARRY A WHORE! A whore!”

Everything you've done up to this point was for Bobby and Bobby alone. What else would your intentions be for if it wasn't to hold onto and save everything the two of you have for one another? Bobby's set in his ways but the idea of losing you to the same fate Helen chose for herself is too much to bear. To see it is one thing, experience it--another, but just how much love can you claim if the one you adore is now the one hurting you?

[WARNINGS]: Mentions & themes of drug addiction and selling / Domestic abuse / Physical abuse / Verbal abuse / Depictions & themes of injury and blood.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The Eyes Like Stars girlies can EAT!! 🥺🙏🏻 And especially so since I will be putting this fic on a temporary hiatus as I focus more on finishing up/writing my Godfather fics first. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea that I am! With so my fics in my rotation and life changes, I'm struggling between balancing all of them and burning out/hitting writer's block. I will definitely return to this fic once I've completed my others and then we will go on with Emily and Bobby's story! For now, enjoy this (temporary) last chapter before the hiatus kicks in. I would also like to clarify for the sensitive nature of this chapter that I do not condone or romanticize abuse in any sort of way. This chapter also doesn't glorify it or anything like that.

Bobby’s release from prison marks the end of his and Helen’s relationship and you find yourself spending more time with Bobby and taking care of him after everything he’s been through. Working and living in Manhattan as a college drop-out, you distance yourself from Helen who Bobby and you take solace with one another in hopes to get out of the toxic lifestyle of drug use—promising each other to start a new life with one another and get clean. Falling in love with Bobby, you experience a mutual, passionate and loving relationship with its own highs and lows that promises to bloom into something more serious but also can threaten to collapse. As Bobby’s new girlfriend, your relationship hangs on a thread with old skeletons coming back into Bobby’s life, relapses, and a new panic on the horizon that threatens to undo it all.

Bobby knows Upper West Side Manhattan like the back of his hand; better than the majority of Manhattan-born residents through every street, turn, and block.

Give him a street and Bobby could tell you every corner store, the names of apartment buildings, if he knows anyone who lives there, who is shooting up, who is selling, and where the narcs are like it’s common sense.

“Bobby Axel” is a name every dealer, junkie, and narco alike knows on the street; word going around and connections made just like everybody else.

Bobby knows every detail of his home like it’s his duty, and it’s given him the advantage of sneaking away from the unwary or police at the perfect time with the layout of the city engrained in the back of his mind.

Bobby can never see himself doing anything else, anywhere else. Upper West Side Manhattan is his home. Needle Park is his home; it always has been, it always will be.

Being from New York City yourself but having memorized the same streets you, Bobby, and your friends are in day after day, everything you know and think you know of Upper West Side Manhattan pales in comparison to what Bobby knows.

Just as you think you’re taking the regular route back home from work, Bobby keeps his distance far behind you—blending into the crowd and particularly remaining next to the other outcasts and junkies dressed in navy jeans and a baggy hoodie like him.

You walk straight towards your apartment as you always have; not a single convenience store or grocery surrounds you upon the path you’re taking and Bobby can’t help but analyze your environment carefully; thinking if you took a different turn, you may bump into him in the next few minutes.

You don’t, and on purpose, Bobby lets you get home far before he does. So as long as you don’t know he’s coming and that Bobby wants to talk to you, he can approach you with time and circumstance on Bobby’s side.

Bobby takes the “scenic” route home, letting himself linger around the streets with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and the hood up, covering his head.

Trash litters the sidewalks with torn newspaper pages flying about, wrapping over flickering lampposts; the scents of cigarettes, garbage, and body odor lingering around the corners of each street Bobby passes by accompany him with the cool fall air and dimly lit, grimy blocks twisting and leading to your apartment.

It’s been years since Bobby’s memorized the crumbling streets before him, every old building and every hot spot that normally distracts and cools Bobby down when he’s pissed or stressed to shit but nothing gets through to him now.

Bobby can’t walk off his anger this time and he knows it. Bobby’s only able to remind himself why he’s going home—with the belief you’ve been lying to him this entire time.

Lying to him about the true nature of your work relationship with Sykes; every complaint you made, every time you called in sick just to avoid seeing him, and all that you explained to Bobby—what else would it all be for?

‘It makes sense.’ Bobby grits his teeth, keeping his eyes on the street as he continues briskly walking down the block.

Bobby’s judgment is immediately clouded with his irritation and anger; the idea of your encounter that he saw firsthand can’t be thought of as anything else but some sort of affair.

Why else would that smug son of a bitch have that look on his face watching you leave, let alone stand there adjusting his jeans after another secret get-together the two of you had?

Unbeknownst of Bobby’s eyes on both you and Sykes, you know the truth of what happened and how you still feel against your supervisor; bitter, mostly indifferent, and annoyed, but when it comes to shooting and selling, everyone’s needs are all the same. Everyone’s the same.

Thinking nothing of it and unsurprised by Bobby’s absence back at your apartment, you step in and set your purse and keys down before locking the front door.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you rub your temple gingerly before slipping off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket.

The only thing on your mind at the moment is relaxation—time to yourself and nothing more; that is all shared with Bobby once he gets back home from what you subconsciously assume is selling or out with Chico, Irene, and the others.

You open your purse and carefully take out the wad of cash from Sykes you quickly stuffed inside before setting it on the coffee table in the living room.

Pulling your hair up into a loose ponytail, you head towards your bedroom and undress; opting for a comfy pair of sweatpants and a black spaghetti-strap tank top.

Feeling at ease in the comfort of your own home with no need to pretend to be inconspicuous or watch for a narco on the side of the street, you step into the bathroom momentarily to freshen up.

Glancing up in the mirror, you blink at your reflection and realize how you’ve been wearing nothing but exhaustion over your expression—and all too well at that.

Sighing softly, you turn on the tap to lukewarm water before adjusting it to get hotter—grabbing a bar of soap and beginning to scrub at your hands to wash them off and give them a good rinse.

You pause for a moment, staring at the running water as you swallow hard. You can’t help but feel you’re expecting something—anticipating something you’ve forgotten.

Attempting to shake off the queasy feeling brewing in your stomach, you purposefully avoid looking towards your arms and adjust the water to an almost ice-cold temperature.

Splashing your face off to awaken yourself a bit, you then close the tap and dry off your hands and face with a towel before walking back into the living room.

Your eyes land on the wad of cash placed upon the center of the coffee table once more as you begin to approach it; plopping down on the couch and reaching over for the money.

‘Eighty dollars.’ You can still practically hear Sykes’ voice in your head; seeping with the same desperation as someone whose used it more than once, but hasn’t fallen into an addiction just yet.

Your fingers flip through the twenty dollar bills in your hands again and again as you find yourself zoning in and out, barely focused on what you’re doing, to begin with.

You frown, staring at the fading number twenty imprinted on one of the dollar bills before you graze your thumb over it.

You know more than anything you don’t need this money, but Bobby does.

‘All of this is for Bobby,’ you think to yourself, sitting up to set down the cash neatly on the coffee table. ‘It’s not for me. I don’t need this… I don’t need any of this. This is all for him.’

Just as you set down the neatly stacked wad of cash down upon the coffee table in front of you again, you almost knock it over and send it flying from the impact of how hard you flinch at the sound of the front door abruptly unlocking and flying open.

Blinking in surprise, you look up to see Bobby entering your apartment and letting the door slam behind him.

