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punkshort · 3 months ago

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Swept Away | Chapter 10: Turn the Tide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A devastating discovery leads you back into Joel's arms. But do you both have what it takes to make it work?

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, miscarriage (discussions and descriptions included, not terribly graphic, blood is mentioned, please skip if this is triggering for you), hurt/comfort, fluff, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, protected piv sex, secrets are revealed and explain some underlying anxieties/trust issues

WC: 16.6K

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

"Jesus Christ, this place is doing a number on my allergies," Celine whined when she opened your apartment door to find you curled up on your couch with a heating pad. She looked around the room and shook her head, dropping her purse and keys on your floor because every single flat surface was being taken up by flowers. Flowers Joel had been sending you every fucking day since he dropped you off. "How can you stand it in here?"

"I can't," you muttered, staring listlessly at the television while she opened up the windows as far as they would go. "Been meaning to look into places where I could donate them but I'm in the middle of the worst period of my fucking life."

"Yeah, I can see that," she replied before collapsing in a huff on the other end of your couch. Her eyes skimmed your coffee table, filled with pain killers, water and tea before she asked, "Have you eaten?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty bowl under the table. "I heated up some soup."

"Maybe you should call your doctor, are your periods usually this bad?" she asked before picking up the dirty dishes and heading to your sink.

"No," you groaned, rolling onto your back with a wince. "I'm on the pill. They're usually a breeze."

"Then you should definitely call," she said over her shoulder. "Can't hurt to get checked out."

"Yeah? With what health insurance?" you countered angrily as you forced yourself to sit up.

"Still no luck finding a job?"

You shook your head then sneezed, scowling at the roses nearby like it was their fault.

"Then use some of the fifty fucking thousand dollars he gave you and see a goddamn doctor!" she exclaimed after drying your bowl and putting it away. "I know you don't want to use it but it doesn't matter, he won't know either way."

Fifty grand. He had wired you fifty grand instead of twenty. You spent a week going back and forth with your bank, making them reject the funds over and over until you finally caved because you couldn't stand to waste any more time on the phone with them over it. You had decided you would donate it like he suggested, but you never figured out where. Between that and all the flowers he kept sending, you couldn't decide if you should be flattered or pissed off.

On that particular day, with your uterus trying to extract itself from your body, you chose to be pissed off.

As if on cue, your buzzer rang and you could have screamed at the top of your lungs, already knowing who it was. Celine got to the intercom first and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim, got today's flowers."

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, deciding to give into your urge.

"Alright, buzzing you up."

You heard her press the other button and hold it a few seconds before unlocking your door and leaving it cracked.

"He's in love with you," she said matter-of-factly from the door.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you replied, making her laugh.

A light tap on the door came a few minutes later and Celine pushed it open to greet Jim, an older man with a white beard that reminded you of Santa, before she signed for the flowers.

"Jim, don't you have someone you could give these to instead?" you asked from the couch. He shook his head and grinned before handing over the vase of peonies, dahlias and roses.

"You know I can't do that."

You made a face and collapsed into the back of your couch.

"Maybe if you just call him, it'll end," Jim offered, "although I don't mind. You're keeping the shop afloat at this point," he joked.

"That's exactly what he wants," you replied. He shrugged and gave you a wave with a see you tomorrow, then disappeared down the hall. Celine closed the door and looked around the room for a clear spot before giving up and setting them on the ground.

"Maybe flower guy was right. Maybe you should call him."

"He's just used to getting his way. He can pull this shit with anyone else but I'm not gonna give in," you told her while simultaneously picking up your phone, fingers tapping angrily at your screen. She grinned and found her spot back on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Joel and telling him to knock it the fuck off," you growled.

Celine tipped her head back and laughed. "Same thing! You're talking to him! You're giving him exactly what he wants."

"Okay, so I'm not perfect! What else is new?" you snapped after shooting off a text to Joel that said stop with the fucking flowers, I mean it.

Before Celine could reply, your phone vibrated in your lap.

Does this mean you're willing to see me? Or should I switch to chocolate?

You frowned and Celine knowingly tilted her head to the side.

"Girl. Come on. Hear him out. Maybe if you just meet up once and let him talk, he'll stop. I've never seen a guy text back as quickly as him, and he's got an actual successful business to run! Do you have a magic pussy or something, what the hell did you do to this guy?"

You cracked a smile for the first time in days. You didn't go into much detail with her since you came back. She knew you slept together and she knew he broke your heart, but everything else remained a mystery. And because she knew you would tell her in your own time, she never asked.

"I just think he's not used to hearing the word no," you told her, ignoring his text and setting your phone down on your coffee table.

"Or he's madly in love with you and doesn't know how to handle it," she countered with a raised eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to object, to remind her for the fourth time that Joel didn't fall in love with anyone, when a sharp pain shot through your legs and you doubled over with a deep groan. Celine lunged forward to rub your upper back, her smile long gone when she saw how you badly you were struggling.

"That's it. I'm calling your doctor," she said, snatching your phone from the table to scroll through your contacts.

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, not bothering to stop her when she dialed the phone.

You sat on the exam table, a loud and irritating white piece of paper separating your thighs from the padding as your doctor sat before you, gently explaining what was happening while a low ringing began to echo in your head.

Miscarriage... hCG levels... four or five weeks... bleeding will end soon.

You just sat there in complete shock, a dumbstruck look on your face as she continued to explain it was nothing you did or didn't do, that it's extremely common, that you would likely go on to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy if you wanted. Then she said your name softly and your eyes refocused onto her bright blue ones behind her wire rimmed glasses.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked with a comforting hand on your knee.

Those glasses didn't suit her face at all, they were too round. Why didn't anyone ever tell her?

"Uh," you croaked before clearing your throat. "I'm... I'm on the pill. How did this happen?"

"It's ninety nine percent effective but it's lower if you skip days or forget to take them at the same time. Did that happen last month at all?"

Last month. When you were on the island with Joel. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Um, well, I was in Fiji last month," you began, fingers twisting anxiously in your lap. You still only had a pink paper gown to cover you after your exam. You felt so exposed and raw that your skin hurt.

"Did you account for the time change?" she asked. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your chin to your chest.

"No." How stupid. Why didn't that occur to you? "I might have forgotten a day here and there, too. There was one weekend we were away and I forgot-" you stopped yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

She patted your knee again and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's alright, you're going to be okay," she assured you. You nodded and swallowed thickly before looking back up.

"I know. I just... I thought if this ever happened..." you trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel..." you couldn't finish your sentence but she seemed to understand anyway.

"It's completely normal. You didn't even know until it was already over. You're probably just in shock, it's a lot to take in," she said before kicking off the floor so her stool would roll over to the wall that held various pamphlets. She plucked a few from the hard plastic holders and held them out to you. "These will help explain more of what you're going through, but if you have any questions or if you're finding you need a little extra help to get through this, please give the office a call. We have a twenty four hour service, they'll connect me with you, day or night."

You thanked her softly and stared blankly at the pamphlets while she gathered her things before slipping out of the room, giving you some privacy to get dressed.

It was surreal, driving back home, burdened with this brand new knowledge, this thing you had no idea how to process. Shouldn't you be sad? Shouldn't you grieve the loss in some way? Maybe your doctor was right. Maybe you were in shock.

As you walked up to your building, a familiar olive green truck rumbled up to the curb, tapping out a light beep in greeting and shaking you out of your funk.

"Oh, hey," you said, smiling weakly at Jim when he jumped out with a wave.

"Good timing," he replied before climbing into the back of the truck to hand you a teddy bear with a little rose pinned to its chest. "He's switching it up," Jim said, smile falling when he saw the look on your face. "Hey, everything okay?"

You nodded quickly and reached for the pen to scribble your name. "Yeah, sorry, just tired."

He pressed his lips into a thin line before taking the pen back and giving you one last look.

"Well, get some rest, yeah? Need some help getting up to your place?"

"No, thank you, I'm good," you told him sincerely, then gave him a little wave before heading up the stairs to your building. He called out his usual see you tomorrow and you forced a smile before disappearing inside.

You supposed it was good you hadn't found a job yet. At least you could waste away in your bed until this strange feeling passed and you could process everything.

