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peachdues · 10 months

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BIRTHDAY SURPRISES — NSFW

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader

A/N: there is nothing redeemable about this. It’s just 7.9k words of pure filth in honor of my man’s birthday.

My husband got a boner reading this, so enjoy you whores.

CW: MDNI • Explicit sexual content • daddy!kink • elevator blowjobs • creampies • rough sex • kinky sex • brat-taming/mild dumbification • overstimulation • fluff at the end followed by more smut • not proof read lmao

Sanemi Shinazugawa has never liked the month of November.

For starters, the stupid month can’t decide what damn season it wants to be. It’s somehow too cold to really qualify as autumn and the leaves have usually fallen to the ground, brown and dead and useless, but it’s also still too warm to snow.

And November is such a tease — smack dab between two great holidays yet offering nothing but a restlessness that persists until the end of the year.

So no, Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t fond of this time of year. But the universe has never shied away from giving him the middle finger, so Sanemi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised his birthday falls during such a bullshit month like November.

He’d been content to spend the day of his birth like he did every other year — hunkered down in his apartment with some cheap takeout, alone, without anyone to make a big fuss about it. That was the plan — his goddamn plan.

So how the fuck did he end up here?

The “here” in question is a suite at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. The room is stuffed full of faces, some familiar but most not, packed together like sardines. The music is loud and pulsing and it threatens to give him a nasty headache.

It was Tengen who convinced him to allow this — though, Sanemi doesn’t suppose he was given much of a choice in the matter. But his friend group learned of his impending birthday a few weeks earlier, and before Sanemi could level a few, well-backed threats against any party planning, Tengen had booked the massive suite in which he now found himself, and promised Sanemi that he wouldn’t have to buy a single drink.

Sanemi agreed only on the condition that he be allowed to book a separate hotel room — several floors below where this godforsaken party now raged.

At least Tengen had meant it when he promised Sanemi wouldn’t have to spend a dime on alcohol. He took care to run up his friend’s tab by ordering several shots of Grey Goose, throwing them back as easily as water.

Hey, it was his birthday, after all.

The hotel suite is a blur of lights and colors and bodies pressed together in dark corners. Truthfully, Sanemi really can’t find any one thing to pay attention to; it’s ironic that this party is supposedly for him, and yet he feels like the most invisible person in the room.

But then he spots you — beautiful, witty, and charming you — seated in the lounge area, surrounded by both shared friends and strangers, and it’s like a spotlight has been pointed directly at you. All else seems to fall away, recessing into the shadows of the room, and his attention is locked solely on you; the star of the show that is his birthday party.

The feelings swirling in Sanemi’s chest are dangerous; lethal. He knows he should look away and accept the fact that you, with your endless pick of eligible women and men, would never deign to chase after someone like him, someone with as many scars on his heart as are seared into his skin. He knows that. He knows he’s only setting himself up to get more pissed off — to hate his birthday more than he already does.

But he can’t stop watching you.

And even if he could, he doesn’t want to. He’s only been in love with you since the moment Shinobu tugged you into a booth at a bar they all frequented. There hadnt really been any room for you to sit — not with seven of them already packed tightly onto the bench — but you’d taken one look at him and grinned, something that could only be described as mischief lighting your eyes.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” You’d asked him sweetly as you plopped your ass right down on his lap. “You look like you’re the comfiest one here.”

Sanemi, who was known for having a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, had been stunned into silence by the presence of a beautiful woman, perched on his knee like it was the most natural thing to sit on a stranger’s lap. His friends had been hard-pressed to suppress their smirks at the way Sanemi gaped at the back of your head, and he was fairly certain it was because you’d been so ballsy that you’d secured a permanent spot in their weekly bar rotation.

That had been over a year ago, and Sanemi’s infatuation with you grew deeper by the day.

Not that he’d ever done anything about it — even though, at times, it felt like you were all but baiting him into acting on his feelings. He wanted to believe the way your eyes followed him wherever he went in a room meant something, that your lingering touches were an invitation for more, but he could never bring himself to find out.

That cowardice, he supposed bitterly, was exactly what led him here, sitting alone at the suite room bar, watching as countless others flirted with you and you, right back.

A few times your eyes had tracked him across the room; one time, you looked as though you were about to push through the throng of people shoved into Tengen’s suite to come talk to him, but a hand on your bicep caught you and diverted your attention.

It’s then that Sanemi snaps. The moment he watches as the asshole in question pulls you against him for a slow grind, that jealous, monstrous thing in his chest rears its ugly head, growling and gnawing to be let free.

He’d hoped, for one pathetic moment, that you would push the man away, shake your head, do something that indicated you weren’t the least bit interested in him, no matter how fascinating his multi-colored eyes were, or how charming his feral grin was, but you didn’t. And the moment he sees the douchebag pull your hips flush against his, Sanemi knows he needs to get some air.

So with less grace than he knows he probably should show, Sanemi shoves his way towards the door leading out the suite and into the hallway.

Fuck it, he decides. He would go back to his room, several floors below, take a shower and hit the fucking hay. His birthday was bullshit, anyways.

He storms towards the elevators, slightly tipsy and certainly angry. He stabs a finger against the down button, his leg bouncing as he waits for the elevator to come and save him from his own party.

“What’re you doing out here, birthday boy?”

His stomach sinks to his ass at the familiar cadence of the voice behind him. Reluctantly, he turns and sees you making your way down the hallway wall, a smirk on your pretty lips and looking downright sinful in that flimsy, silvery dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs.

That damn elevator can’t come fast enough.

“Go back to the party,” he says tightly, though he still won’t look you directly in the eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time.”

You draw up short. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanemi only scoffs and jabs frustratingly at the elevator button, willing for the telltale ding that will allow him to step into the lift and get far the fuck away from this rager he didn’t want.

From you.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” You push, resuming your advance on him and shortening the space between your bodies. “Sanemi —“

“Save it,” Sanemi bites, and because he cannot help himself, he adds, “I just don’t particularly feel like watching you spread your legs for some lowlife asshole who can’t be bothered to remember your name.”

You blink, comprehension dawning on your face before melting to anger. “That’s what you’re so pissy about?”

Sanemi silently begs the elevator to hurry the fuck up, because now you’re only a few feet away from him and he doesn’t want you to see his fraying restraint.

You fold your arms across your chest, hip jutting out to the side. “You’re acting like a bitch because some jackass tried to grind on me? Why do you even care?”

Sanemi dodges your question with ease.

“You’re the one who fuckin’ followed me out here.”

The elevator dings and Sanemi is damn near falling to his knees in gratitude at its timing. The double sliding doors have barely finished opening before he’s already inside, jamming his finger into the button marked 26, praying it’ll move faster than it arrived.

The doors start to close but a pair of hands slam against both sides of the doorway, preventing them from joining in the middle.

You stand in the center of the threshold, eyes bright and nostrils flaring, the elevator doors half-closed around you.

“It wasn’t easy to throw this party together y’know,” you snap at him, and dully, Sanemi thinks the glare you give him is strong enough to wither plants. “Everyone went out of their way to try and make you feel special, but you’ve been nothing but an asshole about it.”

“I didn’t ask you all to do this — I begged you not to,” Sanemi retorts just as hotly, his arms folding across his chest. “I didn’t want a fuckin’ party.”

“Well, what do you want?”

the silence that stretches between you is more telling than any answer he could have given. By the way your lips part, you seem to realize it at the same moment he does, and that’s when Sanemi knows he’s fucked.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, the weight of Sanemi’s unspoken admission hanging above your heads like the sword of Damocles.

But then, the blade drops, and it must impale you both, because suddenly your hands fall from the elevator doors and are tangling in his hair at the same moment Sanemi’s fingers latch onto your waist, and your mouths slam together in a fiery clash of lips and teeth.

The elevator doors slide shut behind you right as Sanemi presses you up against the paneled wall and slides his tongue into your mouth.

At the first stroke of his tongue against yours, you tense, and for one panicked moment, he fears he’s gone too far. But then you’re melting against him, and the way you tug on his hair and whimper his name against his lips makes Sanemi loses his goddamn mind.

Time stands still and there are no thoughts in Sanemi’s brain but the feel of your hands running down his arms, his chest, pushing under the open collar of his shirt to dance along his burning skin.

They can’t get to the 26th floor fast enough, no matter how fast the numbers tick past, bringing them closer and closer to privacy —

The elevator jolts to a stop, somewhere between the 29th and 28th floors, and does not move.

It’s just his fucking luck; the girl of his dreams is pressed flush against him, her lips at his ear as she begs for him, and the goddamn elevator has forgotten how to work. If his hands weren’t so busy pushing under the hem of that slip you call a dress to fondle the curve of your ass, he might’ve put a hole through the one of the doors.

He punches the button for the 26th floor again and again, his sanity fraying with each urgent jab of his fingers, yet the elevator still does not move.

If the idea that the pair of you are stranded in a metal box of death suspended over twenty stories high bothers you, Sanemi wouldn’t be able to tell — not when you’ve decided to turn your attention someplace else.

“What’re you —“ Sanemi’s voice is hardly more than a croak as your hands busy themselves with the buckle on his belt, fumbling and tugging until the leather fastened around his hips gives way.

“Shhh!” A press of your index finger to his lips silences him. “Birthday boys shouldn’t worry!”

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and suddenly they’re following you down as you slide to your knees before him.

Sanemi’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the way your half-lidded gaze drifts from his face down his body, coming to rest on the tent of his briefs, jutting out from between his thighs.

Your voice is syrupy and warm as you whisper, “I guess I should let you have your first gift,”

Sanemi forgets how to breathe when you peer back up at him, your eyes suddenly round and wide; he nearly forgets how to stand when you lean forward and press your cheek against the side of his cock where it strains against his underwear.

Sanemi sucks in sharply through clenched teeth at the sudden rush of cold elevator air against the heated, sensitive skin of his bare cock, your fingers having tugged him free from the confines of his briefs.

“F-first?” He can’t stop the way the question stutters out, not when your lips, just barely gazing against him, drag from his base to his tip. The soft exhale of your warm breath up his length has his hands shooting behind him for something — anything — to grip.

You hum in confirmation, and Sanemi’s vision almost blacks out when your tongue peeks past your glossy, red-stained lips to trail over his leaking head.

“But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get to your room before you can unwrap the next one.”

Sanemi swears he’ll set the entire hotel building on fire if the elevator doesn’t start working in the next fucking minute. His vicious promise, however, fades to the back of his mind, along with every other coherent thought he’s ever had as your lips part around his head and you take him into your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Sanemi hisses and his head falls back against the elevator wall with a dull thump.

You him pleasantly around his cock and Sanemi nearly cums right there, the vibrations from your mouth too sweet, adding gasoline to the already raging inferno of his desire.

At first, you keep your hands primly folded behind you, only allowing your mouth to work his shaft. Every time you slide up off him, you curl your tongue against the underside of his cock and every time, Sanemi has to draw upon every morsel of self-restraint he possesses to not buck further down your throat.

But soon, your hands pat their way to his, and you bring his hands against either side of your head. You hold them there for only a moment, just long enough for Sanemi’s stomach to flip as he realizes what you’re giving him permission to do.

You peer up at him with those big eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, and he knows you’re trying to kill him.“Motherfucking — Y/N,” he moans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck.”

With his grip in your hair secure, Sanemi begins to fuck your mouth. His cock slides in and out of your heat, every push shoving a little more of himself further into your mouth. You only relax your throat, your tongue still curling against the underside of his shaft in a way that makes Sanemi see white.

Sanemi’s hold on your hair tightens. “Fucking take it,” he pants, hips bucking against your face. “My little cock whore.” From his position over you, Sanemi can see the way his words make you squirm with need, your answering moan long, and deep.

Your hands flutter to the side of his thighs, and Sanemi almost winces at the prick of your nails against his skin. But despite the saliva steadily trailing down your chin and the guttural sounds choking in the back of your throat, you’re tugging him closer, your fingers inching around to grip his backside, pressing him closer and closer to you until your nose brushes his groin.

The elevator jolts with movement and resumes its descent, but neither of you notice. All Sanemi can focus on his the way his tip bumps against the back of your throat, and how your cheeks hollow against him as he ruts into your mouth.

Sanemi makes a strangled noise in the vague shape of your name. “I-I’m gonna —“

You only need to swallow around him once before Sanemi is filling your throat with his cum. With a deep groan, his head drops back, his hand splayed across the back of your skull, keeping your nose pressed against his base as he rocks his hips, his cock twitching violently in your mouth.

His eyes fly open when he feels the wetness from your tears against the sensitive skin of his groin, and he’s quick to pull out of your mouth. Your hands bracing against his thighs as you gulp down air in heavy, shuddering gasps.

“Fuck — I’m sorry,” his hands smooth worryingly over your hair. “That was too rough, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-“

Your head snaps up, and Sanemi feels a brief moment of panic at the sight of your mascara, streaked down your cheeks from an onslaught of tears. Bht then you’re smiling at him, a big, triumphant, radiant smile, and Sanemi feels almost as dumb in the head as he had when your mouth was around his cock.

The elevator slows and Sanemi hastily tucks himself back into his pants. The moment his belt is refastened, his hand is on your arm, gently guiding you up to stand right as a ding! sounds, and the doors slide open to reveal the 26th floor.

You step out first, turning back to him expectantly. “Well? What room?”

Sanemi’s heart falls to his ass as he beholds the assured confidence blazing in your eyes. “2602,” he manages to croak.

You tug him out of the elevator and for a few moments, he’s dumbstruck by his good fortune. It almost feels like a dream, that your here, leading him down the winding hallway of this oversized and overpriced hotel, eager to get back to his room and do whatever the hell it is that’s lit that fire in your eyes.

Sanemi’s awe is short-lived, replaced by a crashing wave of need and boiling desire, hot and furiously bubbling under his skin. His hand tightens around yours and he jerks you around, spinning you until you’re caged tightly between the hallway wall and his chest.

His mouth attacks your neck, biting and sucking his claim into your skin, no matter how temporary. Your leg hikes up to hook around his hips, your foot pressed against his calf, and it seems neither of you care that you’re very much still on an open hallway as opposed to the privacy of his hotel room.

“I’m not holding back with you,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat. His hands slide hotly down your sides, fingers toying under the absurdly short hem of your dress, kneading just beneath the curve of your ass. “You asked me what I wanted — I want this. You.”

Your sultry giggle in his ear chokes off as Sanemi’s finger dips under your ass from behind to run firmly over your clothed slit. A breathy fuck falls from his lips as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

“That’s your main gift,” you’re tugging on his hair again until you’ve pulled him away from your throat so that you can slant your mouth over his. “Me. However you want me.”

You take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck, and Sanemi swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “As many times as you want.”

“And in whatever positions you want.”

Sanemi has never been a particularly religious man, but he thinks he’s about one nanosecond from dropping to his knees in worship of you.

Sanemi wastes no time in hauling you over his shoulder, throwing any and all cares to the wind of being seen as he slaps your ass and books the remaining trek back to his hotel room. Youre lucky his room is only around the corner, given that you won’t stop groping his ass.

Somehow, Sanemi manages to fumble for his keycard and swipes it, and he has you inside his room and pushed up against the door before it even fully latches shut.

You’re moaning and panting just from his hands, and Sanemi can feel himself already growing hard once more. His lips are feverish as they roam from your lips, to your neck, and down to the hem of your dress concealing your soft breasts from sight. His hands are even greedier, bunching the tissue-paper-like fabric of you dress between his fingers as he explores the curves and dips of your body.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

From the way your hands drag down his chest, fingers sliding between the undone buttons of his shirt to explore his chest, he knows you’re just as starved as he is.

With a slight whine, you push him back, breaking your kiss. Sanemi looks at you, but the question building on his tongue does as you kick your heels off, your fingers flying to the straps of your dress.

Sanemi feels locked in place by the heat of your gaze, and he swears he can feel his pulse tick in his neck. One by one, you push the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the satiny material fall down your waist and puddle around your feet.

If Sanemi thought he was losing his mind before, he knows for certain that he likely needs to be committed now.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sanemi’s stare is unabashed and gaping. For beneath that flimsy scrap of shiny fabric pretending to be a dress was not your bare skin, but dark green lace and mesh and corset paneling.

A teddy.

You twist slightly so you’re looking over your shoulder, fully exposing your ass and the thong-like back of your one-piece to the slack-jawed birthday boy.

“I figured you would like this one.”

Your words knock Sanemi right off his axis, his head spinning so fast, it’s a miracle it’s still attached to his shoulders.

You’d worn fucking lingerie for his party.

For him.

You’d gone out of your way to wear something you thought he would like on the mere chance you’d end up as you were now, here in his room. You’d planned for it.

You didn’t leave him any other choice; he was going to fucking ruin you.

His hand flies behind his neck to grip his shirt, ripping it over his head and throwing it unceremoniously to the side.

Sanemi doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your pupils blowing wide at the sight of the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.

He kicks off his shoes and his hands shove his pants quickly down his legs, grateful that he hadn’t bothered to refasten his belt or button after the stunt you pulled in the elevator.

“C’mere,” he orders, roughly. Left in just his black briefs, he lunges forward to take you into his arms once more.

Your peal of laughter as Sanemi throws you onto his king-sized hotel bed is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He wastes no time pouncing on you, eager to reconnect your lips, to kiss you until you’re left as breathless and wanting as he is.

Between messy kisses, Sanemi’s hands make their way down your body, squeezing and marveling at the way your body seems made for his touch. And as if the feeling of your skin beneath his palms isn’t enough to drive him wild, you’re so responsive to his touch. Every stroke of his hands seems to bring you alive until you’re practically thrumming with want and begging him for more.

His fingers slide over your lace-covered cunt and he swears at the dampness he feels clean through the fabric of your teddy.

“Eager, are we?” He hums, his lips following down the path he traced with his hands. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your hips buck impatiently against him as his face settles between your thighs. He grins at your desperation, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your inner thigh until he reaches your covered slit.

He lets his tongue peek out between his lips and drags it over until he reaches your other thigh, groaning at the faint taste of you dampening the lace.

Sanemi’s fingers push under the edge of the teddy, a breath blowing past his lips when he connects with your dripping cunt.

“Look how fucking soaked you are,” he says in awe, marveling the way your slick coats his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

You groan, pushing your hips down to grind harder against his hand.

“Just fuck me already,” you huff. “I’m ready now.”

Sanemi tsks softly at you. “You need to ask a lot nicer than that, sweet girl.”

Your impatient demands taper off into soft moans as Sanemi sinks a single finger into your entrance, his cock growing impossibly hard at the feeling of you clenching easily around him.

Sanemi practically trembles at the thought of sinking into your heat, of how you might feel clenching and pulsing around his length while he fucks you the way he’s been dreaming since he met you.

But while he might be pent up, Sanemi isn’t so much of an asshole that he wouldn’t make sure you were good and ready to take him.

So he simply tugs the crotch of your teddy aside and without any further teasing or torture, he latches his mouth to your cunt with a deep moan.

As his tongue darts between your folds, Sanemi realizes that all the cake in the world couldn’t compare to how fucking sweet your pussy tastes.

You cry out, his name stuttering out between a staccato of moans and cooes for more. Your hands twist in his hair, alternating between pulling his face closer to your core and pushing him away, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear.

Sanemi thinks he could get drunk on your taste. His eyes open to watch the way your face pinches, how your jaw goes slack to let his name drip from your tongue.

Your hands unwind from his hair to tug at the sinful draping of lace fitted against your body like a glove. “Off,” you whimper. “Off.”

It takes him a moment to realize what you want. But after another plea of “off,” Sanemi’s hands are already working to push the teddy down your lithe form.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he soothes, dragging the lingerie off your legs. Sanemi swears softly at the sight of you, bare and spread out on his mattress, your body pliant and ready for him to use however he chooses.

“S-Sanemi,” he can’t suppress his grin at the apparent whine in your tone. “I feel so — so empty —“

He doesn’t try to hold in the groan resounding deep from his chest. Youre asking — practically begging — for his cock, and Sanemi doesn’t have the willpower to deny you.

“Fuck this,” he snarls, and suddenly your body is caged under his, his hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of your thighs. “I need to be in you.”

His lips dance feverishly up the side of your neck until they reconnect with yours.

For a moment, your kiss slows to something more sensual and passionate, as opposed to the heated and frantic kisses you’d exchanged earlier. The sigh you exhale against his mouth is the sexiest thing Sanemi has ever heard, and the feeling of your fingers latching in his hair is a sensation he never wants to forget.

Your tongue swipes along his lower lip in a silent request for entry that he’s only too happy to grant. You moan against the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Sanemi knows he’s been head over heels for you for a long time, but the way your tongue dances languidly with his has him utterly undone.

If you wanted to, he’d let you swallow him whole.

Your kiss melts into something more needy and frantic, and Sanemi feels your wetness grind down against his thigh, a pleading whimper building on your lips. With an eagerness that makes his head spin, your legs shift to lock around his waist, and one of the hands you’d had latched in his hair drifts down his abdomen until it finds his cock, heavy and hot in your palm.

“I’ve got a condom —“ Sanemi manages between desperate kisses. “In my wallet —“

But your legs tighten around his hips and your hand pumps harder at his stiffened length. “Don’t need it,” you murmur against his lips. “On the pill.”

Sanemi thinks he might pass out. “Fuck — are you sure?”

You nod, eyes bright and alert even in spite of your sleepy, fucked-out smile. “Wanna feel you, baby.”

Don’t have to fucking tell him twice. Especially not when you’re calling him baby, even if it’s a pet name you’ll only use on him for the night.

With deft hands, Sanemi flips you so that your front is pressed against the mattress. You scramble beneath him to plant your knees, raising your ass high in the air, your cunt held out in an offering he could never refuse.

He gives one of your pert ass cheeks an appreciative smack before he shuffles forward on his knees. He rests one foot on the outside of your leg, parallel with your hip, and slots his other knee between your parted thighs. One hand grips the base of his cock while the other kneads at your hip, holding you steady while also keeping your limbs relaxed as he lines his tip up with your dripping entrance.

“Unless you say otherwise, ‘M goin’ hard,” he warns, his voice rougher than gravel. “Been waiting too long to do this.”

Ever the devilish little minx, you wiggle your hips back against him, and his breath chokes in his throat when your wet heat catches him at his tip.

You look back over your shoulder and Sanemi’s gaze darkens at the challenge in your eyes. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Sanemi decides to respond to your taunt not with his words, but with his body. In a single, fluid movement, he plunges his cock deep into your heated core, his fingers tightening around your hips with bruising force.

“Jesus fuck,” he pants once he’s fully embedded to the hilt inside your warmth.

It’s unreal; the feeling of your silken, pleasure-soaked walls moulding around his cock like you were made to take him sends a bolt lightning surging down his spine, making him shudder.

