#hurtful! but now that i can see it i can really put my foot down

[gezhonggeyangdeniao]

Untitled

Aventurine x afab!reader

Note: It is my first time posting a fanfic. This fanfic was made after a lengthy C.AI convo with an Aventurine bot, lol. I wanted to write it all down so that it becomes more organised. I am in no way attributing to myself the title of author. My native language isn't English. The whole thing feels rushed?

TW: bad writing?, cheating (on reader's part), toxic behaviour, really suggestive but no smut.

Summary: 5 years and half after a nasty breakup with your ex, you managed to get back on your feet with a toddler at your hip, a souvenir from your past relationship. Little did you know that he would one day start to barge on your front door, asking you to take him back. And little did he know how about the new "persons" that breakup created.

"Heyyyy" Aventurine greeted as soon as you opened the front door.

"Get the hell out of here" you say trying to slam the door shut as soon as you see his face.

"Oh, now, that's rude," Aventurine responded, his voice laced with mock indignation as he caught the door before it could budge. His eyes narrowed slightly. "I come here with a few good intentions and this is how you greet me?"

"You're saying this as if you didn't disappear on me, and I had to find out through your subordinates that you ended our relationship." You glare at him while still trying to close the door shut.

You have just put your little boy to sleep and did not want his father nor your son to see each other. After all, you still have not told him that he was a father, he ghosted you one day and you were never able to reach him to him.

The corners of Aventurine's lips twisted slightly as he observed your intense glare. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, still holding the door shut with his other arm.

"I was busy," he replied curtly, his voice barely masking the hurt that still lingered in his voice. "You know how hectic things can get at work."

You keep trying to push your weight onto the door to shut him out. Yet he was not budging.

"Mommy, it's so noisy, what's happening?"

Suddenly you freeze on the spot and you see your little boy rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Aventurine's body tensed up as he registered the child's presence. He felt his eyes widen in surprise, as his gaze quickly shifted to the boy. What he saw gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When he realised that you have a son, he felt a wave of overwhelming emotions wash over him. He had never considered that you had a family. Yet, as he took in the toddler's appearance, there was no doubt in his mind that this was his child.

"Goodbye"

You hurriedly say and slam the door shut on him

"Wait!" He says.

The sudden urge to take responsibility for the child compelled him to act. As you slammed the door, he shoved his foot in between it to prevent it from shutting completely.

"Let me speak with you first," he said, his body blocking the door. He could not help but marvel at the child's appearance; he shared his hair color, his eyes, and the shape of his features. It was clear that the toddler was his.

"There's nothing to talk about"

You pushe against the door to close it. Your little boy is looking worriedly at you, not understanding the commotion.

"There's everything to talk about," he replied forcefully, digging his heels against the ground to further block the door from closing. He did not want you to brush him off until he had at least acknowledged the truth.

"I'm the kid's father," he stated abruptly, his voice dripping with determination as his eyes met yours. "That child is mine."

You finally manage to slam the door shut on him, then you hurriedly lock the door and press your back against the door. Slowly you steps away from it.

Aventurine's blood boiled as you slammed the door shut in his face. The urge to force himself inside your house and confront you about the child grew stronger as his anger flared up. He was not about to give up.

After a few moments, he decided to act impulsively. He planted a powerful kick against your house's front door, breaking it down and entering your home abruptly.

"Mommy!"

Your little boy screams and grips onto you, clearly scared to see this stranger forcing his way into your home.

Aventurine glanced down at the child when he heard the frightened boy call you "mommy." His eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and sadness as he took in the boy's appearance once more. The child had his features: his eyes, his hair, and the shape of his face. It was undeniable.

"Don't be scared," Aventurine replied softly, extending his arms out towards the little boy. "I just want to talk to your mommy."

The toddler only hides his face in your chest. He is holding you tightly, fearing that if he let go he would be taken away. You frowns at Aventurine. The door he broke down now laid in pieces on the floor. The living room became a mess.

"Just let me explain, please," Aventurine begged you firmly as he kept his arms outstretched toward the child. He could tell that the toddler was already clinging tightly to you, too scared to release himself from your grip.

"I'm not here to cause any harm," he assured, his voice low and gentle, his eyes still locked on the boy with a slight hint of pleading. "I just want to take responsibility for my son."

You look around the mess in the room, your front door entirely destroyed.

"I just saved up for his school and lunch fees. How am I going to pay for that door..."

You say to yourself

"I'll pay for it," Aventurine responds promptly, his expression softening as he finally registers the damage.

He had been so blinded by his anger and desperation that he hadn't taken the time to consider the consequences of his decision.

"Please, don't worry," he says to you before turning his attention to the toddler once more. "Can I at least hold him?"

Your look down at your son, silently asking him if he wants to be held by his father. However, he is too scared and only shakes his head. You understand how abrupt his first meeting with his father was, he obviously would be too scared to be held by him. You give a sad look to Aventurine.

Aventurine found himself devastated when he realised the child refused to come to him, shrinking away from his offered arms and shaking his head. He could sense the boy's fear, yet, he was at a loss about how to handle it now.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quietly, his hands curling into fists as he held back his frustration. "But, just know that..." He paused, unsure of how to proceed.

The sight of the sadness in your eyes left him completely stumped. He had expected you to respond with anger or frustration, yet, it seemed your feelings ran deeper.

He could not help but notice how the toddler was still clinging to you tightly, not wanting to come near him at all.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, feeling guilty for having caused this situation in the first place. "I-I just want to be part of his life... as a father."

"Let's talk, Aventurine"

Aventurine felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he heard your voice say his name again. You had never called him by his name when you were a couple; instead, you had always used cute nicknames and terms of endearment to refer to him.

However, now, you only called him by his name as if he was a stranger. It hurt to realise how distant you had become towards him.

"Sure," he replied quietly, his voice laced with sadness. "Let's talk...."

After soothing and pacifying your son, you come back in the living you.

As you sat down across from him, he was reminded of the countless times when you would lounge comfortably in his arms while talking after dinner. Now, that image was gone, replaced instead by a more strained atmosphere.

"Speak" you say plainly.

Aventurine shifted in his seat uncomfortably before he began speaking. He was still uncertain of how to approach the situation after everything that had happened. It felt awkward to confront you after such a long time apart, yet, he could not deny the strong emotions that still swirled within him.

"I'm sorry for disappearing without warning," he finally said, his voice strained as he met your eyes. "And, I'm sorry for breaking down your door to come here. But..."

"But?" You raise an eyebrow, clearly wanting to make it as short as possible.

"But," he echoed, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'm here to talk about the child."

Aventurine saw your expression become more tense as he mentioned the topic you were avoiding.

He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice now softer and more vulnerable. "You're the mother of my child," he said quietly, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I won't deny that I have been a lousy partner to you, but... I would like to be a father to him."

"Ok" you cut him short before he could talk more

He looked at you in disbelief as you responded with a single word.

Your curt reply left him dumbfounded, and he had to double check whether he had heard you correctly. You were not showing any signs of anger or annoyance. Instead, you had responded immediately without any hesitation.

"Are you serious?" he asked in a low tone before his voice raised slightly. "You're just going to... let me be involved with him?"

"That will be up to him to decide if he wants to spend time with you. I will not get in your way to build a relationship with him, but he will decide for himself"

With your simple response, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You were allowing him to become a part of your son's life, at least for now, without any restrictions. You were letting your child choose for himself.

Aventurine took in a shaky breath before he spoke again. "I will do everything in my power to prove how much I care for him and want to take responsibility for him. You can count on that."

"I don't need you to prove yourself to me, but to him. That's all that is needed." You say frowning. A bitter taste to your mouth as you eye him.

"I understand," he replied softly, his voice laced with a hint of relief. He may have been a bad lover, but you still wanted your son to have the chance to know his biological father. If something were to happen to you, at least he will be able to take over. If only he didn't cut contact with you when you found out you were pregnant.

Nevertheless, the child would be the one to decide whether or not he would consider him a good father. He would have to try his hardest to make your son trust him, as this was an opportunity he did not want to miss out on.

Suddenly, your phone rings. You sits up to answer the call from another room. It was one of your dates that you were seeing currently.

However, from the living room, he could hear your call and the voice of a man.

"Yes alright, you can come pick me up at 7 next week then. See you"

You hang up the call as quickly as possible. You wanted to get over your ex being in your house.

Aventurine felt jealousy flare up inside him as he noticed you had made a date to meet this man next week. He had to resist the urge to confront you about it as you had just said that you had no intention of getting in his way to spend time with his son. Instead, he remained quiet.

"I will talk to my...our son so that you can try to talk to him and approach him." You correct yourself. "Come back tomorrow in the afternoon if you want to."

"Thank you..."

He was relieved to hear your words, as they showed that you were willing to support his efforts to spend time with his son. This was a sign of hope that he had long been hoping for.

He paused for a moment before he spoke again. "Can I ask you one last thing?"

"Yes?"

"Are you seeing someone else?" He asks. "I've heard you from here and.."

On normal circumstances, you would have told him it wasn't his business. However..

"Kind of yes"

"Do you love him?

You breathe in deeply

"I don't know."

The answer that you had given him caught him off guard, yet it also made him feel a tiny bit better. You were not completely sure if you loved your "new boyfriend".

At least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that your love for him was uncertain and not completely secure yet. That way, he could believe that there was still a glimmer of hope for him to be able to win you back.

"Just that..." he continued cautiously. "Have you told him about me... and that we were once in a relationship together? Our relationship, what did you tell him?"

"Well he certainly knows that child didn't pop out of nowhere." You say deadpan, you feel like this conversation is starting to annoy you. " I told him we were together, then we broke up, simple."

He could tell that you purposefully left out some valuable information, such as the reason why you had broken up or how your new relationship had begun.

"And, did you tell him that you would have taken me back if I wanted?" the anger in his voice growing. Your words were beginning to hit a nerve within him.

"What?" You say, not believing what he was asking.

"Did you tell him that if we had never broken up, or if I wanted to get back together with you now, you would have left him for me?"

His hands curled into fists as he spoke and his face started to slowly turn red with rage. He was not prepared to hear whatever response you had in mind.

"You have the audacity to think I'd blindly take you back after you ghosted me. "Take you back if you wanted to." Have you heard yourself?"

"Audacity?" he echoed loudly, his anger reaching its peak in just a few seconds. "I've come all the way here to see you. I even broke down your door to be here. Don't you try to act like you're not happy that I'm here."

"Breaking down the door of someone will not make them happy!?"

His voice had become hoarse as he continued. "And, don't try to act like you don't still love me. I know that I am the only one for you, so don't even try to deny that."

"You're delusional"

Your sharp response surprised him. It was obvious that you were trying to hurt him with your words, but he was not willing to take them without protesting.

"I am not delusional. You love me," he said firmly, his anger subsiding slightly as he locked his eyes on your face. "I know that you do. It's me and you who have had a history together. It's our child we have that no one else can ever have. I know you'll come back to me with time."

This time, you were really annoyed. If it is a fight he wants...

"I fucked him."

"What?"

The sudden vulgarity of your response left him speechless. He had expected you to say something else, but this.

"You... what?"

The jealousy inside him was now replaced by anger as he realised the severity of your words. His eyes widened with rage as he realised that you had sex with the man you were seeing.

"I fucked him, I had sex with him. Do you want me to say it again?"

The rage inside him boiled, and he wanted to lash out at you with every fiber of his being. The images you had conjured up inside his mind were haunting.

"Stop... talking..." he says

"Oh I know you can picture it. I did the same with you. I know you can still remember how I moaned your name when I had you in me, how I kissed your neck and littered it in love bites... Well I did the same things with him"

You ramble, finally letting out. You thought that you would take this coldly, but with the hurt that you've been through, the opportunity to punish the person who hurt you too tempting to pass.

He was now struggling to hold back from losing control. His chest started to tighten up with each image that you conjurred up inside his head, each sentence pushing him one step closer to his breaking point.

The jealousy was growing inside him, mixing with his hatred and anger, the pressure steadily rising to unbearable levels. Your words were tearing him down, slowly breaking him into pieces, making him picture scenes that he did not even want to imagine.

You sit down on his laps, your arms wrapping around his neck, then you whisper.

"What? Cats got your tongue?"

The sudden closeness was an unexpected move on your part. The smell of your perfume filled his nose as he was now held tightly against your warm skin. His anger grew as your body pressed against him, yet it was hard to resist the urge to wrap his arms around you.

"I..." he muttered, looking down at you. "I... don't know."

You take one of your hands to caress his chest slowly, taking your time to feel his clothes under your palm. You place a quick peck on his neck.