After you changed back into comfortable clothes with the plan to find some shitty movie to zone out to, you heard your doorbell buzz. With a confused frown, you shuffled back out into the living room, wondering who it could be. Jim had already dropped off Joel's daily gift and Celine had a key.

For one stupid, foolish moment you thought it might be Joel. Like he had somehow, from across the city and with absolutely no knowledge as to what was going on, found out about the miscarriage and came to scoop you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

The mere thought caused tears to sting your eyes and you quickly blinked them away, chalking it up to hormonal changes and the emotional morning.

"Yes?" you called weakly through the speaker.

A man's voice replied with your name posed as a question, followed by got a delivery here for you.

You buzzed him in and curiously craned your neck out into your hall, chewing your lower lip until the elevator dinged and a man dressed in an all brown uniform emerged carrying a large, flat, square package.

When he approached, he confirmed your name again before handing you something to sign, which you did blindly as your focus was still on the box at his feet.

"Where's it from?" you asked, stepping to the side so he could set it against your wall.

"Uh..." he trailed off, distracted momentarily by all the flowers, and then squinted at the paper you just signed. "Fiji Islands. That's pretty rad. Hope it's a vacation," he joked before tucking the clipboard under his arm and exiting back out into the hallway.

It took about ten seconds after he left for you to realize what it was, yet you still shakily opened the box, your palm cupping your mouth when the bubble wrap fell to the floor and Ellie's painting sat before you. You crumpled to the ground and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of pink seashells and stolen kisses and warm brown eyes and whispers of my girl. But it was staring you in the face. The painting that spoke to you before you even understood what it was saying, the painting Joel bought for you without a second thought, before you slept together, before it all fell apart.

Hot tears trickled down your face when you fumbled for your phone, your thumb hovering over the call button next to his name.

Just do it. Just call him. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you it wasn't your fault. You wanted him to stay with you until the blood and the agony passed and everything from the past few hours became a horrible, distant memory.

Perhaps the shock was beginning to wear off.

At the last second, you scrolled up and tapped Celine's name instead. When she heard the broken sound of your voice, she dropped what she was doing to rush over, not even asking for details until you had stopped crying on her shoulder. You told her about your appointment. About the painting. About the seashells. About Brooks. About everything until your voice was raw and your face felt swollen and hot from crying.

She tucked you into bed and laid curled up next to you. She softly told you about her own miscarriage she had when she was nineteen. She told you the pain would go away, that the void inside would eventually fill again. But halfway through some movie she had found that mostly served as background noise, she turned to you and said the words you needed to hear. Like you were waiting for someone else's permission to give in.

"You gotta tell him, babe."

You couldn't even remember how you got there, standing in front of his hotel five days later, body now mostly recovered and fueled by caffeine from the shop three blocks away. It felt like you were drawn to him, like you weren't even making your own decisions, telling yourself you were just going to take a short walk to enjoy the weather and clear your head after downing an iced coffee.

Certainly if you had known you would have been walking through the doors of his lobby, giving the same man from that first day in the same pristine black suit a nervous smile before making your way across the room, sneakers squeaking on the floor as you walked, you would have prepared a little better.

It was quiet. The concierge looked bored and tapped her pen on a pad of paper, chin resting in her fist as she pretended to work. Elevator cars silently whirred up and down on both sides of you, the glass walls allowing you a sneak peek at guests going up to their rooms.

You cleared your throat when you approached reception, your mouth opening to give them your name when a man's surprised voice said it for you.

Swiveling around, you locked eyes with a dark haired man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a black bow tie over his tight fitting white shirt and tailored pants. You gave him a small smile, but your confusion must have been obvious because he blinked and shook his head before stepping forward and offering you his hand.

"I'm Liam," he began, "Joel's assistant."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shaking his hand while the gears slowly turned in your head. "Oh, so you're the one who bought all the clothes and stuff."

Liam grinned and nodded, dropping your hand so he could wrap both arms around the pad-folio pressed to his chest.

"I had pictures to work with when I was choosing colors. You know, so I could best compliment your hair and skin tone. I hope you liked everything."

"Yes! Oh, yes, everything was beautiful, thank you so much," you said hurriedly, then lowered your voice when you realized you were echoing. "Uh, is he in?"

Liam's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Yes, thank god," he breathed, waving you over to an elevator and pressing the button. "I was afraid you were just here picking something up. I'm so glad you want to see him, he's been -"

You frowned when Liam seemed to realize he was saying too much and he cut himself off, lips pursing as he stared at the unopened elevator.

"What?"

Liam shook his head and shrugged right when the doors slid open. He beckoned for you to enter first before following, pressing the pad of his finger into a scanner and tapping a button. Only when the doors shut did he turn back to you.

"He's been worse than usual. I think he's upset about whatever happened," he explained, then waved his hands in the air and added, "I mean, he didn't tell me anything, but I'm assuming something happened because he's picking out flowers every single morning and asking me to have them delivered."

"He's been picking them out?" you repeated.

Liam just nodded. "It's none of my business, but he's never had me do this for anyone before. And I've worked for him for ten years," he said dramatically, raising his thick eyebrows at you knowingly.

"Oh," you said softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open, leading you out into the same hallway you walked down over two months ago when you first met. Butterflies instantly bloomed in your stomach as you followed behind Liam, keeping your gaze low while you tried to regulate your breathing. You had no idea how you were going to tell him, no rehearsed speech, nothing.

"He's in a meeting right now, but it'll be over in," Liam glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes. I'll take you to his office and let him know you're here when he's done."

You nodded and turned the corner, Joel's office already in view when you walked by the executive conference room. It looked the same as it did in your memory, the wall that bordered the hallway made of glass and inside, a long table with high back leather chairs. Only this time, people were inside having what appeared to be a very important meeting. Men and women in suits filled the table. Papers, mugs of coffee and laptops were scattered everywhere. The flat screen televisions projected extremely big numbers connected to various cities, presumably the locations of The Parador, but what made you stumble was seeing Joel at the head of the table.

His black tie was loosened around his neck, suit coat draped over the back of his chair as he stared at the screen, then his phone, gaze bouncing back and forth while next to him, a sweaty looking man gripping a laptop with one flat, shaky hand, spoke about the numbers.

You unconsciously slowed, unable to tear your eyes away when Joel stood up. His gaze was pinned to something on his phone, which now rested on the table. He was still listening to the man on his left but the more he spoke, the angrier Joel looked. You saw his nostrils flare and his jaw set while he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the irritation rolling off his tight shoulders until he finally snapped.

Their voices were muffled, but you probably wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about, anyway. Joel's brows were knit together, lips curled into a sneer as he spoke loudly enough to the group for you to hear the deep timber of his voice from where you stood in the hall.

Liam didn't say a word, allowing you to come to a standstill and watch Joel with a sly smirk from a few feet away.

You couldn't explain the feeling you had as you watched him, never before seeing him at work with your own two eyes. You knew he was important, obviously, but there was just something about the way he commanded the room, the way full grown men practically cowered when he began to pace around, his finger pointing at the sweaty man and then the screen. It made your heart race and your lips part as your breathing grew shallow, like you were in a trance.

And then Joel spun around, his eyes locking on yours through the glass like he suddenly sensed your presence, and the room went silent. His back instantly straightened and his brows relaxed and then a moment later he was storming towards the glass door.

"Joel?" you heard one of the men at the table call out when the door flung open.

"We're done, meeting's over," he tossed back over his shoulder. If you could have looked away from him, you would have seen the relieved look on all their faces as they began to hastily gather their things.

He stalked up to you, slowing to a stop when he was a couple feet away, then scanned you up and down, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

Neither of you spoke. You just stared at one another, hearts thundering wildly in your chests.

"Hey," he finally breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder he might scare you off.

"Hi," you replied timidly. Your gaze flickered around to Liam, to other people pretending to work within earshot, and to the people filing out of the conference room before meeting his eye again.

He finally snapped out of it and held out an arm, ushering you towards the direction of his office.

"C'mon," was all he said, and you quickly scurried down the hall with Joel hot on your heels.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?" Liam called. You could hear the smile in his voice before you turned around and said, "Water would be nice."

"I got water in here," Joel said gruffly, his hand gently grazing your lower back. He turned around to Liam and said, "No interruptions," before closing the door behind you both.