Without so much as a smile, a “hello” or even that soft look in Bobby’s eyes you’ve gotten used to seeing when he comes home to you, all you can pick up is the anger, irritation, and bitterness scowling over Bobby’s expression.

‘Bobby?’ The unforgiving look in Bobby’s eyes replaces any look of love he once ever gave you; his body language demanding and expectant as if you demanded Bobby to approach you as such.

In a split second, Bobby’s eyes dart down to the money in front of you before cruelty mixes with the anger in his eyes and he sends his apartment keys flying onto the dining table across the room.

“Bobby—” You flinch again pressing your back against the couch.

“Yeah,” Bobby raises his voice over you sharply, cutting you off. “Counting that good money Sykes gave you? Made sure every dollar was accounted for?”

Stunned and at a loss for words, your reaction merely gives Bobby a green light to continue as he grits his teeth, approaching you in the living room.

“Did that son of a bitch pay you before or after you sucked his cock?”

“What?!” You flinch again as Bobby kicks the stack of money off of the coffee table, sending it flying to various spots in the living room.

“Answer my fucking questions!” Bobby shouts at you, facing you directly. “What did you do to him, huh? What did he want?! Did you fuck him? Did you?!”

“Bobby, I—”

“You stupid fucking whore!” Bobby seethes, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tilting your head back instantaneously to slap you across the face.

“Ah!” Yelping out loudly in pain, the force of Bobby’s slap with him letting go of your hair was harsh enough to cause you to flail off the couch face down—hitting the side of your body against the armrest.

“Bobby! What are you—" You hiccup, bursting out sobbing from fear, pain, and confusion hitting you all at once.

Without even realizing it, you’re holding up your arms—still quivering—up to your face to shield you from impact, shakily looking up at your boyfriend.

Bobby breathes heavily, taking a step back from you; his eyes bloodshot and glistening with tears of frustration and anger as both of you take in what just occurred.

‘Bobby…’ Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach as shock and guilt rack over you in a wave of nausea and numbness throughout your body.

‘Baby…’ Bobby hit you.

Your boyfriend—the one who cried in your arms night after night, the one you couldn’t bear to see in pain, suffering from his withdrawals or illness from being unable to feed and take care of himself properly; Bobby who you washed away all the pain and sadness off of his body, kissed the scratches over his stomach and would do anything for, hit you over something that never even happened.

Bobby doesn’t wait for another response from you nor is his intention to give you an explanation for his sudden outburst; he’s hellbent on releasing his anger first.

“Don’t act surprised with me,” Bobby hisses, beginning to raise his tone. “You whore! You—”

Seeing as you flinch again by being called a “whore”, Bobby lunges towards you again in response and grabs both of your arms as you scream out and attempt to thrash away.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Bobby hauls you up by your arms and throws you back down on the couch. “WHORE! You were heading straight back home my ass!”

“Bobby—” You cry out in pain, “BOBBY!’

Blow after blow only worsens and grows harsher with each hit over your arms and wrists before Bobby begins to aim his fists toward your head; grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Screeching out, you struggle against Bobby’s overpowering grip but manage to clutch his wrists—digging your nails into Bobby’s wrists and prying them off of you with every ounce of strength you have left in you.

“BOBBY, STOP!” You hiccup again throughout your sobs, pushing him away from you. “Stop it, STOP! Please, stop!”

“Stop what?!” Bobby scowls, “you didn’t stop fucking lying to me so tell me why I should stop now!”

“Bobby—” Your lip trembles as you notice his gaze fall to the dollar bills scattered over the living room floor.

Bobby nods to himself slowly, eyeing every dollar bill he can see before staring back up at you; ready to lunge at you once more. “He paid you eighty dollars?”

“Bobby—” You sniffle, your bottom lip trembling as you grip the fabric of the couch tightly.

“My girlfriend’s pussy is only worth eighty dollars?” Bobby narrows his eyes, “you cheap, used fucking whore!”

“STOP IT! STOP!” Screaming out at him, you scramble up and off the couch to rush towards the bathroom. “I didn’t! I didn’t do anything, I—”

“Come here, you fucking slut!” Bobby immediately begins to follow after you, reaching out to grab you again.

“I didn’t—no! NO! STOP IT, BOBBY!” Wailing, you barely make it to the bathroom before Bobby sends you flying to the floor with a rough shove like a ragdoll.

“I SAID COME HERE!” His sudden amount of strength against you who can barely breathe through your tears would take you by surprise if you weren’t the one Bobby was releasing his frustrations out on.

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” You shriek, landing on your side with a thud—almost knocking over the coffee table. “Stop it!” You shakily brace yourself for impact, holding your arms up to your face, pleading, “Please stop! PLEASE! L-let me talk to you—”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Bobby screams back down at you, pointing, “I saw you walking out of the fucking side exit of your corporate shit hole, used and bought like the fucking whore you are! Can’t even face the front street so other people don’t pick up on it, huh?!”

“Bobby—” You flinch, wounded by his words.

“And for what?!” Bobby throws his hands up in the air, “for eighty dollars? You and that fucking asshole you kept telling me about? You think I’m fucking stupid, Emily? Huh—” Bobby hovers over top of you, leaning down to squeeze your face harshly as you continue crying out. “Huh? HUH!? You think I’m fucking stupid?!”

“B-Bobby!” You sputter, hiccupping. “How—”

“How do I know?!” Bobby scoffs, abruptly letting go of your face. “I followed you, you stupid bitch! I followed you because I knew you were fucking lying!”

“NO! I wasn’t—”

“You had someplace to be and I knew it from how you were checking that stupid fucking watch constantly—“ Bobby points to the shattered watch barely holding together over your wrist from the impact of his blows. “You fucking lied to me! You said you were gonna grab some shit from the store before coming back home, huh?! YOU WERE WITH ANOTHER MAN!”

“NO, I WASN’T! I wasn’t, Bobby! I wasn’t!” Your throat burns from screaming back at him in desperation. “I sold him shit, that’s all he wanted! I sold him what he fucking needed so he would get off my ass about it! I didn’t touch him and he didn’t touch me, I swear to you! I swear!”

Bobby ignores you, rolling his eyes; only a clear indication of the lack of a foundation of trust between the two of you.

“Listen to me,” Bobby hisses, pointing at his eyes with his hands trembling from mounting anger. “I would rather gouge my own eyes out than ever see you with someone else. Is that what I have to do? Hmm?” His eyes sting with tears. “Is that what you want me to do? Scratch my own fucking eyes out? I’ll do—”

“NO, STOP IT!” You let out a shriek at the top of your lungs before immediately trying to scramble up to your feet.

“Then my girlfriend’s a fucking whore!” Bobby lunges back at you but trips over the lamp cord, causing it to fall over and shatter to pieces on the floor—buying you a few seconds of precious time to race to the bedroom.

“And I was gonna marry you!” Bobby gives up the chase as you slam the door behind you, pressing your back against it with all of your might to keep it shut.

“YOU KNOW THAT?!” Bobby follows to the bedroom, screaming at the closed door in front of him. “I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU! I WAS GONNA MARRY A WHORE! A whore!”

Barely able to stand on your own feet and shivering out of control, you sob loudly as you rest your head against the door.

Sneering, Bobby turns back and grabs your keys off the counter before taking off from the suite entirely—purposefully letting the door slam behind him.

‘Oh my God…’ You crumble to your knees; your eyes tender and aching from sobbing but unable to stop yourself from letting your emotions consume you entirely.