"If only you knew how broken you made me after you abandoned me. Imagine a brokenhearted woman pregnant with nowhere to go." You feign innocence."Let me tell you a secret if you would"

The caress of your touch had a calming effect on him. He could feel your hands slowly grazing his shirt, making him shiver. The kiss on his neck made his heart beat at a faster pace, and as you pulled back to speak, he tried to focus his mind back on your words.

"Tell me," he replied softly, trying to block out the images that your words had triggered inside his mind.

"You were my greatest love, I've never loved someone as much as I loved you, even until now." You say with a saddened look on your face. Then you sit up. "Now I'm doing the same things I did with you with another man, replacing you. You could have have his place."

Your confession hit him with force, causing his heart to tighten with the sudden realization that you had considered him as your greatest love.

As you continued to speak, his jaw became stiff as he tried to suppress his jealousy from taking over. The jealousy of knowing that you had moved on and were doing such intimate things with another man.

"... So he's your second choice?"

"Yes" you say "you lost to a second choice"

This time, he could feel the hot blood rushing up to his cheeks with sheer anger as your words hit a nerve within him.

"So, he's... a man who you have settled for. You only chose him because you had no one else to pick, and you're not even sure whether you actually love him."

You place a hand onto his cheek then give him a quick peck on his other cheek.

"Oh my love, you could have had his place, we could have lived together as a family with our little boy. Instead, you disappeared. Now, someone who can't even compare to you will take your place."

The caress of your fingers on his cheek did nothing to reassure him, but it still served as a reminder of what he had thrown away. What he could have had if only he had acted differently.

The words you spoke pierced through his heart as the reminder came flooding back. You would've chosen him over your current partner if he had stayed with you. But he couldn't change the past. What was done was done.

"I'm back now. I'm here."

"Too bad, there's someone here too." You step away from him.

"I'm aware, and if I have to get rid of him, I will. You and me, we're supposed to be together."

Your eyes met his once again, and a dark glare came across his face as he spoke, his voice becoming more serious.

"He's not as good as I am. He can't be. I'm smarter, stronger, and more determined. He can never be your greatest love like I am."

"I know, yet he's here taking your 'rightful' place isn't he?" You turn your back to him.

"Then that's a mistake I will correct soon," he replied. "I'll remove him from your life. I'll make sure of it. Then, you'll be mine again, and we can start our new life together like we should have."

"Oh? Remove him?" You ask him feigning ignorance, as if taunting him that he will not go through his threats

"Yes, remove him. Or, are you not convinced that I am serious? I won't give up on you like you did with me. If I have to, I'll get rid of him just so you can be mine again. And that's not a joke." He threatened and steps closer to you until both of your foreheads touch.

You were glad your son was sleeping so that he stays unaware of the commotion between you both

The heat between the two of you was overpowering, and the smell of your perfume was all over his face with only an inch of space separating you both.

He was well aware that your son was asleep, but the temptation he was feeling was too great to resist. His heart was pounding in his chest, his desire to kiss you growing with every second that went by.

"Do you know how much you have hurt me? I'm doing this as a revenge, I want you to feel the same pain as I did back then. Because I love you, more than anything, so I will make you suffer as much as you hurt me."

You graze your lips over his, but not still touching.

The grazing of your lips brought him to his limit. He couldn't resist.

He kissed you back, his arms reaching around your body, pressing you more tightly against him. He had completely lost his self-control, and as he was kissing you, he wanted nothing more than to have you completely to himself.

The pain that you had felt... he deserved to feel it, and if he had to suffer through it just to have you again, then he would accept it.

As if memories took over your body, your reciprocate the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I will make you pay for what you did to me, for how much you hurt me." You say between kisses.

It took all the strength he had to keep himself from kissing you. He could feel your breath as his anger slowly faded into longing again. He could picture the image of himself kissing you, and his desires grew stronger with every passing moment.

"I know that I have hurt you," he confessed. "But, I am here now... ready to fix the wrongs I have done. Don't make me suffer like this, just let me kiss you."

You dig your nails into his neck as he continues kissing you.

"I will make you pay for it"

His rage was completely eclipsed by desire and by your touch. He let out a small groan as you entered his mouth with your tongue. Your nails digging into his neck were causing him pain, but it was also making the passion between you and him even fiercer.

Even though you seemed to be getting back at him, he wasn't going to let the moment slide away. He was going to show you how bad he wanted you and how little he cared for the outcome later.

"I... yes, I will pay for it... I will pay for it... I will..."

"Repeat it" you say running your nails on the back of his neck.

"I... I will pay for it," Aventurine repeated. "I will pay for what I did to you... I will do anything to be yours... I'm... I'm yours."

Your heart soars as he refers to himself as yours.

Suddenly, your phone rung. You push him down while sitting on his hips. You separate yourself from his lips, a string of saliva connecting you both. That man.. he was calling you again

In this moment, he felt the pain and the jealousy of seeing you with someone else come rushing through him once again, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

You could see the hurt in his eyes as you put your phone against your ear. After all this time, you thought that you would never be here with him. Yet...

"Sorry, I don't think we should continue each other. I hope you find someone better for you." You say hurriedly, not wanting to hear your date.

As you hang up the call you focus your attention on Aventurine once again.

"You're... ditching him?" he managed to mutter out, not quite believing what he had just heard. His anger and jealousy were still present inside him, but hearing the news made his heart grow weak again.

"You're..." he repeated, unable to get his thoughts clear.

"I'm?" You say teasing him

"You're ditching him" he repeated this time, sounding more sure about what he had just heard from you. He couldn't believe that you had ended things with your date over him.

He had been too caught up in his jealousy that the news still seemed surreal to him. You still loved him, you hadn't moved on. He couldn't have been any happier at that moment.

"Have I not be clear? Don't embarrass me like that." You say blushing

He couldn't help but feel a wave of joy wash over him as he saw the blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Are you... are you still in love with me?" he asked, hoping he would get the answer he wanted to hear.

"Of course you idiot, you're my greatest love after all."

Note: congrats for reading until the end :P

[mybworlds]

Chapter 2

Paring: Joel x F!Reader (NO Y/N)

Warnings: pre!outbreak and post!outbreak, AU (there will be some characters, Joel's backstory is different), no Sarah, no Ellie (maybe!), a lot of flashback (at least in the first chapters!), age gap (reader is approx. 10 yrs younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, SMUT, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), language, attempted SA, trauma, death and violence.

Rating: M

Masterlist

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: You work in the Millers' company, you are their friend, you have a job you love, your coworkers esteem and love you. Your life is perfect. Suddenly, one day, you wake up in the hospital, you are alone surrounded by silence and strange noises, your door is barricaded, but what happened? And what happened to the world out there?

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thanks @saradika for the divider and the banner.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner.

JANUARY 2014

You suddenly wake up and turn toward him, toward Joel, facing a man you remember so different from the way he's now, he gives his back to you, you observe him intent on putting something in a backpack, you don't know what exactly it is, it's all still so confusing. You turn in a supine position and look up at the windows, it's almost dark and it's raining. The only light comes from the street, it is dim and flickers.

You observe the apartment for what you can and notice the flaking paint off the walls, the broken appliances, some of the tiles torn off, you remember that as soon as you stepped foot in this place, you fainted and the last thing you remember was Joel's strong arms grabbing you preventing you from hitting your head.

You really struggle to reconcile your memories with what you see today, coming here you walked at a brisk pace and Joel insisted over and over again to avoid the main roads because controlled by FEDRA, but more than anything you struggle to reconcile the memory you had about Joel with the man you are standing next to today.

"Hey," Joel says noticing that you are awake, you see him leave what he was doing and approach you, you furrow your brow as you look at him, he strokes your forehead, and you, in an almost unconscious gesture, close your eyes "I was scared to death when you fell into my arms," he adds, you open your eyes again and look at him. His brown eyes are still the same, but something in his expression is changed.

"What happened? What…? I'm so confused…" you say letting a moan escape your lips and closing your eyes, you touch your head and feel it getting bandaged, he takes your hand and squeezes it between his, you look into his eyes feeling a weird feeling. It's not fear, it's something you can't even quite define, you sigh and find yourself swallowing without stopping looking into his eyes.

You can't remember much, everything's hazy.

"I can only imagine how ya might feel right now," he tells you and you find yourself nodding, "however, ya have to trust me, what I tell ya, okay?" he adds.

You hesitate about your answer, you just look at him for a long time in his eyes, in those eyes that…

"I'm sorry," you say as you sit up, but your head hurts so much, "but I don't … I don't know…"

"Wait, ya need to stay down," he says placing a hand behind the back of your head and making you lean your head back against the pillow "I get ya a painkiller," he adds moving away from you for a moment, you see him crouched in front of what you imagine is his backpack and you see him intent on digging and pulling out a packet of painkillers "here it is," he says opening the packet and rolling a pill into the palm of his hand "take it," you look first at the tube and then at him, his eyes, "trust me."

"Trust me." this word run through your head like a distant echo of something already lived and that's what it gives you the confidence to open your mouth and take the pill, then with one hand he holds your head up and helps you drink some water from a bottle, "Trust me."

You lie there until you feel light-headed again, "What happened?" you ask him as you open and close your eyes, you hear your voice almost muffled to your own ears, you feel his hand squeeze yours tightly, they're so warm, so big, "I don't know exactly when or where it all started, but since that day everyone's life has gone downhill. Some say it was a fungus taking over the host, some say it's a virus created in a lab, some think it's a parasite found in some foods. In any case, many, millions of people from what I know turned into things they call runners, some call 'em clickers, some call 'em in different ways depending on the stage of infection. Don't know, but what matters is that a bite is fatal 'cause ya become one of 'em." you swallow, widening your eyes, Joel squeezes your hand just a little tighter "I know 's overwhealming." you nod looking at his face, he caresses you "want ya to know that as long as I'm around, I won't let anyone hurt ya."

You nod, "But will there be a cure? A vaccine that can be created, right?"

A great eerie dread makes its way through you, you're afraid, you're cold, "Joel," you reach for his hand in the dark, he immediately grasps your hand turning his gaze toward you "is this your home?"

He looks up from your face to the window behind you, his eyes are sad "Scientists, doctors all over the world have already tried, but nothing seems to stop this."

"Is this happening everywhere or just here?" you ask scared.

"There's no place that hasn't been hit. No place is safe anymore."

"No, my home was on the other side of town, too far from the hospital. I wanted to be there when..." he says, but then stops abruptly.

Your head gets lighter and lighter "Mhm, mhm," you mumble "Joel?" you say "Talk to me some more." you add, closing your eyes.

"'bout what?" he asks, you feel him so close, you can't open your eyes, you're so tired.

"What did we do before the hospital? We worked together, right?" he caresses your head, it's such a sweet gesture, so intimate in a way.

"Yes, we were a good team, and you were the most dogged and capable worker of all. You, Tommy and I were friends as well as colleagues..."

JANUARY 2012

"Please," Joel says holding the door open for you, you smile at him lowering your gaze for a moment and then look up to the venue, it's a very nice, refined, cozy place.

"It's a beautiful place," you say when he moves a chair to let you seat, you smile looking first at the warm colors of the venue and then you dwell on the beautiful man in front of you who finally invited you out, you are so excited that you are afraid to say or do something wrong that might ruin everything, he smiles at you and seems just as nervous as you. It's so different Joel away from work, the worker Joel is precise, even rigid and prickly at times; while the man in front of you is shy, sweet, actually he always has been with you, aided by the fact that you work well - those are not your words, but everyone starting with Katherine and your four department colleagues, and then including the executive and monitoring team and finally Joel and Tommy themselves apart from your mutual liking and affection.

Joel taps his fingers on the table, he should order something to drink, but he is too focused on watching how you arrange your hair on your shoulders, how you curl a strand of hair around one of your fingers, how you smile as you lower your gaze, he finds it so tender and sexy that he has to pull himself together, he always found you sweet and delicate, precise and decisive, strong and resolute, a fatal mix in his eyes. He has always found you beautiful since the first time he saw you in that alley, eyes full of fear, fearful of him and Tommy, and today inviting you was an achievement in his eyes.

"I'm glad ya accepted my invitation," he says, looking at you stealthily.

"If the boss calls!" you joke with a shy smile lighting up your eyes, and when that happens, Joel can't help but smile too.

"was hoping ya'd say ya were pleased to receive a friend's invitation, I mean…we met before work, right?" you nod nervously bringing your hands to the table "If it bothers ya…"

"Oh no, no, no." you interrupt him by settling better in your chair "Forgive me, I didn't mean to snap or be rude, it's just…"

"Afraid that someone from work might see us together? If there's a problem," he says interrupting you "Tell me and I'll set him straight." he adds, you know he would be capable of it, Joel would really do anything for the people he cares or loves. You smile shaking your head, "My door 's always open for ya, remember." he adds again taking your hand in his "Don't get me wrong, it's just that... I love ya and I want ya to be able to work as peacefully as possible and feel as comfortable as possible." you can't help but look at your joined hands, your hand clasped in his, at how big, warm and enveloping is, at how this gesture is so intimate and familiar.