You looked around his office, everything just how you remembered it. Massive mahogany desk, dark green couch and chair near the well stocked bar, the entire room surrounded by bookshelves, awards, and various decor items, but no picture frames. How didn't you notice that before?

"Have a seat," Joel said, sliding past to get you ice water from the bar. You sunk down into the green couch, feeling just as nervous as the last time you were there.

"Thank you," you said when he placed the glass on a coaster. He nodded and seemed to take a moment before deciding to sit in the chair, giving you your space.

"I'm glad you came," he said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Your dirty sneakers pressing into his expensive carpet and your frayed jeans... you couldn't even remember the last time they were washed.

"Yeah," you replied, voice sounding nothing like your own. You reached for your water and took a sip before carefully setting it down, fearful of even one drop landing on the rug or table. "I'm sorry. You were in a meeting, I would have waited."

"Fuck 'em," he said, and your eyes rose to find his. God, they looked so soft and kind, the way the sunlight hit them took your breath away. "Would rather talk to you than any of 'em," he added with a little smile.

"I got the painting," you told him. "It's beautiful, thank you," you added warmly, then frowned a bit when he excitedly stood to hurry behind his desk.

"That reminds me, I got somethin' else for you."

"Oh, Joel, please don't tell me it's more flowers," you begged, and he laughed lightly before bringing over a small black shopping bag. There was a designer label stamped on the side and you frowned.

"It ain't that - just open it," he insisted, handing you the bag before sitting back down on the edge of his seat.

Hesitantly, you peered inside, and what awaited you tore your heart in two.

"Joel..."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Was gonna leave it by your door or somethin' later," he said, his brown eyes sparkling as you lifted one of many pink seashells out of the bag to get a closer look.

"When did you -"

"Had to go back for a couple days and sign some paperwork," he explained. Your eyebrows pulled together and tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at the beautiful seashells he had collected, all for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly setting it back into the bag and placing it at your feet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his soft tone matching yours.

Alright. It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, rubbing your palms anxiously over the tops of your thighs, but before you could get a word out, he spoke again.

"I wanna tell you everythin'," he said. All the air left your lungs and you swallowed tightly. "I mean it. I'll tell you everythin', and not 'cause you want me to, 'cause I want to. I've been doin' alotta thinkin', and -"

"Joel," you interrupted. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"No, Joel, I need to tell you something," you said. He must have heard something change in your voice because he stopped talking. He searched your face for any indication of what was to come, but of course came up empty.

"Okay," he said slowly. He watched your fingers fidget nervously in your lap and suddenly you couldn't make eye contact with him anymore.

"I don't really know how to say this," you began.

Oh fuck, you've met someone else, was his first thought.

"I, uh," then you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line and panic seized his throat.

Something was wrong.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. He tried to inch forward but if he moved any more he would fall off the damn chair. "Go ahead, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

One single tear slid down your cheek and he swore he stopped breathing when you said the words I had a miscarriage.

"What?" he whispered, pain and confusion clouding his face.

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him.

"I had a miscarriage and I just thought you had a right to know."

Your voice trembled and cracked as you forced the words out and he couldn't hold back any longer. He stood and rushed to your side, just like you always knew he would, just like you wanted. He enveloped you in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He rocked you back and forth, strong arms curled around your midsection, and you melted. You melted into him and didn't even try to fight it. For the past week, hell, for the past month, it was all you wanted.

"When?" he choked out. You circled your arms around him and your legs were suddenly pulled across his lap. He smelled so good, like that cologne you never could identify but was so distinctly him. You dragged in a deep breath, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"About a week ago."

Joel's grip around you tightened.

"You shoulda called me, baby. I woulda been there."

"I know," you sniffled. You rubbed the back of your hand under your nose and tried to breathe deep. "I know. But I didn't know it even happened until I went to the doctor."

You told him the whole story. Told him how you thought it was a bad period, how Celine called your doctor, how she explained what likely happened and that it was your own stupid fucking fault for messing up your pill.

"It ain't your fault," he told you, his voice reverberating in his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, fingers grappling at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not mad?" you whimpered.

"Baby, please," he begged, "'Course I ain't mad. Don't go carryin' this 'round. Don't carry that guilt. If it was meant to be, it would be, alright?"

Your tears flowed, then, unstoppable as they barreled down your cheeks. Your sobs could probably be heard from the other side of the door but you didn't care. Joel continued to hold you, cradle you, and hum soothingly against the top of your head until your tears slowed and your breath grew ragged.

"Are you okay?" he asked after you quieted down. His hand was flat against your back, rubbing wide circles as you continued to cling to him.

"Yeah, I think so," you said truthfully. "I just didn't expect it and then with the hormone change, it all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, "yeah, I get it. Is there anythin' I can do? Anythin' you need?"

You shook your head, biting down hard on your lip so you didn't say I just need you.

It seemed as though maybe he read your mind, or maybe he really had been giving things alot of thought because the next thing he said was, "I wanna do this right."

You felt the next wave of tears coming so you burrowed further into him, pressing your face against his neck, breathing him in and letting him slowly put you back together with each comforting stroke of his hand.

"Lemme do this right, sweetheart, please. Tell me how to fix it."

You didn't have the answer. Your eyes were dry and burning from all the tears you had just spilled and you felt completely drained. Every muscle in your body felt weak and useless, the last thing you wanted to do was think.

You continued to sit in silence, the only sound coming from the gold mantle clock slowly ticking away the seconds and some very faint murmuring when groups of people would walk by Joel's office. You closed your eyes, encased in his warmth, and let your mind drift back to everything that went wrong, wondering how you would do things differently if you could go back in time. Then you remembered something Joel had said on the plane and your eyes snapped open.

"What if we started over?"

His thumb, which was drawing slow, comforting circles over your arm, paused.

"You'd - yeah," he agreed, sounding a little breathless, "yeah, I think that's a good idea."

You sat up, untangling yourself from him so you could sit properly on the couch. You pulled your legs from his lap and tucked them underneath you before sticking out your hand and reintroducing yourself with a shaky smile.

He gave you a little grin before taking your hand in his, eyes glistening when he said, "Joel Miller."

It was impossible to keep the smile from your face when you heard the buzzer, followed by Joel's deep voice letting you know he was there to pick you up for your date.

Your "first" date.

With a skip in your step, you trotted to the elevator, tapped your foot impatiently all the way down, and practically ran out into the lobby with excitement. You caught yourself at the last second, making sure you looked more collected and cool than you really felt before pushing open the front doors.

And there he stood, in all his glory, at the bottom of your building's stone steps. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive black suit, and he grinned when he saw you for the first time, a stark contrast from the last time you each stood in those spots.

"You look beautiful," he murmured when you got closer, eyes dropping appreciatively to take in the light blue floral dress you chose, then bent over to plant a kiss on your cheek. The way his scruff tickled your skin had a wave of goosebumps flashing over your arms, making you shiver.

"Thank you," you said, scooting into the backseat of his car when he held the door open for you.

"Hi, Richie."

"Hey, honey," he replied with a smile and wink in the review mirror.

Joel rounded the back of the car and slipped in beside you, then gave Richie a nod to start driving.

"Wait, where are we going?" you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"Got a reservation at this French restaurant that just opened up. Supposed to be impossible to get in but, well..." he smirked a little and shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

"Uh, I was actually thinking of something else."

Joel gave you a curious look. "Like what?"

"Like... maybe getting pizza at Sal's and then catching the 9:45 showing of Shadow Strike?" you offered with a cheesy smile. Joel laughed, eyes crinkling as he tipped his head back. Seeing him so relaxed and happy was truly a sight to behold.

"Anythin' you want," he replied, then leaned forward. "Hear that, Richie?"

"Yes, sir."

Joel patted the headrest twice and sat back, brown eyes dancing when they found you again.

"Hole in the wall pizza joint and a movie theater? I'm gonna regret wearin' these shoes, ain't I?"

You looked down at the shiny, black leather and giggled.

"How much were they?"

"Seven hundred."

"Oh, yeah, you'll definitely regret it."

The floors at Sal's left little to be desired, for sure, but the pizza was undeniably the best in town. One bite had Joel forgetting all about the stained laminate flooring.

"Right?" you asked excitedly when his eyebrows raised in surprise.