With too much to process and take in, all you can do is helplessly look at the scratches and light gashes over your body from everything Bobby’s done to you.

Promised bruises and fresh blood dripping from your nose; everything stings yet feels hazy and warm to the touch.

Tilting your head back slowly, you attempt to take in a deep breath but every sense of calmness has departed you upon the first blow Bobby delivered.

All you can do is cry in pain that both your heart and mind feel. All you can do is let it eat you alive now. All you do is lay on the floor by the door and drown in your own tears.

Bobby walked out on you after all and as he did, he thought about nothing but what his relationship with you has come to now.

Bobby’s true possessive nature got the better of him, and he knows he can’t handle it at its fullest either—not after everything he went through with Helen prostituting herself.

If anything, Bobby’s made it clear to you that he desires and craves you and only you to the extent that just the thought of having to share you or seeing you with someone else makes him want to kill himself.

Still, even though he’s out on the streets with nothing but a bruised ego, his hatred, his anger, and his broken pride, the only thing he can think of is that you may just have been telling nothing but the truth.

#al pacino #al pacino x reader #melis-writes #bobby axel x reader #bobby axel x oc #bobby axel fanfic #the panic in needle park #the panic in needle park fanfic #the panic in needle park smut #bobby axel x reader smut #bobby axel #eyes like stars fanfic #the panic in needle park x reader

59 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

How's about follower kallamar with a squid reader that is the head doctor and a former follower of his

On the day of your indoctrination...an ugly plague was currently infesting he entire cult. It definitely wasn't the best first impression.

You saw so many sick followers shuffling around, trying not to throw up (although some failed miserably) as they went about their daily tasks.

Lamb excuses themselves to go yell at the healthy followers who didn't bother cleaning all the puke lying around, before sending the sick to their beds and shoving thermometers in their mouths.

And of course, an elder decides to die right next to the goddamn shrine...resulting in those still hanging around to vomit at the sight.

Once everything's slightly under control, Lamb rushes back to officially welcome you into the cult, but you're not impressed at all.

"You promised me sanctuary, Lamb. But all I see is illness and death here...was I right to trust you?"

"....you can blame your "bishop" for all of this......I promise this is a safe haven."

You give them the benefit of the doubt, considering they did save you from being sacrificed to Kallamar.

But when asked why his followers chose you, you explained that you're actually a doctor who treated a lot of sicknesses back in Anchordeep. Sore throats, stomach bugs, flu, pox, etc. You were seen as sort of a miracle worker.

Unfortunately Kallamar saw your skills as a threat to his power, insisting only he can perform "miracles" and decide who's worthy of healing...and his fanatics were inclined to agree.

Luckily, your new leader allowed you to take on that role once again without fear of persecution, and you got the plague under control practically overnight.

You've implemented a system where every follower got a regular checkup. Even if they looked or felt fine, it's better to be safe than sorry.

When Lamb started bartering with ???, they gifted you a gold immortality necklace to ensure you didn't die of old age (seriously, they needed your medical expertise).

You already had a skull necklace, but were grateful nevertheless.

Ironically, Kallamar became the most troubling patient when he arrived into the cult, getting sick right off the bat just from his spiraling anxiety.

He hid behind a tree upon seeing you.....and Lamb found him, literally having to drag him over to your medbay (now a small building instead of a single shrub hut) and order you to treat him.

Great Ones forbid he caused a plague as both bishop and follower. They weren't going to tolerate that.

Ofc, he was hesitant to say anything to you, but after quietly treating his stomach ache and changing his bandages...he breaks down sobbing on the cot, begging for forgiveness.

"I-I was wrong. You do..s-so much good work. You were thriving, performing all these miracles, and....a-and I tried to take that all away....why heal me?"

"Kallamar, I'm not holding that against you anymore." You reassure him. "You're free of the Blue Crown's influence. I know you didn't really want me dead, did you?"

"..n-no, my...followers suggested it. Cult morale was low a-after what happened to Leshy and Heket so...I had to do something!"

Whether that revelation made you feel better or worse, you find it in your heart to forgive him, never denying him treatment even if others in the cult disagree.

You wanted to help him. One squid healing another.

To this day, he still feels bad visiting your medbay, but with time he becomes more comfortable approaching you whenever he gets sick.

Soon enough you find out one of the primary causes of his stomach pains.

It's cauliflower stew (while there's a 5% chance of sickness for everyone else who consumes it, his is always at 100% for some reason).

As it turns out he, ironically, has a severe cauliflower intolerance.

Poor guy never knew that was a thing.

#clanask #anonymous #cotl x reader #cult of the lamb x reader #follower kallamar #kallamar x reader #cotl kallamar x reader #headcanons #tw vomit #hurt/comfort #platonic

146 notes · View notes

nethhiri · 1 month

Text

Marooned: Chapter 25

Kid x Fem Reader x Killer

Warnings: violence lite, kissing girls and liking it

Fuck Around...

The Victoria Punk pulled into port in the early afternoon. This island was clearly not affiliated with any kind of marine presence. It appeared disorganized and haphazard from your bird's eye view. There were a lot of buildings, most of them looked like shops rather than houses. Stopover islands often had tons of resources available to purchase, but permanent residents were few. That was doubly true of stopover islands without marines. The type of people that wanted to settle in one place didn't feel safe without them around, and business practices were shady at best, downright criminal at worst.

While you would have been nervous to step foot on an island like this in your past life, you had been on many such like this in your career as the Sea Snake. Places like this, with no laws, and disenfranchised folks, were ideal for promising better lives, and instead kidnapping people to sell. By way of this, they were also great places to ambush traffickers, and it wasn't difficult to recognize which were affiliated with corrupted marines. They had money and they tended to go after people that were younger and attractive. And if you happened to catch others in the cross-fire, oh well. You had tunnel vision and it was dead set on revenge.

The girls had already scrambled off while you had to hang back and wash dishes after breakfast. Kid and Killer left together not long ago. You debated on whether or not to bring Mini, although she had been crammed on this ship and would also make a great pack-mule, so you decided she could come. You had a list of stuff you wanted, but remembered Killer had taken your savings. It would be really embarrassing to ask for a little back. Though, you had wanted to try your hand at counterfeiting.

While you were thinking about the logistics of shopping, a familiar face walked up beside you. "Want some company?"

You greeted Heat with a smile. "Only if you don't mind going clothes shopping first. Do you have any paper I could borrow?"

Heat gave you a curious glance.

"So I can make Berry." You wiggled your fingers, devil fruit powers ready.

Heat snorted. "Look at the little marine now."

You shot Heat a glare. "Watch it or I won't share my fake money with you."

The two of you, plus Mini, headed off the ship as soon as you had converted enough regular paper into something indistinguishable from Berry. As you said, the first order of business was clothes shopping. Heat had good taste, so you were glad that he wanted to go with you. Heat picked out a few things for himself, leather things that matched his aesthetic. He had also picked some things for you, of a similar style. You couldn't remember ever owning anything leather.

You held up some of the stuff he had picked. "Heat, this is too much."

"No, no it'll match your jacket. It'll look cool."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Did your captain put you up to this?"

"No!" Heat crossed his heart. "But..." He was a little sheepish, "I do know what he likes." He gestured to the pile of things you had to try on. "I kinda figured you wanted to catch his eye."

"First of all, maybe. Second of all, I could catch anyone's eye that I wanted." You grabbed the pile and went into a dressing room.

Heat rolled his eyes. "I have no doubts." He continued to browse for himself. "Show me when you have something on."