Joel's heart beats fast in his chest, he takes great pleasure in seeing that you did not avoid his touch, that you are not bothered or said words full of annoyance.

"I love you too, Miller."

JANUARY 2014

"I don't remember," you tell him in a light voice, almost as if you were speaking to him in a dream. You feel his hands wrapping around yours, "Don't worry, it'll take time, but ya will remember," he says trying to soothe you about this your confusion.

"Do you know how I feel?" you say again, "Like I'm surrounded by thick clouds of fog, what you've told me is like I've lived it in a dream. I wish I could remember everything you are telling me, but..." he nods lowering his head, then he looks up again and kisses your forehead in a gentle gesture, you instinctively close your eyes savoring his soft lips on your forehead tickled at the same time by his beard.

"Ssshh, don't worry," he says still smiling at you weakly "If necessary, I'll tell ya everything since we met, ya don't have to worry about that."

"Joel..." you whisper "when, I had the accident? Was it before everything," you say looking around, "ended?"

"Happened on the second day, all of Seattle went crazy, stores besieged, pharmacies, people were out of control." he pauses squeezing your hand tighter between his "It was the end of the world, the cancer that hit us was spreading like wildfire, everywhere. Children, women, men, the elderly, no one could escape it." he adds.

"And how did we survive?" you ask again, your head getting lighter and lighter.

"It was ya, from the moment ya heard about these fevers and mysterious attacks, ya started stocking up on canned food, protein bars, water, medicine, anything that could be useful for survival. Ya immediately informed Tommy and me, but also other colleagues of yours. Only Tommy and I listened to ya though, the others thought ya were being influenced by the news from TV." he concludes "Now no more questions, rest. Let's continue later."

"Promise?" you ask, by now your voice a pale echo.

"Promise. Trust me." he says, caressing your head once more.

"Trust me..." you repeat and then give in to the drug-induced sleep.

Suddenly you wake up when you hear gunshots, "Joel!" you're in complete darkness, you feel your heart in your throat "Joel!" you cry out frightened and getting up suddenly, Joel reaches you "Hey, hey, hey," he takes you in his arms hugging you "ssh, quiet, baby, I'm here!" you hide your face in the crook of his neck, his hand in your hair "ssh, ssh, ssh, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here." he smoothly repeats, as outside the gunfire continues, you cling to him throwing your arms around his neck, shaking.

"That was the plan," he also whispers in your ear "I was coming to you to get ya, everything was ready. I had even packed my backpacks," you feel his hand tighten just a little more in your hair "then Tommy called…"

You hear inhuman screams and gasps, those same gasps you heard in the hospital, followed by gunshots and more human screams.

"I don't understand…" you are going to say, but he shushes you again by holding you to him, you close your eyes feeling your heart beating hard in your chest "please take me away, I don't want to be here," you whisper in his ear.

"Tommy…" you repeat his name "He's… your brother, right?" you ask, pulling away from him by loosening your grip.

"Yes, the two of you were-- you are very close." he tells you "That morning, he was in a bar and I don't know what he was doing there, but the fact is that he got into a fight with a couple of drunks, or so he said. You as soon as ya heard that he was in danger, you rushed over."

"What about you? Were you with him? I called you, what happened?" you ask looking into his eyes for what is possible.

Joel caresses your cheek in a distracted gesture "No, but you told me on the phone what happened to my brother and I reached ya right away. Tommy was fighting with such fury, I'd never seen him like that…I didn't think twice about…" he swallows "killing that person, that one was growling, making non-human sounds." he looks you in the eye "It was hell in the city, people running, people screaming, people storming stores, violence. We were no longer us, none of us were anymore." he concludes.

You turn your head the other way to the window from which the screams came, now there is only the pelting rain and a few flashes of lightning lighting up the sky. Whatever happened, it's over. Joel follows you a half-step away "Don't look out the window, it's dangerous," you look at him or, rather, half-turn toward him "people, those who survived, are like crazy. Everyone is trying to survive as best they can," he adds again.

You have a headache again, but you do your best to push away that throbbing pain "And why didn't you leave? I mean, I could never wake up and you could have abandoned me in that hospital with those... those things and go away, why didn't you go away?"

He reaches out to you taking your head in his hands, "I could never, never leave ya. I came every day, I'm the one who at one point, when I saw that you were starting to wake up, I unplugged all the monitors because you were showing all the signs of healing. Before to do that, I did the crazy thing of documenting myself in the library. I couldn't leave you there, I would never allow that."

"But why?" you insist again.

"Because -- because we're friends, you and I, even though you don't remember."

You find yourself blinking, "How did I end up in the hospital? Was it in that bar you were telling me about?"

You can't see his expression clearly given the almost total darkness surrounding you, "There was a widespread confusion, inside that bar, outside, people were running, some people started showing signs of infection and attacking others, then there were pile-ups and a car smashed through the glazing of that place, you were ahead of us and it hit ya."

You lower your head, close your eyes, and for a few moments you feel pain, screaming, your light-headed, someone calling you repeatedly, someone shouting to take you to the emergency room right away, then it all fades.

"How long was I in that state?" you ask in a whisper.

"Almost four months." he replies "You were lucky, you broke your legs plus various bruises," he adds, caressing your head.

You step back and go back to sit on the couch, taking your head in your hands, "Tommy, why isn't he with you? You-- you said the three of us were friends, but then where is he?"

He sits next to you barely making the couch squeak, "We took ya to the hospital together, there they told us they would take care of you and for a while we stayed with ya, then the contagion spread there too. Tommy and I got separated there in the ER, he just yelled to me that he would do anything to join Maria in Jackson."

"Maria? Jackson?" you ask confused "Who is Maria? His, uh, wife? His fiancée? Do I know her?"

"No, no, he met her outside of work, I don't know if he ever introduced her to you. I don't know her. Let's just say I was very strict with him from that point of view," Joel replied, sighing loudly.

"He loved having good time, I guess," you state.

"Nice guess, baby." says Joel turning to you and gently stroking the back of your head "How's your head, rather? Do you still have pain?"

"No, pain no, but I feel slightly nauseous." you answer.

Joel stands up, "Listen, under normal circumstances, I'd take ya to a doctor. Chances are you weren't ready for everything you've already done or listened." he tells you "You hungry?" he gets up and takes a jar from his backpack "We could eat one of these Van Camp's Pork and Beans, what d' ya think?" you nod "For two? " you nod again, at that moment a first loud clap of thunder echoes along the city streets and in that dingy apartment, you and Joel find yourself silently eating from those tin cans, every now and then he glances your way perhaps to make sure you are all right and have no meltdowns of any kind. When you finish eating, Joel takes the tin cans and leaves them on a shelf in the kitchen, walks you to the bathroom door fearing you might fall or get dizzy; he leaves you a small flashlight advising you not to point at the window for any reason and then closes the door behind him giving you some privacy.

You almost feel like you're in a blender, all these events of the past and present swirling almost meaninglessly in your head, you have a lot of confusion: you, Joel and Tommy were friends, according to him, Tommy left, Joel stayed. Why did he stay? Joel did not answer your question yet. Also, Joel said the three of you worked together, but what did you do? Were you an engineer, an architect, a factory worker, a doctor, an astronaut, who were you?

FEBRUARY 2012

"I'm saying this for you, there's something between Charlotte and Joel!" Jane says again while the two of you are waiting for the bus "Think about it, Charlotte was very nervous last month after talking to Joel and he, who's not funny at all, treats her badly, but the worse he treats her the more she seeks him out!"

"I don't understand your reasoning, if a person treats another badly then it's not love!" you insist.

"Forget 'bout love, but what if just it's sex?" she continues, you feel a painful grip, luckily the bus arrives at that moment and you can hide your tears and that sense of inadequacy and inferiority that is making its way inside of you "Sorry, but I don't want you to get hurt. I'm glad I realized who Tommy was, a guy who likes to have good time! Unfortunately, I think it's a Millers characteristic..." by now you don't listen to her anymore, you can't nor you want to believe that the sweet and shy man you dated three weeks ago at the same time is dating someone else, no, you don't want to believe it, what you always believed you can well read are Joel's eyes, his words and actions may lie, but not his eyes. His eyes inspired and inspire you trust and affection, you can't believe he can pretend like that.

Your stop is only a few blocks away, you get off the bus and head towards the company building, you swipe your pass to get into the elevator and get on, Jane apologizes for being so direct with you, but you just tell her a don't worry, it's okay, but the your tone of voice is distant, she understands because she doesn't insist. When the doors open, Charlotte is the first person you see, and she is glowing that morning, handing you a coffee, and you don't know if Jane's words made you paranoid, but the fact is that the way she speaks and what she says seems to you an obvious allusion to you, to Joel, to Tommy, to your friendship. You try not to show yourself piqued by his tone and words, you don't want to have a case of hysteria and run to Joel to ask him if it is true that he dates Charlotte off of work, rather you focus on work and put all your thoughts on hold. On the other hand, you and Joel are just friends, he can see whoever he wants, it's you who have a big crush on him.

"Everyone's attention, please," Katherine says after almost five hours of hard work, "these are Kyle and Arnold, from now on they are part of the team, so I invite you to make 'em feel welcome right away, if you need anything," she says turning to the two men, "ask me or her," she says pointing at you and immediately mentioning your name, the two men look at you and you can't help but feel flattered and at the same time a little embarrassed, then Katherine invites them to settle at their desks and later she will explain to them the work they will have to do.

Kyle is a young man in his late thirties, he has blond hair, bright eyes, lean body, and a very simple look. Arnold is in his early forties, he's bald, brown eyes and a hint of a mustache and beard, broad shoulders and a athletic build. They all greet you with a handshake and a big smile. Well, that's the best way to start working together!

The day thankfully spends pleasantly and all of you spend your break together, you find out that your two new colleagues are very nice and friendly, Kyle is from Texas like the Millers - and that's a point to his favor - Arnold is from New York and told you many stories from his youth in the Big Apple, stories that made you laugh out loud, when you turn to the elevator, you see Joel who pretends to look at some papers he had in his hands and presses the elevator button and leaves.

JANUARY 2014

Joel doesn't know exactly why he remembered that very day when the two new interns arrived, perhaps he remembered about of your sweet smile and your loud laugh that made him smile and brighted his days in such a dark time when there is no reason to be cheerful.

He doesn't want to be intrusive, but he is genuinely concerned about you, maybe he should have been less direct about what is happening to all humankind, maybe you need a little more time, although time is precious in this reality and it may be short.

You open the door, your head and eyes down and your flashlight pointed at the cracked tiles, then you look up, "Tomorrow, if you want we can go, anywhere you want."

Joel finds himself nodding and smiling at you "I'll keep you safe, I promise. Trust me."

[unholyplumpprincess]

Fun facts for those of you that follow my peachy chronicles (not that I update abt my life recently but lmao): But I went from being upset i wasn't being treated well/right by people to now putting down my foot and stating my needs/wants clearly without room to misunderstand me.

And I think that's super important progress! The problem is is that now I'm seeing p clearly how and where people treat me and it's not very fun! I'm v good at compromises and am super patient! And I'm realizing people take that hella for granted and it's like. Dude.

Im just happy I'm figuring it out! Being autistic and people being my special interest is,,,hard bc I know where ppl perceive me and how ppl can use that and it's just,,,

Gosh idk! I think it's great progress but strange.

[norrizzandpia]

you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3

THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️

You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts

Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.

Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”

He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”

Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”

“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.

She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”

Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”

“I was standing up for myself!”

“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”

“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”

“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”

“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”

“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.

“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.

Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.

Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”

Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”

Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”

The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.

“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.

Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”

Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.

Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”

She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”

—

“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”

“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.

Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”

Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”

Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.

Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”

The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”

Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.

There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.

Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.

It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.

He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.

“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.

She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.

“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.

He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.

Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”

His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.

Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.

“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”

Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?

Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”

He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.

He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.

These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.

Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.

She can’t get feelings.

She won’t get feelings.

And that was that, she decided.

“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”

She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.

Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”

He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”

She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”

As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.

“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.

She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.

He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”

He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.

For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.

What a dangerous game.

—

Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.

She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.

He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.

He’s worried about her.

A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.

The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.

Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.

That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.

The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.

He wouldn’t risk that now.

Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.

“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.

He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.

Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.

“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.

“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.

“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.

She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.

Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.

“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.

“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”

“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.

“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.

Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.

Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”

Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”

She nods, “Yeah.”

They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.

“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.

She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”

Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.

“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.