He only nodded, his mouth full until he swallowed and said, "Didn't think there was any decent pizza out here. Reminds me of New York pizza," before taking another large bite.

You giggled and leaned across the high top table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese.

"I'll have to take your word for it, I've never been."

"You've never been to New York?" he echoed incredulously, and you shook you head as you took another bite. Joel gave you a fake look of disappointment before saying, "I'll have to take you with me next time."

"Do you go often?" you asked, tucking away the idea of traveling again with Joel for later.

"Yeah, 'sides the hotel out here, New York's my biggest source of revenue."

"For now, right?" you countered. He grinned and wiped the corner of his mouth with a thin paper napkin.

"We're a long ways off from openin' in Fiji, but, yeah, that one's projected to make the most."

You nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence while you finished your food.

"Alright," Joel said after balling up his napkins and tossing them onto his greasy paper plate. "Where're you from?"

You laughed and felt your cheeks warm when you replied, "You already know that."

"It's our first date," he reminded you with an adorable smile. His forearms were crossed and resting on the tabletop. He leaned forward like he was sharing a secret, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting when other customers saw him in his sharp, black suit, completely out of place for the setting.

"Okay, I'll play," you decided, leaning forward to mimic his posture. "I'm from Tennessee."

"And what brought you all the way out here?"

You laughed and said, "College."

"You lose your accent or did you never have one?" he asked.

"Uh, I might've had a small accent when I first moved, but I'm afraid it's long gone now. Not like yours," you pointed out.

When you first met, Joel refused to share anything about himself. You were delighted to find out that had changed.

"Grew up in Texas. Whenever I feel it fadin', I know it's time to go back for a visit," he joked, watching your eyes light up when he freely shared something about himself.

"W-where in Texas?" you stammered. You were still unsure of how much he was willing to share, so you figured you would keep your questions to a minimum. But once again, he shocked you.

"Austin. Parents are still out there somewhere. Little brother, too, pretty sure."

"Oh," you replied softly. You grew nervous at the mention of his brother, remembering how the last time he was brought up didn't go so well, so you chose to leave the topic alone and instead focused on his parents.

"Are you close with your mom and dad?"

Joel shrugged, appearing calm on the outside but he could feel his heart pumping faster and his foot began to tap anxiously. If it weren't for the noisy, sticky floor giving him away, you may not have noticed, but you did.

He was nervous, but he was still trying.

You reached out to gently squeeze his arm, making him smile.

"We don't have to," you whispered. We can go slow, it's okay.

"Not as close as I used to be," he said, ignoring the out you gave and allowing the words to tumble out of him all at once. "Y'know how families are. Stupid fights 'n all that."

You nodded vigorously in agreement. "Same with me. Well, I never got along great with my parents. I was always looking for a reason to leave. I applied to schools as far away from home as possible, then me and my best friend both got into UC and it was a no brainer."

Joel looked relieved when you pulled the focus back onto yourself. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned forward.

"The friend you were tellin' me 'bout?" he asked, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence. The one who called the doctor.

"Celine," you offered, "yeah. We've been friends forever."

On the way back to his car, you told him a story from when you and Celine were in high school. Back when you were underage and dumb and drank too much at a house party to impress a boy and you ended up vomiting into some boxwoods while Celine held your hair back.

"The neighbor boy?" Joel guessed.

"You remembered," you said, sounding impressed. He gave you a knowing look, lips pulling into half a smirk, like he were saying of course I remembered.

"Well, yeah. The very same," you confirmed with a deep breath. You fidgeted with the skirt of your dress, trying to hide the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. Even though you had history, that night somehow really did feel like a first date.

Joel took your hand when you stepped out of the car and he led you into the movie theater, only letting you go when he needed both hands to pay for your tickets.

"I had my first kiss in a movie theater," Joel said as he stood in line beside you for popcorn. You tilted your head to look at him, excited once again he was sharing something personal about himself.

"What movie was it?"

"Indiana Jones," he replied without hesitation. Then you laughed when he added, "I was so nervous the whole time, barely saw a minute of it. Kept psychin' myself up to make a move and couldn't think 'bout anythin' else."

"I can't imagine you nervous," you teased, then right before the clerk called you up to the counter, you locked eyes.

"You make me nervous all the time."

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability, and then a second later he was at the counter ordering.

"C'mon, don't wanna miss the beginning," he said as he handed you your drink and motioned towards the theaters, completely unperturbed.

When you picked the movie, you figured a standard action flick would be pretty safe. You steered clear of anything romantic, not wanting to inadvertently draw parallels to your own relationship, and you even avoided horror because you had a tendency to cling to the person you're with out of fear. Yet somehow you still found yourself inching closer to him.

At first, you crossed your legs and your foot grazed his knee. Purely accidental. You even apologized and shifted a bit to create more space. But then you kept leaning on the armrest between you and your head tilted to rest between both seats. You wanted to blame it on the fact that he held the popcorn bucket, but he was kind enough to move it closer so you wouldn't have to reach so far.

Around the halfway point of the movie, his hand found your knee. If you recalled correctly, it was during one of the rare funny parts of the movie and you both had leaned forward to laugh. His hand grabbed you for support and just kind of... stayed there.

After that, you had trouble following the plot.

"Wait... who is he again?" you whispered. Joel's fingers flexed on your knee when he leaned over and you were eternally grateful the dark room hid how flustered it made you.

"The marine? He's the brother from earlier."

"Oh, right," you replied, and you must not have sounded very convincing because he gave you a look and you giggled, slapping your palm over your mouth when the people a couple rows ahead of you turned around.

Joel grinned and remained where he was instead of straightening back up.

A few more minutes went by. You pretended to watch the movie but he was too distracting, being that close. Your gaze kept drifting off the screen and down to his hand, then from his hand up to his face, admiring the way the light from the film played across his perfect side profile.

He felt your eyes on him and he turned his head, still smiling when he asked, "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with a vigorous nod. Then you found yourself leaning a little closer and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again.

It wasn't your fault. He looked so ridiculous and handsome in his expensive suit eating buttery popcorn in an old movie theater. You simply couldn't help yourself. You both inched forward at the same time and gently pressed your lips together. At first, it was timid and sweet and sent a spark down your spine. It felt so nice to kiss him again after so long and after everything that happened, you easily lost yourself in him.

Too easily.

By the time the credits rolled and the dim lights slowly turned back on, you had both hands buried in his hair and his tongue halfway down your throat. When you realized that people could see you, you hurriedly pulled apart at the exact same time. Joel's hand, which had once been on your knee and had since traveled up the skirt of your dress, gave your thigh a little squeeze before begrudgingly untangling himself from you.

"Maybe we should go," you said, giving him a shy glance after fixing yourself up a bit.

"Yeah, just... gimme a minute," he replied, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling as he took a few deep, focused breaths. The theater was almost empty and you were about to ask what was wrong when you noticed the bulge in his pants. Heat flooded your face and you looked away to hide your laughter, but he caught you.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" he asked. He tried to sound serious but he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"A little," you admitted when you looked back at him. He grinned and finally stood up with a groan, tugging his suit coat closed before reaching for your hand.

"I'll remember that," he warned as he led you down the steps and back out into the lobby.

Once you were settled in his car with Richie driving through the dark, quiet streets back towards your apartment, you turned to Joel and asked, "Better than Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, no contest, baby," he murmured with a sly smile.

You giggled and let his fingers thread through yours on top of the seat. Your cheeks ached from how much you laughed and smiled that night. Admittedly, you had your doubts you would be able to really start over after everything that happened, but things felt so different now. In large part, that had to do with Joel and how much he was trying. He pushed himself to open up to you a little bit, despite his uneasiness, and he had no problem agreeing to a normal first date at the last minute.

He was really trying, and he was doing it for you.

"I got it, Richie," Joel said when the car pulled up to your curb and the driver had moved to unbuckle his belt. He gave Joel a nod in the review mirror and stayed put as Joel swung his door open to step outside. Then his eyes shifted to yours and he smiled.

"Have a good night, honey."

"Thanks, Richie, you too," you said warmly just as Joel opened your door.

He held out his hand and you took it, steadying yourself to stand, and gave him a grateful smile right when he pushed the door shut. Wrapping your arms around the crook of his elbow, he led you up the steps to the front door of your building, only letting you go to search for your keys.