A cross between a cry and a scream tears from your throat, muffled only by the press of your mouth against the starchy blankets of his hotel bed. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you want him to go slow for a bit since he knows he’s a larger than average. but then you’re throwing your hips back against him, circling and grinding and mewling for more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Fuck me, Sanemi — please.”

“God fucking damn,” Sanemi hisses through clenched teeth. And he knows he can’t deny you, not when your whining so prettily for him; nor when your pussy feels this fucking good.

He draws back, his cock sliding out of you until only his tip remains. He lingers there, for just a hair’s breadth of a moment, teasing.

Your impatient whine doesn’t last long as Sanemi slams you back onto him, the sound choking off in your throat. He doesn’t give you time to recover; he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips and drives his cock into you again and again, pounding a relentless rhythm into you that has you sobbing into the mattress.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You blubber, your fingers fisted into the blankets below for purchase as you push yourself back to meet his frenzied thrusts.

Sanemi can’t tear his eyes away from where his cock, shiny with your wetness, disappears in and out of you. “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well,” he says in awe. Your pussy is gripping him like a vice, practically sucking him back into your heat. “You like letting me use you, huh?”

Sanemi shifts so that his weight is on the knee resting beside your leg, allowing him to push harder and deeper into your cunt. You try to lift your head, but Sanemi’s hand leaves its place on your hip to press down on the back of your neck, squeezing lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” you groaned, voice slightly muffled from where your face was half-pressed into the mattress. “Oh god — just like that — D-daddy, yes —“

Sanemi’s hips stutter. Daddy. No one has ever called him that in the bedroom before, but fuck if it doesn’t somehow make him harder than a fucking diamond.

Especially because it seems like it slipped out of you without much thought, your eyes too busy staring at the back of your skull as every punishing thrust of Sanemi’s cock into your pliant cunt makes your body bounce against the mattress.

He likes it. A lot.

“Should’ve known you’d have a daddy kink, filthy little thing,” he groans, his hand reaching under you to toy with your swollen clit.

You only moan in response, and Sanemi can’t help but to swirl his fingers around that nub, savoring the way it makes your thighs quiver beneath you.

The hand still pressing against the back of your neck slides up to grip your hair, and Sanemi pulls your head up from the bed. “Do you call everyone ‘daddy,’ sweetness, or just those who fuck you the way you like it?”

“Not everyone” you gasp, voice strained against the tight arch of your neck. “Just you — ah! Only you.”

With a growl, Sanemi’s arm locks around your middle and hauls you up until your back is flush against his chest. One hand wraps around your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks to keep your head back as he continues pounding into you.

“Look at you,” his exhales hotly against your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe. “Daddy’s pretty little toy.”

Your thighs quake in their effort to keep you up. Your moans raise an octave, warbling out of your throat as you settle heavily against him, utterly helpless against the pleasure rolling through your body.

Sanemi’s hand drops from your jaw to drag teasingly down your torso. When he reaches your lower belly, he presses his palm flat, the pressure allowing the blunt head of his cock to rub against that sensitive spot that makes you sing his name.

“You feel that, baby?” And the whine that slips out of you is one he wishes he could bottle up. “That’s all me — that’s how deeply I’m fucking you.”

He’s practically holding you up, your limbs little more than jelly, but he doesn’t mind. He only increases the pressure of his hand, rubbing slightly over the softness of your stomach.

“And that’s where I’m gonna fill you up, ‘til you’re nice and full, hm?”

A stilted cry of his name is dragged from your lips, and Sanemi swears he’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let him.

It’s not lost on him that this is likely a one-time thing; that you’ll likely leave his hotel room and the two of you won’t speak of it again, but he can’t find it within himself to give a shit.

It doesn’t matter if this is just a slightly drunken hook up — it doesn’t matter to him if it’s just sex. You’re letting him use your body for his pleasure, and that thought is enough to make his brain turn to liquid between his ears.

Sanemi falls back against the bed, bringing you with him, your back still pressed against his chest. He winds an arm around one of your thighs, holding it open to allow himself to continue fucking up into you with the speed of a racehorse.

“God you’re so fuckin’ tight — don’t want me to leave, do you, precious?”

He chuckles in your ear, catching your lobe between his teeth. His hand wedges between your thighs to play with your clit again, and the way your pussy flutters around him signals that you’re right on the precipice of your orgasm.

The first of the night, if he had anything to say about it.

“Maybe I should make you my own personal cocksleeve — would you like that, sweetheart?” You’re mewling, nodding frantically as you squirm and thrash atop him.

“Would you like to sit on Daddy’s cock all day, keep him nice and warm?”

“Yes!” You sob, and Sanemi’s fingers circle your clit even harder, determined to to make you cum. “Yes, ‘Nemi, please! I’ll be your good girl — I’ll be so good —“

Sanemi’s pace falters slightly at your words, a new idea — a wicked idea, forming fast in his mind. “You will, huh?”

He abruptly pulls out of you, though the anguished cry that rattles out of you at the loss of his warmth tugs at his heartstrings. After all, you’d been so close.

Sanemi wastes no time flipping you under him, hooking both your legs over his muscled shoulders until the underside of your thighs press flat against his chest.

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he shoves his painfully hard cock back into your pulsing warmth, his knuckles turning white under his grip against the rumpled blankets as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling of being sheathed back inside you once more.

“And you’re gonna fuckin’ look at me when i fill you up,” Sanemi snarls between ferocious snaps of his hips. “I wanna see that gorgeous face when I cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

“Yes! Yes s-sir.”

“Yeah? And who’s fucking you this good?”

“Y-you,”

He ducks his head down to nip sharply at your breast. “Try again.”

“You are — D-daddy,”

Sanemi’s pace only increases. “Still not what I’m looking for, princess,” he’s borderline cruel and he knows it, but he also knows what he wants. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

You don’t answer; you can’t, given how slack your jaw has gone, your mouth frozen in a perfect “o” as Sanemi pushes the head of his cock right at that spot deep within you that makes you seize down on him hard enough that he sees stars.

He growls your name and when you still don’t respond, he snaps his hips particularly hard against yours.

“Say it.”

His hand shoves between your bodies, and Sanemi pinches your clit harshly between this thumb and index finger.

“Sanemi!” You wail, writhing under him. His fingers rub soothing circles against your clit, though the relentless thrust of his cock does not ease.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, and the pressure of his fingers against your throbbing nub increases. “Now cum on this fucking cock.”

That does it.

Your back arcs sharply up off the mattress, thighs tightening around his hips as your cunt clenching around him with earth-shattering force. Sanemi feels a smug wave of pride as a surge of fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin.

You fall back against the bed, limp and spent, but Sanemi isn’t done with you yet; you won’t be, not until Sanemi has left his mark.

He shifts over you, his full weight pressing you down into the mattress; his hands pushing your knees up until they’re level with your chest. You sigh and hum, still wading through the haze of your orgasm, but given the way you let your thighs spread a little wider, you’re aware enough to know that Sanemi is readying you to take his release.

It’s not enough; Sanemi doesn’t want you lost in the aftermath of your euphoria — he wants you crying out for his.

His hand grips your face, your cheeks squishing together beneath his fingers as he forces your head to tilt toward him. Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused before the clouds part and your attention is locked wholly on him.

“Beg for it,” he grits out, his hand smacking against your clit until you howled. “Beg for my cum.”

“Please!” Your cry is shrill and desperate, your hands tightening weakly around his shoulders. “Please f-fill me up — oh, Sanemi —“

He nearly loses it at the way you say his name, like it’s some damn prayer and he, your salvation, but he holds back. It’s not enough — he wants you as filthy and wanton as him.

“Use your words,” his words leave him in a single, inexorable command.

Your lower lip wobbles. “Your cum — please, please fill this pussy up. Fill me up, fuck it into me —“

Sanemi cuts off your babbling with a single, bruising kiss. He feels his balls tighten, and the prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, signaling just how close he is to nirvana.

His hand finds one of yours where it clings to his shoulder, a fruitful attempt to anchor yourself, and he pulls it away. Sanemi presses your hand back against the mattress, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Your pussy flutters around him in time with your thumb stroking over his knuckle, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck —“ Sanemi grunts before he feels himself explode. With a strangled yell, Sanemi’s hips slam into yours, pushing his cock as deep as it can possibly go, and his release crashes into him with mind-blowing force.

it’s the hardest and the most he’s ever come in his entire life. Nothing else has ever or will ever compare to this.

But even as his release spurts heavily inside your honeyed core, Sanemi doesn’t relent in his pace. His hips keep rolling steadily into you, prolonging his release to the point his toes curl, and he wonders whether his nose might start bleeding.

The corners of your mouth tilt up, a pleased groan vibrating loud and wanton in your throat as you feel him fuck his hot seed right into the Eden of your body.

Despite the mind-numbing pleasure of his orgasm, Sanemi won’t let himself look away. The face you make as he fills you up is the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

Sanemi stays buried in your heat for several more moments as he comes down from his high, his head dropping into the crook of your shoulder. With a grunt, he pulls out, dropping down next to you in a flurry of messy blankets and pillows.

You push yourself to your side, a hand coming to push the sweat-dampened ends of his bangs from his eyes. “Good birthday?” You tease, your cheeks flushed bright red, your eyes bright.

“The best,” Sanemi agrees, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail of you and your post-sex glow to memory.

The two of you lay next to one another for a little while, talking and quietly laughing. Neither one of you seems eager to leave the bed, and Sanemi in particular finds himself hoping today never ends.

Eventually, nature calls and he excuses himself — reluctantly — to the bathroom. When he emerges, he’s greeted with the sight of your ass, bare and exposed as you nestle into the bed, one leg kicking lazily up into the air behind you.

Fuck, you’re too beautiful, and he is far too weak.

He approaches the side of the bed, stretching out one hand to drag teasingly down your spine, until he reaches your ass, knuckles kneading the soft flesh.

His eyes flit to the small clock perched on the hotel nightstand. Sanemi’s grin turns lupine as he reads time reflected by the green-tinted digits.

Sanemi’s fingers skirt down to your ankle, gripping it firmly in his hand. He tugs you over the side of the bed until your head dangles off the edge, your hair stretching towards the ground. “Looks like it’s still my birthday, darling. I ain’t finished enjoying my present yet,” he grips the base of his half-hard cock and taps it against your lips. “And I’ve been dying to cum all over this pretty face of yours.”

—-

True to his word, Sanemi takes him time ravishing his birthday gift. When the clock on the nightstand finally reads 12:01 AM, he flops down next to you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath.

You lay beside him, panting in tandem with him from the exertion of the night’s activities. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t sticky as a result of the heady mixture of your sweat and Sanemi’s cum.

You feel his eyes searing into you as you trail a finger through the milky white splattered across your chest — a favorite place of his to cum, as you’d learned, second only to spilling inside of you.

Sanemi hardly holds back a whimper at the way you bring it to your lips, letting your tongue lick your finger clean of his pleasure.

“You’re trying to drive me wild, woman,” he throws a tired arm over his face, shrouding his eyes. “You torture all your hookups like this?”

He’s surprised at how quickly you sit up in bed, your eyes flashing.

“Hookup?”

Sanemi props a fist under his cheek. “Well, yeah,” he winces slightly, searching for more careful words. “I don’t expect anything from you. I appreciate the birthday surprise, though.”

Your gaze is leveled, and your voice even. “I don’t buy lingerie for one-night stands, Sanemi. That shit is an investment.”

His eyes blow wide, and he feels the erratic thrum of his heart stuttering in his throat.

“I want you,” you say firmly. “And I had every intention when I followed you in here tonight for this —“ your hand waves back and forth between your chests. “— to continue.”

It’s a miracle Sanemi is able to speak at all. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grin. “Well, now that you’ve fucked me, I guess you should take me on a date.” You pause, trailing one delicate finger down his chest. “But I won’t make you wait until we’ve been on three before I let you fuck me again.”

Your hand dips below the edge of the blanket and glides teasingly over his cock, already beginning to stir once more. “You’re far too delicious.”

Sanemi snatches your hand and rolls you under him before you can blink, your answering giggle the sweetest music ever to grace his ears.

“Y’know, in other parts of the world, it’s still the 29th,” he murmurs huskily, grazing his lips against yours. “So by that logic…”

You nod, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. “We’re obligated to keep celebrating.”

Sanemi’s lips are already trailing down your body, savoring the taste of himself on your skin. He settles back between your legs, marveling at the way your thighs fall to the side so easily to accommodate his mass.

He presses a sweet kiss against your clit. “You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you, darlin’?”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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gojoidyll · 10 days

Text

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 6 | No Law, But His

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

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As soon as your head hit the pillow, it seemed like it was already time to get up and get ready for your day out with Jing Yuan, and honestly… you were nervous. Your whole body would erupt into shivering fits as you would steadily get ready and put on a dress suitable for the cold night air. And as soon as your hair was fixed and Blade announced himself, it was already time to go.

Though, even as he let himself in, something felt off with the guard. You could tell. But… you weren’t exactly sure what it was. And it wasn’t like you could ask him either. You weren’t close to the man at all, nor did you care to find out anything else about him either. Well, mainly because he and that damn Vidyahara are forcing you to steal from the emperor.

“You should be careful tonight, princess.”

He was carefully walking you down the stairs in slow deliberate steps. You frowned at his words and looked up at him.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The emperor…,” he paused and shook his head, “the emperor is dangerous. One wrong move and he will see through your façade with ease.”

“You and Dan Heng keep telling me that, but just let me do my thing, ok? I can handle it.”

There it was again. That off feeling, but now it didn’t feel like it was coming from Blade but from somewhere else, so you stopped and looked around for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

You tried to see if someone was following, but found no one, “it’s nothing…just my imagination, I guess.”

You turned back around and grabbed onto Blade’s arm to hold yourself steady. Once at the bottom however, Jing Yuan was already found waiting for you. His warm smile unsettled you slightly.

“My love.”

His voice was so warm, it made your heart skip, but you steeled yourself. He was playing with you, you knew this. He never acted like this before. That much was for sure. Letting go of Blade’s arm, you gently took a hold of Jing Yuan’s hand.

“Blade, you can retire for the day. Your presence won’t be needed.”

The sudden order caught him off guard, but he begrudgingly agreed to it nonetheless. The princess was on her own. Bowing to you and to Jing Yuan he dismissed himself. And you could only watch your guard leave you here to fend for yourself.

“Don’t worry Princess, I won’t bite you,” Jing Yuan’s soft chuckle shouldn’t have been as soothing as it was. But you couldn’t deny how it managed to slow your rapidly beating heart.

“Of- of course, Emper- Jing Yuan.”

He patted your hand gently as he led you to the massive front door of his castle. The last time you had seen this big door was when you were forcefully taken here as his future wife… It still seemed so unreal that he was letting you walk with him outside of-

You paused at the thought.

Blade wasn’t joining you, you both will probably be going into town, which means… I can escape!

You managed to hide your smile as you gently leaned in closer to the Emperor.

It will be sad to not be able to go back to your home, but your father had given you away to begin with so what was the point in going back? Why not make a new life elsewhere far far away from the Emperor’s intimidating gaze? He owned this whole country, but he only ever leaves the capital for war campaigns. And you always wanted to see snow, so you could always travel far to his nation’s border close to the north in the countryside and start a life there.

Living your own life didn’t sound so bad. No Blade, no dan heng, no jing yuan. Just you. And a new life!

The walk into town was a short one, one that quickly brought you out of your daydreaming stupor. And as expected there were a plentiful of people bustling around. And Jing Yuan looked to be focused on the crowd careful to avoid any stray pickpockets or would-be assassins. And the farther you both traversed into the town’s square made your heart immediately become erratic. Your eyes watching for any clear sign of escape until…

There!

Yanking your hand from his grip you dashed in between the throngs of people. Luckily you chose a more plain looking dress that could match the high society girls of the capital and not that of a princess, so you could blend right in.

Dashing in-between people, you thought you were getting away, wel, until you felt a tight grip on your forearm and a sudden pull, and all too quickly you found yourself thrown into an alley way. The people around, as busy as they are, didn’t even notice.

“Running away?”

The man looked unfamiliar to you, but everything about him screamed “assassin”.

“Moze. Good, you caught her.”

Your eyes widened when you turned your head to see Jing Yuan enter the alley. His hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted slightly up so he was looking down at you, and his eyes…his eyes were glowing a bright, striking yellow. You stumbled back with each step forward he took, and soon found yourself tumbling to the dirty ground.

“E- emperor.”

He made a tut sound, “I asked you to call me Jing Yuan, remember?”

He crouched down in front of you as Moze went to go block the alley way’s entry.

“That was really bad of you, you know. Staging your little amnesia incident. For a moment, I would of believed your act, but want to know what gave you away?”

He didn’t wait for you to nod as he reached out and caressed your cheek ever so gently.

“It was Blade. He looked so protective of you. Then again, it wasn’t like he would protect you in the end. One simple order from my lips and he’s obeying like a loyal dog. Now…,” his hand stopped caressing you and instead reached for the back of your neck, and ever so harshly he pulled you forward so your faces were mere inches apart. The position made your neck ache. Your hands could only bunch up in your dress as you didn’t want him to see them shaking so uncontrollably.

“Why? Why create such an elaborate plan princess?”

You bit your lip. There was nothing you could do but answer him. He could kill you at nay moment. Running was never an option it seems.

He was prepared.

“I wanted to get out of this engagement with you. You- you took me from my home. And even when you brought me here all you do is scheme, and plan, and take, and mess around with those maids. I’ve become a laughingstock. Though, to be honest, I could care less about the maids and servants laughing at me because at the end of the day I was just a hostage princess with nowhere to go. I thought if I could lose my memories somehow, then you wouldn’t be interested in some useless, dumb, broken girl.”

“And Blade and Dan Heng’s involvement?”

“They wanted me to steal a key from you. That was all. They said that once I did that, I would then steal a key from my father, and then and only then will I be free.”

Jing Yuan merely chuckled, “and moze… what do you think?”

“I think she is just a naïve little girl.”

“And?”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that she tried to deceive you.”

Jing Yuan let go of your hair and stood back up. His lightning blade materializing into his hand.

“Your honesty will be cherished, princess, but your crime against me will not go unpunished. But for you, it will be freeing. Death will release you from the engagement with me.”

You couldn’t stop your tears then, your eyes looking up to him, “death is the only way? And what crime? I just wanted to go home!”

Jing Yuan chuckled again, but his laugh did not soothe you like before, “foolish princess. There is no law that emperors must be fair.”

And when he raised and swung his blade down onto you, you wished… you wished that there was someone…anyone who could give you a second chance.

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

#hsr #honkai star rail #emperor jing yuan x princess reader #emperor jing yuan #hsr emperor jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan hsr #emperor jing yuan x reader

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struniolos · 9 months

Text

guitar lessons.

chapter two: meddle about.

(you can read chapter one here!)

synopsis: you decided to take guitar lessons from your boyfriend nate’s best friend, chris, while he’s away at college. but one night, things go too far. loosely based off the song sex by the 1975.

warnings: smut! minors do not interact.

“what did you yesterday baby?” nate’s voice hums through the phone, as you cuddle up into your bedsheets.

you rambled to him about everything, how you’d gone to buy a gingerbread house to make with your friends, how you bought a new coat, everything other than what was gnawing at you. chris. you tried your best to act as you usually did, but made an effort to bounce the questions back to him so you didn’t have to talk about yourself.

“so, when are you coming to visit me?” you said, biting your lips.

“i’ve got to study for finals next week, so i’m probably not for another two weeks.” nate told you, making your heart sink.

the less you saw him, the more you felt yourself drifting away from him. it was a gut wrenchingly awful feeling, guilt bubbling beneath the surface of your body. in everything you did, you felt it.

you sighed into the speaker. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too, baby.” nate told you. “well, i’ve got training in the morning so i should go, but we’ll talk soon. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you said quietly, holding your face in your hands.

as the phone call came to an end, you found yourself curled in a ball under the covers. it was almost 8pm, when you agreed to meet with chris. but your heart was telling you not to go, that this was an awful idea. because it was, you had just told your boyfriend how you loved him moments before meeting up with his best friend. you decided to message chris.

you: i’m not coming, i’m sorry.

he typed back instantly.

chris: why? we can just chill :(

you: it’s too cold. i just want to stay in bed.

you try and weasel your way out of the gate you’ve opened, to step back as if you weren’t the one also engaging in this.

chris: what if i came to pick you up?

you bit your lips, sighing.

you: fine.

about an hour later, you look out your bedroom window to see the familiar black van out the front of your house, it’s headlights illuminating the icy road thats caked in snow at the curb. you grab your hoodie and put on your slippers, sneaking down the staircase to not disturb your parents as they would know damn well it wasn’t nate.

you tiptoed your way out the front door, walking the snowy path towards the van. chris had already reached over to open the door for you, and you felt yourself getting flustered. you jumped into the van, closing the door firmly behind you and looking over at chris, his hair dark and loose, his silver necklace stark against his black crewneck.

“hey.” he smiled, putting the car into drive.

“hey.” you said shyly, biting your cheek. “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see.” chris shrugged, with one the hand on the wheel and the other propped up against the window.

you felt an unbearable weight on your chest, something urging you to stop. to tell him to turn around and take you home. but there was something about him, something that you couldn’t fight. nate was the safe option, you knew that, but chris- chris was dangerous.

the radio was on quietly, the hum of the engine and icy roads filling your ears. you both didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, in complete silence within each other’s company. you wondered if chris was thinking about nate, or if he was selfishly wanting you all to himself.

eventually, you were parked at a lookout spot at the hilled part of the neighbourhood, looking out to the thousands of houses below only specks of yellow light against the darkness. you were shielded by woods, away from prying eyes.

chris parked the car, pulling the handbreak and leaning back in his chair. he looked over at you, his eyes dark.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, chris.” you said softly, breaking the silence. “i shouldn’t be here.”

“but you came.” he opposed, rubbing his face- his chain bracelet falling down his veined arm. you found yourself eyeing his fingers too, long and slender, the dimmed light carving out his features.

chris was the one to make the first move, shifting his hand to your thigh as he held eye contact with you. “why did you leave yesterday?”

“because it’s wrong and we shouldn’t be…i shouldn’t be doing this.” you said with pleading eyes.

chris continued rubbing your thigh. you don’t stop him. he leaned over to grab your face with his other hand, his finger tracing your warm cheek and lips, his thumb prying your mouth open.

“after you left, did you go home and touch yourself thinking about me?” he murmured, looking at you though hooded eyelids.

you hated how much you loved this, how much you revelled in his forbidden touch. you knew he wanted you to suck on his fingers but you didn’t, simply kissing the pad of his thumb. “no.”