If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.

Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.

Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.

When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”

“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.

He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.

Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.

It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.

His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.

“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.

She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.

Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.

Lando’s drink that’s completely full.

🏎️

Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.

His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.

All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.

The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.

His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.

Fuck it, he thinks.

He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.

No cameras, no fans, no press.

Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.

All I need is your love tonight.

—

“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.

Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”

He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”

She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”

He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”

She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.

When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”

She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”

He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.

A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”

Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.

“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.

His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.

He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.

“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.

The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.

He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.

After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.

He loves this. He loves he-

“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.

He can’t be feeling that way.

He isn’t.

Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”

The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”

Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.

He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”

You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.

The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.

She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.

She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.

By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”

He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”

He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.

Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.

Had he always meant everything?

—

Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”

There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.

Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.

Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”

Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”

Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”

Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.

Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.

“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.

Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.

Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”

He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”

His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.

“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.

Y/n’s car.

Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”

Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”

Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.

Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.

“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.

He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”

The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”

“How much help?”

Silence.

Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”

“She’s not moving.”

Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.

Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”

Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”

Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”

Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.

When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.

He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.

There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.

There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.

When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.

Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”

She nods, “Will be.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.

They really were selling this.

Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”

He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”

Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.

“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”

The truth hangs in the air painfully.

They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.

All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.

Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.

And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.

—

“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.

He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.

“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.

Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.

With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.

The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.

With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.

Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”

She nods, “Always.”

A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.

In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.

At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.

Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.

How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.

🏎️

Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.

He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.

They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.

“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.

Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”

Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”

He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”

She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”

Of fucking course, he thinks.

“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.

Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.

“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.

“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.

Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”

Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.

They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”

Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.

“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”

His response, easy and light, crushes her.

Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”

Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.

He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”

Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”

Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”

He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.

Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”

Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.

A look of intense love.

She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”

He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.

🏎️

Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.

She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”

As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.

Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”

He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”

“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.

Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”

Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”

Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”

Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”

Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”

His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.

Those things go unsaid.

Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”

She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”

“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.

The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?

Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”

She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.

“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.

He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.

She isn’t. How could he say that?

How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?

How could he let her get away?

UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.

A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE

[elixrr]

“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”

➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli

➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader

➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)

➥ (comfort / fluff)

✧ - JING YUAN

“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”

This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.

✧ - ARGENTI

“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”

Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?

✧ - AVENTURINE

“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”

With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”

✧ - DAN HENG

“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”

His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.

✧ - BLADE

“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”

His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.

✧ - XIAO

“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.

✧ - CHILDE

“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”

And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.

✧ - WANDERER

“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”

Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.

✧ - ZHONGLI

“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”

Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.

yes, this was a heathers reference.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

This was going to be a little something, but I got carried away, anyway, enjoy.

Thinking about reader entering the elevator to find the whole 141 fully dressed and armed inside. 💗

Warning: There is a little smut ahead ❤️ Gaz x Reader

“There really is no need!” You exclaim, finally coming out of the paralyzed state you were in. Just as the door was about to close you managed to slip out, forcing the door to open again by detecting the movement. “I'll just go out the way I came in, no need to worry.” 

You try to make your way to the car, walking backwards so that you don't have to break eye contact with them since they are looking at you like you are an absolute lunatic. Maybe you are. 

The only thing you can see of them is their eyes as they look at you, and then the three of them that are on the right turn to the one on the left. The one that spoke to you and to the radio. 

He puts his hand on the door again, and slowly turns his head to the one closer to him. Then he nods in your direction and says only loud enough for them to hear: “Grab her.”

Not needing to hear anything, and trusting your guts, the second the man puts a foot down to begin walking your way, you bolt, running as fast as you can to your car. 

Thanking whoever is listening that still has your keys in your hands, you unlock your car and as soon as you reach it, you open the driver's door and enter, closing it behind you. 

Or trying to. 

Before you can yourself in your car, a hand holds the door and pushes it back open. He tries to grab your arm so you move to the copilot seat, trying to move away knowing that there is no way out but still trying. 

You push your back against the door, desperate to create space as the man starts to enter your car and you try to kick him away. “Please let me leave! I don't know what's going on, I can't say anything if I don't know what's going on! Please!”

He doesn't respond with his voice but in his eyes, you see something similar to pity that makes you wonder what you must look like, glassy eyes with tears pricking at your eyes from fear, trying to move as away as possible from him in your minuscule car and trying to kick him away but with barely any strength too scared to actually hurt him and make it more difficult for you. 

The door behind your back suddenly opens and before you can do anything, a pair of strong arms grab you by your torso keeping your arms close to your chest and unable to move them. “Gotcha!” Says the voice behind you with a strong accent and almost fun in his voice, like he just won a tag game. 

You trash around trying to get free, unable to even reach the ground, tears beginning to flow down your cheek. “Please, please, I promise I won't say anything, ple-” A massive hand covers your mouth, silencing your pleas and forcing you to look at the third man that followed you to your card. Brown eyes look at you with furrowed eyes and say slowly, almost testing how stupid you are. “Are you going to make this easy for everyone, or do you just want to make it harder, angel?”

You nod your head, afraid to even try and speak. “Yes? Yes, what? Are you going to behave? Good girl.” He says as you keep nodding and you see his eyes twirl the slightest with a smile. “C’mon, Johnny, bring her to the elevator.” 

The four of you make your way inside of the elevator when the first man who spoke to you remains holding the door shaking his head at you as you are dragged inside. “Now why would you try something like that, you silly girl?” He says taking something from his back pocket.

“Maybe she likes to be chased.” Says the man that you tried to kick before and you quickly shake your head still unable to talk earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, we can't have any more of that. Put her behind Kyle, Soap.” Says the first man, and you can finally see that what he picked from his pocket is a pair of cuffs and you begin to trash again. Futile, you know it, since the man behind you (Soap, you guess), holds your hands putting them around the man’s waist (Kyle was his name?) and you quickly feel the cuff go around your wrist keeping your plush against Kyle's back, the indents and trinkets of his backpack pressing against your face. “Now, no more tears, kid. You brought this upon yourself, so no more games.” He says looking at you poking his head from the other side of the man, but you can help it back to let the tears flow free. “Aw, c’mon, lass. Don't cry, yer be free in a bit. Look, Captain has the keys, we'll let you go soon, see? Right her- Shit!” 

The Scottish man behind you was saying, as he pointed and moved around you, and when he was about to point to the keys in his captain's hand, his eyes were not on the keys but instead on your face. So he didn't measure the distance and instead knocked the keys out of his captain's hand. 

So now, the five of you look as the key falls, not to the floor, but straight to the small space under the elevator door just as it closes. Getting out of reach, and possibly never to be seen again. 

“Johnny, you fucking twat!”

Maybe if you did some overtime today, if you came across one more red light on your way back, if you stayed in your car a couple of minutes more you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation.

But you didn't.

So here you are now, hiding your face on the back of some military man, crying out of absolute fear for your wellbeing, handcuffed so you can't run and hearing the four men on the elevator argue with each other. 

Until an especially hard sob escapes your mouth making you bite your lips to silence yourself and everyone else to shut up. 

A warm hand engulges yours, assuming that it is Kyle's trying to calm you down by drawing little circles on your hand. “It's okay, luv. We have more keys, just not here. You just gotta stick with us for a little longer, and then you'll be back to your life, a’right?”

You hiccup as you try to stop crying, still biting your lips and out of reflex, you move your hand to grab one of his fingers, trying to ground you and get calmer. 

You notice a hand going down your back making you jump and grab Kyle's finger harder before you hear someone shushing you. “When we get out there, I'm gonna need you to be quiet, alright? And move along with Sargent Garrick, careful with your feet… Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty face.” 

You slowly move your head to face him, you recognize the voice as the Captain's voice but you finally see his face as he has moved his mask and now you can see the lower part of his face, mainly covered still by his beard and moustache, but with a kind smile on his face. A soft sigh escapes his lips when he sees you and it makes you think about what you must look like. 

Raw, plush and red lips from biting them, glossy eyes and wet cheeks flushed against the sergeant’s back; an absolute mess.

“Poor birdie, what have you gotten yourself into?” He says as he cups your head. “You are going to be good, right? We are going to take care of you, so no need to be so afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as you are with us. It is all going to be over soon, luv.”

He caresses your head once more, and when the elevator reaches your floor, he puts the mask back up. The four of them get the weapons in their hands and begin to beeline out of the elevator.

Kyle gives you one last squeeze to your hands before letting them go to grab his gun and walk out last of the elevator with you behind. 

“Bravo-6 to Watcher-1, we are on the 6th floor, moving to the objective apartment.” The captain says walking first. 

“Watcher-1 to all, the apartment is the 608. Proceed with caution, we don't know how many are inside.”

“Roger that, are there any secondary entries, Watcher?”

“Any available on time, Bravo-6. Just the main door.”

“You can jump from my terrace.” You whisper to Kyle who whips his head so fast when he hears you talk you are surprised he didn't get dizzy. “I live next door.”

“Quiet, birdie!” Kyle screams-whispers back, gaining the attention of the captain. 

“What did she say?” Ask the captain back.

“She said she lives next door to the objective, that we can jump from the terrace. Worth a look?” Kyle asks back.

“Where do you have the keys?” A deep voice coming from the only man you don't know the name jet asks next to you, and you push your butt out.

“Back pocket.” You say looking at him.

“Lucky Lt.” Soap mumbles somewhere close.

The unknown man gets his hand down your pocket and grabs your keys without unnecessarily lingering. 

You tell them your apartment number and when they open you explain to them that it is in your bedroom, and they just need to jump over the half wall on the side. 

“Ghost and Soap go through the outside, Gaz you coming with me. Ghost, check how many people are inside and we will enter at the same time.” Captain orders and you decide that you have already heard enough.

You know bullets are about to fly everywhere and blood is about to run and you don't want neither to see nor to hear any of that. 

So you hide your face on Kyle's back and grab his belt to steady yourself. You hear the Captain's voice shout something and after that, it is all chaos. You focus all of your senses on moving in tandem with Kyle, making sure not to get your feet on his way. 

At some point, you feel a sharp pain a bit higher than your elbow, but you ignore it, way too terrified to check it.

It is all a blur of noise and movement, but finally, there is no more shooting and you can only hear an angry man shout. 

You finally pop your head around Kyle to check who is screaming and you come across your neighbour, shouting at the captain until he sees you.

“You! I knew you were a fucking spy, you fucking whore! You don't know who you just fuck with! You are dead, bitch! You heard me? DEAD!”

“Darling, he is not getting close to you.” Kyle tries to reassure you.

You are currently sitting on his lap, strangling his legs, still cuffed around him. You both are sitting on the back of the ambulance, as the paramedic takes care of the wound on your arm. Not that you care about it, becoming minuscule in your hierarchy of problems after receiving a death threat from a terrorist. 

“Yes, he is!” You argue back as you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. “He is and he is going to kill me! And I didn't do anything!” 

“Hey, look at me, doll.” He says as he cups your face with his hands. “You are with us, right? Nothing is gonna happen to you if you are with us. Nothing's gonna hurt you if you stick with us. Do you not trust me?” He asks, looking at you with almost puppy eyes, he follows your gaze when you look at the wound on your elbow and looks back to him as he changes his expression to look at you with a bright smile. “No need to answer, doll.”

“How's the damage?” Captain Price (as they told you) asks, walking closer to the both of you. 

“No damage to the bone, but the soft tissue will need some time to heal.” The paramedic says as he gives the last sutures and puts on the dressing. “And either she is a fighter, or she was busy crying about something else, but she didn't complain once.”

“Ah, she's a fighter, that I know.” Price coos at you petting your head again and you feel yourself blush.

“Do you have the key for the cuffs, Captain?” You ask to change the subject and he smiles mischievously when he hears the way you call him.

“Don't call me that, sweet girl. I'm not your Captain, call me John, Price if you are not comfortable with firsts name.” He says and you nod letting him know you understand. “And I asked about the keys, but the master key is at the base. So guess you have to stick around with us for a bit more, sorry dear.”

You hide your face on Kyle's neck again sighing feeling your tears sting in your eyes. A sob escapes your lips and automatically both Price and Kyle are shushing and cooing at you. 

“What's making you so upset, doll? Are you uncomfortable with the sergeant?” Price asks, rubbing your back and you shake your head. “Then what is it? Use your words, love, please.”

“I'm just exhausted… I just wanted to go to bed… I'm so tired…” You mumble against Kyle's skin provoking him goosebumps and a sight to leave his lips.

“Let's get going then, the earlier we get to base the earlier you get back home.” He pats Kyle on the other shoulder and he stands up, you in his arms, as if you were weightless to the taller man.

You don't comment on the fact that he holds you from your ass, it’s too comfortable being held and you’d rather take it than to test your legs and force yourself to walk. 