"Well, thank you," you said, sounding a little more breathless than you intended, but Joel seemed to like it because his brown eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched when he heard the desire laced in your voice. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he murmured as he casually leaned against the doorframe, playfully cocking his head to the side as he sized you up and down. "Y'know, I've never seen your place," he said innocently, but when your jaw dropped in mock offense and you gave his shoulder a gentle push, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Excuse me, I don't put out on the first date," you joked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"No, 'course not. Was just pointin' out a fact, is all," Joel replied with a matching grin of his own.

"Oh, is that all?" you echoed, leaning forward and wrapping his tie around your fist, then giving it a gentle tug so he would meet you halfway.

"Yeah," he whispered right before your mouths found each other once again. You could still taste the salt and butter from the popcorn on his lips as he crowded you against the door, both his hands flying up to cup each side of your face, cradling it gently while his lips massaged yours. There was just something about him that always had you melting into a puddle at his feet, and that evening was no exception. You had to tear yourself away with a soft laugh before you broke your rule and invited him upstairs.

"Can we do this again?" he asked as you slid your key into the door. You pushed it open and stepped inside, turning back to face him.

"I would love that."

Joel grinned and promised he would call before you waved goodnight and disappeared into the lobby.

When your elevator opened up on your floor, you hurried to your apartment, exhausted but giddy with excitement at how perfect the date went. You flicked on your lights and locked your door before kicking your heels off and throwing your purse onto the couch, but not before digging out your phone to taken with you as you got changed and ready for bed.

You had just finished brushing your teeth, not ten minutes after he left, when your phone rang. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw his name, and you slipped between your bedsheets before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

You could hear the road noise in the background when you asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Nope. Just said I would call."

You laughed and pulled your blankets up around your chin.

"I thought that meant maybe tomorrow."

"Miss you, didn't wanna wait," he answered immediately. You bit your lower lip and even though he couldn't see you, you pressed your palm over your cheeks when you felt them grow hot.

"I miss you, too," you whispered.

After a beat of silence where you were each smiling like fools for no one to see, he spoke again.

"What do you wanna do for our next date?"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment. "How about you pick the next one since I picked this one? We can take turns."

You heard his deep chuckle on the other end and you grinned.

"I like it. You're on."

You figured Joel would pick something a little fancier than you, but you weren't expecting him to propose a date to the opera for your fourth date. It was a far cry from the shitty little dive bar around the corner that had a really fun trivia night you dragged him to a few days before.

Joel! I don't have anything to wear to the opera!

I kept all your clothes. I'll have Liam drop off some things before EOD.

Before you even had a chance to process the fact Joel had kept everything from your trip to Fiji and what that could possibly mean, your phone pinged with another text.

Told you you should've kept them

You grinned and shook your head.

And I told *you* I don't have the room

When are you gonna let me see this tiny apartment of yours?

You glanced around your living room, the space was cozy but definitely not spacious. It was hard to even imagine Joel there. Would he even like it? He was definitely used to a very different lifestyle than you. You were nervously chewing your nail, lost in thought, when your phone pinged again.

Sorry, not trying to pressure you, that's not what I meant

Shit, you took too long to answer and had him second guessing himself.

I know lol I was just reading an email - sorry

It wasn't entirely untrue. Your laptop sat open on your coffee table, your email program sitting before you.

Any luck on the job front?

No... not yet. Fortunately I have a handsome benefactor paying my rent for the next two months ;)

Your handsome benefactor would really like it if you let him help you find a job, baby

You rolled your eyes and sighed before typing out, don't you have a company to run?

I can do two things at once

You laughed to yourself and leaned back into your couch, staring at your phone longingly.

Since your first date with Joel, you had spoken every single day, approximately two weeks. What surprised you the most was the constant stream of texts he sent you throughout the day. You saw how he was in Fiji, you knew he was busy and had meetings and calls around the clock. How on earth he managed to do both still astounded you.

Because he was really trying, a little voice in the back of your head piped up.

He really did seem like a completely different man from the one you first met. Traces of him were still there: he hadn't yet come clean about his daughter or brother, but every time you saw each other, he made a point of sharing something new about himself. He told you a handful of stories from when he was younger, living in Texas. He told you his brother was a contractor but that was the only thing you knew about him. And that was okay. You wanted him to tell you about himself on his own terms, without feeling pressured, and that was exactly what he was doing.

Well I need to shower and figure out what to do with my hair for tonight. Unfortunately my phone's not waterproof so I guess I'll just see you later?

Looking forward to it - I'll let you know when to expect Liam

Like he promised, Liam arrived around four in the afternoon with an armful of dresses draped over one arm and a bag of shoes in the other.

"Oh, god, here - lemme help you," you said when you saw how much he was carrying from the elevator. He shot you a relieved smile when you grabbed a few things from his arms and helped him inside your apartment. He took one quick glance around and said, "Cute," before laying the dresses out on your couch and unzipping the bags.

"Alright. I brought a few pieces I thought would work best. You're free to do whatever, of course, but I would recommend the Chanel dress with the Valentino shoes."

Your eyes darted around at the items suddenly taking up all of the space in your living room and tried not to look completely out of your depth, but he must have been able to tell because he snatched up both items and handed them to you.

"Oh, thanks," you told him. The Chanel dress was a slinky black number you never had a chance to wear on the island, and the shoes were strappy heels you thought you wore once to a dinner with Zoe.

"Have you seen La Traviata before?" Liam asked. You chuckled and shook your head.

"I've never even been to the opera before."

Liam smiled and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you'll have such a great time! This is a great one to see. Especially from the box. You'll be able to see everything and won't have to dodge horrible hairdos or top hats."

"B-box? Joel's got box seats?" you stammered. He laughed and began to open a small toiletry bag filled with jewelry.

"Of course he does."

Liam held up a few necklaces before settling on a thin chain of diamonds and setting it aside. He then dug out matching earrings and a bracelet while he asked, "What are you planning to do with your hair?"

You had washed and dried it but otherwise, you hadn't gotten further than that.

"Uh, just wear it down, I guess."

Liam straightened up and gave you a once over. "Want some help?"

Relief flooded your veins and you quickly nodded. "Do you mind?"

He smiled and shook his head before flapping his hands, ushering you towards your bathroom.

"Not at all. Let's see what you're working with."

"Jesus, you look beautiful," Joel murmured for the fourth time since he picked you up. He had one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, pulling you close to his side as you weaved through the lobby of the opera house. You owed it all to Liam. He was a lifesaver. He picked out your outfit and helped curl your hair where you couldn't reach it, keeping you distracted while he told you about his boyfriend's parents and their lavish home in Malibu.

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking him up and down in his sharp, black tuxedo before reminding him how good he looked, too.

"You wanna get a drink before it starts? We got 'bout ten minutes," he said, looking quickly at his watch before catching your eye.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm good," you replied, looking past him to admire the ornate architecture. "Do you come to the opera often?"

"Not as much as I like," he told you while leading you towards a flight of carpeted stairs in the corner of the room. "Don't usually have many dates," he added with a little smirk. You smiled back, heart fluttering a little in your chest at how relaxed and happy he seemed.

He had been so good about opening up lately, you decided to test the waters and see how he would react.

"When was your last relationship?"

He faltered for just a quick moment when he reached out to pull back the red velvet curtain that led to your box seats, but he recovered nicely.

"You mean a real relationship?" he asked, and you nodded. He pulled out your chair and you swept the skirt of your dress underneath you before sitting down and thanking him.

"Well, that woulda been with Sarah's mom."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you twisted in your seat to look at him. He was fixing his suit coat, looking down as his fingers nervously fidgeted with the buttons while he spoke.

"Was a long time ago. Sarah's fifteen now," he added, clearing his throat before locking eyes with you.

You swallowed and nodded before forcing yourself to reply, trying not to look too eager to hear more.

"That's a long time."

"Explains why I'm so rusty," he joked, cracking a little smile which you quickly reciprocated.

"You're not as rusty as you think," you teased. "I've been having a really great time the past couple weeks."

His smile softened and he instinctively found your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

"Me, too," he murmured, dark eyes sparkling in the dim lighting from the chandeliers hanging over the auditorium.