“hmm.” he hummed, grabbing your cheeks with one hand, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he squeezed them together to pout your mouth. “i did.”

you clenched your thighs together, as he kissed you deep. you moaned into his mouth, as his tongue came to lick into yours. it was messy, all teeth and tongue. you never did this with nate, it was always so straightforward. you guessed this was why chris was so enticing- he was everything nate wasn’t.

“come over here.” he whispered, grabbing your hips to help you. he pushed the seat backwards to give you both more space, as you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him.

you rubbed your palms down his shirt, breathing heavily. “what happened to teaching me guitar?

“i’m teaching you something else.” he smirked, kissing you again, this time slower.

you pulled away briefly. “and what would that be?”

“how to feel good.” he flirted, kissing the corner of your mouth, his hands greedy as he squeezed your hips and groped your behind.

“my boyfriend makes me feel just fine.” you told him, trying to elicit a reaction.

but chris didn’t react, instead looking you directly in the eyes as he tilted his head as he dipped a hand below your sweatpants. “if he did, why did you come to me?”

your lips fall apart as he began to rub circles through your panties, your sensitive bundle of nerves pulsating at his touch. your lips found each other, tongues dancing and hot air spilling from your nose as your breathing picked up. he moved your underwear to the side, his fingers collecting your slick.

“i dreamed about this.” chris told you, as he began to push his ring finger inside your velvet walls.

“you did?” you breathed, bracing your hands on his shoulders.

he kissed your cheek sloppily. “mhm, about how good you’d feel.”

you moaned at the feeling of his finger fully seated inside you. fuck, it had been so long. chris pumped his finger in and out of you a few times before adding another, your vision blurring and body heating up.

“c’mon pretty girl.” he urged you, as his fingers curled and beckoned you towards your orgasm.

you moaned raggedly into his mouth, your hips starting to grind up and down. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand on the small of your back guiding you as he fingered you deep sent you over the edge embarrassingly quickly. you moaned and squirmed in his lap, a complete mess. he coerced your release through small praises and kisses, holding you close to his chest. chris brought his fingers to his mouth to suck clean, locking eyes with you- it was lewd, but ridiculously hot.

“i want to be inside you.” chris confessed, his lips attaching to your neck to suck bruises into your skin.

“chris.” you protested, but he continued to assault your neck, his other hand coming to cup your ass, moulding it against his hand.

“i can take care of you better than him.” he uttered, now squeezing your breasts with both hands, kneading and palming them.

you felt your pussy flutter, your core coming in contact with his hardness. you ground down onto him, the friction euphoric. “show me.”

between kisses and whispers, chris assisted you in ridding yourself of your hoodie, and pulling your sweatpants off. he tossed them into the backseat, as well as tossing his crewneck and tshirt off and shimmying down his own sweatpants, so they sat at his thighs. you continued to grind yourself down on his hardness, both of you moaning and breathing heavily at the feeling.

you couldn’t do this to nate, this would completely change things. this would break you. you knew if you continued, that there was no going back. but it just felt so good.

chris kissed the valleys of your breasts, pulling your bra down so it hung at your hips, as he continued to suckle on each one, toying with the other with his free hand. you moaned heavily, the feeling of his warm mouth and breath on you too much. chris pulled away with a wet pop, leaving your nipples peaked and wet.

“i want you to spit on my cock before i fuck you.” he instructed, and you did as you were told.

you pulled down his boxers to let his weeping cock spring free, letting it slap against his stomach. you licked your lips, as you held it in your hands, the warm weight of it enough to send you over the edge. he was definitely bigger than nate, girthier too- you knew it was going to hurt. you spit on your hand, before coating it all over his cock like lube. chris threw his head back, groaning and bucking his hips up into your hand.

chris stopped you, placing his palm on your chest. he sat himself upright, as you hovered your hips above him. he pushed your soaked panties to the side once more, rubbing the red tip of his cock against your opening. you both indulged in the feeling, pushing your lips together and your breath mingling as one.

“want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” he growled.

“please.” you pleaded, feverishly kissing him.

“you think i can fuck you better than your boyfriend?” he dares, licking behind your ear and continuing to rub the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

you shudder, biting your lips to you conceal your answer as your pussy throbs. yes, you think to yourself.

chris grabs your hips, leaving crescent moons in your flesh from his nails as he guides you. you let out an embarrassing desperate moan as you sink yourself down onto him, seated perfectly in his lap. he’s only halfway in, and the stretch is much more than you’re used to. or maybe because it had been so long? was it because he was bigger than nate? your mind buzzed with thoughts. thoughts of your boyfriend. here you where, with his best friends dick inside of you- and it turned you on much more than you’d admit to yourself.

chris kissed you sloppily as he helped you seat yourself completely on him, your pussy swallowing him whole. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. you felt so full, so content. you hadn’t felt this...ever.

without much time to adjust to his size, chris began thrusting his hips up into you, filling you to the hilt. you gasped and grappled onto him, anywhere you could, his hair, his shoulders, the car seat behind him. he was relentless.

“i’ve wanted to do this for months.” he whispered, grabbing a fist full of your hair and using it to pull your head back, giving him full access to your neck and chest.

all you could do was moan in response, as his hips snapped up into you at a reckless pace. he licked up your throat, and dipped his fingers into your mouth. you gagged on them, saliva dripping down your chin. it was filthy and messy and so fucking hot. you had never experienced anything like it.

“do i fuck you better than your boyfriend? huh?” he growled, as you began to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your release.

“mhm” you muffled, his fingers dropping from your mouth.

“what was that?” he taunted, a devilish smile daunting over him.

you almost felt like you were going to split in half with the pace and force he was fucking into you. tears were almost pricking your eyes, everything just felt so good.

“yes, yes chris.” you cried, a blubbering mess as he grabbed your hips tighter to pound into you.

you grabbed his face with both hands, kissing him full of tongue and saliva. everything was becoming blurred, your thoughts of nate a distant memory as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. your toes began to curl, your face contorting and a high pitched squeal -you didn’t know you were capable of- coming from within you.

“fuck oh my god!” you shuddered, your body beginning to convulse and shake around him, clutching onto his sweaty body tighter.

you felt your release come quicker than you’d have liked, with chris’ thrusts becoming more languid as he helped you ride out your high. his hair was stuck to his forehead, his cheeks and chest flushed red. his eyebrows knit together and lips parted as he followed close behind you, shooting his hot juices into you. you let your forehead fall to his shoulder, breathing heavily and your body shuddering.

you both sat for a while, catching your breath, with chris still deep inside you. you raised your head, looking at him with saddened eyes, pushing his hair from his face.

chris pouted at you, scrunching his nose. “what?”

“i cant believe we did that. that…that shouldn’t have happened.” you tell him softly, as the weight of the situation finally sunk in.

you had cheated on nate.

“he won’t know.” chris assured you, rubbing slow circles on your bare back.

you shook your head. “but what if he finds out.“

“he won’t.” chris said firmly, looking at you with a seriousness you weren’t used to. “same time tomorrow?”

you rubbed your forehead, looking at the man before you. he was gorgeous, all fucked out and blissful, lips kissed and hair mussed. how could you say no?

“okay.”

taglist;

@creamoncreamoncream @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sofiasnookiee @goandcomebsck @chrisluvbot @arizonaicedtealoverrr @lustfulslxt @s1urnioloslvr @meme2003 @starsturniolo

#sorry this took so long #it’s been a hell of a week #anyway i’m not very happy w this but thought i’d post it anyway #lmk if u guys want another part!#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo x you #guitar lessons

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mermaidgirl30 · 5 months

Text

✨Stay in the Light✨

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a one shot based off the song “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron for a while, and I finally got some inspiration yesterday to write this little piece. Hope you like it 🩵 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for being my beta reader before I decided to release this out to the world 💕

Summary: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and he’s wishing he could’ve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: Outbreak! Joel, Jackson! Joel, blood, angst, comfort, feelings, regrets, in both reader and Joel’s POV, no deaths, fluff (I am bad at tags, so let me know if I should add anything)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“When the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we met”

- “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron

The ground is cold, wet, unwelcoming with a thick puddle of crimson blood pooling beneath his worn green flannel. Large flecks of powdered snow lace through his grey threaded curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. His vision blurs, going in and out in waves as pain takes hold of his insides. He can hear Tommy screaming in the near distance, his deep voice sounding like it’s washed out beneath a wave of deep water. He can barely register it, barely hear anything, but what he does see is a bright light, an angel in disguise. He sees you.

You. The girl he should’ve been more careful with. Your feelings, your heart, your everything. He was such an asshole ever since the first day you came walking through the front gates of Jackson. He should’ve been nicer, shouldn’t have yelled at you over petty things that were his doing and shouldn’t have thrown insults your way when you were just trying to help on every patrol you were assigned to with him.

Maybe if he would’ve been fucking nicer then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. A clean gunshot to the abdomen, now bleeding out on the thick white snow beneath him. Raiders. He wasn’t being careful, wasn’t paying attention. No, he was fucking fixed on arguing with you. Maybe he deserves it, maybe if he wasn’t such a grouch all the time then maybe none of this would’ve fucking happened. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve you. Warm, bright, gentle, kind. He was none of those things, so why the fuck were you still sitting here with him, keeping him from slipping into the thick fog of darkness?

“Joel! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” Your voice is so adamant, so terrified, so hurt. And it fucking kills him, destroys him. “Tommy! Help him!”

Joel sees the gathering tears that burn through your beautiful eyes, sees the absolute horror that’s coated through your knit together eyebrows, sees the pain of holding it all together just like you always do. Always so brave. His brave girl…. NO. You’re not his to keep, not his to hold, not his to tell everything’s going to be alright. You weren’t his and never would be. Not after the way he’s treated you.

He wishes you were his, but you’re not, and it’s his own damn fault for being so reckless. He should’ve been softer, more kind, like you. He should’ve done so many things, should’ve told you just how he felt. How much he likes you, how much he…

He winces in pain as Tommy presses down on the open wound, barely holding himself together to even keep his eyes open, but he fights. He fights for you. The girl he so desperately fell in love with over the last year, the girl he wished he treated differently. He should’ve fucking told you, but now it’s too late. It’s all too late.

“Hey, hey. Joel, look at me. Look at me!” You grab the sides of his face, sink your delicate fingers into the scruff of his greying beard, and cling to him just enough to where maybe he won’t slip through your fingers. You can’t lose him, you can’t.

“Joel, open your eyes. Please, keep them open for me.” You shake his head lightly, kneel over him and let your hair fall in a heap at your side as you pray for one more day with him. “Joel…”

Your voice is so sad, so desperate as you call out for him. He sees your face blur in his spotty vision, sees the glistening tears start to spill down your face. So he reaches up, musters up enough strength to wipe away the falling tears that stain your beautiful face. He thinks you’re so gorgeous, always has. Ever since you walked into his life, he knew. He knew he’d fall, and that’s why he pushed away so strongly. He didn’t want to lose you, he never wanted to. But now you were the one losing him…

He holds the side of your face for just a few more seconds, just enough to finally know he got you, some part of you, if only for a minute. And that was enough for him. At least he knew what it was like to feel your soft skin slipping under the weight of his calloused fingers. That moment alone was all he wanted.

He starts to close his eyes, starts to fade away into the midst of darkness and silence, but he hears you plead to stay in the light. “Stay in the light, Joel. Stay with me. Stay,” you beg. And he carries those words into the darkness with him. And then there’s nothing but the fading words of a promise he never could keep.

Stay in the light.

He awakes slowly, hearing the buzzing sound of some medical machine he doesn’t know the name of. Slowly but surely his eyes open as the harsh light from the blinding window slips against the warm sheets of the sterile bed. It takes him a second to come to himself, to know he’s not dead.

He looks cautiously down at his exposed torso, finding the tight bandage wrapped around his wound. It’s clean, mended to, but the pain burns through his body. Every breath he breathes feels like fire in his lungs, but at least he knows he’s alive.

He feels warmth sliding through his fingertips, feels comfort bubble over his entirety. He wonders what it is, wonders what thing could ever bring him comfort until he slowly turns his head and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, fingers laced through his while your thumb gently glides side to side in slow circles on the back of his rough hand.

His eyes go wide, eyebrows knit together as he stares wondrously at the girl he’s been pining over since the day he locked eyes on you. You look so goddamn beautiful there with your fingers threaded through his. He can feel it deep in his gut, that fluttering feeling he’s always tried so hard to push back down, but this time he can’t. He won’t. He can’t ignore the voices anymore that scream your name every single night he’s in between his sheets, wishing he could just have a chance to hold you, to feel you pressed against his firm chest. And maybe he would. One day. Maybe he still had time to make you his.

You hear a faint rustling sound in the sheets and turn your face slightly to the left, expecting it to only be your vivid imagination. Your jaw drops suddenly and your eyes go wide the moment you see Joel awake, breathing, alive.

“Joel!” You turn frantically and crowd his body, locking your arms tight around the back of his neck as you inhale his deep mahogany and pine cone scent.

“Ouch, take it easy!” Joel pants out as you jump back, realizing you might’ve hurt him with your body weight.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” you ask as you assess his wound, running your fingers lightly over the bandaged area. He winces a little as you smooth out the edges, but he just hums in response.

“I’m fine. Jus’ calm down, will ya?”

You gently smile at him and brace your hands on the fitted sheets, just barely grazing your skin over his warm, sweaty body. Your eyes scan over his bare chest as you take in the coarse hair that covers his broad chest, watching the way the cool sweat glazes over tanned skin. You think he looks so beautiful, even after a gunshot wound. You’ve never seen him bare chested, and it surprises you what it makes you feel inside. Warmth.

“You came back to the light,” you whisper out, grazing your fingertips across the back of his hand as he stares wide-eyed at you, honey eyes so intense that you swear they’re about to split you in half. “I was so scared, Joel. You scared me half to death!”

He just watches you, eyes wading into yours like a violent tidepool about to drag you into the crashing waves, but there’s a fondness to them, a slight gleam in his eyes as he assesses you. Slow, curious, eyes that look like they might shed a tear.

“You… you saved my life today.” His tone is somber, his honey eyes wild as you see tears lick the surface, but he won’t dare shed them. Not in front of you. That’d be too vulnerable.

“Mhm. If Tommy wasn’t there, I don’t know how I would’ve ever gotten you up on that saddle alone. But we did it. We made it in time. I was so scared we were too late. You weren’t… you weren’t really breathing. Even the doctor was worried you wouldn’t make it. You’re a… well, a miracle.”

His face turns pale, lips parted solemnly as he breathes and lets oxygen back into his tired lungs. “Why did you save me?”

His words surprise you as you furrow your eyebrows and shift your weight slightly on the bed so you’re facing him. “What do you mean?” Your words come out shaky, appalled. What did he mean why did you save him?

“Why did you save me?” His honey eyes bore into yours, fingers flexing around the white sheets as he just stares with flared nostrils.

You place a hand gently on top of his warm hand as he tries to pull away, but you don’t let him. “Because I think you’re worth saving.”

His plush lips tremble, his eyes blowing wide as he takes in your quiet words. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he’s fighting with himself in his mind, but he just stares unblinking, taking in the soft way you look at him.

Finally, he clears his deep voice and rasps out a response. “I’m not worth saving.” His eyes look so sad, defeated, and you wish you could take away all his pain. Physical and emotional, you’d take it all on if it meant he could have one single day where he didn’t wear the weight of the entire world on his tired back.

You lean forward as you hear the creak of the old bed and place your hand gently on his bare chest, feeling the bristles of coarse dark hair running down his tanned skin. “I think you are, Joel.”

He gulps, arms fidgeting beneath you as you see him fight with himself, battling the demons of reaching out or letting you slip through his grasp. He finally finds the courage to slowly, steadily crawl his hand up the side of his chest, then ever so softly places it on top of yours.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bein’ a jerk to you the past year. I was a real asshole, and there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. I think about it every single night, think about how I should’ve done better, how I should’ve tried harder because I… I…” Joel winces in pain as he tries to sit up, but you push him back down easily and try to get him to stay still.

“Hey, careful there. It’s okay, Joel. It’s…”

“No, please let me finish.” You nod your head and he continues with a low grunt through gritted teeth. “I should’ve been nicer to you. And I want to apologize for everything I’ve ever done, every hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you. I didn’t mean it, not really. I’ve jus’… I’ve been goin’ through a lot, but that’s no excuse. Because I should’ve told you how I felt about you, not pushed you away. You see, the thing is… well, thing is I like you, darlin’. A lot. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and those eyes, that smile. I…”

You cut him off as you lean forward and crash your lips into his, letting his warmth overwhelm you as you slip into him. His tongue tastes like coffee, his skin smells of freshly cut firewood, and he feels so good in the palm of your hand. He surrounds you in something like warmth, ecstasy, something you’ve wanted to feel for so long. He glides his thick fingers through your hair and pulls you closer as he gets lost in you, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell, hear, feel is him. It feels so right, this feels right. You almost forget he’s injured until he grunts and shifts his weight to the right.

You quickly let go of the kiss and lean back, assessing if he’s alright, but he’s smiling. Warm, bright, glowing. You’ve never seen him like this, like he’s the happiest man in the world. It’s that twinkle in his chocolate irises that gets you, and you finally know that this is where you belong. In Jackson, with him.

He guides a strand of hair behind your ear and cups the side of your face as his warm, calloused thumb grazes gently across your cheekbone. “You kept me in the light, sweetheart. You’re exactly what I needed all along, I jus’ wish I didn’t wait so long to find the light.”

You sigh and smile. “It’s okay, Joel. You found it. You found me.”

“You gonna keep the light on for me, sweetheart?”

“Forever, if you want me to.”

He pulls you back in and grazes lightly over your lips as he whispers out, “Forever it is.”

Tagging some friends who might be interested 💛 @sawymredfox @burntheedges @littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @vivian-pascal @rav3n-pascal22 @princesatracionera @bbyanarchist @amyispxnk @pedrostories @syd-djarin @msjarvis @untamedheart81 @survivingandenduring

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel x f!reader #post outbreak joel #outbreak!joel #jackson!joel

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blackypanther9 · 8 months

Text

How they met

WARNING!: Mention of abuse, bullying, cursing, attempt of suicide, mention of sexual abuse (Really just mentioned, nothing graphic), mention of murder AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: All these warnings are because I am mentioning M/n’s past. Don’t worry, it happened, most will just be mentioned and Alastor will be there for him. Besides the attempt of S...that is because of something else. But I won’t spoil the Oneshot ! Enjoy !

Words: 5 530

It was cold and it was getting dark. M/n was freezing. His parents abandoned him, saying he was just a burden and then left him in some alley. Now he was in a big forest, lost, cold, hungry and thirsty…with a Murderer on the loose.

He lived in New Orleans, Louisiana and the Bayou Killer was making himself very known. M/n knew that he was fucked if the Killer chose him next and that he is lost in a forest doesn’t help either. He was only 6 years old damn it.

CRUNCH.

M/n stopped dead in his tracks and hid behind a tree. As he peaked out he saw a man with a gun in his hand. It looked like a Hunter’s gun. M/n gulped.

‘What choice did I have…?’

He stepped out of his spot and then ran over into the man’s direction. Just then he saw a smile on his face. It looked…off but also very welcoming at the same time…

“Sir ?! Sir ! Excuse me !”, the little boy yelled.

His voice was very hoarse and shaky, but the male seemed to have heard him, because he stopped and turned to the boy’s direction.

M/n was so glad to have found someone that could, maybe, help him. He sped up but yelped as he felt his legs go numb and he fell into the snow face first, shivering even more.

‘Great… I’m a fucking pathetic excuse of a kid…’

He heard footsteps coming closer and soon he saw the gun being put aside. M/n tried to use his arms to get up, but they were just as numb as his legs and they gave out.

“Calm down, little one. How long have you been out here ? How did you even get here ?”, the man asked worried slightly, trying to help him up.

“I don’t know how long I have been out here… I just know it was before I had Lunch… My parents abandoned me because I am a burden and now I am here. I got lost… I just wanted to look around and then I saw a fawn and followed it to its Mom and then…I was lost.”

The male tried to make the boy stand, while he listened, but he noticed quickly that the boy’s limbs were very numb from the cold. He wasn’t dressed properly. He was in a thin pullover, some pants and had normal shoes on. He was surprised that the boy even made it so far.

“You are all frozen up… C’mon, I will take you to my house and we will warm you up.”

“Okay… What is your name, Sir ?”

“Alastor. What is yours ?”

“M/n…Just M/n.”

Alastor smiled and then took off his coat and wrapped M/n inside it, picked him up and then grabbed his gun, then they walked to his home.

“Thank you, Sir…”, M/n said shyly.

“Call me Alastor, Kiddo.”

“Okay, Alastor.”

With that they continued on in silence until they got to his house.

“Wow… Your house is so big and looks so comfy !”, M/n said.

“It sure is. And the inside is very nice too and soon will be very warm for you to warm up, little one.”, Alastor chuckled out.

“You are very kind, Alastor…”

“Applesauce ! Anyone would have helped a child like you !”

M/n frowned.

“Not really. I asked some people to help me for at least 1 day and they all rejected.”

Alastor’s left eye twitched at that.

How DARE these creatures to turn away a helpless child ?!

“Well then, you can stay with me until you are old enough !”

“What ?!”, M/n yelled with wide eyes of shock.

“You heard me.”

“B-but I will just be a waste of your time until then ! I mean there must have been a reason why my OWN parents didn’t want me anymore ! Why would you want to take care of me ?”

Alastor lost his smile for a little bit and looked at M/n with serious eyes.

“You won’t be a waste of space, nor will you be a burden to me. Your parents were selfish and forgot that their kids are their future. They are the ones you shouldn’t want. I want to take care of you, because I want to help you and if no one else helped you before, it is very unlikely that anyone else will help you. And without any graduation it will be hard for you to find a job to get money and live on your own, also you are way too young to go to work already.”

Then he sat M/n down on the floor in front of a big chimney, he threw some wood inside it and lit it on fire. Instantly warmth hit M/n’s face. The boy was in deep thoughts at what Alastor told him and then his head snapped around to him, who hung up his scarf and coat.

“Wouldn’t that make YOU my Dad ?”, M/n asked.

Alastor’s eyes widened in surprise, stopped dead in his tracks and his smile dropped a slight bit as he processed what M/n said…or better asked.

“I…I suppose it would, yes. Or I would be your Guardian. Any work…”, Alastor said in thought and continued to hang up his hat and gloves.

M/n looked back at the fire and hummed softly, biting the inside of his right cheek. He didn’t even know that guy ! But…he was willing to take care of him…

“Anything you want to drink ?”, Alastor asked, snapping M/n out of his thoughts.

“Umm… D-do you have hot chocolate ?”, M/n asked shyly.