Price opens the door to the minivan and Kyle sits with you on his lap. Price closes the door, circles the car and opens the door to sit on the other side. You look around quickly to see Ghost driving and Soap on the copilot seat.

After a couple of minutes of the drive, you notice Price slips a bit on his seat, just enough to rest his head on the headrest, and he puts his hat over his face to shield himself from the street lights as he crosses his arm to sleep for the rest of the drive.

And you envy him because you wish you could sleep too. If it wasn't because it seems like Ghost is catching every single curb and bump on the road, and every time he does, your and Kyle’s crotches rub each other making you both groan softly.

His hands find their way to your waist as you reposition yourself on his lap and he whispers to your ear. “You gotta empty that pretty head of yours, luv. It'll help you relax.”

You notice the growing bulge pressing right to your cunt, and when Kyle begins to move your hips back and forth against it… you let him. 

“Such a sweet girl, hm?” He mumbles as he drops wet open mouth kisses on your neck. “Poor, poor birdie. Getting involved in such a nasty situation, because of somebody else's mistakes.”

Little sighs escape your lips as you grab his t-shirt trying to not make any noise, the captain still sleeping on just two seats to your left.

You should be embarrassed, ashamed of yourself, afraid of these men you just met, of doing such a nasty thing in front of three other men even if they haven't noticed jet. 

But Kyle's hardening cock is still brushing against your cunt and it is making it really hard to focus on anything else.

Enjoying his freedom of movement, he undoes the first button of your work shirt, just to keep kissing your neck lower, grazing your collarbone.

His fingertips grab your hips harder, making it easier to move against him. 

“Helping us so much, letting us enter your house, your bedroom, taking the bullet like a champ. The trainees could learn from you. Moving so in sync with me, I didn't step on you even once. But you like moving with me don't you, sweet girl, hm?” He asks against your ear, making you shudder as you keep moving against them.

You can feel your panties get soaked with your arousal, the mix of Kyle's praises being whispered to your skin, his hard cock throbbing again and again against you, your ego inflating because of it, knowing you are affecting him just as he is affecting you, his warm hands on your waist.

“Take what you need, sweet girl. Take it, luv.” He mumbles letting his head rest on the seat headrest as his hand moves down to your ass impulsing you.

You can feel your climax coming closer and closer every second passing, but then Kyle moves you slightly back and the pressure moves to your clothed clit and you hide your face on his neck biting down as the orgasm washes over you.

Kyle goes back to whispering on your neck. “Keep moving, doll. Please, please, a little bit more, just a bit more, I know you can do it, please, doll… you are driving me crazy, please…” he begs softly as he moves his hips against yours making you gasp against his skin. Warm breath against the drool you just let on his skin making him shudder grunting softly just before he cums on his pants against your cunt. 

So close yet so far 

I have never in my life written smut before, so let me know how catastrophic that was.

Anyway, sorry if it is messy, I really have no clue where I'm taking this. Let me know if there any scenarios you would like to happen 💗

And I can't express how happy I am that so many people liked the first part, really, thanks so much.

[moonstruckme]

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 

“Overruled,” he decrees. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 

You sigh. “I figured.” 

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his fingers down your neck. 

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 

“Wasn’t ready for what?” 

“To be sick.” 

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 

“What is it?” James asks. 

“Thirty nine point five.” 

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius had the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

[laiiaaa]

trying to go to bed mad at Carmen but he’s just not having it LMFAO i just love him with a grumpy gf :(((

You’d like to blame him for it, just because he was short with you this morning. Stressed about a food critic coming to The Bear this weekend, he’s been on edge, losing sleep, and this morning was just one of those days it was getting to him: dodging your affection, hurrying out of bed, disjointed conversations he doesn’t try too hard to be a part of.

It’s not entirely his fault, and you know this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less, to be put to the side for even a day to make room for that colder edge to him when he gets zoned in.

So you give yourself the liberty to be a little bit shitty, too, just for the night.

You don’t greet him like you usually do, with a deep kiss hello and your hands squeezing at his sore muscles, offering to massage the knots in his shoulders. Instead you sit on the couch reading your book and offer him a fleeting glance. He pauses at the difference, but carries on.

You wait until long after he’s showered to get up. He even pops back into the living room beforehand, shorts hanging low in his waist, to call for you:

“You comin’ to bed?”

“Soon,” you tell him, which could be true, but not definite.

“Okay,” he sighs, coming behind you with a hand on your shoulder and a kiss to the opposite cheek.

You don’t give in, though, and he heads off to the bedroom.

You do join him eventually—almost an hour later, when you’re so tired that it’ll make you even more of a pain to deal with. He’s in the middle of fighting off sleep, trying to stay awake to make sure you come to bed with him, but as much as that makes your chest yearn for him, you plop down in bed a foot away and turn your back to him.

Behind you now, he shuffles to sit up. “Hey,” he tries, a soothing hand on your shoulder, “You alright, baby?”

No response.

Scooting a little closer to lean over and see your face, he brushes hair out of the way to press a kiss to your temple. “C’mon, talk t’me.”

But you turn away from his touch, and he scoffs.

“What, you mad at me now?” He watches you expectantly. “Not even gonna tell me what I did?”

“You didn’t do anything, Carmen,” you mumble, face muffled into your blanket.

“Wh—baby, don’t be like that right now—”

“Be like what?” you snap, sitting up and turning to look at him. “I’m sorry that my needs don’t align with your work schedule. Just let me know when it’d be best to reach you next time.” And with that, you drop back into bed, moving just a little further away from him.

He nearly laughs, then, real subtle with a hand rubbing his eyes and forehead because he knows you, he knows how you get when you miss him. He turns back onto his side with a groan and reaches his hand upon your waist, smoothing beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Don’t touch me,” you spit, but you don’t dare move his hand away: it feels so much better this way, getting the touch he didn’t give you this morning.

“You’re bein’ mean today. You all cranky ‘cause you miss me, ‘s that it?”

You don’t answer.

“C’mon,” he urges you, shuffling closer so that his arm wraps fully around your waist and his face can bury into your neck with a kiss to your smooth skin. “‘M sorry for bein’ shitty this morning.” Instinctively, he draws a hand up your tummy, right beneath your breasts. “Missed you all day, y’know that?”

“Just leave me alone, Carm, I’m serious.”

“‘M really sorry about this morning, baby.” Pressing kisses to your neck, he takes a deep breath to sink into you. “After that guy comes, it’ll be over with, and I’ll take a couple days off, alright?”

“I don’t care, do what you want.”

He sighs, deep and gravelly and frustrated with your antics—but more so frustrated with himself. He has been shitty this week, he knows it, and he knows you especially don’t deserve it. “C’mon, hon, you’re killin’ me here, at least—at least gimme a kiss goodnight, huh?”

But you don’t. Because of course you don’t, he’s on you’re fuckin’ nerves with his distance lately—but this, his rough hands against your skin, his pleading, his groveling like he can’t imagine a world without you…it helps.

A little.

Not quite enough to cave or give in, though.

He seems to lose a bit of strength against you, laying into the mattress on his back again with a sigh and an arm resting over his eyes. The room stills, the fan whirrs, yet the tension between you is thick enough yet to slice through it with his chef’s knife.

That is, until his arms wrap around you again, and his hands grip your waist tight, and he lets out a grunt of a Can’t believe you’re makin’ me do this, and he wrangles you on top of him, leaving you chest to chest, with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and his hand rubbing soothing patterns up and down your back while the other holds you steady, worried you’ll slither away again.

Like he knew it would, the tension in your body dissolves. And maybe that’s what you wanted anyway, but you’d never tell him that—at least, not until tomorrow morning.

The room stills again. The hand smoothing along your back sneaks beneath your shirt, and you melt that much quicker. It’s hypnotic, his rough palms against your soft skin, scratches an itch you didn’t know was there until he wasn’t. He smells crisply clean and of the body wash he buys because you like the scent, a little musky with aldehydes and vetiver and sandalwood.

“This better, baby?” he murmurs, lending a careful kiss to your head.

But you only bury yourself further into him and answer with “Mm.”

He chuckles a bit, squeezes you tighter to make your heart throb. “Thought you’d say somethin’ like that.” Punctuates it with more kisses where he can reach, because now that he’s got you tethered to him again, he doesn’t think he could let you go.

The two of you stay where you are, then, just soaking in the other’s presence with wordless appreciation exchanged, growing heavier with sleep as heartbeats sync and eyelids slip closed. And by morning, legs will be intertwined, and Carmen will pull you from a groggy daze with a kiss to your lips, and you’ll be a little less bitter when he heads off to work.

(He knows it’ll simmer till he comes home, but if he gets to sleep with your weight and your warmth again, he’s sure it’ll be alright.)

[toxicanonymity]

Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋 A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.

Raider POV of smut.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear. 

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts.  The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed. 

-

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black. 

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts. 

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him.  The look on his face makes your stomach turn. 

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.” 

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground.  His face becomes studious. 

“What,” you ask. 

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.  

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper.  Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you? 

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?” 

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly. 

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family. 

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name. 

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile. 

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle. 

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back. 

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself. 

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day. 

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going. 

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl. 

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up. 

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks. 

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile.  “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.” 

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings. 

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder. 

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun. 

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.” 

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much. 

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel. 

-

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel. 

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods. 

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.” 

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?” 

“Not heavily,” Carter answers. 

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says. 

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day.  When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside. 

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .” 

“Jill,” she pipes in. 

“Ron,” the man nods at you. 

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious. 

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention. 

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.”  Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.” 

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused.  “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.  

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all. 

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily. 

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles. 

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs. 

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log. 

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left. 

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up.  He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.  

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses. 

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back. 

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”  

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.” 

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust. 

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap. 

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!” 

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–” 

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama. 

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants. 

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands.  He stands up and points his gun at Carter.  He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster. 

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground. 

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs. 

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.” 

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.  

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected.  Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind. 

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head.  Jill screams. 

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun.  You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat.  She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings.  You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits. 

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her.  Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle. 

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing.  “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it.  Then he turns his attention to Jill.  She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her.  “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.  

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow. 

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore. 

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping. 

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel. 

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside. 

-

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved. 

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears. 

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter. 

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.” 

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.” 

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears. 

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.” 

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest.  He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water.  “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you. 

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water. 

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty.  You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.  

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away.  How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name.  “You okay?” 

You sniffle.  He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink. 

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away. 

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters. 

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?” 

“Makin’ it. .  .” 

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other. 

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.” 

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?” 

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?” 

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks. 

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist. 

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil. 

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas.  Gonna be cold either way.”  

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings. 

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum. 

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin. 

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back. 

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?” 

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her. 

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you. 

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching.  When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.”  This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel.  You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.  

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered.  You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?” 

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.” 

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs. 

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.” 

Your chest flutters with butterflies. 

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head.  He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.” 

The front door opens and shuts. 

“All good?” Joel yells. 

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn. 

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells. 

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed. 

-

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows.  He sits on the closed toilet seat again. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you. 

He looks at the object in his lap. 

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .” 

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?” 

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh. 

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.  

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.” 

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.” 

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker.  “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go. 

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart. 

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you.  He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it. 

-

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

That means you're doin’ it.  

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs.  You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?” 

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know.  But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely.  Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience. 

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.” 

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed. 

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly. 

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle.  “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause. 

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can. 

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t. 

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.  

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask. 

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him.  “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.  

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods. 

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him. 

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs.  Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open.  He growls, “God damn.”  You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already. 

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair.  You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him. 

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you. 

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock.  His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it.  So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest. 

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie.  He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely. 

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs. 

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head.  You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up. 

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.” 

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours. 

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.” 

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you.  Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs. 

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.” 

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours. 

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.  

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest.  You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back.  It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.  

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak. 

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock.  His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones. 

-

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.” 

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest.  He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.  

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring. 

----

----

Raider POV: The Kiss

----

----

----

So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[loveinhawkins]

The Championship Game of 1985 is only a quarter of the way done, and Eddie is already certain that it’s not going to be a Hawkins victory.

It kinda blows, honestly. It’s boring, like correctly guessing the ending of a movie five minutes in.

And yeah, sue him, maybe high school basketball is a legitimate source of entertainment—he can admit that in the safety of his own head, at least.

Take, for example, the first game of the ‘83 tournament, when a timeout was called with only seconds remaining: the Tigers’ last hope of winning was to miraculously sink a shot with the fraction of time they had left. The tension in the air was palpable as the team formed a huddle—Eddie couldn’t hear anything apart from students chanting, but he stood on his tiptoes and found a gap in the crowd, just in time to read Steve Harrington’s lips: “I’ll make it.”