There were some black leather shorts with straps on the legs. Pants were more your thing, though these shorts looked really good on you and you would need more clothes for hotter weather, granted leather was not the most comfortable fabric in heat. A few simple tops, some tank tops since you generally liked your arms exposed, some other varieties so you had options, including a deep red corseted top that you couldn't resist. There were pants that were more your vibe, baggy, many pockets, and hanging from the hips, with some decorative straps. And then there was what Heat had picked out: white leather low-rise pants that laced all the way up the legs on the sides paired with a top to match. You had to admit it would look cool with your jacket, and you did look eye-catching. Maybe Heat knew a thing or two.

Heat gave you a thumbs up when you walked out. "See?"

"You were right." You considered yourself in the mirror. "Pick out some more things for me."

After trying a few more things, you both settled on your final options. You had also left Heat to his own devices while you grabbed some more intimate things, simple things, not anything wild. There was nothing worse than being short on bras and panties. You hung your bags on Mini's tusks, much to her displeasure. They only got heavier as you and Heat made your way through the various shops. Heat wanted to get some mapping things for Wire and journaling things for himself. You decided to pick up a small sketchbook. There were some things you wanted to start working on and needed to draw plans for. Speaking of which, you needed to visit a few more places.

"I'm gonna head back to the ship. Want me to bring the bags?" Heat asked.

You cocked your head at him. "That's kind of you to offer. That would be great."

He took them from Mini and she gave him a grateful lick on the cheek. "You gonna come out with us later?" He patted her on the head in return.

You were staring at his arms. Is it a crew requirement to have beefy arms? You knew those bags weren't light. "I'll think about it." You winked at him. "Which bar?"

Heat shrugged. "All of them." You both laughed. "Don't go by yourself though," Heat added. "This is a rough place at night."

Shooting him an incredulous look, "You're so cute, Heat." It was endearing, however unwarranted. You had literally skinned a guy's face a few days ago.

He rolled his eyes again, but his cheeks were tinted. "I'll put your bags on your bunk."

"Thank you." You couldn't help adding, "Don't go looking through my panties now."

Heat walked off and gave you the finger as you cackled.

Hopping on Mini's back, now that she was unencumbered with bags, you got on to your other errands: finding an armory and some place that sold scrap metal, because you would be damned if you asked Kid to borrow some. It was dusk when you got back to the Punk and Mini was loaded down with various pieces of metal. You had gotten a few other items as well. You didn't really want to put all of it by your bunk, not that there was room anyway, so you brought everything to the infirmary for storage until you could get to it.

The last time you had cleaned up nicely was for Killer's party and that was with help. The boat was pretty vacant. Everyone was out for the most part except for some stragglers and some rookies who were assigned watch duty. You treated yourself to a quick shower, probably the only time you had gotten the women's showers to yourself. There wasn't time for your hair to dry so you left it alone. You mainly wanted to wash the day's grime from your skin so you didn't stink. Nothing worse than someone with B.O. grinding on you, not that you would be doing that.

With maroon lips, a little bit of mascara, and the outfit that Heat had put together, you looked better than you had the last time. Maybe you thought that because it was more your style than a dress. The last touch was using your power to change the color of your heeled boots from black to white. No better way to ruin an outfit than to wear clashing shoes. One of the items you had acquired earlier in the day was a little switchblade, which you tucked into your shoe. Never knew when it could come in handy. You threw your holster and coat on, then decided your coat hid too much skin. Normally, you didn't care and you would want to advertise who you were, but you hadn't been to a bar in a long time and wanted to be a little unrestrained.

When you had a big, beautiful beast like Minerva, whose best attribute was sense of smell, though she would argue it was her tusks if she could speak, it was easy to find the bar that the majority of the Kid Pirates were patronizing. No one had bothered you on the way there. Something about a huge animal mounted by a person with an aggressive demeanor really limited the amount of people in your way. Minerva unfortunately was too large to comfortably fit in the establishment so she was content to sit outside, occasionally snorting at people to spook them, for her own entertainment.

The bar was noisy and dim, as expected, and packed with a grungy variety of pirates, thieves, bounty hunters, and other criminally minded folks. The white of your outfit and the fact you were coming in alone drew the attention of many gazes. Most people wore dark clothes, so you stood out. Not to mention, you were gifted with a body so perfect, you could lay someone down on hot coals to use them as a bridge to walk across and they would thank you. At least, that's what someone had told you once. For a moment, the bar had quieted to a low murmur, save for a boisterous laugh that you recognized as belonging to the Red Menace. Purposefully, you ignored that area and went straight to an open stool at the bar.

Of course Kid noticed as you walked in. His eyes devoured your figure in that tight leather outfit. If you had asked him if he was waiting to see you walk in, he would deny it, but he was pleased that you did. He was not pleased, however, when you ignored him and went to the bar. And he was especially not pleased when you started giggling and flirting with some loser who bought you a drink. He didn't even have a bounty for fuck sake. Kid grumbled to himself and downed the rest of his beer, slamming the stein on the table and demanding another from the waitress.

"What's wrong, pirate?" The pretty ginger shifted in his lap.

"Shut up." Kid continued groping the petite little whore that had wound herself around him. It fed his ego that women, and some men, threw themselves at him. He liked that they decorated his side at whatever bar they decide to visit. But now, for some reason, he was just annoyed. The girl in his lap squeaked. He had been squeezing her a little too tightly. "Why don't ya fuck off?" He all but tossed the woman away from him, returning to his refilled mug trying to burn through that guy's head with his glare.

You could feel Kid's attention on you. You smirked knowing that meant you were probably bothering him in some way. The guy you were pretending to be interested in was telling you about all his adventures, obviously trying to impress you. You finished your drink, leaving the bar while he was still talking to you. His voice faltered and he turned around to mope over his glass. A hand grabbed at you while you were walking to a corner where they were playing darts. You took the hand by the wrist and held it like it was a dirty sock.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." This was one of your favorite games to play. A game where you let them think you were simply a pretty thing to look at, let them get themselves into trouble, and then you got to punish them for it.

"Why not, sweet cheeks? You're dressed like you want some attention."

You dropped his hand, ignoring him, and started to walk away, when he grabbed you again. This time you turned his arm around behind his back and forced his head down on the table. Then you rested your knee on his back to free up your hand, taking his drink and finishing it off. "Least you could do is buy me a drink first." You let him go and continued on. He was lucky you didn't smash his glass over his head.

Killer had watched the interaction. He, like Kid, had also noticed when you came in. For a while, when you hadn't shown up, he thought you may have left completely, but Heat had mentioned you had been with him all afternoon and planned on meeting up with them. Killer thought your hair was cute down instead of in its usual ponytail. And of course you were hot in leather, even so Killer thought you would probably look hot in just about anything. He saw when that man had grabbed you, noticing that his hand tightened around his glass. When the guy grabbed you a second time, he heard the mug in Kid's hand shatter, causing him to relax his own grip before he did the same. Prior to either of them getting up to handle it, they watched you push the guy down into the table. Killer swore Kid had a smug hint of a smile on his face. Honestly, Killer should have known you would put him his place yourself.

Darts was a lot harder to play with one eye. If you had won, you would have gotten some money. If you lost, you owed your competition a kiss. Your competition happened to be the short, ginger girl that had been sitting with Kid earlier, though you hadn't noticed her at that time, and you had lost badly. The girl, whose name was Ruby, was cute, freckles spattered across her cheeks, and her ginger hair, short and wild about her face. She was like a pixie.