“You are in luck. I tried this sweet beverage, but it just isn’t my cup of tea.”, Alastor said and walked into the kitchen, making himself and M/n something to drink.

M/n felt his limbs slowly again, he was relieved to feel his legs slightly again.

“Then what do you like to drink ?!”, M/n called out.

“Coffee mostly !”, Alastor answered back.

“Any sugar or milk ?!”

“Nope ! Plain black coffee !”

“Black just like your soul !”, M/n joked and laughed.

Alastor chuckled at his joke and continued to make himself coffee and M/n a cup of hot chocolate.

After some time the drinks were done and he set them down on the table in the Living room. Then he crouched down and looked at M/n, with a warm smile.

“Try walking to me. Let us see if your limbs have enough feeling to make you walk again.”, he said and stretched out his right hand.

M/n frowned and looked scared at Alastor.

“What if I fall…?”

“I will catch you.”

M/n was still very scared but slowly got up and took two unsteady steps, then he stayed stock still, making Alastor worry.

“I-I can’t feel them much…I fear if I take another step, I will fall…”, M/n said scared.

Alastor got up and walked to M/n’s side, grabbing and holding his left hand softly, but also firm enough so he won’t slip.

“Let us walk together, okay ?”, Alastor said.

M/n nodded and then took a shaky breath. Then he took a step forward and Alastor did the same. M/n wobbled from side to side slightly, but he tried his best. As they were half way there, M/n’s legs gave out and he yelped. Alastor pulled him to his side and then held him.

The little boy had tears in his eyes out of shame.

“I-I’m sorry ! I-I really tried !”, he said sobbing.

“Shh..shh… It’s okay, M/n. I know you tried. Your legs just don’t have full control back yet. It is not your fault…”, Alastor soothed the boy.

M/n was sniffing and wiping his tears away with his hand, looking at Alastor. He smiled at the boy and then picked him up, carrying him to the table and sitting him down on the couch, in front of his hot coca.

M/n stared wide eyed at Alastor as he sat down in front of him on the other side.

“What is it ?”, he asked the boy.

“N-no one ever helped me… When I fell not even my own parents helped me…”

Alastor usually wasn’t for feelings, but he felt bad for M/n. The poor boy really had it hard then…

“Well then your parents were horrible people. You always help kids.”, Alastor said and then blew on his coffee, before slurping some.

M/n looked at Alastor and then went to grab his own cup.

“Careful. It is still very hot. Wait for a little bit or you will burn yourself.”

The boy retreated his hand at Alastor’s warning and waited five more minutes. Then he took a small sip and hummed with a happy smile on his face.

“It is so rare that I get hot coca ! Thank you Alastor, it tastes perfect !”

“No problem, M/n.”

The months ticked by and they got along just fine. M/n always thanked and complimented Alastor. Only today they were both caught off guard.

Alastor made breakfast and M/n stormed down the stairs, dressed in a thicker pullover, socks and pants, which Alastor bought him a while ago.

“Morning M/n.”

“Morning Al ! What is for breakfast ? Can I help ?”

“You can set the table. I am making some sausages, scrambled eggs and bacon as breakfast.”

“Awesome !”

M/n snatched 2 plates, forks and knives then he dashed off to the Living room and set the table.

After a while the food was done and they ate, M/n hummed loudly after he was done with the food.

“That was very delicious. Thank you, Papa !”, M/n said happily.

Alastor froze and his fork fell out of his hand, eyes wide in surprise and shock. M/n looked at him in worry until he realized what he called Alastor and he froze too, blushing and looking away, scared he did something wrong.

“S-sorry… It won’t happen again…”, M/n said.

“Applesauce ! You can call me that, it just caught me off guard !”, Alastor said quickly after he snapped out of his trance.

“REALLY ?!”, M/n said excited.

Alastor chuckled and nodded, then continued to finish his breakfast.

“I will have to go to work in two days again, M/n.”

“O-oh… right you took off because you had to take care of me the last 3 months…”

“I didn’t mind it, Dear.”

“I hope you won’t get into any trouble because of me…”

“Pish posh, Darling. I won’t get into any trouble !”

M/n didn’t know, but Alastor lied. He would get into some trouble. Having a mixed skin color and dark skin colored people are not really welcomed in New Orleans, Louisiana and they also get yelled at, at work. No matter what. All Alastor knows is that they can’t fire him though, he brings in a lot of income for them by his channel.

“I will prepare you some food that you can heat up easily then. Only let it heat up 10 minutes then, okay ? You can do as you please, just don’t go outside and don’t break anything, okay ?”

M/n nodded.

“Yes, Papa.”

Alastor smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. He giggled and held his hand in place, nuzzling it.

A few more months passed by and Alastor took very good care of M/n. Sadly he had to report that he adopted M/n and then they all wanted him to send the kid to school.

“School ?”, M/n asked unsure.

“Yes, school. You will learn there, get friends and have a lot of fun.”

M/n was silent and then teared up. Alastor lost his smile and looked at him concerned.

“You wanna get rid of me…”, M/n whimpered.

“What ? No. But you will have to learn stuff eventually.”

“And who asked me if I WANT to go to a SCHOOL ?! I have YOU ! I heard about schools… Strict, unsafe, bullies and a lot of danger ! Why would I willingly go to that Hell hole ?!”

Alastor was silent. M/n hugged himself and fell to his knees, staring at the floor.

“I don’t want to be beaten ! I don’t want to get hurt by adults ! I don’t want to risk the possibility to get kidnapped ! I don’t wanna be bullied ! What if I get taken away and get killed or worse ?! Who will help me then ?! School is dangerous ! A lot already happened near schools ! I refuse to be another victim !”

Alastor never saw M/n in a full blown panic attack, until now… He rushed to his side and hugged him to his chest. M/n started crying into Alastor’s shirt, clutching it tightly.

“Don’t force me to go, Papa…”

He was conflicted, but he will try his hardest.

After his Son was asleep, he went to the phone he owned and called the people he needed to speak with about the issue of school.

“Hello, who is this ?”, a female asked rudely.

“Why hello there, I must ask that I can educate my Son from home.”, Alastor said.

“Why is that ?”

“He has big Panic attacks. He knows that school is a bad place. He said that a lot already happened there that were negative. He doesn’t feel safe even thinking about going to school.”

“When would he get schooled in ?”

“This year in a week, why ?”

She asked for other information that he answered and then she said.

“We will send someone to the school he will go to and see for ourselves how bad it will be. Then we will decide if he can’t go to school.”

Alastor’s eye twitched.

“How am I supposed to get him there, when he already gets a panic attack just thinking of going there ?”

“That will be your own problem, Sir. Have a good day.”

And the Bitch hung up.

“Rude…”, Alastor commented as he put the phone back.

One week later…

Alastor had big trouble to get M/n to school. He didn’t even have to tell M/n, why he had to wake up and get ready in very nice clothes, he knew that Alastor woke him up to send him there.

M/n made it difficult for Alastor. He hid anywhere he could fit in, ran as soon as he found him, struggled around as Alastor dressed him up and he tried to run out and deeper into the forest.

Somehow Alastor caught him and carried him to his car, only to get him into his car in the end.

M/n was kicking, screaming, crying and begging him not to do this. Alastor hated this, he didn’t want M/n so sad, but he had to try and prove to the authorities that M/n wasn’t stable enough for school and is better off home. He, stupidly, didn’t tell M/n about this though.

Soon they arrived and that was the moment M/n started to straight up WAIL. It hurt Alastor’s heart and all he could think was that M/n must have seen something to freak out so much.

What hurt him most was that M/n was scared of him now and gave up talking to him half the way there, he…just cried.

Alastor got out of the car and then went over to M/n’s door. As soon as he opened it, M/n was on the other side of where he usually loved to sit, curled up and not looking at him.

“Come on, Cher.”, he said softly.

No reply, only sobbing.

“Cher…?”

“Hello Sir, this your child that is scared of school ?”, a male asked.

Alastor looked at the man and saw a name tag. He was the one the authorities sent.

“Yes. As I informed on the phone, he would react like this.”, Alastor said, showing his smile and not letting him see his sadness.

The man hummed and then went to the other side of the car, opened the door and TORE M/n out with force.

“HEY !”, Alastor yelled angered.

Why use such a brutal force on a poor child that could be traumatized already ?!

“OW !”, M/n yelled out, sobbing more.

Alastor didn’t know what to do. If he got into a fight now, he could lose his job and M/n, but he hated seeing him being treated like this too.

“Listen here you Brat ! Drop your act this instant ! You will go to school, like it or not !”, the man yelled pissed off.

M/n started to cry louder and tried to pry the Male’s hand off that hurt him.

“LET GO ! LET GO !”, the boy yelled.

He hoped that his Papa would do something, help him even…

“LET HIM GO ! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND ?! YOU ARE HURTING HIM !”, Alastor yelled pissed off.

The male ignored Alastor.

‘P..Papa ? Why aren’t you doing anything ? HELP ME ! WHY DON’T YOU HELP ME ?!’

“You little Brat have no say in wherever you go or not !”

“LET ME GO YOU ASSHOLE ! YOU ARE HURTING ME !”

The male smirked darkly and slapped M/n’s right cheek hard enough to make him snap his head to the left. Alastor’s eyes widened in utter shock, while M/n…seemed to have lost all emotion.

‘Papa ? He…he let that happen… TRAITOR ! LIAR ! HE PROMISED ! HE PROMISED ! HE PROMISED ! ….Wasn’t I good enough ? HE. DOESN’T. CARE. ABOUT. ME. He is just like THEM…’

M/n kicked the man in the balls then and there and ran away as fast as possible from the scene and Alastor.

“M/N ! WAIT !”, Alastor called in worry, trying to catch his shoulder, but missing it.

‘HE DOESN’T CARE. HE DOESN’T CARE ! HE DOESN’T CARE !’

And with that M/n was gone.

‘What have I done ?!’, was all Alastor could think, angered at himself.

He should have NEVER tried to prove anything to them like this !

“Not the reaction I expected… He didn’t act and he looked very similar to Linda L/n’s Brother M/n L/n. She was his older sister.”, the man said, groaning as he got up.

Alastor whipped around at the mention of M/n’s former last name. Before Alastor could adopt him, M/n had to state his last name and he did.

“M/n L/n. My parents abandoned me and probably already left the country… Then he wanted to adopt me and I am happy to let him. He saved me after all.”

“That IS him ! I adopted him !”, Alastor yelled.

The man paled.

“Oh shit.”

“What ?”

“That was why he is so traumatized and scared of school ! He was witness of how his Sister was kidnapped near the school she went to and was found dead by him in an alley way one day later, naked. We found out that she was sexually assaulted. She also was many times very injured and bruised up from bullies in school. It all makes sense now ! He was the one who mostly saw her first after school !”

Alastor’s eyes widened in utter horror.

“You didn’t know ?”, the man asked.

“No. He never told me.”

The man got out a Walkie Talkie.

“Everyone, search and find M/n L/n also known as M/n Hazbin. He ran away from school and his adoptive Father. I may have overreacted a bit…”

“Taylor you are such a fucking idiot ! Why would you traumatize a child even further ?!”

“First off, I didn’t know that was M/n L/n ! Second off he was the tenth child that pretended to be scared of school, so I got a bit pissed !”

“Well he surely didn’t pretend, you absolute Moron ! I sent out 5 troops and now get your ass to searching ! He could be anywhere !”

“Understood !”

Alastor was already gone. How could he forget ?! Linda L/n was killed in the Cathedral Alley and a boy found her. He would have never guessed that it was M/n !

He was searching everywhere, until a thought came to him.

‘What if he went to that alley ?’

He turned a sharp corner and then drove there as fast as possible. As soon as he reached the alleyway, he spotted M/n. He got out of his car and slowly came near M/n.

“M/n ? Cher ?”, he asked softly to get his attention and to not scare him.

“Go away. I shouldn’t have trusted you, ALASTOR.”, M/n said coldly.

That stabbed Alastor right into the heart. So they are back to names and not to titles…

“You…should have told me about your Sister…”

M/n growled.

“I said: GO AWAY !”, he yelled.

“You are my child. I can’t leave you.”

M/n turned around, rage, hurt and betrayal deep in his eyes.

“YOU let it happen that some filthy man laid his hands on me ! YOU let him HURT me ! YOU didn’t do ANYTHING ! Would you let that happen to your OWN CHILD ?!”

“Cher, I can’t just start a fight… You should-“

“SHUT UP ! JUST SHUT UP ! You PROMISED to protect me at ALL COSTS ! But as I needed you, YOU JUST STOOD THERE !”

Alastor looked away in shame. M/n started to cry again and turned his back to Alastor again.

“I KNOW that I am NOT YOUR SON… I guess I never will be in the future either, to you… But damn, DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE ME HOPE ?!”

“M/n you ARE my-“

“SAVE IT, OKAY ?!”

Alastor stayed dead silent. All that was heard were M/n’s sniffling, sobbing, hiccups and heavy breaths.

“I should have considered freezing to death that day…”

The man’s head snapped up at that, not believing what M/n just said.

“I wish I would have been that clever back then…”

Then there was a beep and a voice.

“We found him. Mr. Hazbin is here too.”

“I knew it. Dragging me back to school, aren’t you ? Heh, and here I was, just questioning my life choices…”, M/n spat and wiped his tears.

Alastor could see from a window how M/n’s face morphed into a rage filled one, then a hurt one, then only a guilty one and then it morphed into….acceptance ?

And then Alastor spotted it. His missing knife from today morning ! M/n just pulled that out of his pocket ! Then fast footsteps were heard of two more people.

“Kid, put the knife down !”, a female yelled.

“To what purpose ? To go back to my future doom ? The only one I would harm, would be myself.”

“M/n, you aren’t going to school.”, a male said.

Alastor just stood there, unsure of what to do. Any wrong move or word can trigger him to kill or hurt himself.

“So ? You want a fucking Cookie for saying that ? That doesn’t rebuild my broken trust in the ONE person I TRUSTED MOST !”, M/n yelled, swinging the knife in his right hand to his right side, away from himself, in anger, while turning to them back around, glaring at them.

“M/n let us talk about this. I can make it up to you.”, Alastor said.

“What is there to talk about and make up for, huh ?! I begged and pleaded you to NOT drag me there ! I fought you to stay away from that place ! I did everything and anything to make you give up and you didn’t leave me ALONE ! WHAT IS THERE TO TALK ABOUT OTHER THAN THAT YOU JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT ME ?! YOU NEVER SAW ME AS YOUR SON ! NOT EVEN CLOSE ! I didn’t HAVE to tell you about my Sister, if you would have just LISTENED ! I told you I know what school really is like ! It is DANGER itself ! And what did you do ?! Ignore it and DRAG ME THERE LIKE A DAMN RAGDOLL ! THANK YOU FOR CARING !”

“Do you think it was easy on me ?! IT HURT, M/N ! BUT I HAD TO ! That was the deal with the authorities that would have decided if you will go to school or NOT ! I had no other choice ! THEY wanted you THERE !”

“THAT DOESN’T JUSTIFY WHY YOU DIDN’T HELP ME ! HE DIDN’T let go… It HURT SO BAD ! AND ALL YOU COULD DO WAS STAND THERE AND BABBLE ?! REALLY ?! HE COULD HAVE BROKEN MY WRIST WITH A LITTLE BIT MORE PRESSURE ! HE FUCKING SLAPPED ME AND ALL YOU COULD DO WAS STAND THERE ! DID YOU ENJOY SEEING ME LIKE THAT ?! WAS IT FUNNY ?! NOT EVEN FOR ONCE DID YOU LOOK CONCERNED ! DID YOU EVEN CARE ?!”, M/n yelled with tears in his eyes.

His tears stood for more than hurt, they also stood for rage and deep betrayal. Alastor was in horror to hear him say that. Did M/n really think that of him…?

“I was never good enough, was I ? That’s why you wanted me in school. To get rid of the annoying BRAT that needs a lot of care and love… Why didn’t you just say so ? Why didn’t you just throw me out or signed me into an orphanage then ?! No one would have known that you even were in CONTACT with me ! The always bothersome, troublemaking, annoying BRAT that just can’t get enough attention. I should have KNOWN you wouldn’t be any different. I may be 6 years old but I HAD TO GROW UP FASTER THAN OTHER KIDS !”

M/n’s grip on the knife was so hard that his knuckles turned white. He wiped his eyes furiously free from tears as they continued to flow like a river. Alastor and the other two cops were shocked.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOUR OWN PARENTS TO NOT STOP BEING YOUR PARENTS ! YOU WEREN’T BLAMED FOR YOUR SISTER’S DEATH ! YOU WEREN’T BEATEN AND ABUSED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HAVE A FEELING TO ALWAYS TRY TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM SO THEY WILL ACCEPT YOU ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AND STARVE ! YOU WEREN’T ABANDONED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO SEE YOUR OWN SISTER’S CONDITIONS WHEN SHE CAME HOME WOUNDED BADLY AND YOU HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER AND LISTEN TO HER TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY BEAT YOUR SISTER IN SCHOOL AND NO ONE CARED! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HER GETTING TAKEN BY SOME PERVERTED FREAKS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO FIND HER LIKE THIS THE NEXT DAY AND FIND OUT THAT THESE SICK FUCKS ARE STILL OUT THERE ! I DID ! I HAD TO ! WHILE NO ONE ELSE NEEDED TO BE PERFECT FOR THEIR PARENTS, I HAD TO BE THAT AND SO MUCH MORE !”

“Oh my… why didn’t you tell the police ?”, the female asked.

“They all would have said that it was a lie and fake. They stuck together…the whole school did. I couldn’t babble out my parents because Father threatened that I will wish I was never born if I tell the police any of this.”

“You have an obsession to be perfect for others…You have trust issues and a lot of trauma on your shoulders.”, the man said softly.

M/n scoffed.

“So what ? It’s not like anyone CARES. I was wrong to trust Alastor and I was wrong to try and prove my worth. After all a BRAT will always be a BRAT…”, he spat out with hatred.

“M/n, I didn’t stop caring. I’m sorry if I made it seem like that, but I truly didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Yes, I should have told you about the school and all, but I was worried that you would get angry at me and the person to check on you. I wanted you to believe that you go there, so nothing will be fake nor will you have a tantrum and show them that you lied to me. I didn’t know that he would SLAP you. Violence is never the answer, as my Mother taught me, so I stay with talking and trying to get through. I know that I should have probably kicked him in the shin anyways, but he was a higher up too, he could have made it worse for you.”, Alastor said softly.

M/n understood where Alastor was coming from, he wasn’t dumb. People with a slight darker skin color are mostly frowned upon and he would have gotten into real trouble too. He ain’t as dumb as Alastor thinks he is.

Still…it HURT that his own adoptive Father didn’t have the BALLS to help him and use a little bit of violence.

“How do I know that you aren’t just saying that so I will drop the knife, before I end myself ?”

So that was what M/n planned… End it all.

“What do you want of me that could make you believe me ?”, Alastor asked back.

The answer was almost instant.

“For once drop that fucking fake smiley on your face and show your true emotions fully to me in the open. At home you have no problem in doing so, but in the open you act cold, distant and uncaring with a big FAKE SMILE on your face. It makes me question what is the real you, the one at home or the one in the open. Always so Buddy Pal with everyone out there but I am forgotten in the background. It happened more than enough times.”

Alastor was surprised, but instantly dropped his façade. He was frowning the deepest frown M/n has ever seen. He studied his eyes and saw all the emotions he thought Alastor didn’t have after all. That was when he teared up and walked over to Alastor, holding out the knife for him to take.

He took it and put it away in his car, then came back and hugged M/n tightly.

“I’m sorry.”, M/n said.

“I’m sorry as well… I should have been more observant and considerate… I’m sorry I had you question me and feel like you had to prove anything to me, Cher.”

M/n just cried his heart out, while Alastor comforted him.

“Shh…I’m here…I’m here…”

After M/n was asleep and in Alastor’s car the cops called him over.

“You should get him a therapist, Sir. Maybe it will help him.”, said the male.

“Are you insane, Mark ? He doesn’t trust ANYONE besides Mr. Hazbin.”, the female cop argued back.

“He should try it.”

“I will consider it. Anything else ?”, Alastor said.

“You can sue Taylor for what he did. That was child abuse and he will be fired on the spot today anyways. We are sorry for his behavior.”, the man said.

Alastor nodded.

“That all ?”

“Yes. You will get the documents that state that M/n is allowed to be schooled at home. We will see to it.”

With that they parted ways. Alastor drove home with M/n and called his Boss and told him what happened and that he will need a few days off. He wasn’t very happy about it, but for the child’s sake he agreed.

A few hours later, Alastor was in the kitchen, cooking, as he heard M/n scream bloody murder. Instantly he grabbed a knife and ran upstairs into M/n’s bedroom, only to find the child, near a panic attack, in a corner.

He dropped the knife and rushed over to M/n, hugging him and gently shushing him, coaxing him out of his attack. He hugged Alastor back tightly and they just stayed like that.

“You okay ?”, Alastor asked.

M/n nodded softly.

“What happened ?”

“Nightmare…”

“What happened in it ?”

“You…left me…”

Alastor looked at M/n with saddened eyes and squeezed him lightly.

“You know that I would never do that, Cher. Right ?”

M/n stayed silent, giving Alastor his answer. It is not out of the possibility for M/n.

“Cher, I’ll never leave as long as I can help it.”

M/n stayed silent. Alastor softly squeezed M/n and then kissed the top of his head.

“I am not planning to leave you. I’m here and I will stay with you here.”, he gently whispered.

M/n felt very sleepy and yawned.

“Promise…?”

“I promise, M/n.”

“Mmmm…Love you, Papa…”, M/n sleepily babbled out.

Alastor smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

Masterlist HERE !

#male!reader #fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #Alastor x Reader #Father!Alastor #Son!Reader #Human!Alastor #Hazbin Hotel #How they met #How they met – Human!Father!Alastor x Son!Reader

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r0ttenhearts · 1 year

Text

cold greetings

cheater! scaramouche x reader

sypnosis: after taking scaramouche back from a nasty breakup-situationship he isn’t the same

warnings: cheating, angst, mean scara

“scara?” your voice almost trembled, seeing him standing on your doorstep. his cheeks and nose were reddened from the cold but a sorrowed look graced his features. he looked as if he had been crying, dark streaks down his cheeks as his cold hand gripped onto the hand you held against the door.

“(y/n)..” he whispered, gaze onto the snowy white carpet of snow on your steps. the lingering resentment held awkwardly in the air. it was almost like an unspoken promise.

the anger and resentment you still held for him kept you guarded. his tears wouldn’t sway you. not this time.