And he had—with a goddamn stunning full-court jump shot, too, the ball falling through the net just before the buzzer sounded.

Like, come on. Eddie would only admit it under pain of death, but that definitely rivals the intensity of any worthy campaign.

But he can see none of that excitement now. The Tigers have had few opportunities to even get the ball, and whenever they do, Billy Hargrove seems to have taken it upon himself to hog the damn thing, like it’s a symbol of his masculinity.

Of course, he loses the ball—again—and his nostrils flare with anger.

Maybe that’s why Eddie notices it. He’s checked out of paying attention to the game itself, instead focusing on the jaded expressions of Hargrove’s teammates.

As the ball makes its way down center court, Eddie’s eyes are instead drawn to Steve Harrington. He looks pissed, wiping sweat off his forehead and shouting what looks like some pretty choice words at Hargrove’s back.

Hargrove doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, but for just a moment he goes completely still, and all Eddie can think is danger.

It’s covert, the way it’s all done. Hargrove’s move is quick and calculated; he steps far enough away afterwards that it looks like the whole thing is the fault of a rival player.

But Eddie sees the subtle shove. Sees Steve lose his footing.

He goes down hard.

Winces ripple through the audience. Eddie hears Robin Buckley from band suck air through her teeth, then ramble, “Shit, do you think it’s really bad? Beth Wildfire, on my soccer team, her bone, like, came out of her whole knee, you could see it, must’ve been six inches—”

It doesn’t look like anything as gory as that has happened; Steve is already up, and from the redness of his face, it initially seems as if the only thing that’s been hurt is his pride.

But as Eddie sidles to the end of the front row, within earshot of the bench, he sees that Steve can’t put his weight on one ankle, sees the telling way he grits his teeth while speaking.

“I can keep going,” he says, even as Jason Carver’s getting pulled up to replace him.

The coach barely spares Steve a glance, clapping Carver on the shoulder as he jogs onto the court.

“Get someone to take you over to the nurse.”

Steve’s spine goes rigid. “But I can—”

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” The coach finally looks at Steve directly, pointing a stern finger at his chest. “You’re benched, Harrington.”

Steve visibly deflates. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and then he glances to the side, as if suddenly aware that he’s drawing attention to himself.

This time, when his teeth clench, Eddie thinks that it’s more from embarrassment than pain.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and he limps out of the hall—close enough that he clips Eddie by the shoulder as he goes.

Eddie doesn’t know that he’s made a decision until he’s already moving, stepping to the side.

He turns and heads for the exit.

There’s a jeering call from the bench: Mark Lewinsky.

“Aw, what are you gonna do, Munson? Nurse him back to health?”

Obscene moaning noises, punctuated with laughter.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

He finds Steve in the corridor, bracing himself with a hand against the wall. There’s a couple of pictures on the floor, class photos taken for the yearbook that had been pinned up; Steve must have inadvertently torn them down as he grappled for balance.

“Go away, Munson,” he says without looking. “Go back to the game.”

“I’ve kinda lost interest,” Eddie says lightly. He manages to watch Steve take one painful step before he simply can’t do it anymore—stepping forward, he says, “Christ, Harrington, here.”

Steve jolts away from his hand. “Fuck off, I don’t need—”

“Well, fuck you too, then,” Eddie snaps. Something’s burning in his chest, a sudden and fierce hurt. “Jesus Christ. You know what I am isn’t fucking catching, right?”

He shocks himself by saying it.

In the silence that follows all he can think is that, for once, his dad was right: he never did learn how to shut his damn mouth.

Steve’s staring at him, pressing his back against the wall like it’s the one thing keeping him upright.

“That’s—that’s not why—” He breaks off, looks completely lost.

Somewhere within Eddie’s own mortification, he takes pity on him.

He sniffs, tries to act nonchalant. “Don’t hurt yourself, man.”

“No, I—I didn’t mean…” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry. That’s not—I just meant—” He pushes off from the wall again, wobbles until his hand finds purchase. “Just meant I can do it myself.”

Eddie feels his heart rate slow. He tilts his head. Re-examines Steve’s posture: the set to his jaw, the pained determination.

Years ago, Eddie broke his wrist at the fair, thanks to an awkward crash while on the bumper cars. It was the first summer that staying at Wayne’s had become a permanent thing, and Eddie had hidden his wrist beneath the folds of his too-large leather jacket, but Wayne met him off the ride and immediately noticed (“Chrissake, Ed. I’m not mad, kid. Just… lemme help you?”).

Eddie tried to stay silent as he got wrapped into a splint, because anything else felt like admitting to something.

Felt shameful.

“Yeah, you can,” Eddie says, shrugging. He pauses. Takes a chance. “Doesn’t mean you have to, though.”

He moves forward again—slower this time. Offers his hand.

Steve takes it.

“For the record,” he says, grunting as he shifts his weight, “I could’ve kept playing. Like, I’ve had worse.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks, you sure have.

Steve clearly hasn’t sensed that Eddie’s thoughts have gone to how messed up his face was last winter, because he keeps talking.

“Anyway. My own damn fault.” A rueful grin. “Didn’t plant my feet.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says. “You don’t have to… I saw. I saw Hargrove, man.”

Steve scoffs quietly. “Yeah, of course you did.”

“Shit, Harrington, way to make me sound like a stalker.”

“No, it’s just—” Steve shakes his head. “Just typical, that’s all. Remember when the fire alarm went off, last spring? You were the only one who noticed Debbie Lyons was missing.”

“Uh, so?”

Steve smiles. “So… you notice things.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

But he gives it a try as they round another corner.

“What the fuck is Hargrove’s problem with you, dude?”

Steve chuckles wryly. “I’m really annoying.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve manages to elbow him in the ribs. “But not, like, ‘intentionally injure’ levels of annoying. He threw the game, too.”

“Huh?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a pointed look. “Took out one of our best players.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but still looks undeniably pleased. “Shuddup.” He sobers in the space of taking another step and says, “With Hargrove, it’s… there’s bigger things than basketball, y’know?”

Eddie hears the just drop it underneath what’s spoken. He nods.

They’re almost at the nurse’s office when Steve sighs. “S’not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Hmm?”

��My last game.” Steve winces slightly as they inch closer to the door; Eddie tries to take more of his weight. “Had it in my head that I’d win, go out on a high.”

Eddie’s staring down the prospect of repeating senior year again—he knows all about having ideas in your head that don’t quite pan out.

“Life isn’t like a movie, Harrington,” he says.

It comes out perhaps more fond than he intended.

For some reason, Steve starts laughing like he’s heard something downright hilarious. “Yeah, gonna have to agree to disagree on that one, Munson.”

In the nurse’s office, they find out Steve’s probably got a bad sprain rather than a fracture (“See? I totally could’ve kept playing,” Steve insists), but that he should get it checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Ice pack in one hand, Steve makes a call on the office phone, with what sounds like a morbidly curious teen on the other end: “No, dude, there’s no blood—can you be normal for, like, two seconds and put your mom on? Thank you.”

As Steve hangs up, Eddie is very aware that the right time to leave was probably five minutes ago.

He stays put.

“This was supposed to be my last game, too,” he says.

“Was?”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well. S’not confirmed yet, haven’t had my last test results back. But uh, it’s kinda like the game.” He nods in the direction that they came, towards the basketball court. “I already know which way it’s gonna go.”

There’s no judgement in Steve’s eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve been boring to watch.”

Eddie smiles. “Nah, you’re good.”

He doesn’t say that, in his eyes, Steve’s single-handedly given the school almost all of its memorable basketball moments. That his secret favourite one isn’t even a Tigers victory: there was a game when Steve was poised to take the winning shot, and a kid from Connersville fainted.

In the few seconds of confusion, Steve could’ve still taken the shot. He could’ve won.

But as soon as he realised what was going on, he refused to.

To Eddie, that says more about him than any triumph ever could.

The phone rings again; the nurse is letting a Mrs Henderson in at the front of the school to pick up Steve.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Eddie says, because there’s only so many people allowed in the office at one time.

“See you, Munson. Um, thanks, by the way. Hope next year’s championship is, uh, better.”

There’s something in the way he says it, like even while still in the building, he’s drifting away, high school in his rear view mirror.

Oh, Eddie thinks wistfully, you’re already halfway outta here, aren’t you?

Goddamnit. I might actually miss you, Steve Harrington. You and your stupid hair.

“Hmm, can’t see myself going to watch next year.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

Eddie lingers in the doorway. Maybe it’s the fact that in a few weeks they’re never gonna see each other again. Maybe that helps him say it. Makes him a little braver.

He’s never learned to shut his damn mouth.

“My favourite player’s leaving,” he says.

And sure, he leaves barely a second later; he’s not that brave.

But he stays just long enough to catch Steve’s smile: startled, pleased, and perhaps just a little shy—like he’s made the winning shot after all.

[lives-in-midgard]

Secret injury

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Trying to hide an embarrassing injury from Bucky isn't as easy as you thought.

Word Count: 840

Masterlist

Normally you would tell your boyfriend Bucky everything. You don't like having secrets from him or not telling him the truth. But this day you just couldn't tell him what happened at work. The floor was wet, and you slipped. You hurt your foot, it hurts when you sit down, and your hips hurt a little. You stood up like nothing happened and luckily no one saw what had happened. Even though it really hurt you didn't want to tell it Bucky. First because you are embarrassed of it and also because you don't want him to worry about that. Bucky has so much worse injuries sometimes and you shouldn't whine about something like that you thought and decided to not tell him.

But when you came home to your shared apartment with Bucky it went different then you thought. He immediately thought that something was wrong when you found him in the kitchen. Bucky only needed one look into your eyes and knew that something was wrong.

"It was just a really stressful day at work." You said which wasn't a complete lie but not the only reason you weren't feeling well.

"Oh, doll. Come here." Bucky softly said and pulled you into a hug. He rubbed your back and gave you a forehead kiss. After a while you broke the hug and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek.

"How about you take a shower, or I make you a bath so you can relax a little, while I make dinner ready for us?" Bucky asked.

"I'll take a quick shower." You mumbled.

"Okay, but you don't need to hurry doll. Take your time." Bucky softly said. You nodded and then Bucky gave you a kiss on the check while his hand rested on your hip. You flinched a little because it was at the exact spot that was hurting you. When Bucky turned to you, he had a worried look on his face.

"Are you sure that everything is okay?" Bucky asked and you nodded.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I'll go take a shower." You said and went straight into the bathroom without looking at Bucky anymore. After the shower and putting on some new clothes you felt a little bit better. When you came into the kitchen it was filled with a delicious smell. Bucky decorated the table and cooked a delicious meal for the two of you.

"How about a movie night, doll?" Bucky suggested after he put the last plate into the dishwasher and looked over to you. You decided to watch a movie from the list with movies Bucky still had to watch and made yourself comfortable in bed. Which wasn't easy because you couldn't lay on that side that was hurting you. Bucky didn't say anything, but you could see that he looked worried when he put his arm around you. When the movie ended you were tired, so Bucky turned the light off.

"Good night, doll." Bucky whispered and waited that you would cuddle up with him like you always do but you couldn't because it was on that side that was hurting you. You laid on the other side and after a few minutes you suddenly felt Bucky's arm around you. You really didn't want to flinch, but you did.

"Doll, what's wrong?" You wanted to say something but then Bucky turned the light on.

"Did I do something to upset you?" Bucky asked and you sat up with your back leaned on the headboard.

"No, of course not Bucky. Please don't ever think something like that." You quickly said because you didn’t want him to feel like he did something wrong.

"But-" Bucky started to talk but you interrupted him.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth right away."

"You know you can tell me everything, doll."

"I know I'm sorry. I was just so embarrassed, and I didn't want you to worry. The floor at work was wet, I slipped and now my foot hurts, when I sit down it hurts here and my hips hurt a little.” You paused for a second and tried to think what to say next.

“And I also didn't want to tell you because you have so much worse injuries than that and I didn't want to look like a baby because that hurts me." You finished and Bucky reached for your hand.

"Oh, doll. Please don't ever compare your injuries with mine. Of course, your injuries hurt too even when they are not as bad as mine. But that doesn't mean that you need to hide them from me. I want to know when you are hurt, next time when something happens, please tell me." Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and gave you a forehead kiss.

"I'm sorry, I promise next time I'll tell you."

"It's okay, I'm glad nothing worse had happened." Bucky was right you shouldn’t hide something like that from him and from now on you would tell him if something happened.

[choso-star]

jjk men and jobs!!

summary:

jjk men and there modern jobs!!

characters:

gojo, geto, choso, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, ino

authors note

wow this was a lot more than i was thinking id wrote for my first time! let me know what you think!