His hand rarely left yours the entire three hours. The brief moments where the audience was expected to clap were the only exception, and then his hand immediately fell to yours once again. There was something so sweet and tender about the gesture, it made your chest squeeze and had you wishing you could curl into his side and wrap yourself around him.

What was wonderful was he didn't expect anything from you in these two short weeks, but then again, he never really did. Not in the way you were thinking, anyway. But that particular evening, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about it. It might have been the heart-wrenchingly beautiful arias, or his thick fingers laced between yours, or how fucking good he looked in his tux, but whatever it was, it was driving you crazy. During the final hour of the performance, you were trying not to squirm in your seat too much and distract him because it truly was a beautiful opera, and you enjoyed it much more than you expected, but your close proximity and constant contact had your body reacting in ways that were not appropriate for the setting.

Even in the car on the way back to your apartment, you struggled to carry on a simple fucking conversation with him, allowing Joel to do most of the talking as he described his favorite parts while your eyes subtly darted between him and Richie, wishing more than ever that Joel would use that goddamn partition you knew the car had but he never seemed to utilize.

The three dates you've had before all ended the same way. Richie had figured out by now that Joel preferred to open your door himself, so he remained seated after giving you a quick good night over his shoulder while Joel slid out of the car to walk you up. He would kiss you, tell you what a fun time he had, maybe offer up a suggestion for your next date and probably give you a flirty little joke or comment before kissing you one last time with the promise to call.

This time, you only let him get to the first kiss before you whispered against his lips, "Do you want to come up and finally see my apartment?"

He pulled back like he had been electrocuted and you stifled a giggle at the serious look on his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tried to formulate a response.

"Or, you know, you could see it another time if you're tired," you added, hiding your smirk when you turned to unlock your front door.

"N-no, that's - y'sure?" he asked from over your shoulder. You pushed open the door and took one step inside before turning back around. Dragging your gaze up and down his body, you looked him dead in the eye when you said, "Absolutely."

Joel waved Richie off when you turned to drag him into your building, praying the ancient elevator wouldn't take forever like it normally did. You were in luck: it opened right away for once, and you quickly stepped inside before repeatedly jabbing the button for your floor. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist when the doors closed.

"That excited to show me your place, hm?" he murmured, his lips brushing over your bare shoulder. You leaned back into his chest, head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering when his prickly mustache tickled your neck.

"Mhmm," you hummed, then bravely added, "especially my bedroom."

He groaned and gently bit at the skin behind your ear, teeth grazing over a tender spot, making you shudder.

"C'mon," you muttered once the doors slid open, grabbing his hand and hauling him down the hall towards your apartment. When you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise when you almost ran into your neighbor.

"Oh! Mrs. Adams! Hi... s-sorry," you stammered at the elderly woman wrapped in her robe with her tiny white dog cradled in her arms.

"Ma'am," Joel said with a friendly nod.

She said your name in greeting, then gave Joel a suspicious look over her shoulder before disappearing inside your abandoned elevator. You giggled and knocked your door open with your hip, pulling him inside and locking the door while flicking on your lights.

With one hand on your lower back, he looked around your meager apartment, standing in the middle of your living room slash kitchen in his tuxedo looking more out of place than you could have ever imagined, but it didn't bother you. Turned out, you liked seeing him in your space. You wanted to have memories of him sitting on your couch or eating at your table or taking a shower in your bathroom.

"I like it," he said, eyes still darting around to take in every little thing. Then he spotted some framed photographs on your entertainment center and he took a step forward.

"Can we look at those later?" you asked, tugging him back. He grinned and nodded before cupping your jaw and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

"You got somethin' else in mind?" he teased, but you just nodded earnestly and began to tug at his tie. He chuckled and watched you yank it from around his neck, dropping it on your floor before beginning to undo his buttons.

His hands fell to your sides, running up and down and plucking at the slinky fabric of your dress while you undid half the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Pleased to find he wasn't wearing an undershirt, you lunged forward and started to leave a trail of wet kisses leading from the center of his chest all the way up to the corner of his mouth.

"Missed you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed while you worked on sucking a bruise into his neck. Your fingers worked faster now, tugging the shirt from his dress pants and fumbling with the remaining buttons.

"Me, too," you whispered, lips still nipping at his skin, tongue darting out to press against his pulse. His shirt finally fell open and your nails lightly dragged down his chest when you added, "Need you. Please, Joel... kiss me."

You didn't need to ask twice.

His mouth collided with yours, all messy and urgent, and he began to walk you backwards towards the open door of your bedroom. He deftly worked the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down as he walked, mouth still seared across yours.

When you stepped through the threshold, your heels transitioning from hardwood to carpet, you blindly flung a hand out and flicked a light switch. In the corner of your room, a floor lamp turned on, casting you both in a soft glow when Joel finally pushed you down onto your bed.

His eyes, dark and filled with desire, dragged up and down your body while he unbuttoned his cuffs and shrugged off his shirt. Your dress was unzipped but still hung from your shoulders as you watched him slowly work his belt with bated breath.

"I like your room," he told you, tone casual like he wasn't taking off his pants and palming his cock through his boxers.

"Thanks," you laughed as you began to squirm out of your dress. He grinned and grabbed a heel in each hand before sliding them off and tossing them into a corner. "I can't imagine the kind of bedroom you have. Probably as big as the entire floor of this building."

"You'll have to come over and see," Joel said, eyes glued to your dress when it slid to the floor. He knelt on the edge of your mattress, old bed squeaking under his weight, then fell forward to hover above you.

He traced a finger along your jaw, mesmerized for a moment as he admired you up close. When he heard your breathing stutter under the scrutiny, his gaze flickered up to yours and he pinched your chin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everythin'. For every time I pushed you away 'n every time I made you cry."

The sudden shift in mood stunned you for a second and he took the opportunity to press his lips firmly against yours, tethering you together for just a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you for givin' me another chance," he whispered, closing his eyes and nudging his nose gently against yours. "I won't fuck this up again, baby, I promise."

"You better fucking not," you sniffled, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him into another deep kiss so he wouldn't see your eyes grow watery.

"There's my girl," he chuckled at your sass when he broke away to pepper kisses along your jaw. My girl. Hearing those words shot a bolt of arousal through you and your hips began to subtly rock upwards, seeking out some friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

"Want me to take care of you?" he murmured into your skin. "Want me to make you feel good, baby?"

"Yeah," you whined, hips bucking upwards to chase his hand that dropped between your thighs, fingers teasing at your seam through your soaked panties. Then he hooked the fabric to the side, his mouth finding yours right when he slid two thick fingers inside you, swallowing down your gasp and groaning at the sharp bite of pain from your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shit," you whispered when he began to plunge them in and out, curling and flexing his fingers inside your wet walls, soaked from the arousal building since you first saw him in his tuxedo when he picked you up.

Joel hummed, relishing in the familiar feel around him and trying to hold himself back from pulling his hand out from between your legs so he could bury his cock deep inside you, instead.

But he refused to be selfish. He said he wanted to take care of you, and he meant it. He meant it in every imaginable way.

All he wanted was you.

"So beautiful, y'know that?" he mumbled, mouth dragging over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your chin. "So warm 'n perfect, missed havin' you like this," he continued, lips twitching when he saw your eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall open when his fingertips brushed against that spot that had you reduced to a mumbling mess underneath him.

Joel could sense he had you right on the edge. He heard it in the way your breath came in staggered gasps and could feel it in the way your legs began to quake. He picked up the pace, breath puffing hot and fast from his nose, eyes locked on your face, eager to watch you fall apart for him after what felt like an eternity without you.

Then his face broke out into a cocky grin when the heel of his palm started to slap against your clit with each snap of his wrist. The noises you made for him were like music to his ears, a symphony of his name and more and don't stop and a litany of curses.

"Gonna come for me, darlin'? Gonna come 'n let me fuck this perfect little pussy?" he growled while biting gently at your earlobe. You whined and tipped your head back, pushing deep into your pillow as the pleasure mounted low in your belly, burning bright when it finally spilled over with a pathetic hoarse whimper. Joel groaned when your nails dragged down unexpectedly hard, leaving angry red trails over the skin of his back. Marks he would catch in the mirror on Monday and grin proudly at his reflection after he stepped out of his shower.