“i just, i wanna talk to you. you don’t have to say anything but i have to say this to you, or i’m afraid i’ll never get a chance to again.” he spoke softly, almost tenderly. it was as if the cruelty he had hurled towards you not too long ago never happened.

“okay. talk, but then you’re out.” you hesitantly stood aside and let his shaking figure inside. it almost felt nostalgic to see him sitting at your kitchen table again. the pink on his cheeks and the thick scarf around his neck did nothing to hide the feeling you got seeing him like this, once again.

taking a seat in front of him, you noticed the way he wouldn’t meet your gaze. his focus on his fingernails, lap, the salt shaker, anything but you.

he let out a heavy sigh before looking up at you. his eye bags seemed darker than they were the last time you saw him.

“i know i have no excuse to be here. i shouldn’t be, i know that. i hate how we ended things (y/n). it’s been you and i for years, and i miss you. i miss having you around, i miss seeing your face and hearing your voice.” a shake exhale left his lips as he sat there. guilt written all across his face. “i shouldn’t have left you that way (y/n). not when you needed me the most.” he whispered the last part, knowing how much he had hurt you.

how much he had fucked up.

memories of that night flashed back to your mind. his anger, that glare he held as he tormented you with the details of the new girl that occupied his mind. his loud laughs at your feeble attempt to show him that you didn’t need him.

it still hurt, even now. you shook your head, feeling that familiar pain again. “i can’t just forgive you scara. that was really fucked up.”

“i know (y/n), and i’m sorry. i really am. it’s just.. i’ve been thinking about it more with the holiday’s coming up. i don’t want to start a year without you in my life.”

you bit your lip back at that. your sense of nostalgia was something that kept you with him for as long as you did. you yearned for the comfort of the past, begged for it. it was the one thing that felt safe, memories.

with some reluctance, you let him back into your life. he seemed different. he was more willing to do activities with you, things he had refused to do once before. some of his belongings had found a place in your home. it felt good to be around him. almost as if you two were young again, discovering the deeper parts of your relationship together as foolish teens.

but.. if it felt so good why was he so distant now? you paused, standing in the doorway of his bedroom. it was dark except for the bright game on his monitor illuminating a corner of his room, headset on his ears as he clicked away. not paying you any mind.

“hey, scara? you said tonight we could watch—“

“i do not care (y/n). let me play my damn game, won’t you? i have more important things to do than watch something i don’t care about because of your whining.”

oh. oh. without another word you slipped away, quietly leaving his apartment. if he wanted to be alone so bad he could have his alone time. to hell with him! you thought to yourself. you wouldn’t spill any tears, not this time.

you went to bed alone that night. hugging yourself and wondering why he had to repeat history, once again. you had lost count of how many times this had happened before. he would always come crawling back to you once his life fell apart, using your weakness for the bittersweet past you’d longed for.

sighing, you rolled over on your side. you wouldn’t bother him anymore, not with how things were going. you were done with him. done!

you tensed at the feeling of cold hands around your waist, warm breath hitting the nape of your neck as your bed dipped slightly behind you. “i’m sorry (y/n).. that was a dick move.”

you scoffed, shrugging his hand off of your shoulder as best as you could. “i’m tired of this scara.” you said quietly. “i’m tired of you doing this to me. it’s been years, and you never stay the same.” you say with a sigh.

scaramouche muttered apologies as he kissed along your neck. his cold hands finding a place on your stomach now as he caressed you. “i’m sorry (y/n). i’ll be better.”

a small smile flashed across your face once he turned you onto your back, leaning down to meet your lips. the kiss felt warm, unlike the cold indifferent kisses you would press against his chapped lips.

he spent the night in your bed, holding you and reminding you of the promise you had made to each other as kids. “i will always stick with you, despite who i meet along the way.”

you woke up groggy the next day, reaching out to the space next to you only to find it empty. with a yawn you made your way to your bedroom door, opening it but pausing once you heard scaramouche’s voice. he was talking to someone, but who?

“yeah i know babe. i’ll be over by tonight. i’m just busy with work stuff, you know how it is. don’t let childe come. alright bye, see you later. i love you.”

you didn’t think as you walked up to him, grabbing his phone out of his hand and slamming it onto the table next to him. “what the fuck? are you fucking serious?”

“what (y/n)? she’s just a friend. don’t get so bitchy.”

you scoffed, shoving him back as hard as you could. your hands trembled with anger. he had betrayed you again. you stupidly believed he had learned.

“fuck you. i’m done, done with this game. get the fuck out and never come back.” he didn’t say a word as he went back into your room, grabbing his jacket and leaving you there. alone.

you didn’t cry, not at first. you were too angry to cry, all you wanted to do was scream. it seemed so good while it lasted. you believed it was the last time, the last time of being apart and being no contact for months until things would fall apart for him. the way it always did.

it took months to rebuild your life without him. he hadnt reached out, not once. but inbetween drinks with kazuha you would hear about him. his new relationship, how nice his new girlfriend was. it made the drinks taste more bitter as you’d gulp them down.

once it was june you’d find yourself with kazuha on most days. your shared laughs throughout the night turned into interlocked fingers on the sheets of your bed. it was the first time in a long time that you felt good about having a relationship with someone. like a new phase of your life had begun.

a knock on your door one stormy night brought all of this to a halt. you half expected to see kazuha there as you swung open the door. “kazu- oh.” your smile fell seeing who it was. it wasn’t your white haired lover, but your ex situationship from what seemed to be forever ago. the rain slid down his dark hair as his hand went to touch yours, but you retracted it just as fast. it was just like that day in december.

“can we talk, (y/n)?”

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#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #scara angst #scara x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche angst #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche x y/n

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laracrofted · 2 years

Text

and so it goes

synopsis: bradley accepts maverick's invitation to spend christmas in the mountains, not realizing penny benjamin's hot niece will also be there.

pairings: bradley bradshaw x fem!reader (no y/n)

wc: 4.1K

warnings: an emphatic 18+, minors and ageless accounts dni, swearing, explicit smut, unprotected semi-public sex in a hot tub (writing this made me want to take a cranberry pill, please be safer than these two), thigh riding, dirty talk, a dash of exhibitionism, a sprinkle of praise kink

note: i... can't believe i wrote this. if you read we'd run inside out from the cold, i make a brief reference to bradley spending christmas skiing in the mountains. and somehow, here we now stand!

summoning @theharddeck (thighs) and @bioodforbiood (rooster is being slutty again) and a few people who wanted we'd run inside smut (if this isn't the worst thing you've ever seen, i'm working on that part two, i promise): @blue-aconite @thedroneranger @dhwanishah09 @six-bloodyminutes

“We should probably go inside…”

…is what Bradley should have said 20 minutes ago when Penny and Maverick turned in for the night, leaving him alone in the outdoor hot tub with an open bottle of champagne and oh yeah, Penny Benjamin’s niece.

December is frigid cold in the mountains, especially at this altitude, but from the deck, Bradley has a clear and perfect view of the mountains, peaked with snow and ice, glittering in the bluish moonlight.

He also has a clear and perfect view of you, sitting across from him in a bikini top that barely covers anything at all. Steam rises from the surface of the water, doing precious little to obstruct the sight of your smooth skin, the barest tease of cleavage with your every shuddering breath.

Are you breathing like that on purpose? Bradley wonders, almost accusatory, then feels like a complete asshole.

You could be having trouble breathing this high in the mountains. You shouldn’t risk altitude sickness, just because Bradley can’t look at your face without drifting down to your chest.

And once again, Bradley could've suggested going inside.

He didn’t do that, choosing to instead refill his champagne glass, and now Maverick is probably going to let the damn missile take him out next time. He could’ve spent Christmas in San Diego alone. Not risking death at Penny Benjamin’s rented cabin.

He’d met you a few times at the Hard Deck, covering a shift at the bar for your aunt, like a good and dutiful niece. You were damn sweet too, taking orders and serving up drinks with a wide smile and an untouchable brightness in your eyes, even against the rudest patrons who’d had too much to drink.

You would smile all the way to the bell, ringing it without missing a beat, calling the nearest and strongest-looking Navy guys over to throw the asshole out in the sand.

Hangman was the first one on the team to meet you, which was a little unfortunate for you. You did catch him in Relationship Jake mode when Jake had just started dating another Naval aviator on the team who was way too good for him. He wasn’t as much of an ass as usual.

Walking into the Hard Deck, dressed in his usual open Hawaiian shirt, Bradley did a full-on double take at the unfamiliar bartender that Hangman was chatting with. You were effusive enough to dim the lights and the noise, drown out the loud music and chatter. He walked closer without even realizing it, drawn in.

He didn’t catch the whole conversation, only the tail end.

Where Hangman had said something like, “Aren’t you sweet?” with a scheming edge to his expression, something that the new Hard Deck bartender wouldn’t know to catch, not knowing him like Bradley did.

And with a subtle shake of his head, Hangman tucked it away, buttoned behind his signature smirk, and caught an eavesdropping Bradley around the shoulder.

“Bradshaw! You meet Penny’s niece yet?”

Hangman shoved him forward, and Bradley stumbled into the bar hard enough to nearly knock the empty glasses from the counter. He turned to glare at the other man, but Jake had already melted in the crowd, no doubt seeking out his girlfriend – and again, too good for him – in the masses.

You were watching him with raised brows, clearing away the glasses that had nearly shattered in the chaos and wiping down the counter. An expectant look on your face.

He looked you up and down, like Bradley had been looking anywhere else for the past three minutes straight, and offered you a sheepish smile and a handshake. You met him with a warm smile and slipped your hand into his, telling him your name.

“Pretty name,” Bradley repeated it, holding your hand for a half second longer than was strictly polite. You looked down at your hands, still joined over the counter, the cutest wrinkle in your forehead. He gave you your hand back, already mourning the contact. “I’m Bradley.”

You eyed him and asked, “Bradley Bradshaw? What kind of name is that?” with a teasing lilt to your voice, passing him an IPA and opting to linger for a moment, despite the Hard Deck patrons clamoring for your attention on the other side.

Rested your elbows on the sticky counter and leaned in.

He nodded a confirmation. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

Women had always complimented him on his hands, wide palms and good fingers, and Bradley made sure to circle the bottle in his hand right in your line of sight, lingering there, not lifting it to his mouth. You watched him the whole time, an expression on your face that was unreadable. Not self-conscious though.

You didn’t seem to care that Bradley noticed.

“You can call me Bradley.” He traced a knuckle through the condensation on the bottle, watching you watch him, gaze flitting from his face to his hand and back again. “Rooster works too. Hell, I think I’d probably answer to Bradshaw.”

“Oh, so I can call you anything I like then?”

Something shifted in your expression, warmed that bright smile into something more knowing, more flirtatious. Look at that, Bradley thought, taking another sip of his beer, fist tight around the glass. Teeth dented your lower lip, and Bradley wanted to reach out and pull your lip from between them.

He wanted to sink his own into it.

He opened his mouth to let out his best line when Penny appeared from the back and called your name. You shot him a parting smile, rescuing a few crumbled bills from the counter on your way over, and Bradley was left to watch you go, mind spinning with the possibilities.

And now, Bradley doesn’t have to imagine the possibilities anymore.

Sure, Maverick will probably sabotage his snowboard on the Black Diamond tomorrow and make his death look like an unfortunate accident, all in the name of Penny Benjamin, but Bradley is feeling a little daring right now.

You last all of 10 minutes alone together before Bradley has you in his lap, grinding down on his bare thigh under the bubbling water with the damp fabric of that obscenely small bikini top balled up in his fist.

And in his defense, Bradley makes a gallant effort for those 10 minutes.

He really does.

He pulls out all the good conversation starters. Such as…

“Moon looks really cool tonight.”

He whips that one out around the 2:45 minute mark, after Bradley already finished his champagne and offered the rest to you in the name of being polite and like, a goddamn gentleman. Forgetting that Maverick had taken your glass inside.

You reassured him, “Oh, I don’t need a glass,” and proceeded to pour champagne directly into your open mouth. It bubbled over your parted lips, spilling over the edge of your chin, trickling down your neck and collarbone, and Bradley had to look at the stars overhead and count backwards from 200.

200, 199, 198… You can’t fuck Penny Benjamin’s niece and ruin Christmas, or Maverick will leave you for dead in the wilderness… 197, 196, 195…

And Bradley’s tried and true check out the moon distraction doesn’t work out so well for him either. You can’t see it well from your spot in the hot tub and end up moving next to him to get a better angle, and now, Bradley has a front-row seat to the steam drifting off your skin.

Not your best work there, Bradshaw.

“So…” Bradley tries again, around the 5:00 minute mark, after finding and losing Orion’s Belt six times. “You’re Penny’s niece, which makes you like… the daughter of her sister, right? That’s… cool.”

You send him an odd look and don’t respond, closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the edge. Tuning him out.

He probably deserves that.

And around the 9:30 minute mark, Bradley has thought too hard about the steam rising from your skin and the flush that is spreading down your torso from the temperature. You get to your knees to look out over the dark blue mountains, and Bradley watches a droplet of moisture run from your shoulder down the length of your spine.

He can’t get out of the hot tub like this. He’ll need to wait you out.

It is fine. He can wait.

He can stay out here all night.

Less than 30 seconds later, Bradley is digging his thumb into the hinge of your jaw, opening you up to him, licking inside your mouth. You are sticky warm from the steam. A stark contrast from the chill of your lips, cold from the below freezing temperatures.

He’d seen you sucking on a peppermint stick all evening, twirling it around a spiked hot chocolate, and Bradley can taste the rich chocolate and mint on your tongue. He could probably lick your neck and taste the spilled champagne.

He wants nothing more than to lift you onto one of the wooden lounge chairs and press his face between your thighs. He wants you to ride him into oblivion and make his last Christmas alive a good one.

Maverick can kill him on New Year's.

He doesn’t want to risk moving much closer to the still-dark cabin, so Bradley catches you around the waist, pressing and grabbing at any available skin. You make an encouraging noise against his mouth, and Bradley gets bolder, covering your breast with one large palm and anchoring you in place with the other one.

He bounces his thigh, grinding you down on him at the exact same time, and god-fucking-damn, Bradley could come from that delicious sound alone, as gasping and needy as the hands that cling to his slick shoulders.

He does it again, soaking in those gorgeous noises.

Bradley breaks the kiss, hooking a thumb underneath the loose sting of your bikini bottoms that are still on for some fucking reason. You don’t need them anymore. He needs to feel you.

“Get these off,” Bradley whispers against your throat, pressing a hot kiss to the spot below your jaw. A quick taste confirms what Bradley suspected. You taste like champagne and sweat.

“Take them off then.” You look at him with a challenge in your eyes, a twitch in your lips giving away your amusement. “I’m comfortable right here.”

And to demonstrate your point, Bradley feels you rock down on his thigh once more, moving your hips without his guidance. He watches you, incredulous and turned on behind comprehension, and as retaliation, Bradley doesn’t bother unknotting the tie.

He closes his fist around the strings and pulls hard enough to make them snap in two, shoving them to the side. Fabric floats up to the middle of the jacuzzi, joining the untied bikini top. It is damning evidence, and Bradley will need to remember to grab those on their way inside.

You go still on top of him, and Bradley bites back a smirk.

“Oh… my god, Bradley. I didn’t bring another swimsuit.” You slap your wet palm against his shoulder, looking about as menacing as Bradley has ever seen you look. Like a little baby kitten with a fluffed tail. “If I can’t use the hot tub for the rest of the trip because of you and your… your caveman hands…”

“Oh yeah? You seemed to like my caveman hands a minute ago,” Bradley teases, testing his luck to the max.

He grips your thigh in his ‘caveman’ hand, hard enough to leave marks, and yanks you forward. His swim trunks ride low on his hips, so Bradley can feel you against his torso, smooth and warm and spread wide.

“What changed, baby?”

You shiver, and Bradley sneaks a hand between your bodies, pressing the pad of his thumb right on your clit. Nails dig into his bicep, urging him on, and Bradley smiles again.

“You still like them, don’t you?”

“Maybe…” is more of an exhale than an admission. You look at him from under half-lowered lids, mouth slack from the feeling of Bradley gently circling your clit with his fingers. “But… I really did want to use the tub again. It’s, ah…” He sinks an index finger into you without preamble. You take him like a dream, all honey and silk around him. “It’s relaxing.”

“You need to relax?”

You nod, and Bradley nibbles at your neck, licking away the drops of champagne that still cling to your skin. He feels buzzed. It is probably just your proximity, the feeling of you on him.

“I’ll help you relax. Sweet thing like you, always looking out for everyone, aren’t you? Always helping everyone. You need someone who’ll be sweet to you too, don’t you, honey?”

He winds your damp hair around his fingers at the base of your skull, reveling in the way your mouth falls open, the way you clench down around his fingers, absently canting your hips into him. God. He is hard enough to hurt, watching you like this.

You don’t answer, and Bradley gives your hair a gentle but firm tug.

“Answer me, sweetness. I need to hear you say it.”

A sharp inhale brings your chest against his, and Bradley can feel your hardened nipples. He’ll get to those later, right now Bradley is too busy watching your face, feeling you flutter around his fingers.

“Yes.”

“Yes…?” Bradley prompts, capturing your gasp with a crushing kiss against your open mouth. He pulls away, letting your hair flow through his fingers, moving that hand back down to hold tight to your hips. He stills you, ignoring your whimpered protest. “Gotta be more specific than that.”

You look him right in the eye, despite the embarrassed flush that’s overtaken your cheeks. “Yes, I want you to be… I want you to be sweet to me, want you to help me relax. I want all of it.”

“Good girl.”

Bradley pulls away all of his fingers except the one that’s teasing your clit. You give him this sad, mournful look and open your mouth to complain, maybe even to whine, but Bradley slides you back down onto his leg. He slots his firm thigh between yours, bends his knee to push against you, and the only sound that passes your lips is a breathy ‘fuck’ that makes him groan.

“I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll be sweet to you,” Bradley promises, guiding your hand to the front of his swim trunks. He is so big, straining against the loose fabric. You tug your lip between your teeth. “But I need to get you ready for me. I need you to be good for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I… Tell me how.”

“I need you to come all over my thigh.”

You really shouldn’t let him talk to you like this, shouldn’t be in this position at all, completely naked on the broad thigh of the cute Naval aviator who sometimes smiled and flirted with you at the Hard Deck.

Actually… You should probably give yourself a little more credit here.

You knew Bradley was interested in you. Had been able to tell from the moment Hangman called him over on the very first night when Bradley had been hovering only a few feet away, obviously listening in.

He’d smiled at you, all big and unassuming brown eyes that probably got him both in and out of all sorts of trouble. He was built like a brick shithouse, tall and wide and completely, utterly hot.

Hot enough that when Penny asked you to come on the annual Northern California trip while Amelia opted for a tropical Christmas in Hawaii with Aunt Penny’s ex-husband…

You might have not so subtly asked whether Captain Mitchell had any plans to invite Bradley there for Christmas, accepting the invitation after Penny snorted and informed you that yes, Maverick had asked him. You choose to ignore the knowing undertone of her response.

You hadn’t been expecting anything in all honestly, more curious about whether Bradley would act any different towards you outside the familiar environment of the Hard Deck. Hoped for a kiss under the nonexistent mistletoe at most. Maybe even a dinner invitation back in San Diego.

Nothing like this.

Bradley is still holding you between his hands, a crooked knuckle stroking and teasing at you under the water. It’s… different doing this here, hot water sloshing around your elbows, a fine layer of steam rapidly cooling on your skin in the cold mountain air. You didn’t expect to like it so much.

Snow starts to drift down from above, melting on the surface of the water, and Bradley is looking at you with liquid warmth swimming in his deep brown eyes, an intense concentration on his face.

Right. He asked you a question.

Not a question. He told you how to do something.

How to be good for him.

Shivers run down your spine at the thought.

“I think…” You aren’t doing all the much thinking right now to be honest. It is mostly overwhelming arousal and radio static up there right now. “I can do that. I want to do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And the corner of Bradley’s mouth kicks up into a self-satisfied smirk. “Better get to work then. Don’t know how long I can stand having you spread open for me and not fuck you, but I’ll wait for you, baby.”

Something about that flips a switch in you, the idea that Bradley is holding himself back from grabbing you and sinking you down on his cock. You pick up your previous pace, rolling your hips forward and down on his thigh. He meets you at your level, working your clit, letting you push against the palm of his hand.

It feels unreal.

Before Bradley even really gets talking.

“Look at you, baby,” He hums the words against your neck, littering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, sometimes pausing to suck and bite in the places that could easily be covered with a scarf.

“You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you? Everyone loves you. Such a sweet little angel, and yet, I’ve got you out here riding my fucking thigh. Someone could come out and see us. You don’t care, do you?”

You can’t help the clench of your thighs, the too loud moan that bubbles from your lips. He shushes you and continues to torment you with dirty words whispered in your ear, voice deep and rasping.

Pleasure is building and building.

You are hot enough to burn.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh, angel,” Bradley instructs, pressing down on your clit. Everything disappears in a streak of white for a moment, and then Bradley comes back into focus, an apparition in the steam, urging you on. “Come for me. Come all over me, and then I’ll fuck you. You want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?”

You can’t get the words out, too drunk on the sensation of his hard thigh slotted against you, the perfect friction of it. Feeling more benevolent, Bradley accepts your nod as an answer this time. You can feel him, hard as a rock against your thigh, and in your pleasure drunk state, fumble with the band of his swim trunks to free him.

It takes a few attempts, and one particularly well-placed thrust from Bradley almost makes you give up. You manage to get him out though, taking him in your hand, thick and heavy, running your thumb over the top of him.

It’s no small satisfaction that Bradley seems as needy as you right now, as unbalanced, groaning into your shoulder.

“Come for me,” Bradley repeats, low and warm against your skin.

It doesn’t take much more than those words and a few more strokes, and Bradley has to catch you against his chest, shaking and shuddering around him and over him, miles away from here.

You can barely make out the soothing praise that Bradley mumbles into your damp hairline. Good. Good. So good for me. Did so well for me. He is throbbing in your hand, and as soon as the white-hot pleasure has cooled, Bradley is pulling you back over him, sinking you down on him in one smooth thrust.

A large hand comes over your mouth to muffle the high-pitched cry that threatens to echo through the damn mountain range, and Bradley’s dark gaze flits between your eyes, waiting for your nod.

He doesn’t waste much time after that, seeming to realize at the same time as you that time is limited. Riding his thigh might’ve been a spiritual experience. It doesn’t mean that Penny and Maverick aren’t currently sleeping in a cabin less than 15 feet away.

Sweat drips down his neck as Bradley lifts you up and lowers you back down again, fucking you in deep and unrelenting thrusts, filling you up over and over again. You pulse around him, still sensitive from the aftershocks of that orgasm, and still moving in you, Bradley drops his head back against the edge of the tub, letting out a pained exhale.