"You talk a big game for someone so tiny," you quipped. You weren't used to being the taller one in a pair. Like many other things, it had been some time since you had kissed a girl, though the last time was probably also at a bar. She grabbed your hand and led you into a corner booth. "I think the deal was a kiss, not a date."

"Yeah, well, have one drink with me. That guy on the other side of the bar pissed me off and you seem like a fun time. I saw you smash that dude's face." She laughed and motioned for a waiter to bring you drinks.

"Do you want me to smash your guy's face, too? Who was it?" You smirked. Maybe coming out tonight would be more fun than you thought. A waiter came over and put two glasses in front of you both, filled with a small amount of greenish liquid. "Absinthe?" You raised an eyebrow. So I'll be getting shitfaced tonight. You took a sip and scrunched your face at the strong taste.

"Yeah it's kind of my drink of choice." Ruby pointed to the table that Kid was sitting at. "That red-head over there. But I don't think you want to fight him. It's Eustass Kid, of the Kid Pirates."

You almost spit out your drink. "Is that so?" This girl had questionable taste, like yourself. "He pisses me off, too." You pondered something for a minute. "Do you want to really piss him off and get your kiss?" A sinister thought poisoned your mind.

"See? I knew you would be fun."

You downed both drinks and grabbed her by the hand this time, leading her outside. Earlier, you saw that the booth that Kid was in happened to be by a window. You pulled Ruby to the side of the bar, not in front of the window, but next to it, close enough where you knew they could hear you, yet couldn't see you. You were both giggling as you pushed Ruby so her back was to the wall. She wrapped her arms around your neck and jumped up to wrap her legs around you, you supporting her with one hand, while the other played with her hair. "Maybe I have a thing for redheads," you wondered out loud. You didn't even know if Kid had noticed the two of you slip out. Even if he didn't, you still got to make out with one cute ginger tonight. The alcohol was starting to make the edges of your mind fuzzy.

Kid couldn't rip his orange leer from your back. What were you doing, talking to that pint-sized whore from earlier? He barely even participated in the conversation with his own officers. His eyeballs almost fell out of his head when he watched you two go outside. There were only a handful of things people went outside to do. I am NOT jealous. Those two whores can fuck around outside all they want. So why couldn't he relax and enjoy his drink? He growled and turned to Killer to bitch, when they both heard giggling and felt a thump outside the wall. This was not a well-constructed establishment. That could be anyone. They went back to their conversation, though Kid slowly tapered off when he heard sounds that were definitely from your mouth.

The little ginger demon was not shy, slipping her tongue in your mouth and snaking her hands into your hair. You took turns leaving marks on each other's necks. "How do you know him?" She asked you.

You pulled away from biting at her collarbone to answer, "Fucked. Tried to kill each other. Fucked again."

"So you're dating?" She bit the top of your breast, making you gasp.

That evolved into a laugh. "Not a chance in hell."

"You like poking the bear then?" She tugged at the laces on your top.

"Something like that," You grinned. At once, her hand stilled and she tensed. You stopped and looked at her face, which had paled.

She whispered to you, "Good because the bear is right behind you." She unraveled herself from you and put her feet back down on the ground, slipping out from under you and scurrying back into the bar.

You turned around to see Kid, as red as you thought he would be. "You scared my date away."

"What do ya think yer doing?"

"I lost a bet." You put your hands out in defeat, as if you had no choice but to comply and this was not at all your idea. He wasn't yelling at you, which was strange. The rest of the Kid Pirates were behind him. You guessed that was why.

"We're going somewhere else." He grabbed you and pushed you in the direction of the others. "Don't get left behind." He stalked off to walk by Killer.

Heat found you in the back of the group, Mini trotting beside you. "She was cute. Do you have a thing for redheads?"

"You know I was wondering that myself."

Heat stopped you for a second to retie your top and wipe some smeared lipstick from around your mouth. "Have you eaten today?"

"Not really." You lowered your voice so only Heat could hear, "Did I get him mad?"

"I can tell. You're not gonna last the night if you don't eat. That was only the first bar." Heat fake-punched you in the arm. "Yeah, he made us leave early. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry. I didn't think he would do that."

"What did you think he was gonna do?" Heat realized his mistake. "No, don't answer that."

It was too late. You were already explaining an elaborate plot fitting for an X-rated film. Very loudly, in fact, since you were sort of drunk. The half of the crew that heard it was pink from head to toe, including Killer. All the girls were giggling and making gagging noises. Kid was grinning ear to ear, chest puffed out, a 180 degree turn from the moping, pouty captain that he had been minutes before.

If that's what she wanted, all she had to do was ask. But now I think I'll make her beg. Kid's ego had been bruising this entire time, when it really should have been inflated.

#spoiler alert: next chapter reader Finds Out #next chappie will be spicy!#idk how many times I gotta say I want Heat to be my bff #marooned #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece #x reader

24 notes · View notes

sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

Text

Deep In Her Heart, The Thunder Rolls

♤ Next Chapter | Blue Jeans Masterlist

♤ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Y/n "Tilly" Tillerson

♤ Word Count: 2.2 K

♤ Warnings: Fluff, Cuddly!Rhett, Horny!thots, Angst..

♤ A/n: It's just a blurb, a bit of setup for part 3...

♤ Library | Main Masterlist

To say that Rhett Abbott was sweet on you, was the understatement of the century. You left Wabang for college a year and a half ago, and though you “broke up,” the two of you remained faithful to one another.

I wasn’t that you had promised each other that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone else. No, you just could never find anyone that seemed better than Rhett. You were still in love with the man, and the fact that he came up to Bozeman at least once every 6 months, kept you more than satisfied.

The both of you had decided to keep your situation on a need-to-know bases, as in no one else needed to know. It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no it was more the fact that you were just both very private people, especially when it came to each other. Rhett had come up with an array of excuses to tell his family about why he was constantly going to Bosman.

From circuit business, to needing a new Stetson, to events, nothing was off the table when it came to seeing you. You thankfully had your own dorm room, meaning that no matter when Rhett showed up, he always had a place to stay. His appearances became so regular, that the dorm building security guard had come to know Rhett by name and would hold a conversation every time he visited.

Most of the time, Rhett’s visits ended with the two of you locked in your room for the whole weekend. Only ever coming out when you’d ordered food, or to go on the occasional date night. It wasn’t that you were to sex-crazed individuals, which you were, but the deep need that you both had to just be in each other’s presence was overwhelming.

You and Rhett were like a part of each other’s souls, as if at one point you’d been so deeply intertwined, that when you parted it was as if you could barely breathe. You had etched your mark on each other’s souls, and there would be no removing it.

…

Rhett was coming up for the weekend, and while you hadn’t seen him in two months, you talked every day. You had been working through your assignments, wanting to have everything finished and turned in before he showed up. The massive write-up for econ, had been time-consuming. The actual writing of the paper had been easy enough, though the hours you spent researching the economic downfall in the 1930s had been studious and mind-numbing.

You loved school, really, but between the tutoring and honor society, you were more than ready for a chill, relaxing weekend with Rhett.

Clicking submit on the paper, you glance at your phone, and two unread messages flash across the screen. One from Rhett stating that he was just pulling into the dorm parking, and the other from Daniel, a guy that you’d been “helping” in classes.

Hey T, did you finish up that chemistry assignment? It's due Sunday.