"Fuck, Joel," you panted, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. You looked so beautiful like that. All fucked out, hair a mess, skin hot, lips swollen. He dove down and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging before letting it go and slipping his tongue into your eager mouth. His fingers had slowed to a stop inside you, but he could still feel your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. A feeling he craved and now that he had it again, feared he may go insane if he didn't feel it around his painfully hard cock very soon.

As if you read his mind, you dragged your mouth away from his to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Joel," and he swore the edges of his vision blurred from just your request alone.

A high pitched moan slipped past your lips when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs. You rolled your head to the side, the sudden emptiness causing you to writhe in discomfort, but you wouldn't have to wait very long.

He reached around to unhook your strapless bra and tossed it onto your floor, like he was mad at it for keeping you from him. Then he made short work of your underwear, which you looked relieved to finally be rid of, before pulling down his boxers and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught your gaze drop and your teeth sunk into your lower lip before sitting up.

"I wanna suck it," you announced, but when you began to lean down, he grabbed your shoulders and hauled you up.

"Not tonight," he told you, and you whined a little as you reached down to stroke him. He groaned and tipped his head back, hips thrusting into your fist on their own accord.

"Please," you pleaded, lips puckering around his adam's apple. And you almost got him. He could hardly resist when you begged, especially with the promise of your warm, soft mouth wrapped around his cock, but he knew he wouldn't last long if he let you.

"Lemme fuck you, baby," he murmured when he gave you a gentle push. You flopped back onto your bed with a playful scowl, tits bouncing a little from the impact when he suddenly reached down to the floor to grab his pants. He pulled out a little foil wrapper and you frowned.

"We don't have to-"

"Just bein' extra careful, alright?" he told you, cutting you off as he rolled the condom on.

"I have an implant now. It won't be a problem like last time," you insisted, but he already tossed the wrapper to the ground and fell onto his elbows, hovering above you.

"Humor me," he said with a little smirk right before his hips pushed your thighs apart, wasting no time lining himself up with your entrance.

Normally, he would go slow. Normally, he would take his time and feed you his cock inch by inch, but on that particular evening, he was too desperate. With one deep grunt and rough thrust, he sheathed himself inside you in one go, making your jaw drop and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Sorry," he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of your pussy gripping him so perfectly sending him reeling. "Sorry," he repeated as the both of you struggled for air, "I didn't mean, I - fuck -" his hips began to move just a little bit and he whimpered when your fingers drifted up to get tangled in his hair.

"It's okay, keep going," you encouraged him, taking a deep breath and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Don't wanna hurt you but, fuck baby, I want you so goddamn bad."

"I know, it's okay, it doesn't hurt," you told him truthfully. His mouth was open, pressed against your chest with his exhale fanning across your skin, making you shiver. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips with a gasp. "God, you're so deep," you moaned, nails scraping his scalp when he began to move a little more steadily.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, voice sounding strained. It was all too much and, somehow, not enough. You clung to him when his hips began to snap against you, jostling your entire body with each earth-shattering thrust. His groans and your whimpers getting lost in each others mouths. Tears stung your eyes when he whispered, "Think 'bout you all the time. Never stop thinkin' 'bout you." And he growled when you admitted the same.

Your shitty little bed frame screamed underneath you the more desperate Joel became, no doubt grabbing the attention of Mrs. Adams across the hall. His hands never stopped moving. They cupped your breast, the back of your neck, your ass, and then his fingers hooked under your knee, pulling your leg to open up your hips.

Your eyes flew open and you cried out at the intense angle, his cock splitting you in two but his kiss put you right back together again. One of his hands fell to grab your hip, his other arm bracing himself next to your head and it felt utterly overwhelming, being completely consumed by him, that you wanted to do the same. You tugged at his hair, nipped at his throat, wrapped your other leg even tighter around his middle.

If he was going to destroy you, you wanted to give it right back.

He appeared to enjoy it. He groaned and his lips curled into a smile when you tried to take a piece of him. It made him slam his hips into your harder, had him plunging his tongue into your mouth with an urgency that sent your back arching off the bed, pressing your bare chest against his.

"You like that?" he mumbled into your mouth, lips barely leaving yours to speak. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

"So - good -" you moaned, each word bookended by a snap of his hips.

"You like gettin' me all worked up? Like drivin' me fuckin' crazy?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," you breathed, smirking at the sound of his words passing through gritted teeth. His chin dropped and his teeth grazed your nipple a little harsher than you expected and you yelped, which melted into a giggle when you felt him smile against your skin.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and, with your lips still curved into a smile, reached down to grab his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while making sure to add a little pinch from your nails. It made him grunt, his hips changing their pace. What was rough, strong thrusts of his hips now faltered to deep strokes which he made sure to drive upwards so he could reach that spot inside you he knew would have you screaming his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, and he chuckled darkly against your throat. "Fuck! Joel... keep - going," you gasped. Your hands were back to clawing at his shoulders while he drove into you over and over. His forehead prickled with sweat and he could feel his curls beginning to stick to his skin but he refused to let up because you were so close. Your slick walls were clenching around him, making him see stars, while you repeatedly whined his name. He smirked to himself, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. Your voice was already hoarse and he could only imagine what it would sound like in the morning, all raw and thick with sleep.

"You gonna come f'me, baby?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly in your ear. You nodded, mouth still hung open in a silent scream. "Then do it. C'mon, wanna feel you," he coaxed. "Wanna feel your tight little pussy milk this cock. Go on, lemme have it."

The ball of tension growing hotter and brighter at the base of your spine finally broke. Your back arched up again and your head flew back into the pillows as your orgasm rolled through your entire body, his name reduced to just a mere whimper on your lips, unable to give anything else. Your muscles weakened and you collapsed back into the bedding, your brain in a fog. Meanwhile, Joel reared back and dragged your hips onto his lap, pounding steadily into your used cunt, all frantic and delirious in his movements until he slammed into you one final time with a deep, prolonged groan.

Your eyes slid closed, but his mouth was back on yours in an instant. Soft, tender kisses pressed shakily against your lips, silence filling the room except for the quiet sound of your combined heavy breathing and your bed springs occasionally squealing when Joel shifted his weight.

"You good?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours with a deep breath. You nodded then winced when he withdrew his softening cock from between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at you, searching your face very seriously for a moment. You opened your mouth to ask but the words died in your throat. Instead, you let him study you. Your eyes landed on the little wrinkles developing next to his eyes, the cute pout he made when he was deep in thought, the way his hair stood like a halo after your fingers pulled and tugged, rearranging the product that was combed through.

He kept looking at you, something happening behind his eyes, something meaningful. But just when you thought you were on the cusp of something, he blinked and cleared his throat, pushing himself upright.

"Lemme go clean up real quick," he said, glancing out into the hallway.

"Okay," you said quietly, watching as he sauntered naked through your room and disappeared into the bathroom. You could hear the sink running, then a minute later, the toilet flushing, and you suddenly felt cold. You reached for your blankets and slid underneath, and right when your mind was about to get carried away with self-doubt and too many questions, the door flung open and he stepped out with a determined look.

"I almost married Sarah's mom."

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to your chest with wide eyes. He was standing in your doorway, still naked except the condom was gone. His fingers fidgeted nervously at his sides and the romantic side of you found it poetic that he was fully naked and about to reveal something so personal, but you couldn't focus much on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Joel blinked.

"I thought I loved her, but I think it was just 'cause she was havin' my baby," he began. "I was thirty, just startin' to make a name for myself, made a huge fuckin' mistake and, I dunno, felt like I had to do the right thing."

"Thirty," you repeated, and he nodded. "Didn't you say that was when you built The Parador?"

He nodded again and finally moved from his spot in the doorway to join you on the bed.

"I was naive. I met her at this networkin' event with a bunch of other guys in the hospitality industry. She was just at the bar, all alone, wasn't even part of the event or a worker or nothin'. Shoulda been my first clue, but I was young and stupid."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled the blankets over his waist and leaned up against your headboard.

"I didn't know it, but she was goin' fishin' that night."

You tilted your head to the side, confusion written all over your face.

"She was lookin' to sink her claws into someone with money. She knew everyone at that event was somebody, so she cast her line and reeled one in."

Slowly, you began to connect the dots.