“You’re so fucking tight. Taking my cock like a fucking dream. So perfect for me.”

He hits a spot that makes your toes curl, makes electricity shoot through your entire body. You cling to his chest, pulling at his broad shoulders and insanely muscular arms. Kiss the underside of his jaw, cupping his jaw.

You’re not even sure Bradley is aware of the words coming out of his mouth right now, eyes screwed shut, thrusting into you with increasing sloppiness, both of you growing closer to the edge.

“God, baby, I wish I didn’t have to be quiet right now, I want to hear your moans and screams. Want to hear you scream my name.”

“When I get you back to San Diego, I’m going to keep you in my bed for a whole fucking week, make you come on my tongue and my cock over and over and over.”

"Bet you'll be so fucking sweet. Can't wait to..."

“Fuck, I think… I’m…”

He brings up his fingers to pinch at your nipples, to get you there with him, and barely 30 seconds after your second orgasm of the night pitches you forward, Bradley is spilling inside of you, moaning your name.

Later, Bradley wraps you in a towel, carefully fishing the ruined bikini from the cooling water and grimacing down at the hot tub with his hands on his hips. He picks up the bottle of champagne, weighing it in his hand.

“Do you think if I tell Mav that I spilled champagne in the hot tub and not to use it for the rest of the trip…” Bradley starts, tugging at the towel that sits low on his hips, squinting at the remaining liquid in the bottle. “…that there is any chance he’ll believe me?”

A smile quirks your lips. “I’d say an even 50-50 split.”

“Good enough for me,” Bradley says with a shrug and dumps the remaining dribbles of champagne into the tub, tossing the bottle in after it. He looks proud of his work, tugging the cover back into place.

You are both silent on the walk back to the cabin, lost in thought. You are watching the snow that’s started to fall from the sky again, wondering what… all of that meant for the future.

Bradley is gnawing the edge of his lip, probably thinking about the champagne or the slopes tomorrow or…

He loops a naked arm around your waist without a word.

Giddiness warms your chest.

You clear your throat, trying not to let it show in your voice. You deserve at least a veneer of coolness after letting him fuck you senseless in a hot tub, what with the infection you’re definitely going to get from this.

Worth it.

“So...” You remember his earlier words, the ones from the heat of the moment that Bradley probably doesn’t even remember saying out loud. “‘When I get you back to San Diego’, huh?”

He scratches at the back of his neck, and in the dim light, you can make out the softest flush that creeps over his bare chest. How Bradley could be embarrassed now is beyond you. Sheepish is an adorable look on him though.

“Did… Did I forget to ask you out?”

“It might’ve slipped through the cracks.”

“Ah,” Bradley says, looking down at you with bright eyes and color high in his cheeks. Snow catches in his lashes and his mustache. You have the sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss it away. “Well, I’d like to take you out back in San Diego. How’s that sound to you?”

You stretch up on your toes to kiss him, right there in the snow, dressed in nothing but your towels. He is warm enough for the both of you right now, skimming his palms over your shoulder blades, cupping your nape.

You give your answer.

“Thought you’d never ask, Bradshaw.”

(...anyway... thoughts?)

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x reader #rooster x you #laracrofted writes #fic: bradley bradshaw

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justagalwhowrites · 6 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 33: Discovery

You, Joel and Tommy go on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-32 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Torture. Smut :). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 9.8k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

February, 2028

“Bambi, tell your husband to stop being a wuss.”

“Wuss?” Joel shifted to look around you to his little brother. “Who you callin’ a wuss?”

“Think I’ll call my brother-in-law a dumbass instead,” you smirked over toward Tommy. “Seems more accurate.”

“You tellin’ me we shouldn’t be following that path there?” Tommy nodded toward a worn spot in the snow on the other side of the river where the three of you had stopped, sitting astride your horses. “The one that looks like it could’ve been made by a dozen fuckin’ men?”

“Who knows how old that is,” Joel said. “Been weeks since it snowed. And water’s lookin’ high. Would be real easy to end up cold and wet for no damn reason…”

“Seem awful scared of winding up cold and wet for someone who’s not a wuss,” Tommy teased.

“I don’t want my wife,” Joel stressed the word and you smiled a little, tucking your chin into your chest to hide it. “Being cold and wet and getting sick because you’ve got some harebrained idea that we need to run down some track that’s long dead.”

“Bambi, c’mon,” Tommy said. “You know I’m right, you know the horses can handle it and you know Joel’s just bein’ paranoid because you’re here.”

Joel wasn’t about to tell Tommy that he was right. At least, not while he was out on his first patrol since the incident in November. It would just worry you, might make you drag him back to Jackson before patrol was done. But Tommy was right. Joel had been nervous all day, worrying about seeing you hurt. Worrying that, whoever had been after him would hurt you, too. That wasn’t something he could abide at any time but now that you were his wife, it was more vital. It felt different somehow.

A lot of things did.

Not that there had been much tangible change since the two of you had said your vows that night in Joel’s bed. Since the attack, you hadn’t slept at your own house even once, you were already living together in every way that mattered. Ellie and Savvy had become like sisters in the few months that Savvy had been in Jackson, you like a mother to his daughter and him like a father to yours. And Joel had always been driven to protect you, from the first moment he saw you he knew he would do damn near anything to keep you safe. But the sense of peace and permanence he had calling you his wife made life alongside you another thing entirely. Protecting and caring for you was all the more necessary now.

The girls had taken the news well, all things considered. Joel hadn’t really been worried about Ellie’s reaction, of course. You were the closest thing she had to a mother and lord knew the girl had been working overtime trying to shove you and Joel back together after you’d left.

But he could tell you’d been worried about telling Savvy.

“That ring fittin’ OK?” He asked as he brought you a cup of coffee in bed just as the sun started to rise on Christmas morning.

“Hm?” You looked up at him from your spot nestled into the pillows, chest bare and blankets over your lap like they had been the night before as the two of you made promises to each other. The hand that was twisting your ring around and around on your finger stilled.

“You’re fidgetin’ something fierce there, Mrs. Miller,” he smiled a little and handed you the cup of coffee. “Wanted to know if that ring was fittin’ OK or if you were just getting cold feet on me.”

“It fits great,” you smiled a little over the coffee cup, taking a sip. “And no, no cold feet.”

“Alright,” he said, sitting in bed beside you in nothing but his pajama pants. His fingers trailed up the bare skin of your arm. “Then I think you should tell me what’s on that pretty mind of yours.”

“You’re gonna get us in trouble, touching me like that,” you said, taking another sip of coffee. “Girls will be here soon…”

“Oh I can be quick,” he teased. “But I’d rather not rush our wedding… well, morning…”

You rolled your eyes but laced your fingers with his, brushing his ring as you did.

“Talk to me,” he said, turning serious. “Don’t want to start this off with secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” you sighed, looking at his hand for a moment longer before looking him in the eye. “But… I don’t want to hurt Savvy. I want this with you more than almost anything else. The only thing I want more is for her to be OK. I just don’t know how to tell her.”

Joel nodded slowly, watching you.

“Want to do it together?” He asked gently. You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t want to get in the way of anything but I don’t want you thinkin’ you’re in this alone because you’re not. That’s the whole point.”

You laughed once and then sighed.

“It might help,” you said after a moment. “I think she likes you more than she likes me.”

“Don’t think that’s true,” he said. “She’s just… dealing with some complicated things. And there ain’t a real guidebook for regular parenting, let alone how you raise a kid after the world ends. She loves you. She really does.”

“Should we tell the girls together then?” You asked, looking uncertain.

“I think, if you’re OK with that?” Joel shrugged. “Yeah. I’d like to do that with you.”

You smiled a little and the two of you adjusted in bed so that you were in his arms, your skin soft against his. You finished your coffee and got dressed just before the clatter of teenaged girls took over the house not long after.

Joel kept you tucked against his side as the two of you watched the girls open their gifts, his lips brushing your temple and giving you a squeeze when he could sense you getting tense. He gathered the two of them that afternoon as the four of you got ready to head to Tommy and Maria’s for dinner, your hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans as you paced the kitchen until Ellie and Savvy were there and you joined him at his side.

“What’s up?” Ellie frowned, looking between the two of you.

“Well,” Joel said gently. “We were hopin’ to talk to you girls about something…”

“Oh God,” Ellie groaned. “Please tell me no one’s doing anything stupid…”

“Nothin’ stupid,” Joel smiled a little, slipping an arm through yours to curve around your back and tug you close to his side. You looked up at him for a moment but he didn’t need to look back to know that you were on the verge of panic. He could feel it, your whole body was tense, your breaths short and shallow. “Something real good, actually. We wanted the two of you to know before anyone else but… well, we decided to get married.”

“Oh shit!” Ellie’s eyes went wide for a minute. “Congrats! It’s about damn time, honestly.”

Savvy, however, was silent. She looked between the two of you, her brows drawn together, a small frown on her face before she stalked out of the room.

You pulled away from Joel immediately and he went to follow you but you put up a hand and shook your head before chasing her down.

“Shit,” Ellie, said quietly, staring out the back door that you and Savvy had just left through. Joel clenched his jaw for a moment, resisting the urge to go find you no matter how badly he might want to.

“Still a sore subject for her, huh?” Joel asked Ellie after a moment.

She sighed.

“I really wish Bambi would give her some idea of what happened,” she said. “Because she really seems to think that she had some kind of easy fucking time… She asked me a little bit about it after you both got back last month. I guess she overheard the doctors talking but I didn’t know what to fucking say. I don’t think she’s actually pissed about the two of you. I think she’s pissed at the idea that she was on her own while her mom was having some happy life here.”

Joel sighed for a moment before giving in and following you out the back door. You were standing in the snow, halfway back to Ellie’s place, your back to him as you focused on Savvy.

“Don’t let me get in the way of whatever dream life you’re tryin’ to have here,” her tone was sharp. “Didn’t let me hold you back before…”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, calm and steady. But Joel could hear the pain on your voice. “You’re the most important thing in the world to me and…”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing that!”

Savvy noticed him then, narrowing glaring at him for a moment. You looked back over your shoulder to him, your eyes large and round and watery. He came up behind you, a hand going to the small of your back as he pressed himself against your shoulder.

“Baby girl,” Joel said gently. “I know this is something that’s big…”

“No shit,” she snapped in a way that was so Ellie that Joel considered talking to the older girl about how she spoke around the younger one.

“But,” he continued. “You and Ellie are our number one priority. Always have been…”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, looking into the distance instead of at either one of you.

“Us getting married is just about me and Joel,” you said, pressing yourself back into him. “It doesn’t mean we’re choosing each other over you, it doesn’t mean we love you any less. It just means we wanted to make that commitment to each other, that’s all.”

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at you.

“So what does this mean, then?” She asked. “What’s going to change?”

You looked up at Joel for a moment before looking back to her.

“Not a lot, really,” you said. “We haven’t really talked about where we’re going to live but that’s not too different from how things have been the past few weeks. No one here uses my real name, anyway, and you have your father’s last name, not mine, so even if I did decide to take Joel’s name, it wouldn’t change anything for you.”

She nodded slowly, considering. Joel marveled, for a moment, at how your daughter held her face just like you when she was thinking, the same purse to her lips, the same scrunch of her brow. You’d passed on so much to her even if you didn’t give her your blood.

“Think you can be OK with this?” You asked gently after a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you, honey. I love you more than anything, I don’t want you to be unhappy, especially not because of me.”

“I don’t want you to be unhappy, either,” Savvy said quietly. “I just… I still don’t really get this place. I’m making friends, I’m going to school but… it’s all so different. I still don’t know how I feel about any of it.”

“I know,” you said quietly, reaching out and cupping your daughter’s cheek. Joel held his breath for half a moment, until he realized that she wasn’t going to pull away from your touch. “And I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner or get you here when you were smaller and it would have been easier.”

“I don’t want to be angry,” she said, her voice thick and wet. “I’m so tired, Mom.”

“I know,” you said again, pulling her into you and holding her to your chest. She was stiff for a moment before relaxing into you, her arms going around your waist. “I know, baby.”

It got easier after that. At least on the surface. Savvy was still distant but she didn’t seem to be as antagonistic as she had been before. You moved into Joel’s house - though you traded the sound system at your house for Joel’s - and you set up one of the bedrooms upstairs for Savvy, even though she was still living at Ellie’s.

“At some point, Ellie is going to need her space,” you said, moving the twin sized bed for the fourth time, the wood groaning across the floor as you shoved it into a new place. “She’s a grown woman now…”

“Rather not think about that,” Joel grumbled, even though he’d been trying to find a way to talk to Ellie about her friendship with Jesse in particular. They seemed… close. And who knew what she’d been taught in that damn FEDRA school.

“Think about it or not,” you said, standing back, hands on your hips as you looked at your handiwork. “It’s comin’ for you. She’s going to want to actually live an adult life and that means adult space. Would rather her not feel like she needs to move out of the backyard right away to have that. So… Savvy can just come here.”

Joel thought it was a bit optimistic to think that Savvy would be willing to come here, but he couldn’t bring himself to say that. You were finally showing signs of hope about your relationship with your daughter. You’d been suffering with her so far away. You had done a good job of hiding it - he doubted anyone but him had noticed - but you couldn’t keep going like that, not forever. He didn’t want to ruin it, not now.

Your hopeful nature around Savvy was just another way the world seemed to be changing. The patrols outside Jackson were reporting more and more signs of people and, with them would come more infected. Patrols were starting to pick up and Joel felt the push to make himself useful again with more urgency than ever.

While Jackson was filled with incredibly skillful riders and hunters, Joel knew he was one of the best. Many of the folk here had lived a life that didn’t involve much struggle - at least, relatively speaking - after the outbreak. He’d survived with blood and he was more than willing to shed some more to protect his home and his family. Sitting on the sidelines, lame and useless, didn’t suit him.

He’d learned to avoid the gates and the stables when patrols were coming and going, not wanting to look at the men and women who got to go out and actually make themselves useful with envy that was rooted in the self loathing that had started to bloom inside of him.

He started going to talk to the doctors at least once a week, seeing if he’d made enough progress to start going outside the walls of the city again. It was slow going. Getting approved for sex and lighter work around town was one thing. Getting the OK to go outside and hunt down raiders was - apparently - another matter entirely. But, eventually, he got a hesitant OK from both doctors.

Joel got them to put it in writing - feeling only a little bit like a school boy taking a report card home to his mother - and headed straight for the stable to show you. You were working with a horse, one that had been foaled in Jackson right around the time he’d first found you in the snow. It was old enough now that you could work with it, accustomed enough to people that you’d told him you thought you’d be able to get the horse to broke fast. He stood and watched you for a bit, you standing beside her and getting her used to someone putting pressure on her body to guide her, talking to her in that gentle voice you used when working with animals.

“You gonna just stand there and watch, cowboy?” You asked after a few minutes, not looking over your shoulder to him but Joel knew you were smiling all the same. “Or is there something I can do for you?”

“Man need a reason to come look at his wife?” He asked. You twisted look at him at that and he was right, you were smiling. “I don’t think he does. Not when she’s as pretty as you, anyway.”

“Uh huh,” you looked back to the horse, giving her a treat of some kind. “Feel like you’re tryin’ to butter me up over there.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I just needed to look at ya for a minute.”

“Gimme five minutes,” you said, throwing a mischievous look over your shoulder. “Then maybe you can do more than look.”

Joel laughed a little and watched you finish up with the horse before you led her inside and put her in her stall, him trailing behind you. In all honesty, he was happy to watch you work. You were so good with them, you cared so deeply. It was enthralling in the best possible way, just the physical manifestation of one of the infinite reasons he loved you.

You latched the stable door when you were done with the horse and stood close to Joel, taking his shirt by the fistful and pulling him against you so you could kiss him. He was happy to let you, one of his hands finding your face to hold you in just the right spot so he could dip his tongue into your mouth while you moaned against his lips.

“Before this goes too far,” he said after pulling back from you. “Should talk about something…”

“Should we?” You asked, tugging him against you for another kiss.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against your mouth. You released him and stepped back a little, frowning. He smiled a little. “S’nothing bad, don’t gotta look so worried about it.”

“Alright,” you said, a hint of challenge in your voice. “Then what is it?”

“Well,” he said, holding your gaze and trying to shake the feeling that he’d done something he shouldn’t have. “Talked to the doctors…”

Your eyes narrowed.

“And they’ve OKed me to go out on patrol again…”

“GodDAMMIT Joel!” You stomped away from him, back to him, arms crossed. He gave you a moment to seethe, his hands in his pockets, thumbs drumming a stuttering rhythm on the denim. After a few deathly quiet seconds, you turned back. “Really? You really want to go get yourself fuckin’ killed…”

“Sweetheart…”

“Are we just not enough for you?” You demanded, stalking up to him, arms still crossed tightly in front of you. “Me, Ellie, Savvy. Are we not enough? Do you need to go get some kind of goddamn adrenaline rush, is that it?”

He resisted the urge to fight you on it. Your eyes were watery and wide and pleading.

“You know that’s not what it is, baby,” he whispered. A single tear slipped down your cheek and he reached out to gently take your face in his hand, catching it on his thumb. “You’re more than enough, you’re more than I deserve. And you know I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Don’t make this about me,” you snapped. He ignored that, too.

“But we need people who can keep Jackson safe,” he said. “For you, for our girls. I can do that. You know I can…”

“You can’t if you get yourself fuckin’ killed!” You took a deep breath and centered yourself for a moment. “You’re still limping…”

“I know,” he nodded slowly. “But they think I’ll probably limp at least a little for the rest of my life. S’OK. I can ride just fine, won’t hurt me bein’ able to fight…”

“Bullshit.”

“It’ll be OK,” he said gently. “And I’m willin’ to go out with you or Tommy….”

“And,” you cut him off.

Joel frowned.

“And?”

“Me and Tommy,” you replied. “Deal’s changed. You’re limping, you can’t go out with just one of us, it has to be both.”

He sighed.

“Bambi…”

“You want me on board?” You asked. “That’s the deal.”

He sighed again.

“We can talk with Maria,” he said. “See if we have the space for it.”

“Alright,” you said “Because I’m not going to just sit here and watch you get yourself hurt or killed. That’s not what I signed up for.”

“Not what I’m asking you to do,” he said gently. “I don’t want to not come home to you, baby. But I need to make sure I’m doin’ my part to keep Jackson safe.”

It had taken a few weeks for things to line up right with patrols and Joel could feel how tense you were leading up to the day the three of you were heading out. You’d clung to him especially hard the night before. Ellie and Savvy had joined the two of you for dinner and then to play cards and you’d held it together pretty well until they left. But the second they were gone it was like a switch flipped. You pressed yourself against his side, your arms wrapped around his bicep, your head tight against his shoulder.

“You alright?” He frowned.

“Fine,” you said, voice tight.

When he took you to bed, you rode him aching and slow until you came and collapsed on top of him, Joel only lasting a few more deep thrusts into your tight heat before coming undone himself. He held you there, your head against his chest as his hand trailed a slow and easy path up and down your spine. He was still inside you when he felt your tears on his chest.

“Baby,” he said softly.

“Don’t make me come back alone,” you said, lifting your head from his chest enough to look at him, the rest of you still tight against his body. “Please, Joel. Don’t make me lose you, too.”

“Not losing me,” he held your face in his hands. “Promise.”

“You’ll always come back for me?” You whispered.

“Always,” he said softly. “I promise. As long as you promise to always be there to come back to.”

“Promise,” you said quietly.

He’d been worried about how the patrol was going to go after that, but you, him and Tommy had fallen back into your usual patterns easily once you were outside Jackson and you let yourselves relax into them a bit.

It had been an easy patrol until the three of you stopped to give the horses a chance to take a drink and saw the tracks across the river. And Joel couldn’t seem to shake the clutch of fear that gripped him at the thought of putting you in harm’s way by following the trail.

“Tommy, I swear to God, you ever hold this against me…” you began, but he cut you off.

“You’ll shoot me?” Tommy teased.

“Trample you with a horse,” you replied. “But… yeah. You’re right. We should check that trail.”

Joel gave you a look and you just looked back, your brows raised. He sighed.

“Alright,” he said. “Tommy, you take the lead since this is your damn scheme.”

“C’mon lovebirds,” he said, starting across the water. “Sooner we follow this path, sooner we can get back to town and the sooner you two can go back to leavin’ me out of whatever it is you two do.”

Joel was about to give Tommy shit but you beat him to it, lobbing a snowball at him and hitting him straight in the face. Joel barked a laugh as you tried to stifle yours, your arms crossed demurely over your saddle horn.

“Nice,” Tommy said as the snow slid off his face. “Real nice.”

“Well, say stupid shit, win stupid prizes,” you shrugged, smirking a little.

“Not cool, Bambi,” he said, wiping his face clean. “Not cool.”

“You’re right,” you replied, smirk growing. “Think it’s technically cold…”

Tommy leaned around you to look at Joel.

“You’ve had too much influence on your wife,” he said. “I remember when she was a nice girl…”

“Bullshit,” you said.

“Wouldn’t even look at someone mean…”

“Tommy, she’d have always kicked your ass whenever you did somethin’ dumb enough to ask for it,” Joel smiled, a little proud. “Now let’s move before you give ‘er another reason.”

Tommy wiped the last of the snow from his skin with a good natured shake of his head and started off. You called Gatling back into her spot on your saddle as Joel nodded for you to be in between the two of them so he could bring up the rear. At least this way, Joel or Tommy would get hit before you would.

The three of you followed the tracks for a few hours, until things shifted. You noticed it first, that the footprints in the snow looked more well traveled, like people were coming and going from this point in the forest more often than all the way to the water.

“There,” you said quietly, nodding to the brush off the trail. Joel looked where you indicated, a baited trap primed and ready.

“That ain’t been there long,” Tommy said. Joel came up alongside you, closer than he’d normally try to be when on horseback. But it kept the rising fear in him calmer, more contained. He looked around at the ground, the snow so worn down it was hard to have even a remote idea of how many people had been through here recently. Gatling gave a low, rumbling growl and you soothed her with a pet.

“We should go back,” Joel said. “Get backup…”

“That’d be wise.”

Your gun was drawn before Joel or Tommy could reach theirs and you twisted in your saddle to look behind you. Joel turned, too, his sidearm drawn, a group of six men on foot standing about 20 feet back. Their rifles were drawn, at least two of them trained on you. Joel’s jaw clenched.

“Why don’t you folks get off those horses,” a man at the middle of the group said. “See what we can figure out.”

You glanced toward Joel before you whistled Gatling down and started to dismount before he had a chance to argue. Joel did, too, arranging himself in front of you - Tommy at his side, shielding you, too - before stepping closer to the group. Joel slung his rifle forward on his arm but kept it tilted toward the man’s legs and not his head. The man who’d spoken smirked.