Alright, so maybe you weren’t just helping, but Daniel was a busy guy and paid you well for the work you did.

Yeah, I emailed it to you this morning, but my venmo isn’t working. I need cash.

You type out the message and hit send, throwing your phone back onto your bed as a knock sounds at your door. You're up and moving without a second thought for the outfit you're wearing, the booty shorts barely peeking out from under one of Rhett’s oversized hoodies. Your hair in a clear mess atop your head, barely being held up by the claw clip.

You pull open the door swiftly, only to find Rhett talking with your neighbor, the bitch. Every time Rhett was over, she made goo-goo eyes at him. Clearly trying to get in his pants, you’d think she would have gotten the message after hearing you scream Rhett’s name during every visit.

Rhett turns to you when you open the door, though your eyes are focused on Danica. Your hand grasps at the shirt Rhett is wearing, and tug him harshly into the room. Your eyes never leave Danica as she glares at you, a fake smile plastered on your lips before you rudely slam the door in her face.

“Tilly, that wasn’t very nice.” The teasing, yet cocky tone in his voice has you rolling your eyes.

“I don’t like sharing, Abbott.” Your voice clipped and harsh, as your eyes soften when looking up into his own.

One hand settles to rest on his abdomen, as the other wraps up around his neck. You deliver a harsh tug, pulling Rhett down and slotting your lips against one another. You can feel Rhett’s smile against your lips, his hands drop down around your waist, slip beneath the hoodie and tap your ass, signaling you to jump.

You waste no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, both arms curling around his neck. One slipped up to grasp the Stetson atop his head, pulling away from the kiss for a second and tossing the hat onto your desk. The idea of your lips being apart is clearly displeasing to Rhett. As one of his hands slips from underneath your ass, to grasp your cheeks in between his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips back against yours.

Your lips work against each other, hot needy kisses pass between you. Your tongues work in tandem against each other, pushing and pulling in a network of want and passion. You don't even notice that the pair of you have moved until Rhett has you pressed against your mattress.

The pressure of his belt buckle against your cunt has you bucking your hips, and a wanton moan slips past your lips.

“Hold on, sugar.”

Rhett pulls away, his hand slips up to cradle you face, thumb brushing against your swollen bottom lip.

“Just let me look at you.”

Your face nuzzles into the palm of his hand, kissing it gently. The blue in Rhett’s eyes shines bright, and the small specks of green peek out from behind his iris. His stare makes you blush, it was always like he could see right into your soul. Moments like this were always more vulnerable than any other time, even in moments when you were naked and exposed.

“I missed you.”

The comment slips past your lips, so quiet and gentle. Though it causes Rhett to smile, before pressing a small against your lips. Foreheads resting against one another, the weight of his body settles against your own.

“I missed you, Til.” Noses bopping against each other, before Rhett is standing. Slipping the button-up off his shoulders, the clank of his buckle releasing sounds, as he pushes his pants to the floor. He motions towards you to sit up, his hands reach for the bottom of the hoodie, slipping it from your form.

“Think this is mine, darlin’.

“Did you bring me a new one? It doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

He laughs slightly at your question, reaching to tug your shorts off. Leaving the both of you in your underwear and pulling you to lay on his chest as you settle on the bed.

“Don’t I always?”

Your head nods against his chest, knowing that every time Rhett came up, he brought you a sweater that he’d been wearing. You told them that the smell of his aftershave had comforted you and had made you feel like you weren’t so far apart.

The warmth of his body seeps deep into your bones, and your eyes start to drift off. The stress of the week fades from your hold, as Rhett runs a single hand up and down your spine.

“Sleep Tilly.”

The last thing you remember is a soft kiss being placed against the crown of your head, both yours and Rhett’s breath settling out into a slow rhythm, encased by sleep.

…

The loud knocking at your door wakes you and Rhett up, stretching up to place a sweet kiss against Rhett’s lips, you slowly move from the bed. Though Rhett reaches out, holding on to your waist, as he whines into the crook of your neck. His breath tickles you and you can’t help but to giggle.

Your bubble is once again, popped as the knocking ensues again. Rhett finally releases you, so that you can pull on the hoodie and shorts. Glancing back over your shoulder you laugh at the sight, Rhett laid out on your bed, arms tucked behind his head, in nothing but his boxers. The sight makes your toes curl in want, your eyes racking up his form. To find a wide smile directed at you, his baby blues shimmering with mischief.

“Y/n, open the damn door.”

Daniel's voice has you moving again, grasping the handle of the door and ripping it wide open. Had you ripped it open so wide, in hopes that Danica would once again be lurking and see an almost naked Rhett spread out? Yes, though your hopes are dashed away when you see it’s only Daniel.

“Hey D, come on in.”

His eyes move behind you, settling against Rhett who waves a hand slightly. Not moving an inch from his spot, clearly comfortable in his skin.

“Baby, this is Daniel.” You motion between the two, eye’s finding Daniel’s. “D, this is Rhett.”

Each of them exchanging pleasantries, though nothing more. You push off the door, where you had been leaning, and reach under your desk in search of the chemistry binder from last year.

You find the worn binder and toss it to Daniel, eyes tracing to see if you have anything else that might help him.

“That’s all my notes from Granger's class last year. More than enough to help you pass tests and I can finish out the papers. But I want extra for the final, I’m gonna have a packed schedule with just my work.”

Rhett silently watches you, his sweet girl is hard-assing this massive guy and making demands. He always liked it when you were bossy, he thought it made you look hot. That fire in your eyes, always set him a light.

Daniel slips two crisp hundred dollar bills in your palm and glances back to Rhett, who only smiles wider. You laugh at him, your eyes rolling, and then look back toward Daniel.

“That’s fine,” He shakes the binder at you slightly, with a grateful smile. “Thanks, for this too.”

You give him another smile, and move to open the door for him. Trying to be polite, but more than ready to be back in bed with Rhett.

“Alright, it was nice meeting you.” Another wave passes between the two men, then Daniel is out the door. Calling a ‘thanks again’ over his shoulder as he leaves.

You turn around on your heel, and a smile spreads across your face seeing Rhett in your bed. Before he has time to react, you’re moving for the cowboy, jumping up in his lap and snuggling up against his neck.

“Quiet the criminal, aren’t you?” his teasing tone has you laughing in his neck, arms, and legs wrapping around him like a koala.

“Daniel doesn’t have the time, and I like the extra cash.”

Rhett hums against the crown of your head, his arms wrapping around you in a tight grip.

“Long as you’re being careful, baby. Don’t think I missed the tattoos, I’m not stupid darin’.”

A heavy sigh is released from your chest, you pull away from Rhett so that you’re sitting in his lap. His hands automatically find home on your hips under the hoodie, gentle circles from his thumb rubbed into your hip bones.

“Look I know. Daniel is into some shady stuff, but he’s always been nice to me and if I called him for anything, he would be there.” Your fingers spin in your lap, a nervous habit. “It’s just nice to know that without you here, I have someone else that has my back. I don’t trust guys in general, but especially on campus.”

Rhett notices your slight nervous nature, and the tone you have when you mention the guys living on the campus. He’d seen them enough and known right away that they were douchebags, but you had never mentioned having trouble.

“There something I need to know about baby?”

The term of endearment has you glancing up, loving how sweet the tough cowboy could be with you.

“I had some problems when I first moved in, but Daniel ended them almost instantly. I didn’t wanna worry you, you already have so much going on.”