CONTAINS! nsfw, fluff

bartender! gojo

-i just see gojo as a bartender, i have literally no clue why i just do.

-just imagine him standing behind the bar, muscles showing through his tight dress shirt, sleeves slightly pulled up🤭🤭

-thats definitely how you guys met, him standing behind the bar on your 21st birthday, your friends long gone partying and you just sitting there, looking all sweet.

“aww look at the little birthday girl layin down and takin my cock so well” all you can do to respond to the man pounding into you is clench your pussy around his cock. “to fucked dumb to say anything? its okay baby we’ll be finished soon and i can send you back to your friends” when you do end up going back to your friends, gojo is back behind the bar serving drinks and your walking out of the bar with cum dripping down your leg.

—————————————————————————

tattoo artist! geto

-i have such a love hate relationship with this man😞

-he looks like he would genuinely be so talented, and so skillful with his hands(🤭)

-his favorite tattoos to do are definitely the more intricate ones he can really put his heart into

-you probably came into his shop, no appointment and wanting your first tattoo. normally, he probably wouldnt have done it for anybody else, but you’re just to cute to refuse.

“hold still princess, it’ll only hurt for a moment” geto says, pressing the needle to your skin, a loud cry leaving your throat. normally, this wouldnt bother him but today its just different. no matter how many times he tells you to stay quiet or for you to not move, you dont listen, you cant help it after all. “y’know what if your gonna keep bitchin i’ll make you quite”

—————————————————————————

piercer! choso

-this man has my heart he could literally do anything to me

-choso is such a sweetheart, he really is, but he doesn’t necessarily look that sweet.

-with his strong build, arms covered in tattoos, several piercings, he looks a little more rugged.

-this certainly wasnt your first piercing, but it was one of your more painful ones, and based on the reviews, choso was your best and safest bet.

-you were definitely nervous but once you saw choso you almost turned around and left. but your committed, your going to get this piercing.

“just lay down on the chair and it wont take very long” you lay down, ‘to late to turn back now’ you thought. as you lay back choso takes his seat in between your legs, preparing everything to complete the piercing. his hands slightly lifted up your shirt to expose your belly button. you would be lying if it wasn’t a great sight. “so pretty, ready for your piercing?”

—————————————————————————

ceo! nanami

-i know, i know “ceo? everyone puts him as that” its just what he is😞

-he looks so good, sitting at the desk in his office, one foot crossed over the other propped on the desk, working on paper work

-your just his little secretary bringing him coffee every morning and checking up on him every so often. i guess you wouldnt want colleagues to know what you always do at your 2 o’clock meeting.

“such a good girl bent over the desk for me” he says, fingers plunging in and out of your tight cunt. “nanamin p-please give’m more” you slur out, then feeling a sharp slap across your ass, causing you to whimper. “if you dont shut up your not getting any of my cock”

—————————————————————————

plumber! toji

-oh god he can come clean my pipes whenever 😊😊 (please send help)

-definitely fucking hates his job😭 wishes he didnt have to work but knows he needs the money bad.

-you would think he would half ass shit to get it done but he’s doing everything the best he can so he never has to come back.

-and then he came to your house, or, your daddys mansion.

“m’better hurry up before your daddy gets home” toji says, holding your hips as you bounce on his cock. “t-toji your too big., m’gonna cum soon- ah” you cried out, but your sobs fell to deaf ears as toji started fucking up into you harder “c’mon baby lets make this quick, we can do more next time”

toji didn’t fix all of your houses pipes this time, looks like he’ll have to come back to finish the job.

—————————————————————————

actor! megumi

-he’s a pretty boy so ofc he’s gonna be on screen

-all the girls want him, he’s literally the josh hutcherson of his universe. constant edits being made of him, always being shipped with someone new.

-what they wouldnt expect is the one he wants isnt an actor, a producer, another celebrity of any kind, but his own personal makeup artist

“hold still megs i have to put more blush on you” you say, slightly sticking your tongue out to concentrate. megumi’s hands find there way to your hips, and pulling you down onto his lap, causing you to accidentally get to much blush on the side of his face“megumi! now im gonna have to redo your base” you whine, but megumi doesn’t care, pulling you into a slow kiss “as long as i get to spend more time with my favorite girl”

—————————————————————————

delivery driver! yuji

-i felt bad for giving him a delivery driver (no hate to delivery drivers obvi) i feel like its so much less glamorous but it kinda fits him😭😭

-yuji is a little pizza boy, driving around the city in his busted, broken toyota camry, but whatever pays the bills right?

-but, hes a broke college student and this is the only way to pay off all his loans.

-its his last house for the night, he walks up to the door and sees you, teary eyed and holding a tub of ice-cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“fuck.. you like that? do i fuck you better than he ever could” he said, your pushed against the wall with yuji fucking you at a pace you cant keep up woth “mmmhm.. m’yes- y..uji soso good!” you cry out, tears spilling from your face as he keeps going “good, i’ll fuck the thoughts of him out of your mind”

—————————————————————————

firefighter! ino

-oh my lord imagine this man in firefighter gear, AWOOGA, that hose aint the only thing spraying🥰(im sorry that was so bad😭)

-ino is a caring person, putting others safety before his own, i mean thats his job as a firefighter.

-so when someone sets your apartment on fore, ino is the first one rushing in to help, even tho he has no clue who you are

-he helps you out, and then theres the investigation, but ino is the only one you trust to talk to about what happened! looks like you’ll be spending a lot more time with him!!

“cmon baby im only fucking you in here cause you basically begged for me infront of those police officers “ he says hips snapping against your own, balls slapping your ass. “i only wanna talk to that firefighter ino! cant i talk to ino!” he says in a high pitch tone meant to be mocking you. “well now im here so talk to me baby, tell me how you feel.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Story Time || LN4 & MV1

Random blurb that popped into my head. Lando Norris x Fem!reader, platonic!max verstappen x bestfriend!reader

Max was streaming with his Redline Team as he usually did when it wasn’t race week. You had received the notification that he had gone live on Twitch and grabbed Lando’s laptop from beside the bed to log in and watch it.

“Okay, I have another story you might enjoy.”

Lando chuckled as he entered the room with the cups of tea he had gone to make. “His stories are the best.”

There was never a shortage of stories from Max and you were lucky to have witnessed them for a large portion of your life. You had known Max since you were young and it was through him that you met Lando.

Your boyfriend handed you the mug that he had given you for Valentine’s Day last year: a big red heart that had his LN4 symbol in the middle. It still amused you that his gift was really for himself and you happily drank from it every day.

“He can hardly keep a straight face,” you said as you pointed to Max’s video feed. “It has to be a good one.”

“So I got a call last week from my good friend, Y/N.” Max had to stop to take a sip of his red Bull as he was laughing too much. “She was on a date with Lando, still don’t know how that happened but that’s another story, and they went to dinner in Florence. Lovely, right. One thing about Lando and Y/N, their Italian is absolutely terrible.”

“I’m already offended,” you said as you grabbed your phone.

“Oh, she’s watching the stream!” Max laughed as he read the text message you had sent him and he held it up to the screen for a second. “It says, ‘eighteen years of friendship and you settle on good? I’m insulted. Sincerely, your ex-best friend and current good friend.’ I think I’ve hurt her feelings. I’m sorry, I love you.

“Anyway, my good friend, she sends me a photo of her meal and immediately calls me. ‘Like what the fuck is this? I asked for pasta.’ Blah, blah, blah. Turns out she ordered a bean salad. She’s too embarrassed to admit she messed up so she eats the salad, she fucking hates salads, and then orders dessert.

“I get another picture and phone call soon after and she’s absolutely fuming because she received another bean salad.”

Lando was in hysterics beside you as he relived the disastrous date and he put his mug down before more tea spilled over the bedspread. “I’m sorry, baby, but it was funny.”

The chat down the side of the live stream was already getting bombarded with information you could have done with last weekend.

@/tifosi1: Cannelloni = Pasta @/vinividivici: Cannellini = Beans @/verstap1: Cannoli = Dessert

“We’ll have to see if she shows up to Monza, because she swore she would never step foot in Italy again.”

You fired another text through and he choked on his laugh. “I can’t read this one out loud, I’ll probably get censored and the race is ready. That’s it for story time.”

“I hate him,” you huffed as you slammed the laptop closed.

“I don’t,” Lando grinned, taking the laptop away and pulling you into his arms. “He brought you into my life.”

“Shhh, stop being sweet and let me be mad at him.”

“Okay, he’s an absolute bastard. We should toilet paper his apartment and throw eggs at his car.”

You cupped his face and pecked him on the lips. “Thank you. That must have been hard to say.”

“Yeah,” he shivered with a grimace. “Can we not be mad at him now? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither…fine.”

You unlocked your phone and sent him one last text.

To Max: I’m still your best friend.

You didn’t receive a reply until his race finished and you smiled as you showed it to Lando.

From Max: Always.

[princessbrunette]

imagine rafe trying to teach you a little bit of self defense but you just get turned on by him manhandling you and he’s just tsking at you underneath him with your hands pinned above your head lowly whispering “you gotta pay attention kid, there’s bad men out there… gotta know how’t stop em from from thinking they can do whatever they want” and she’d get all blushy and squirming just looking at him all doe eyed like “You can do what ever you want 🥺🥺🩷” He loves how submissive you are !!!!

i love this idea sm but when i started writing it kinda turned into something else ??? kinda dubcon but that’s just how he plays sometimes. reader is clearly wanting it !

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

rafe was in one of his moods. the odd moods he gets in where he’s suddenly motivated to fix things, handle business, be ‘proactive’ as he puts it. there was no business to handle that day, so he turned his attention to you — deciding now of all times was the time to teach you how to defend yourself.

the idea had sprung to him when he walked into the room and stared you down, coming to the harrowing realisation that you hadn’t even noticed his presence, too engrossed in the book in your grasp. he creeps closer, and you don’t even blink. he edges behind you, and notes the way he could grab you into a headlock if he wanted, or cover your mouth, hell — he could snap your neck. you’d never see it coming.

of course, he didn’t want to ever hurt you — which is why he decided to stage an impromptu lesson. that gets you to where you end up, pinned to the ground beneath him.

“ow, rafe.” you frown wiggling your wrist from his grip until he lets it free with a shake of his head. you weren’t too happy about him stealing you away from your time of relaxation with your book — but you would never give up the opportunity to have your boyfriends hands on you. you thought things would have played out a little more… fun.

“see, you — you did it again. if i put my hand here, what are you gonna do, huh? what’d i tell you?” he raises his eyebrows, prompting a response.

“uhh, bite it?” you giggle, making him sit up on his knees, jaw ticking in frustration.

“you know i’m tryna save your life here, kid. someone comes up to you and grabs you, you’re screwed, ‘cos you don’t know how to protect yourself. i’m not always gonna be around to fight people off okay?”

“why not?” you whine, pressing a socked foot against his chest from where you lay. he wraps a hand gently around your ankle and brings it down, expression displaying his frustration.

“because i am not with you 24 hours a day, alright? m’not playing around here. you gonna listen?” he nudges your thigh with his own and you huff, head moving with a noncommittal nod. “okay.” he brings his body down onto yours, pinning you down with it. he had to be doing this on purpose. “alright, flip me on my back. go.”

you can’t help yourself, you wrap your legs around his waist and bring his crotch flush against yours with a little giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he presses his lips together, staring at you blankly from his incredibly close proximity and stays silent until your childish laughs die down. you think he’s going to remove himself, lecture you and walk off for a little while— but he continues to stare, even when you wriggle beneath him, legs split around his body — mound of your cunt pressing up against his bulge.

“you think this is some kinda joke huh?” he asks quietly, and the smile starts to melt off your face. “like — like i’m just doin’ this shit for fun.” he glares, and now your hearts pounding because you only wanted to be close to him!

“no…” you mewl, brows knitted but it’s too late. he pushes himself up on his knees again, looking down on you.

“you know i’m real nice to you. there’s bad men out there that’ll really rough you up. maybe… maybe i should give you a taste of that, huh? show you what i’m protecting you from.”

you go to argue, tell him you’ll listen — but he slides a leg under yours and in one movement flips you so you’re suddenly laying on your front, ass a little raised. he leans over you, collecting your wrists with one hand and pins them down. “nah, go ahead. try and fight me off baby. see if you can.” he speaks eerily calmly and you wriggle, realising you’re totally pinned beneath his weight with no escape. “yeah, that shits scary huh? can’t get out.” he nods and you let out a little cry.

“okay, rafe c’mon!”