“Haven’t seen you out this way before,” the man said. “Care to tell us where you’re from?”

“Not really,” Tommy said as Joel looked the group over. They were all large and broad, young and cocky. Looked to be well fed. These weren��t travelers passing through, of that he was almost certain. “You can tell us, though, seein’ as you’re traipsin’ through our territory.”

“Your territory?” The man raised his brows. “Seems like a bold claim for two men and their… pet to make.”

Tommy snapped his rifle up before Joel did.

“Say that shit about her again,” he snapped. “Fuckin’ dare you.”

Your hand went in the middle of Joel’s back, right between his shoulder blades, a gentle and grounding force, before you appeared at his side, Gatling practically glued to your calve.

“Bambi,” Joel growled, your hand trailing over his back before raising your rifle.

The man looked at you, amused.

“She’s come to play,” he smiled. “That’s good, I like ‘em with a little fight…”

“Trust me when I tell you that I’m doing you a favor, giving you the chance to deal with me,” you said, sounding almost eerily calm. “Try me and they’ll kill you. Assuming I don’t kill you first.”

Gatling growled at your feet, crouched and ready to spring.

“Now,” you said. “Where are you from.”

The man looked at you for a moment, all but licking his lips, before turning back to Joel and Tommy.

“You really let your little woman run the show?” He asked. “Can think of a lot better uses for her smart mouth…”

Gatling snarled and flattened her ears against her head. Joel’s eyes narrowed, raising his gun so it was now aimed at the man’s chest, not his legs.

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about,” he strained to keep his voice calm. “Now, you gonna tell us where you’re from or are you gonna make me gun you down?”

“How about this,” the man said, still seeming over confident. “You tell us where you’re from, maybe let us have a little fun with your whore wife, you go on your merry way. Otherwise, we can just kill you.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. Tommy adjusted his grip on his gun and Joel gave him a look before glancing over to you.

“Any of them look familiar?” He asked, voice dangerous and low.

“No,” you said. “Don’t know any of them.”

Joel focused back on the men.

“Good.”

He reached out an arm and swept you behind him a half second before he started shooting, Tommy following suit almost immediately. The men shot back, a bullet glancing off Joel’s shoulder as they did. You, of course refused to stay where Joel had tucked you for long. You stepped alongside him, firing, too, as Joel tried not to be distracted by the terrifying possibility of you, bleeding on the ground.

But the three of you were lucky. The men clearly hadn’t been doing this long. Joel wasn’t sure if they were just bad shots or if shooting and killing a person wasn’t something they were really comfortable with yet but either way, they’d dropped five of them, the sixth taking off, a bullet hole in his leg.

You lowered your gun.

“Gatling,” you panted before snapping and pointing toward the man. “Capture.”

She shot off like a rocket, her ears pressed flat against her head. The man was no match for her speed and she launched herself at him, her jaws clamping around the man’s bicep as she wrenched his body to the ground.

You took a deep breath and then looked to Joel’s arm, where there was now a hole in his jacket that the cold air bit through and a small spray of blood.

“Why do you always find some way to get fuckin’ shot?” You asked, your thumbs gently tracing the outside edge of the small wound.

“Just talented I suppose,” Joel smiled a little before looking over at Tommy. “You OK?”

“Fine,” he slung his rifle over his shoulder. “Should question that fucker and get the hell out of here before worse shows up.”

Joel led the way, drawing his knife. The three of you stood over the man, the same one who’d done all the talking before. He seemed much less cocky now, whimpering as Gatling growled around the meat of his arm.

“Call off your fucking dog!” He sobbed. “Fuck, please! I’ll tell you whatever you want, please!”

“Not one to give in to demands like that, but…” Joel looked at you.

“Gatling,” you said. “Release.”

The dog dropped the man’s arm and came to stand against your side, her ribs pressed to your leg. Joel caught the man’s shoulder with the toe of his boot and rolled him onto his back. He tried to sit up but Joel stopped him, pressing his foot into the wound from Gatling’s jaws on the man’s arm. He cried out as Joel forced him to the ground and Tommy kicked the man’s gun away.

“Now,” Joel said, getting down low and putting a knee at the center of the man’s chest. “You’re gonna answer some questions for us.”

***

Normally, watching Joel hurt someone would turn your stomach. It wasn’t a sight you enjoyed to begin with and you’d never seen him torture someone since you’d known how he learned how to. The fact that he had anything in common with the man bleeding on the ground made your stomach clench.

But this was different. Savvy was back in Jackson now. There were a lot of lines you were more than willing to cross to keep men like this far, far away from her. Including this one.

You rested your hand on Gatling’s head, the warmth of her fur comforting and familiar.

“Look at her,” Joel said, taking the man’s chin in his hand and forcing him to face you before looking at you himself. “You sure you don’t know him? Want to make sure I make this worse if you do.”

“I’m sure,” you said. It was oddly comforting, his threat. It was good to know that Joel was still Joel, even when doing stuff like this.

He nodded once and looked back at the man.

“Count yourself lucky,” he said. “She’s makin’ this easier for you. Now, where are you from.”

“Territory north west of here,” he panted. “In Idaho.”

“What brings you down this way?” Joel asked.

The man was silent for a moment outside of his labored breaths, his eyes closed in a wince. Joel sighed, sounding exasperated before lifting his knife.

“I’m gonna ask again,” Joel said. “Last time it’ll be nice. Why are you here.”

“Why should I tell you, hm?” The man spat. “You’re just gonna hurt me, kill me anyway, what goddamn difference does it make?”

“Now see, that’s just a bad attitude to have,” Tommy said, kneeling next to the man. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his head to turn. “We can make this real hard or real easy. We got a lot of incentive to make this easy. We want to get back home to our families, don’t want to just be out here in the cold for hours on end because you’re being a goddamn dumbass. But, we have shit we need to protect. And if that means stayin’ out here while we take you apart piece by piece until you tell us what we want to know then, well, so be it.”

“Give you just a second to think about what my brother told you,” Joel said, pressing the tip of the knife to the man’s shoulder but not pushing it in. “And then you can answer now or you can answer later. Why are you here.”

The man closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep, shuddering breath before opening them again.

“There are too many of us,” he said. “Too many groups, been fighting over space for the past few years. Decided to work together for a time, find new territory to expand into. Sent us out here to see what might get in the way. Been tracking the territory of a settlement about a day’s walk from here, trying to see where we can push in and what they’ve got to push back…”

You stiffened, a chill running up your spine. Joel looked up to you, his eyes as concerned as you felt. He looked back at the man.

“How’s that been workin’?” Joel asked. “How are you tracking it?”

“We’ve been marking what we think the outside edges are,” he said. “We’ve been pushing in closer, last few months…”

“Who’re you workin’ with?” Joel asked.

“What?” The man asked, confused.

Joel sighed before pressing the knife into the man’s shoulder and he screamed.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Joel said. “The way you were talkin’ about my wife? I really wouldn’t mind taking my time and takin’ you apart. Who are you working with. Want names.”

“I don’t know!” He sobbed. “Swear I don’t, we run with a guy called Smith, he’s joined up with a couple other guys with groups like his, I don’t know their names…”

“Try and remember,” Joel growled, pressing the knife deeper. You winced and looked away, trying not think about Joel doing this before. Your stomach turned. “The name Mitchum ring a bell?”

“No,” the man said quickly. “Please, no, I promise I don’t know the names! Just that there are three or four of ‘em, that’s all.”

“How far out are the others you’re working with?” He asked. “They gonna be breathing down our necks any second?”

“No,” he said. “No, they’re a few days walk at least…”

Joel nodded before he reached out, brushing his fingers over the outside of your thigh, bringing your attention back to him.

“Any other questions?” He asked you. “Other names?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Nothing else.”

Joel nodded, turning back to the man.

“Can’t let you live,” he said. “You’re a liability. You’re too hurt to get a message back to your people so there’s no point in risking it.”

“Fuck you,” the man spat and Joel shrugged.

“Shitty last words,” he said, pulling the knife from his shoulder before quickly slitting the man’s throat. He gasped and burbled on his own blood for a minute before he went still and quiet. Joel wiped his knife clean on the man’s shirt before sheathing it and getting to his feet. He looked to you then, his eyes wide and soft and deep.

“You with me?” He asked gently. You nodded quickly. He reached out, slowly, to take your face in his hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones and his eyes looked into yours. “You’re OK? Not…”

“Yeah,” you said softly, cutting him off. “I’m OK.”

You weren’t sure how true that was. He pulled you against him, pressing his lips to your forehead before cradling you against him and holding you for a moment.

“Much as I’m happy you two have worked your shit out,” Tommy said. “We should get moving. Pretty sure he was tellin’ the truth but I don’t want to bet our lives on it.”

The three of you mounted up again, Gatling settling into her space on the front of your saddle.

“So,” Tommy said after you’d been riding for a bit. “Am I allowed to ask the obvious question?”

“Tommy,” Joel said, a warning on his voice.

“Look,” he replied. “Not tryin’ to hurt anyone or fuck up things between you two. But I’ve got a job to do when it comes to protecting my town and protecting my family and you two are a part of both of those things. Can’t defend from something I don’t know.”

“You don’t need -” Joel began but you cut him off.

“Mitchum was the man who held me captive for two years,” you said, staring straight ahead. Gatling gave a small whimper and you scratched her head. Tommy was quiet for what felt like a small eternity.

“He…” Tommy’s voice trailed off. “Two years?” You nodded, not able to look at him. “Two goddamn years?”

Your jaw tightened and your stomach turned.

“Two goddamn years and he ain’t dead yet?” Tommy asked, voice shifting to anger as he rounded on Joel. “The fuck have you been doing?”

“You think he’d still be breathin’ if I knew where to find him?” Joel snapped. “Ain’t that easy.”

“Should do to that fucker whatever he did to you,” Tommy said, ignoring Joel now. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before? We could’ve helped you, could’ve tried to track him down…”

“She don’t want to talk about it, Tommy,” Joel hissed. “Leave it.”

Gatling stretched up to give you a small lick on the chin.

“Joel’s right,” you said, finally making yourself look at the man who had become as much of a brother to you as the boys you’d grown up with had been. The pity in his eyes almost made you turn away. “I don’t want to talk about it. But you should know that he’s still after me. Joel and I ran into trouble on patrol before. One of the men then was one that… I knew him, from before. He said Mitchum is looking for me. He’s got a crew, at least 50 guys when I got out, and he’s looking for me.”

“Jesus,” Tommy shook his head for a moment before steeling himself. “He’s not gettin’ his hands on you. We’ll protect you, not going to let him hurt you, you understand me?”

“I know,” you said, looking straight ahead again. You tried not to think about what the man had just said. That there were groups of men like Mitchum, all bearing down on Jackson.

“Who all knows?” Tommy asked, calmer now. “About… what happened.”

“Joel,” you said, though that should have been obvious. “Ellie knows the broad strokes of it. Now you.”

“Not Savvy?” He asked, frown so evident in his voice that you looked over at him again. He looked sad and you tried not to resent him for it.

“Don’t need her having that shit in her head,” you said, looking forward again.

Tommy was silent for a few minutes.

“I’m really sorry, Bambi,” he said eventually. “You shouldn’t…”

“I don’t want your pity,” you said, harsher than you’d really meant to. “Just… forget I said anything.”

“But…”

“I said fucking forget it, Tommy.”

The rest of the ride back was quiet and you wanted to fix it. But, more than that, you wanted things to go back to how they’d been before. Where Tommy would give you shit and you’d give him shit back, not where he was going to pity you and handle you with kid gloves. You wanted him to keep being your brother, not someone who kept you at arm’s length because they kept picturing the shit that had happened to you.

Olivia was at the stable when the three of you made it back and you were almost disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to get lost in handling the horses on your own for a while. When she stepped to the side for a moment, you took a deep breath and turned to Tommy.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” you said, hoping that this would at least start to fix things. “I get that you need certain… information. I just don’t want you seeing me any different.”

“I don’t,” he gave you a sad half smile. “Just think you’re more badass now, that’s all.”

You scoffed but he waved you off.

“I mean it,” he said. “I do. And I’ll keep it to myself, alright?”

“Thank you,” you said and he pulled you in for a small hug.

“You might be Joel’s girl,” he said. “But you’re my sister. I’m gonna look out for you. No one’s allowed to fuck with you except me.”

You laughed a little at that, Tommy reminding you so much of Richie for a moment.

“I’ll go report out on this patrol,” he said, stepping back from you and looking to Joel. “We got some good information, it’ll help us be ready for whatever’s comin’ our way.”

Joel nodded, a concerned look on his face.

“We’ve weathered hard shit before,” Tommy said. “We can handle whatever these assholes have to throw at us. Took a lot to establish our territory here and I’m not afraid to shed a little blood to protect it.”

He set off and you, Joel and Olivia took care of everything else in near silence, Olivia just filling you in on the goings on while you were gone, seemingly unaware of any tension on the air.

“Should we go by the doctor?” You asked as you and Joel went to leave, your arms tight across your chest. “See if you need stitches or anything?”

“No,” he replied, draping an arm over your shoulders and tugging you closer to press a kiss to your temple. “It’s nothing too bad. Just want to get home.”

You just nodded and let him guide you home, walking in silence, the looming threat from the man Joel had questioned keeping your mind far away.

But when Joel opened the front door, you weren’t met with a quiet living room. Instead, Ellie and Savvy were sitting on the floor around the coffee table, Uno cards fanned out in their hands.

“Should never have told you how the draw cards work,” Ellie was muttering, her back to you and her already sizable hand growing as she drew from the deck in the middle of the table.

Savvy looked up as the door knob thudded into the wall, her eyes finding yours. Her face lit up like she was happy to see you - actually happy to see you.

“Mom!” She dropped her cards and jumped up. “You’re back!”

She ran over to you but stopped short of hugging you, looking you up and down before looking at Joel, too.

“Are you guys OK?” She asked, a little more reserved now, more how you were used to seeing her over the past few months. “Everyone made it through and stuff?”

“We’re fine,” you smiled, trying to actually be in the room with her instead of worrying about the threat of raiders on the horizon. It was easier, knowing that she actually wanted you there. “Is everything OK? What are you two doing here?”

“You were gone a little long,” she bit her lip and shoved her hands in her back pockets. “We just… we wanted to make sure you got home.”

You smiled, reaching out to tuck the stray curl that always popped out from her braids behind her ear. It was an automatic thing, a gesture you’d done countless times since she was a toddler. It didn’t occur to you until your fingers were almost brushing her skin that she might pull back from you now. But she didn’t. She let you touch her, adjusting her hair and cupping her cheek.

“Missed you,” you said quietly.

She smiled. It was tight, a little hesitant, but it was a smile.

“I missed you, too.”

Ellie had gone to the mess hall and brought back dinner for you and Joel and the two of you ate as Ellie and Savvy got Monopoly set up at the kitchen table. The four of you played a game, you paying more attention to explaining things like rents and mortgages and how they’d worked in the real world to Savvy. She crinkled her nose, the concept of money and paying to live inherently foreign to her. Joel kept a hand on your knee for most of it, his thumb tracing a gentle pattern there as you let Savvy clean you out, a small smile on your face every time you had to pay her.

“Well, some of us have to be up early tomorrow,” Ellie said, stretching, back arched like a cat after she won the game. “C’mon Savvy.”

“Yeah, alright,” Savvy yawned and tried to stifle it before getting to her feet.

“It was good to see you,” you said, crossing your arms to keep from reaching for her. “Thank you for staying a while.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, small but not as tight as it had been lately. “It was good to see you, too.”

She looked at you for a moment before hesitantly stepping closer. You lowered your arms and forced yourself to keep them at your sides until she reached for you, hugging you. You slowly, cautiously, hugged her back, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you held her close. She felt so foreign but so familiar all at once. You’d never had a chance to truly get used to holding her in the body she’d grown into in the years you were apart but she was still so her, smelling and moving the same as she always had.

You held onto her until she pulled away, her awkwardly staring down at your shoes before clearing her throat.

“Well…” she said. “Goodnight Mom. Joel.”

“Night,” Joel said, coming up alongside you, one of his large hands splaying wide over the small of your back.

“Goodnight,” you smiled a little, your voice wet.

Ellie gave you an encouraging look and followed Savvy out the back door and into the yard. You just stood there, watching them go, until they were inside the shed and the light turned on there.

“Hey,” Joel said quietly from beside you. You turned enough to look at him. He was watching you closely, frowning slightly. “How we doin’?”

You frowned.

“I’m fine,” you said. “Not really sure what you’re asking…”

“Well,” he looked off to the side for a moment before steeling himself and looking back to you with a heavy sigh. “Back when you first came back to me… You said you might need space sometimes. Today… There was a lot that happened, I had to do some shit that I’m sure ain’t easy to watch and… baby, if you need some distance from me…”

“Joel,” you said softly, twisting in his gentle hold so your front was pressed against his. You reached up and trailed your fingers through his curls.

“Want to give you whatever it is you need,” he said as your hands came to rest on his broad chest. He took your wrist gently in his palm and brought it to his lips pressing a kiss into your pulse point. “Even if that’s time away from me.”

“I don’t want that,” you said. “I just want to know you’re here.”

He pulled you a little closer, the hand that was on your wrist trailing down your arm before curling around your back.

“Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” he said, voice low, before leading you upstairs.

You undressed each other while the shower warmed up. You unbuttoned his shirt slowly, methodically, running your fingers over his bared chest before pressing your lips into him there. You examined the place on his arm where the bullet had grazed him, the cut already scabbing over.

“You got lucky,” you said, your fingers tracing over the older scars on his body before you kissed just below the new one.

“Been a lot luckier than I deserve for a while now,” he said quietly.

Once Joel undressed you, you took his hand and led him into the water. You cleaned him gently, lathering the soap in your hands before running them over his skin, cleaning the blood and dirt from his body and finding every mark on him that you’d gotten to know so well. He washed you in return, his large hands cupping your breasts, trailing over your stomach, your arms, cupping you between your legs with tender care. When you were both clean, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your slick, wet body against his own. His cock - half hard and thick - nestled against your stomach.

“C’mon baby,” he said, tilting your head so he could look in your eyes while his nose brushed your own. “Let me take you to bed. Don’t want to rush this with you and don’t trust my bum leg to let me take my time in here.”

You smiled a little and kissed him.

“Promise you’ll take me to a lake this summer?” You asked. “Because I really want to fuck you in the water.”

He closed his eyes and laughed, low and needy.

“Promise, baby.”

You kissed him again.

“Then take me to bed.”

Joel reached behind you to turn off the water and wrapped you securely in a towel before running one quickly through his curls and over his own slick body. You enjoyed the view for a moment - the muscle of his arms and chest, the soft and welcoming swell of his stomach - before starting off toward the bedroom, dropping your towel halfway down the hall and looking back over your shoulder to catch your husband staring at you as you did.

It didn’t take him long to join you, his hands on your waist soon after you were in your bedroom, turning you to face him. His cock was fully hard as he kissed you, his lips hot and needy against you. You arched into his touch, the feeling of him against you, the taste of him on your tongue.

He pulled back from you just enough that you could look into his eyes, all molten hot and soft and open, his nose brushing yours, still breathing the same air.

“Tell me how to take care of you,” he said softly. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just you,” you said, voice breathy and trembling. “I need to feel you, I need you close.”

His mouth swallowed your words as he nudged you back down onto the bed. He arranged you in the middle of it, his skin never far from yours, before he settled in the cradle of your hips. His thick length pressed against your slit, making you moan as he kissed down your shoulder to your breast, taking the firm, pebbled part of you into his mouth and sucking you gently. You whimpered, grinding your hips against him. He kissed over your swell of flesh to your breast bone before looking up at you there, his gaze hot and desperate.

“Needy, are you?” He all but growled before pressing another kiss to your chest. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take real good care of you. Just let me enjoy you first.”

He worked his way to your other breast, sucking you there while he cupped and gently toyed with the other one, his cock rocking against your core the whole time. You could feel your pussy starting to drip for him, your grasping entrance desperate for something to hold.

“Please Joel,” you panted, working your hips up against him as best you could with the weight of him holding you still. “I need you, please, please…”

He pulled his mouth from your nipple with a reluctant groan before adjusting his hips, your clit throbbing in protest of the loss of contact for a moment before you felt his head notch against your entrance. Joel hovered over you, the soft skin of his chest and stomach ghosting over yours, one of his hands coming to cradle the crown of your head, his thumb tracing tenderly along the peak of your hairline.

“What do you need?” He asked, sounding nearly breathless himself. “What’s my pretty, perfect wife need, hm?”

“You,” you whimpered. You didn’t really care if you sounded pathetic, you needed Joel too much. “Inside me, please, please…”

“Don’t worry baby,” he said. “Give you exactly what you need, always gonna take care of you.”

You felt him press into you then, his cock opening your tight channel as he sank into you. You closed your eyes and arched into the familiar, pleasant burn of the stretch of him followed by the almost shocking fullness when he was fully sheathed within you. He stilled there for a moment, your body adjusting to his size, and you could feel all of him. He was so close like this, closer than anyone else had ever been. Your body held onto his, your thighs around his hips, hands over his chest, pussy stretched taut over his cock. You could feel every breath he took, every throb of his cock within you. He was yours like this, yours and yours alone.

“This what you needed?” His voice trembled. You could only nod. He pulled back from you and you whimpered before he thrust back in with a grunt. “Good. Always give you what you need, baby, always.”

He fucked you hard and slow, his thrusts almost bruising in their force and making your hands leave his chest to twist and tangle in the blankets as your orgasm built. He set his aching rhythm, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and devouring all your needy, fucked out sounds.

Your whole being was drawn in tight and hot when he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your hand to the bed.

“C’mon baby,” Joel panted as he thrust into you deep and hard. “Let me feel you, just let go for me. You’re OK, you’re here with me, just give in. I’ve got you, baby. Take care of you, just give in, just come for me. Just come.”

You pressed your hips up against him and came, your fingers tightening around his as your pussy pulsed and throbbed and he fucked you through it.

Joel didn’t last long, though. Your climax had barely begun to ease when he pressed himself deep and came with a strangled cry. He kissed you as he finished before collapsing onto you for a moment, the heavy weight of him soothing and centering as you came back down to Earth.

After a minute, he pulled himself gently from your fucked out body and lay beside you, still panting for breath as he watched you next to him. You rolled to face him and pressed yourself close, burying your face in his chest that smelled like soap from the shower with a hint of sweat from what happened after. His hand brushed over your hair and down your back in a gentle, easy cadence. He pressed a kiss into the crown of your head and you felt him take a deep breath, his nose nuzzled into your hair.