Your eyes causally avoid Rhett’s, already feeling bad that you’ve kept it from him. Rhett moves you sit up, and pulls you so your flush with his chest. So close that your eyes can’t help but to look at each other.

“Tilly, I don’t care what is going on in my life. You tell me from now on, please?”

It was rare to hear Rhett ask anyone ‘please,’ and the tone in his voice makes your stomach clench in pain. The thought of hurting him, even if it was on accident, was the worst possible thing you could think of happening. He was your person and you’d only ever kept it from him because you thought you were protecting him.

“I’m sorry baby, never again.”

The placement of your lips against his is out of the pure need to express your love, to prove how much he really meant to you.

“Promise?” The question whispered against your lips.

“I promise.”

…

I was a promise that you kept,

until you couldn’t.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbot x reader #blue jeans universe #outer range #outer range fic #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott blurb

366 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 1 hour

Text

Everything I Ever Wanted Part 4/4

The last part. The end of this glorious story. I had such a blast writing it. All the world building, the characters, their stories.

I'm not sure if I'm 100% percent done with this world, but for now this is goodbye.

Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged even with it suddenly being scuttled by staff because it had the word escort in one of the tags.

Here we have the Harringtons trying every trick in the book to get more money from Steve, and the birth of Steve's and Eddie's baby.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve stared at the single pink line in bitter disappointment. He knew he should feel grateful that he didn’t get pregnant on the first try so that they had more time to prepare.

But the acrid feeling burned his insides like a sick fire.

Eddie came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his middle. He kissed their bond bite and nuzzled the scent gland to send waves of comfort through their bond.

“It is four in five, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured gently. “There’s always next time.”

Steve turned in his arms and buried his face into Eddie’s scent gland to deepen the scent between them.

“What if this means we were wrong?” he whimpered. “What if I’m not a golden omega after all?”

Eddie held him tight. “Then we’ll adopt or try surrogacy. We’ll figure it, Stevie. I promise.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Okay...”

Eddie kissed the top of his head fiercely and held on for dear life. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that if he was kind, that if he was just, he would let Steve bear Eddie’s pups.

****

Eddie’s rut came before Steve’s heat, but that wasn’t uncommon. Especially with Steve’s heats more frequent than a regular omega but not as often as a golden omega.

Steve was happy to service his alpha’s ruts. It was the one part of his job he actually missed. Tommy had tried to say that he just liked the rough sex, but that wasn’t it. He loved the providing for an alpha when they were at their most vulnerable. To feed them, clean up after them, to be the thing they held onto when their whole world was shifting out from under them.

Ruts originally were for the alpha to impregnate as many omegas as possible without the bond. Back when the world’s population was too low. But for whatever reason even after the population grew, the alphas still developed a mindless need for sex a few times a year.

Steve personally thought that it was something bred for like fucking animals because men tended to think with the wrong head.

What this all boiled down to was that when Steve’s first heat since they bonded, Eddie was able to be lucid throughout the whole experience and give Steve the much deserved attention he needed.

Afterwards, Steve was forced to admit that having Eddie take control of his heat was even better than when they were both under the haze of the hormones.

Never before had a heat been so smooth, so effortless. Gone was the feeling of not being full enough, of not being good enough.

But Eddie soothed all that away.

So Steve really shouldn’t have been surprised when six weeks later he was staring a double pink line.

“Why the fuck are the lines pink?” Steve huffed. “Isn’t that sexist?”

Eddie looked at his bondmate, husband, and love of his life with fond exasperation. “Honey...is that really your take away right now?”

Steve looked up at him in adorable befuddlement before he realized what the double line meant.

“I’m pregnant?!” he squealed. He threw the applicator in the sink and hugged Eddie tightly.

“You sure are!” Eddie said, swinging them both around in their rather large sized bathroom, but still managing to knock things over in their excitement and overwhelming joy.

“My baby is having our baby!” he shrieked in delight.

Steve threw back his head and laughed.

“Who should we call first?” he asked once he was put back down.

“Wayne!” Steve said at the same time Eddie cried, “Robin!”

They laughed and then their next exclamation reversed, with Steve saying Robin and Eddie saying Wayne.

“Both?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Both is good,” Eddie agreed.

****

They set up a live group chat. Robin answering first and then Wayne popping in.

After they said their hellos Steve held up the pregnancy test slowly.

Robin gasped and squealed in delight. “I told you! I’m so happy for you!”

Wayne’s reaction was more mild, but no less sincere.

“I’m happy for you both,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as a tear slid down his cheek.

“You’re going to be a grandpa,” Eddie murmured.

Wayne pressed a hand to his mouth as more tears fell. He let out a watery chuckle.

“I’m going to be a grandpa,” he whispered. He laughed out loud. “I’m going to be a grandpa!”

“You’ll come live with us until the baby is born, right?” Steve asked nervously.

Wayne looked between Eddie and Steve’s earnest faces and any objection he had flew out the window.

“Hell yeah, I am,” he said gruffly. “It’s about time I retired anyway.”

Everyone in the chat cheered.

****

After all their friends and had been told, Steve informed Starcourt of their pregnancy.

He was informed that Benny and Robin would coordinate the agency’s announcement to coincide with Steve and Eddie’s press release of the news.

They would wait until the twenty week mark when the chance of a miscarriage became an impossibility.

Steve would wear loose fitting clothes and more dresses to hide the bump until an announce would be ready to be made.

Robin and Benny would also manage the rumor mill and their privacy.

They got a very good doctor who specialized in golden omega care, now that Steve couldn’t be anything else.

Those first few weeks were bliss. They were happy and thrilled that Steve was pregnant.

They started preparing their nursery. Winnie the Pooh themed. The characters painted on the walls. The books on the shelves. Stuff animals galore.

Will had done painting of the walls and Steve nudged the omega in the direction of illustrating for children’s books. In particular his alpha’s children’s books about Poppy the Purple Dragon. It was a series of books about teaching gender and sexuality to late tween-early teens.

Will blushed. Mike had taken a page out of Eddie’s playbook and started really focusing on writing middle school aged books about alpha health and then just slowly branched out to all genders from gentle pushes from his in-laws, El, and even his older sister.

They weren’t originally going to have pictures, but Steve thought it was a good idea since it was something Will was passionate about too.

Dustin hadn’t bonded yet. Everyone had thought that he would have bonded Suzie when he brought her home from college. But they were both alphas and at first that wasn’t a problem, but soon it became clear that Dustin would benefit from having an omega partner.

So they broke up.

It was no surprise to anyone that Erica presented as an alpha. She also was unbonded, but that was more a personal preference then because she hadn’t found the right person.

Jim was grateful that El was just a beta. She had health problems as a child and both Jim and Joyce were concerned that adding a second gender would have further harmed her.

She was beautiful and charming young woman and Steve and Eddie, who claimed they didn’t have a favorite, was without a doubt their number one of the kids.

She was a fashion designer in New York and incredibly happy.

Then the news dropped that Steve was pregnant and suddenly everyone was rushing out to LA to make sure he was safe. El was the only one who chose to stay, after all she could design clothes from anywhere and LA was as a big a fashion hub as New York was.

First there was the fallout from the fact that Steve was a golden omega.

Starcourt Services put out the following statement:

“Starcourt Services, along with it’s sister companies across the globe have long since known the possibility of untested omegas being golden omegas when they are brought to us, but due to the privacy of our omegas, Steve Munson ne Harrington is merely the first golden omega willing to come out as such since retiring.