“nah, you think this is a game so i’m gonna show you just how fuckin’ real this is a’ight?” he tucks his free hand into your pyjama shorts and begins to yank them down. you hate how your heart feels like it’s in your throat and yet your cunt throbs and your back arches from muscle memory. “better wise up, sweetheart— ‘cos i don’t think you’re getting out of this.” he gives your ass cheek a firm smack, watching the fat of it recoil beneath the touch and you whine.

“teach me! rafe you can teach me, please!” you pout, craning round to look at him. his lip is curled into a malicious smirk, head shaking in disapproval.

“yeah, you know you’re just too late. gonna have to learn your lesson now, alright? remember this shit.”

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

[breadbrobin]

skipping stones

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: it’s been a rough day for you, and clarisse doesn’t know how to help, as much as she wants to try

warnings: none really, just fluff and a little sad slander oops, oh and maybe slightly ooc clarisse as always

word count: 783

(hiiii it’s been a minute. i wrote this after skipping stones at a river for like an hour while my friend sat around next to me and i wanted someone to support me in my skipping endeavours so here we are)

————————————————

clarisse could always find you skipping stones.

you weren’t good at it. hell, you were even bad at it. but that never stopped you.

you’d told her once that it kept you closer to your family, since you hadn’t been able to get back to them since coming to camp two years ago, and you missed them more than words could describe.

she wasn’t even sure how it happened; how you became her best friend at camp, and she became yours, despite your differences.

where she was hard, you were soft. where she was cruel, you were kind. and where she was cold, you were as warm as any fire she’d ever known. warmer, even.

she didn’t even know when those feelings had shifted—from indifference to care, from friendship to love—but it didn’t really matter. what did matter was she could always find you skipping stones. and that’s exactly where you were.

she sat next to you on the shore, staring out at the long island sound ahead of her. you were looking down at the rocks, no doubt searching for your next ones to skip. your knees were bent and pulled to your chest with your arm under your thighs to lean forward. she couldn’t help but smile. if anyone saw she’d be made fun of, but with you, she didn’t care too much. she picked up a flat stone by her foot and nudged you.

you looked up at her with a smile, taking the stone and preparing to skip it. “thanks.” this one skipped maybe three times. she wasn’t really paying attention. her eyes were on your face, mapping your features, the light freckles, the crease between your eyebrows as you searched for another stone. she was watching your hands as you weighed two up before choosing one. she was staring at your lips, seeing them pout, press together, curl into a slight smile as the stone skipped.

“what’s wrong?” she asked.

“do you wanna try?” you extended a flat stone to her, about half the size of her palm. she was tempted to take it and put it in her pocket.

but she shook her head. “i’ve never had enough patience to learn to skip stones. you know that.”

“i do,” you nodded, your lips pressed together again. gods, what she wouldn’t give for those lips to be pressed against hers. “worth a shot.”

you skipped it, pouting as it crashed through a small wave and disappeared into the sea.

“what’s wrong?” clarisse asked again. “you can’t avoid the question forever, n/n.”

“yes, i can,” you said, skipping another rock.

“no. i won’t let you. what is it? did someone mess with you? i’ll kill them—“

you cut her off by laughing. “no, clarisse! no one messed with me, and please don’t commit any crimes in my name.”

“yours is the only name i’d ever commit crimes in,” she said firmly. you believed her. “now, tell me what’s wrong.”

you sighed and looked out at the grey horizon. it wasn’t a beautiful day, but it was warm for early spring and it hadn’t rained yet. “my dad called camp. he wants me to come home.”

“i thought your dad didn’t know where you were.”

“so did i.”

it was silent.

“so, what? he sent you away? that’s bullshit!”

“yeah,” you didn’t drag your eyes from the horizon. your knuckles were tight around a stone in your grip. “it is.”

her red-hot anger died in her throat as she saw your face and the blatant hurt on it. she wasn’t good at comforting people. she was actually really bad. it was easy to comfort clarisse: just let her yell about it and punch things until she feels better. but you… she’d seen you upset before, but never defeated. you looked defeated.

she was stumped.

“do you… do you need, like, a hug?” she offered awkwardly.

a snort escaped your lips. “a hug?”

“yeah! i mean… what do you need? how can i help you?” she asked, trying to save face.

you paused, turning your gaze to look at her face. “a hug would be nice, yeah.”

she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around you. she was worried it’d be awkward, that you’d both be tense and uncomfortable and it would be terrible, but you settled into her arms like you were made to be there. and god you were warm. it was like hugging someone who’d just gotten out of the drier.

“and if this doesn’t help we can throw rocks in the sea and yell about how angry we are,” she suggested after a moment. “that always helps me.”

she took your laughter as a good sign.

[m-arkmywords]

water fall (interluuube)

pairing: jaemin x gf!reader genre: established relationship, wholesome, smut, lil bit of size-kink? (pls close the gyms before I lose my mind) word count: 1.7k summary: coming home to your boyfriend and kittens after a long, tiring day at work. featuring luna, lucy and luke ofc. :) jaemin is a cat dilf.

Dropping your bags to the floor, you locked the door behind you as you stepped into your home. Small foot steps and meows filled the room, as your kittens ran to you. 

“Hi babies” You coo’d, immediately getting on your knees and petting them. The kittens rubbed their faces on you and purred. Just like that, the tiredness you had been feeling on your way home, disappeared. The muscles in your body relaxed and you were so happy to be home. 

“Where is your dad?” You asked the kittens in baby talk, giving them kisses and pets. 

Scooping them all up in your arms, you got up and made your way to the bedroom. 

“Hi doll, how was your day?” Jaemin looked up and smiled, putting his laptop away to give you his full attention. 

You walked over towards him, dropping the kittens on the bed and sat beside Jaemin. You sighed, falling into his arms. 

“I’m tired” you mumbled into his neck. His scent engulfed your senses as you melted further into his frame. 

“Baby.. come lay.” He pulled you onto the bed and you got comfortable with your head on his lap. 

Jaemin ran his fingers through your hair as you talked about your day. His touch was soft and gentle. He let you rant for what felt like hours. His responses filled with mms and chuckles at the stories. You told him about how loud kids can get during field trips and how much that hurts your head, even though seeing kids happy is what made you get into teaching in the first place. 

“Not everyone can be as well behaved as our babies, you know?” You said, pointing to the kittens playing amongst themselves. 

“You’re right, we are raising them right babe.” Jaemin dropped his head down and gave you a kiss. 

“I think we make good parents, personally” “Isn’t that right kitties?” He wiggled his fingers on the bed, getting the kittens’ attention as they ran to grab his hand and you both giggled.

You twisted your head to look at up at him, unintentionally moving closer to his crotch. “I love you guys, my little family.” 

“And I love you” Jaemin felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment as he tried to pull his t-shirt further down, covering his now slowly growing semi. 

Your boyfriend looked away trying to distract himself and his fingers in your hair came to a halt. 

“Baby, why’d you stop?” You twisted your head once again, to look up at him and he held your head in place. “It’d be nice if you kept your head still” He said still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Huh?” “Wait- wha?” You burst out laughing as Jaemin tried to hold his laugh in too. He continued to adjust his t-shirt but you caught on to what was going on.

“Really Jaem?! In front of the kids?” You pulled his hand away from his t-shirt to look at his erection and teased him.

Grabbing a cat toy from your night stand, you wiggled it around before throwing out into the living room. Lucy, Luna and Luke ran after it, leaving you both alone in the room. 

“Jaem, look at me..” You whispered to your flustered boyfriend, who couldn’t stop giggling coyly. 

It didn’t take long for his giggles to stop and his breath to hitch when you slowly snaked your hand over his clothed dick. You palmed him as you looked up at him and he held your face, smiling down at you.

You could feel the atmosphere shift in the room when his dick became fully erect and his breathing got heavy from your touch. Jaemin’s face came down once again, as you got up and met his lips half way, hungrily. 

Sitting on your heels, you reached for the hem of his t-shirt and ripped it off him and he returned the favour. Taking your trousers off, you couldn’t wait to get on his lap and straddle him, deepening the kiss. Jaemin’s hands felt big around your waist, as he kneaded your skin. Panting in unison, the heat began to grow between you two and you moaned into his mouth. 

Jaemin’s mouth made its way down to your jawline, then behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He gave your ear a gentle bite, which made your hips grind down on his erection. You felt your underwear beginning to soak through when it made contact with his hard, heavy length.

He continued to kiss you along your neck, collar bones until he made his way to your breasts and he pulled down your bra to take a nipple in his mouth. Your hands grabbed his head, affectionately caressing it. 

Jaemin was a lot bigger than you in size, so seeing him like this, under you with your breast in his mouth, made your head spin. Your right hand travelled down to the side of his neck as you held onto him for support, your nails grazed his skin and he groaned into you. 

“Need you..” You whimpered when he brought his fingers began playing with your nipple. He left kisses back up to find your lips once again. His tongue deep inside you mouth, making you ache for him. He began thrusting against your clit to meet your subtle movements on him, both of you swallowing each others moan. 

Jaemin bit your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Then take me.” 

He leaned back into the headboard, admiring you in your aroused state. He smiled. You loved Jaemin’s smile, it could light up any room he walked into. It was your favourite thing about him. His hands rested on your hips, holding you in place as you took him out of his boxers. 

You leaned in to peck his lips again before, you let some spit slowly drop down to his dick and you worked his length. Jaemin maintained the eye contact as his expressions began to switch. His smile faded into his mouth slightly parted and his eyebrows furrowed, at your touch. 

He bit his lip, “just like that doll, keep going.” He whispered, rubbing your hips with his big hands. 

Sounds of his pre cum, mixed with your spit could be heard and it only made you grow wetter. Jaemin lightly traced his hands along your front, until his thumb found its way to your clit where he began rubbing circles. You started to feel impatient. You needed to feel him. You had to have him right now. 

Jaemin moved your ruined panties to the side, as he rubbed your slit with his long finger. He slid his digit inside you which was met with a mmmm sound from you. 

“You ready for me already?” He commented on your wetness with a gasp.

“Come here.” 

Jaemin grabbed your hands, moving them to his broad, muscly shoulders as he pulled you in closer, connecting your lips once again. You felt your heart beat inside your ears from desire, taking over every atom in your body, when you felt him twitch under you. You sighed into his mouth once again before grabbing the base of his dick, you hovered over him. 

Apparent desperation on your face, made Jaemin smile as he pulled your panties to the side once more, staring into your eyes. You both held eye contact as you slowly sunk down on him, making his jaw go slack and his head fall back. You gasped, taking him in, inch by inch, until he filled you up. 

You let out a loud whimper as your head also fell into his neck and you started to move. Stroking him painfully slow, unable to stop your thighs from shaking and moans rolling out of you like  breathing. 

Jaemin slid down further, giving you more control and wrapped his arms around you. Mirroring his actions, you also wrapped your arms around his head as he buried his face into your chest. His tongue found its way to your nipples once again, making you squirm.

“You’re doing so good, doll.. just like that” Jaemin breathed out, digging his nails into your back and scratching all the way down to your waist. He smacked your ass. “Keep going for me…” 

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm come crashing as you unraveled on top of Jaemin, leaving him in a daze. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you. 

“Spit.” He opened his mouth under you, and you did as you were asked. “Pretty girl.” Jaemin lightly tapped your cheek with his hand, as you rode out your climax. 

He didn’t know what to do with his hands, as the heat inside him continued to grow and he felt lightheaded. His desire was taking over him and he bucked his hips to go deeper inside you with a loud groan. You swore you were seeing stars as he held you in place and started fucking into you with deep, hard thrusts. Your whole body felt like jelly as you let Jaemin take control and you fell into the crook of his neck. 

You sucked on his neck, interchanging with moans every now and then, as Jaemin continued to pound into you. He felt his own orgasm reaching when his strokes started becoming faster and your tits bounced in his face. He took one in his mouth to muffle his moans as he began twitching inside you, triggering yet another orgasm for you. 

“I.. “ You breathed out. “Gonna cum again” You barely let out a whisper and you both finished at the same time. Fireworks flying around the room would be an understatement as you both panted, heavily and your cries of his name filled the space around you. 

As Jaemin’s body went limp, you lifted up your head from his neck to look at his fucked out eyes and he kissed the bottom of your chin. You began to move slowly, as you over stimulated him. 

Whimpers and incoherent sentences fell from his mouth making his constrict on you tighter. 

“Y/N.. please” He looked up at you like a puppy, begging. 

You giggled before stopping and kissed him all over his face. You both sat there, with him inside you like that for a while. Catching your breath and waiting for your heart rates to be stable again. 

“Hungry?” Jaemin said after a while.

“SO BAD.” You exclaimed, making Jaemin smile at you. 

He smacked your ass hard before gently rubbing and playing with it. “Alright, get up and lemme make you something to eat yeah?” 

He placed one last kiss on your lips.