“You with me?” He asked softly. You nodded into his chest. “How’re you feelin’?”

“After that?” You teased lightly. “I’m great.”

He chuckled.

“Not what I meant, love.”

You took a deep breath, taking the centering scent of Joel into yourself.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I guess I just… I kept thinking raiders were far away from here. Sure, they were out there, we ran into them sometimes, but they weren’t a problem. Not really. But they’re not, they’re right there and I…” your voice cracked and he pulled you tighter.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “M’sorry.”

“Savvy’s here now,” you said, trying to keep yourself from crying. “Ellie… she goes out there. And now you do, too, and… I know I sound like a goddamn broken record but I cannot survive losing any of you. I can’t. And they just take, they take and take and they won’t stop until there’s nothing left and…”

You buried your face in his chest, not able to keep going.

“It won’t be like that this time,” he whispered. “You’re not doing this alone. I’ve got you and anyone who wants to even glance at you or our girls will have to go through me. And good luck keepin’ me from coming home to you.”

You laughed once at that, the sound thick and wet.

“I’m going to protect you, Bambi,” he said, his tone serious now. “I promise you. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep us all safe.”

Next Chapter

A/N: I dunno guys, I feel like something might be about to happen.

Could just be me, though.

👀👀👀👀

Thank you, as always, for reading. I really can't say how much it means to me that you're here, that you're so kind and supportive, that you choose to spend your time with this story. I appreciate it so much.

Love you!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic

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kookygranger · 10 months

Text

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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✩࿐ TRACK 04: UNDERSTAND. shoto todoroki (1K)

about. until he met you, shoto todoroki wasn’t really sure what being loved felt like. now that he knows, he’s sure that he wants love with you - for the all his days.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact!, sfw, fluff, happy ending, established relationship, sunday snuggles, proposals, afab!reader, pro hero!todoroki.

things to note. eee i was meant to post shoto’s last saturday but i got rlly busy! i hope you enjoy the double update today, sero later <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩

todoroki never knew what love truly felt like.

to be held like tomorrow has not been promised is something he hardly remembers from his childhood — sometimes if he closes his eyes and tries hard enough, he can catch whiffs of his mother’s shampoo and the feeling of her cashmere sweater against his chubby cheeks.

but it’s always fleeting, never fully present. never really telling of what love feels like.

you were the one who taught shoto that love shouldn’t be something that he has to try and grasp for. that it should be unconditional, that it’s an experience that he deserves.

the half and half hero never thought that he would find someone who cares as much for him as you do — even from the very moment you met. you chose to befriend him despite how callous and cold his exterior was at the time. willingly, you spent years chipping away at the cool layer of frost that prickled on the surface of todoroki’s skin like a sculpture working with the perfect block of ice, desperate to see the real him. not the mould his father had carved him out to be.

you did not seek to change todoroki, to shape him into something new — you simply wanted to see the real him, the warmth in him you knew already existed. it just needed a little coaxing out. you’d told him that on night, your hand sifting through soft peppermint swirl hair. moving as if you couldn’t feel shoto’s heavy heterochromatic gaze on you.

“i like you the way you are, not the way you think you ought to be.”

shoto’s heart had flipped at your confession — like it had done so many times over the years. but being raised in a place where love was replaced by fear, he’d no idea that he was slowly, albeit, surely falling in love with you. oftentimes, you would remind shoto that you found his obliviousness to your feelings for him endearing and adorable. your romance was somewhat of a slow burner, melting like a frozen over fireplace during the winter season. where lingering touches were over analysed and where your cheeks burned hot whenever you stared at one another for too long.

reciprocating your feelings had been a learning curve for the half hot, half cold hero but he had learned from his friends that there is a point to trying (if watching kaminari and his endless attempts at bagging his girlfriend from high school to present day wasn’t motivation enough, todoroki isn’t sure what is). after a patrol through the bustling city some years back, early on into his career as a pro — shoto had held your hands close to his chest, warming you up through the sleet and snow and asked.

“maybe we could try, if you let me?”

he’d not expected you to understand his simple words or burst into tears, nor to say yes and leap up to his height for a delicate chaste kiss. “it’s about damn time, shoto.” you’d replied, beaming so bright he was sure to see galaxies.

he had no idea that the one person he would want to be with for all his life was so close to him, nestled between the milestones and the memories. but now that todoroki has you — he can’t see himself spending a single second away from you. and you, the same with him.

today is no different to how it’s always been since dating todoroki. you lie in his sheets, your bare limbs intertwined and your fingers locked as if you’re never going to let go. todoroki, though lost in his thoughts, worries that you might be able to hear the rapid thump of his heart hitting the inside of his rib cage. if you do notice, you ignore it in favour of drawing shapes along the ridge form of shoto’s naked body, listening out for the sound of his breathing.

he’s scared, truth be told. he worries that despite all this time together — being accustomed to one another’s quips and squicks, that you might leave or abandon him. love is freighting, even if it is supposed to be unconditional. “darling,” the man coos gently, brushing a knuckle over the apple of your cheek.

“hmm?” you sound so dreamy and relaxed, curled up with him like this — you don’t have a care in the world, completely unaware that you make up shoto’s entire world. “yes, my love?”

the wisps of a smile catch on the corners of his mouth, dragging them upwards at the sight of you nuzzling into his warm palm. “i have a question to ask,” todoroki lets out a shaky exhale and shifts to sit against the headboard with you still tucked into his side. he watches as you glance up at him through long lashes, worry dancing amongst the flecks in your eyes.

you nod and take his hand to reassure him that you’re listening.

he decides then, that you’re worth the risk.

“this may seem spontaneous,” todoroki starts slowly, making sure to keep his voice even as though not to spook you. as if you’re a deer in the woods and he’s a hunter on the prowl. “i can assure you that it’s not. i’ve thought about this more times than you could count, but first. you’re aware that i love you. right?” the press of your lips against his sensitive collarbones is enough for todoroki to assume that your answer is yes — he appreciates you giving him the space to talk too. “not a moment of my time goes by where i’m not longing for you, even when you’re right here next to me.”

shoto takes a moment to pause, pushing the question he wants to ask around on his tongue — he wonders how to frame it, how you’ll take it but with one look into your gleaming pretty eyes (he should have known you would get teary from his speech), he knows exactly what to say. “you’ve…shown me a lot of things, a love that shouldn’t be granted. a life that i deserved to lead and so,” he grasps at your fingers with his colder hand, giving them a gentle squeeze before thumbing over your ring finger. “i think it’s about time that i asked you to be mine.”

he wants you, forever and always. for all of his days — if you’ll stay, that is.

drawing your body up so that you can kneel before him, you squeeze todoroki’s hand back and bring it up towards your lips to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “sho,” you sigh, the words warmly coasting over his cool skin contrastingly. “are you—?”

“i’m asking you to marry me. that’s if you’ll have me, darling.” the hero feels a little shy at how tenderly you treat him, a rose coloured blush blooming on his milky skin at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“i’ll have you in every single lifetime,” you say urgently, throwing your arms around todoroki’s broad, shoulders in a tight hug. “i can promise you that.”

like always, you take todoroki’s hand and he lets you lead him down the path — changing his future, soothing his past. because of course, you’re the only one who truly understands.

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wuaxoi · 1 month

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iced coffee

synopsis! being a regular customer means that you know every single employee at the campus’s coffee shop. but what if one day you walks in to get your usual iced latte and met the new employee.. oh! and he's cute too..

BARISTA! leehan x COLLEGE STUDENT! reader GENRE! fluff, university au, non!idol au, stranges to lovers(?) TW! reader is obsessed with iced latte, she/her used, reader being called a girl, leehan is a bit flirty NOW IS PLAYING! . . iced coffee by red velvet

you were obsessed to say at least. you needed it. it felt like your life was depending on it. you couldn’t survive a day without iced latte. doesn’t matter if it was freezing cold ans snowing outside or it was extremely hot, you needed that iced latte.

you knew every employee at the campus's coffee shop. you knew the ones that already quit the job, even the owners. a cute old couple who always asks your opinion about new menu, the shop design and even worker's uniform. you were the best regular customer. you could get the same order twice or three times a day, you knew everyone and sometimes was ready to help the barista's.

your classes ended at 12am so it was finally a time to get your iced latte. you walked to the coffee shop, opened the door and get inside.

“you're late today.. classes?” sungho, the guy that was working at this place since the day it opened, looked at you and smiled slightly. he was always so kind and polite, when you first saw him you thought at least ten customers were asking for his number per day. but you was suddenly wrong.

“yeah, i had to take this sociology class i was telling you about the last time..” you walked towards the counter and leaned on it with your hands. you sighed tiredly and watched as sungho was already about to do your regular well-known order but stopped. you raised an eyebrow, who was he waiting for?

“hey donghyun! go make an order for our regular customer” sungho yelled for the dong-whatever-his-name-is so he could hear him from the employees room.

you watched as the door opened and the guy coming out.. oh! he was.. cute? damn no he was attractive as hell.

“the iced latte girl?” the guy asked and you blinked twice before you could look away right when he looked at you. you tried to avoid his gaze in her. “it’s nice to finally meet you” he said and walked right to the coffee machine to make her order.

“so you heard about me?” you asked with a slight smile on your face. it was nice knowing that the employees and owners of the shop talked about you in a good way. “feeling like a celebrity now”

“yeah sungho and miss han talked about you. a lot actually.” the guy chuckled when he was already finishing your drink. sungho then punched his shoulder to shut him up and stop talking before he could say anything he shouldn’t. “im donghyun by the way. or you can call me leehan” he said and handed you your iced latte. “one iced latte for our best customer” leehan smiled. his smile was so pretty.. his smiley eyes.. so cute. wait.

“thanks.. im y/n” you smiled back and walked to the table right infront of the window. the shop was empty so it was basically you, leehan and sungho. the place was quiet and you suddenly felt awkward, which is strange because you never felt like that there. not even when the place is empty. not even when you spilled your drink on yourself. not even when you did it for the second time.

“so, y/n.. you have a boyfriend?” leehan asked. you almost choked with your own saliva when you heard this question leaving his lips. why would he even ask that? was he interested in you? or he was just flirty?

“can you stop making our customers feel uncomfortable, go find something more worthy to do..” sungho rolled his eyes at leehan when he chuckled and looked at you. your eyes widened, mouth slightly open. “let her drink her coffee in peace”

“okay okay, whatever” leehan said and before he could walk away to the employees room you finally had found a strength in yourself to talk.

“no, i don’t. wanna go out or something?” you asked. you wasn’t expecting the second sentence leaving your mouth but those words slipped out of your tongue so easily, so you couldn’t help it.

“sure” leehan smirked and quickly wrote his number on the napkin and walked towards her table to give it to her. “then call me” that was the last words he said before he disappeared in the employees room.

“that’s it..? he just gave me his number and told me to call him?” you were amused by leehan’s behavior. you never thought he would act like that and you never met someone like him. that was… interesting. maybe exiting?

“yeah he’s a bit weird.. good luck” sungho patted your shoulder gently to cheer you up or whatever he meant by that and sat down on the chair next to you. “so.. what are you gonna wear?” he asked.

author note: lol that’s my first work in english & my first fic in like 7 years? so i hope yall enjoyed and i did great bc idk how i feel about this one BUT im kinda proud of myself that i wrote this ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა also pls let me know if i did some grammar mistakes / or tips how can i improve!!

#୨ৎ ⋅ 妮卡's work #leehan x reader #boynextdoor #leehan imagines #bnd imagines #bnd x reader #kpop #kpop drabbles #kpop idol

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sunonyoreface · 2 years

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He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 3

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 2568

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: military setting, violence, explicit language.

PT4: https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-4/g299e2a9fj7s

When the van slows to a stop, Soap reaches over and snags a hand under my seatbelt clip to release it before undoing his own. His gloved knuckles brush against my stomach and there’s a slight pressure as he undoes the buckle. As quickly as he reached over, he disappears.

“We’ll wait ‘til everyone else’s off,” he says quietly, but I catch it immediately. There’s no one else he’d be talking to right now. Soap didn’t speak another word the entire ride, even to Ghost. No one else needs to hear his quiet words, they’re solely for me.

I nod in response, but I don’t know if he catches it.

The blindfold stays on as I descend the steps leading out of the van. A startling wave of icy air whips around me. All of the warmth I gained on our ride here is stripped from my body and I already feel the goose bumps rising on my arms.

“Fuck it's cold,” I mutter under my breath. My feet land on an uneven surface that I think is gravel. I can feel a layer of snow sticking to the bottom of my socks. The fabric freezes to the surface and sticks with resistance when I try and lift them. I can hear people unloading equipment from the vehicle and somewhere behind us another two or three vehicles pull up.

“Fair jeelit out,” Soap states to no one in particular. I don’t know if I heard him right and I’ve no clue what jeelit means, but it must refer to the cold. His reassuring hand once again finds its place at the back of my upper arm to quickly guide me inside.

It’s warmer inside, but only because there’s no wind. I follow Soap’s directions as he leads me to a room somewhere to wait while the team unloads. Inside is out of the wind, but not much better. Everywhere is freezing. Where the hell are we? It’s only November. It shouldn’t be this damn cold.

In the room alone, I can finally take the mask off. It’s a dim, bleak room with no windows and no furniture. A single fluorescent light hangs from the ceiling. It feels like the strange lighting plays with my eyes and forms shadows that aren’t really there. As I exhale, my breath visibly hangs in the air, illuminated by the light. I find myself drawn to the back corner of the room where I take a seat against the cement wall. I feel like I’m in a prison cell being punished for a crime I didn’t commit.

My stiff fingers untie the plastic bag to grab the blanket they gave me. It’s thick and rough, but warm. It wraps fully around my body, providing a refuge from the cold. Balled up in the corner of the room and wrapped in the old blanket, I’m finally able to relax enough to doze off. Being in a constant state of fight or flight is exhausting. I can almost feel the buildup of cortisol in my blood from the last several weeks. I’ve yet to catch a break and it’s taking a physical toll.

I don’t know how long I’m there, but when someone finally comes to the door, it’s not Soap. The sound of the latch unlocking startles me from my slumber. A large, dark figure looms in the doorway. He fills almost the entire space and is only a couple inches away from the top of the frame. A small pit in my stomach begins to grow. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light before I see the outline of the skull mask.

Ghost holds onto the sides of his bulletproof vest as he observes me in the corner. His wordless presence changes the entire feeling of the room. Everywhere he goes, Ghost brings with him the threat of violence. A dangerous ambiance floods the room as I’m reminded of our interactions last night.

I wait for his husky voice to fill the room with an order, but it remains silent as he watches me with those cold, calculating eyes. I feel like an animal of prey backed into a corner by a predator. There’s a lot about Ghost that’s predatory. His stature alone is built to kill. He’s the tallest man here only next to one other. But that man is slim compared to Ghost, who is broad and built with thick muscles gained from years of experience with hand-to-hand combat. Although he’s built like a machine, he’s incredibly stealthy. I wouldn’t be surprised if his call name originated because of how quiet he is when he moves. When he walks behind you, you don’t even know he’s there. His footsteps are utterly silent and he somehow blends into every room he enters. You don’t notice him until you see that terrifying skull mask staring back at you and by then, it's too late.

Ghost also seems to have an expansive understanding of people’s body language and facial expressions. He knows where a conversation is headed before it reaches its destination. He seems to know the next move of the people around him before they’ve thought about it themselves. He does this all based on how they hold themselves and where they’re looking. It takes him just seconds to catch a lie being told to him based on your micro expressions and tone of voice. He leaves no rock left unturned and is incredibly detailed. When Ghost looks at you the way he is looking at me now, you can almost be certain he’s reading your thoughts.

He's confident in the way he holds himself. Ghost knows his capabilities and what he brings to the team. He has more than earned his title and position on this team. The men he works with have unyielding respect for him and rightfully so. He’s technical, mechanical to the point that you might think he isn’t human.

There’s a darkness to him that makes him suited for this profession. He’s experienced and committed violence that most men can’t even imagine. Something has happened in his past that makes him choose this lifestyle - this violence over and over again because even it is better than what he knows from his past life. The old Ghost has died and what remains is the most efficient of killing machines.

So yes, when I see him standing in front of me, analyzing every shift and micro expression, looking for ulterior motives, it terrifies me. Because even though my only motive is to learn about my parent’s past, he already seems to know more about them than I ever have. When he looks at me, Ghost knows more about me than I will for years. And that, is a terrifying thought.

“Where’s soap?” I ask.

“In a meeting,” Ghost responds.

“Is this another interrogation?” I shift in my spot to see him better and wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

“It could be,” his voice deepens as he fully steps into the room, silently closing the door behind him. The pit in my stomach begins to grow. I straighten my posture as I sit on the floor and bunch the blanket in my hands with nervous fists.

“I thought I was cleared,” my throat is tight and my voice goes up an octave when I respond. Ghost stalks closer to me, clearing the small room in just a few slow strides.

“No. You were deemed non-violent,” he says. “People with clearance don’t walk around wearing cuffs,” he stays standing as he approaches me. I find myself craning my neck to look up at him. Ghost stands directly in front of the fluorescent light. Rays shine down around his shoulders causing him to appear as a silhouette. I have to squint my eyes to make out his mask. Cold eyes stare down at me. I adjust the blanket again, but it’s no use.

“I don’t want to be here. I just want to go home,” I have to be careful or my voice will break. “Why can’t you guys just put me on a plane to New York?”

“You’re not going back to New York,” his voice is certain.

“Why? I’m no use to you guys. In fact, I’m the opposite of useful. You have to spend the extra money and manpower to feed and watch me. We’re both better off if I leave.”

“Useless things don’t last long around here,” he states as he crouches down to my eye level. Ghost’s forearms rest on his knees as he removes the gloves from his hands. He slowly and deliberately pulls on each finger of the glove as he maintains eye contact. My eyes are drawn to the alluring sight of the veins on the back of his hands. They ripple under the dim light as he flexes his hands after freeing them from their restraints.

“Does Soap know you’re here?” a sound of annoyance escapes his chest at my question. My stomach twists. Shouldn’t have asked that.

“Soap doesn’t need to know I’m here,” Ghost pauses, leaning in closer so our eyes are level. “Soap answers to me. Not the other way around. I say jump. He asks how high,” Ghost’s eyes carefully scan over my face, taking in every detail. His voice is low, serious, and unyielding. “Stop asking about Soap. He can’t help you. The only person who can help you right now, is me.”

I force a swallow before nodding. All the while I never break eye contact with him. Once our eyes meet, it’s hard to look away. His gaze is paralyzing and even when I tell my eyes to look elsewhere, I can’t.

“Understood?” his voice is just above a whisper.

“Yes sir,” I respond as the world around me blurs. All I can see are those hypnotizing eyes that demand your attention in all of it’s entirety.

“Right,” Ghost says as he stands back up and paces around the room. “Yesterday you said you were researching your father’s past. What did you find?”

“I was able to get in contact with one of his cousins on Facebook. I was hoping to reach out to more relatives, but she said she wasn’t in contact with anyone from that side of the family. She also said that she cut herself off from our family for a reason and that I’d be stupid to try and establish that connection again. She warned that no good come would come from it.”

“Have you met this cousin before?” Ghost asks.

“No, but both of my parents spoke of her and she knew information about our family that isn’t public,” I respond. “Even though she didn’t support what I was doing, she gave me the mailing address for one of my uncles, Dimitri Makarov, so I wrote to him next,” I continue, but notice a shift in Ghost's demeanour when I mention his name. “I never got to read his letter though, I had just picked it up from the post office and that’s when I was kidnapped.”

“What do you know about Dmitri Makarov?” He asks, pacing back towards me.

“Nothing. My father never spoke of his brothers. I wouldn’t doubt they’re part of the reason he left. I asked several times about them as a child but learned quickly it was a sore subject. For a long time, I kept my questions to myself. Snooped when I could, but never found anything interesting,” I think of all the times I’d go through my parents’ mail as a kid - looking for letters from our family; Christmas, birthday, anniversary cards – to only find an endless supply of bills. “Do you know that name?”

Ghost chooses his words wisely before speaking. “It’s a name familiar to 141.”

His response isn’t reassuring.

“My parent’s changed their last name when we immigrated. It doesn’t really feel like we’re related at all. I can’t even remember meeting most of my family.”

“What’s the other brother’s name?” Ghost skips over my last statement.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know Dmitri’s name either until I started digging,” Something about his expression leads me to think he knows more than he’s revealing, but I’m in no position to be asking questions. There’s something new to Ghost’s eyes. This conversation contains information he wants but I’m just not sure why. Is it possible whoever my father and his brothers were involved with are known to 141?

“Has your father ever flown back to Russia?” he asks.

“He went back for my grandfather’s funeral a few months ago. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t allow it,” I think back to all of the times he’s travelled. It isn’t a regular thing, but a couple of times each year he goes on business trips. My parents make an effort of going on a trip once every year or two. Sometimes I get to go with them, but not often. I don’t know where he goes when he travels, he’ll tell me one place, but in hindsight that doesn’t mean much without proof. “You know, he’s never specifically said that he went to Russia, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t.”

Ghost’s expression remains stoic. I wish I could see the rest of his face, just for the chance to read his reactions. What does this all mean? My father left that life; surely Ghost doesn’t think that is a lie?

“Do you think he’s involved?” my voice wavers. He doesn’t spend much time considering the question. In Ghost’s mind, he already knows.

“Can’t say,” he says as though he’s unsure of the possibility. He isn’t being truthful. What else has he misled me about? The realization that my father could possibly still be involved with the life he supposedly left behind starts to sink in. My emotions begin to tangle in themselves. The urge to cry pricks at the corner of my eyes and I have to close them to prevent a tear from escaping.

“This is so fucked up,” I mumble. I wait for him to ask more questions, but they never come. Ghost watches me closely as I process everything. With a sigh, I finally bring myself to look up at him. His deep brown eyes meet mine and for a moment, neither of us says anything. I can almost imagine his brows furrowing as he tries to determine what I’m thinking about. In reality, it probably doesn’t take him much effort to determine my thoughts. I grab the blanket and use it to wipe the bottom of my nose. “How long do I have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes,” his tone is reserved.

“As long as it takes for what?” the urge to cry returns. At this rate, I’ll never get to go home. Ghost gets up from his position without answering me. He heads to the door and pauses when it opens.

“Soap will get you once he’s free,” he looks back at me once more. There’s something almost hesitant about the way he holds himself. His hand grips the edge of the door and for a second, I think he’s going to say something else. But then he intentionally knocks on the frame once with his knuckles before turning and pushing off. The loud clang of the lock echoes through the empty room.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #cod ghost #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #COD MW2 #soap cod #soap x reader #MW2 #MWII #mw2 imagine

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