When the former escort came to us with the news of his pregnancy and his golden status, we were overjoyed for him. But we knew that this would have to be carefully curated to the press.

This is not like the Church coming out and saying that they knew that one third of their sequestered infertile omegas were there without their consent.

This is the opposite of that. This is Starcourt Services, we pride ourselves on our client and escort confidentiality. If an escort had wanted the public to know that they learned later in life that they were an golden omega, you would have been informed.

However, with the nature of Steve Harrington’s marriage and bonding with known rockstar, Eddie Munson, his pregnancy, no matter how much he could have tried to hide, would be leaked eventually. So between his people and ours, we were able to formulate what we hope will be an appropriate response.

Again, we congratulate Eddie and Steve Munson for their upcoming bundle of joy and wish them all the happiness in the world.

We will be holding a press conference to answer an further questions on...”

And they listed a date and time.

Which Steve and Eddie had wisely sat it out, because apparently Steve’s parents had shown up and asked about the difference in bid price verse golden omega dowries.

And when they were told that golden omega dowries had been over-inflated by the media and that some times the “price” wasn’t a price at all if the omega’s soulmate wasn’t from the elite.

Hooboy.

To say that went over like a lead balloon would be an understatement. It blew up the media and several outlets were forced to admit that they had known about golden omegas choosing from all walks of life, that they would only report on the rich ones.

Often times a benefactor would step in and help pay the dowry but that wasn’t always the case.

Jim Hopper took advantage of the situation by running for president of the United States under the platform of creating dowries and testing centers for parents who can’t afford to pay for the golden omega test. And to give parents and infertile omegas the right to chose not to take the test.

Steve was sure he was going to win. Because even conservatives would chomp at the bit for the chance that their children might be golden omegas.

When it looked like the Harringtons weren’t going to get more money from Starcourt they tried to take Eddie and Steve to court over grandparents’ rights. Claiming that as an escort Steve is incapable of being a loving parent due to the nature of having so many sexual partners.

After their lawyers showed all their trips out of town while Steve was in school with no evidence of having alternative supervision and how they would come just often enough that it couldn’t be considered child abandonment (thereby proving they knew what they were doing), the judge laughed them out her court room.

So they did the last thing they could they tried to blackmail Steve into giving them more money.

What did they try and blackmail him with you ask?

That he hadn’t been a virgin when he had been auctioned off.

Steve sat there staring up at them, five months pregnant, in his and Eddie’s living room on their outrageously plush sofa and laughed.

“You have no proof of that,” he said shaking his head. “I only had one girlfriend and there is no way Nancy Wheeler is going to say shit about me, not with all the things I know about her.”

Mrs. Harrington rolled her eyes. “Just because she was your only girlfriend doesn’t mean you weren’t a slut before her or after her.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her. “Just because Steve wanted to be an escort when he was younger doesn’t mean he was sleeping around as a teen. What is wrong with you people?”

“We have photos!” Mr Harrington bellowed.

Then Steve really did laugh. Threw back his head, clutching his stomach as he just burst out in peels of laughter.

“If you’ve got what I think you’ve got,” he said once he was calm enough to speak. “You ain’t got shit. Because the cherry popping refers to my hymen being broken. Which, considering I played in a couple of different sports, and that can cause hymen breaking, is such bullshit. And even if it hadn’t been, I still would have been considered a vaginal virgin because those pictures you have is of me fucking Nancy before either of us presented.”

Eddie’s grin was feral. “So what you’re saying, honey,” he said, his voice positively dripping with disdain, “is that they just admitted to having child pornography of their own child.”

Both the elder Harringtons blanched.

“Now get out of my sight,” Steve said waving them off, “otherwise that lovely little protection order I have waiting for you will spring into effect.”

They sputtered and protested but they were forced to leave the premises with all their hopes and dreams dashed.

“Morons,” Eddie huffed. “Like I don’t have a legal team, a PR team, and a whole slew of people willing to take them down for fun. And that’s not including your people, babe.”

Steve shook his head. “I honestly don’t know where they thought they would get away with any of their attempts. I was starting think I was starring in a roadrunner cartoon for fuck’s sake.”

Eddie chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “But it’s over and done with now. I want you focusing on that pup of ours you’ve got growing.”

“Wayne and El are going to be pissed they missed out on the fun,” Steve murmured, curling up into his alpha’s side.

“They are,” he hummed in agreement, “but I’m grateful they weren’t here to see how vile they were to you.”

Steve chirped happily as Eddie rubbed his bond mark. He was safe, his pup was safe, and that was all that mattered.

****

Even with the epidural, Steve swore off more pups while he was giving birth. It was awful, it was horrible. Zero out of ten, would NOT recommend to anyone.

Then the beautiful, curly haired little boy was placed into his arms and he was in love. He wanted a half dozen more.

“Eddie...” he said looking up at his alpha with awe and adoration. “He’s perfect.”

Eddie smiled back down at his little family. “Look at what you made, Stevie...look at this sweet little baby. He’s all ours.”

The nurse handed Steve a bottle of formula. “Are you sure you don’t want to try breast feeding?”

Steve shook his head. “I want to be able to have other people feed him, being able to sleep more regularly, and not leak all the time.”

The nurse did not look impressed, as they could have hired a wet nurse, but wisely left them alone. Steve immediately gave it to his baby was happy to see that he quickly learned what it was for and began to eat.

“You ready for his grandfather and godmother to see him?” Eddie asked gently, smoothing Steve’s hair.

Steve smiled up at him and nodded.

Eddie went out to the hall and brought in the two guests who were waiting patiently.

Wayne checked on Steve and then made sure Eddie was faring okay, while Robin rushed to Steve’s side and fussed over the new mama.

“He looks like Dustin,” she cooed. “All curly hair and no teeth.”

Steve smiled up at her. “That’s why we decided on the name Dustin Wayne Munson.”

Wayne looked down at his grandson in awe. “Oh, Stevie, you didn’t have to go and do that.”

Eddie punched Wayne’s arm good-naturedly. “Like we would call him anything else, old man.”

He grabbed a burp cloth and draped over Steve’s shoulder, who proceeded burp their baby.

“You can’t have two Dustins or two Waynes though,” Robin said. “What are you going to call him to avoid confusion?”

“Winnie,” Eddie explained. “Once he gets into school, he might choose to go by either his first or middle name, but to us, he’s Winnie.”

“Welcome to the world, little Winnie,” she murmured gently, reaching out to capture a curl. “May it be kind to you.”

“I think it’s time to let Mom and Winnie sleep,” Eddie said. “We can tell his other namesake when both are better rested.”

Robin and Wayne nodded, filing out.

Dustin would be over the moon when he found out later, tears of joy streaming down his face as Winnie was placed into his arms, surrounded by all of Steve’s found family.

Chrissy had already went out and bought two wardrobes full of clothes of varying sizes so that the little one would always have something fashionable to wear.

Robin was swearing undying fidelity to this three hour old baby.

The rest of the Party was promising to teach him all sorts of the things from science to basketball.

Even the boys from Corroded Coffin got in on it, offering their services to babysit whenever they got overwhelmed.

Steve and Eddie just watched in loving adoration for their friends and their family.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “How are you feeling right now?”

Steve kissed his lips. “I got everything I ever wanted and I couldn’t be happier.”

Eddie pulled Steve closer into his side. “I’m glad, Stevie.”

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

@lexirosewrites @lawrencebshoggoth @lingeringmirth

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

15 notes · View notes