"She... she was using you for your money?"

Joel swallowed and nodded, his eyes darting around your face nervously.

"Did - you said the pregnancy was a mistake-"

"I don't know if she planned it, but it sure as hell felt that way after I found everythin' out. She was expectin' me to propose, thought she'd be set for life if she had my kid. Heard her on the phone one night with a friend who was doin' the same thing to someone else. Same night I came home early to surprise her after we found out we were havin' a girl."

"Oh, my god," you whispered in disbelief.

"It was wrong, I know it, but I was so fuckin' hurt," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I kicked her out. I know it wasn't Sarah's fault and I tried, I really fuckin' tried, but every time I saw her-" he pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the sheets. "Just reminded me of everythin', and I couldn't handle it."

"So... you don't have a relationship with her? Or with Sarah?" you asked. He shook his head but he kept his eyes shamefully fixed on his hands.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Joel's concern with Glenn and his emphasis on family, Tammy's vague insinuation on the yacht, Joel's inability to trust you, his resistance to opening up. It was all because he was afraid of being used again.

The fact he had never been in love sounded more like he had never allowed himself to fall in love.

But he was trusting you now. Something that was clearly very difficult for him to do while he sat in fear of judgement.

You scooted forward on the bed and tucked yourself into his side. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, curling yourself around him, trying to make him feel safe. His heart fluttered anxiously under his skin, you could feel it, but he slowly picked up his own arms and coiled them around you protectively.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"What- what're you sorry for?"

"For everything you went through. I'm sorry she broke your heart. I'm sorry you suffered for so long with this burden. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me before, but I promise you, I'm not judging you."

"I know," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You took another deep breath before speaking again.

"And I'm not after you for your money. I can understand now why you -"

"Sweetheart, I know," he said, cutting you off.

You frowned and looked up at him. "You do?"

He grinned and nudged his nose gently against yours.

"Yeah. Probably the only goddamn sugar baby in the world who didn't want money, so... yeah. I know."

You giggled and pulled away from his grip so you could look him in the eye.

"I mean, it's kind of ironic... you seeking out a woman to pay to be with you? Why would you-"

"'Cause I woulda rather had all our cards on the table and know up front it was just a business deal," he explained. "Didn't need someone sneakin' 'round behind my back tryin' to take advantage of me. Rather know from jump."

You felt your chest tighten a little at that, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulled you over to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

"But you wanted everythin' else except my money," he murmured. You shifted your eyes to the left and began to play with a curl above his ear, suddenly growing shy under his scrutiny. But he kept going.

"Always had a feelin', but didn't wanna believe it. Couldn't believe it, I suppose," he added, watching your eyes carefully as you continued to focus on his hair. "You never cared 'bout doin' anythin' extravagant on the island. Wanted to spend time with me at the beach, wanted to get food from a stand at the corner with our goddamn faces painted," he chuckled. You grinned and felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Then you left those envelopes," he said, and your eyes finally found his again. He let a heavy moment pass between you as you stared down at him. "Never even opened 'em. Gave you that first one the first night we were there. And you didn't open it."

You shook your head and a slow smile stretched across his face.

"Then with the hell you gave me and the bank 'bout the payment after we got back," he groaned, tilting his face to the ceiling like he was in agony.

"Fifty thousand was too fucking much!" you practically shouted, but he just laughed and pulled you closer.

"You actually fuckin' like me," he said in wonder. "Why would someone like you want anythin' to do with someone like me?"

You threw your head back and laughed, immediately recognizing your own words being parroted back to you.

"Because," you replied once your laughter waned, "you're a good man, despite what you may think. You care and you're sweet and you make me feel safe. You make me feel good about myself. You pay attention to things that mean something to me. You - I -" you cut yourself off with a quick shake of your head. "Yeah... I actually fucking like you," you finished with a slow smile.

He grinned and cupped the back of your neck, but before pulling you down for a kiss, he whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. If it weren't for the incessant ache between your legs and the soreness of your throat, you would have wondered if it was all a dream. You reached for the other side of the bed and felt the sheets cool under your fingertips.

It was Saturday. You didn't think he would have worked that day, but then again, it was Joel, so maybe he did. But would he really leave without saying goodbye? After you were so raw and vulnerable with each other the night before?

That was when you heard it. Faint humming and music turned on low coming from your kitchen.

Oh, now this you had to see.

When you rolled out of bed, you almost reached for your pajamas, but then you spotted his shirt neatly draped over your desk chair and you couldn't resist. You picked it up and slid your arms through, rumpling the fabric underneath your chin and taking a deep breath. It still smelled just like him. A mixture of deodorant, soap, cologne and hair products. A unique scent that was quickly becoming a favorite of yours.

You stepped out of your bedroom and peered into your kitchen, a smile pulling at your lips when you saw him pouring coffee for you both, wearing only his boxers with the sweet sounds of 80s ballads filling the air. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, gaze slowly gliding over the strong, broad muscles of his back until he turned around and froze.

"Was gonna make you somethin' to eat and then I remembered... I don't know how to cook."

You burst out laughing and Joel grinned when he handed you your coffee.

"But you figured out the coffee machine," you said, taking a tentative sip and giving him an impressed look.

"That thing's a piece of shit, I'm buyin' you a new one," he scolded.

You dropped your jaw and frowned.

"No, you will not. It's not in its prime, sure, but it makes the best coffee."

Joel chuckled and wrapped the hand not holding his coffee around your ribs. Taking a step forward and dropping his chin had him towering over you seductively.

"Y'look real good in my clothes," he murmured, lips brushing against your forehead with a low hum.

"Couldn't help myself," you admitted softly, "smells just like you."

He pulled back a bit to give you half a smile. "You like smellin' like me?"

"Mhmm," you said under your breath, then nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and took a deep breath. "But now you smell like me."

Joel groaned and dipped his head lower, slotting his lips hungrily against yours. When his tongue slipped past your lips, you giggled and pulled away.

"I need some coffee first," you teased. He just smirked while his fingertips rubbed his bottom lip, like he were chasing the ghost of your kiss. His soft brown eyes were glimmering, so happy and content in your little living room slash kitchen. His cheeks were slightly pink and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile so much before.

While you sipped your coffee, you began to crack some eggs in a frying pan while simultaneously tossing some bread in the toaster. Meanwhile, Joel was nosing curiously around your apartment, inspecting little trinkets that he didn't have the chance to look at the night before.

"Snowglobe from Disney?" Joel asked, holding it up from across the room. You looked over your shoulder with a grin.

"My aunt and uncle are obsessed with Disney. They get me Disney themed shit every year for Christmas."

Joel hummed and placed it down gently on the windowsill before spotting a vase filled with sand and seashells. He smiled as he approached, too worried he would break it to pick it up when he asked, "When'd you steal sand?"

He heard you laugh and he turned back around.

"The day we were at the beach together. I had a ziploc for my sunscreen so, you know," you said with a shrug while you flipped the eggs. Joel gave the vase one more look, smiling to himself when he saw the new pink seashells scattered throughout.

"Where are you gonna hang the painting?" he asked when he saw it leaning up against the wall next to your television.

"I don't know yet. Maybe next to the door. Or maybe behind the couch," you answered, focusing on buttering the toast and turning off the gas before the eggs burned. You jumped when you suddenly felt his hands sliding around your waist.

"Supposed to go above the bed," he reminded you. Tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder, you grinned.

"You remember everything, don't you?"

"Sure do," he replied, giving your ass a playful smack before picking up both plates of food. "Where do you wanna eat?"

You both sunk into your old couch and balanced your plates on your knees, shoveling in forkfuls of food in between explaining the story behind every little thing that caught his eye.

Then he spotted your picture frames again. He leaned forward to put his empty plate on your coffee table and stood, his hulking, mostly-still-naked frame captivating you for a moment as he picked up a photo to study it.

"Your folks?" he asked, tilting the frame towards you. You squinted and nodded from the couch. "Any siblings?"

The question came out soft as he angled it back towards him.

"Nope. Just me. I've always wanted a sister but Celine was a pretty good substitute," you smiled as he picked up a photo of you and Celine on New Years Eve.

"'S'nice," he murmured thoughtfully, taking one last look at the photo before putting it back. He pretended to study a photo of you and your grandparents from your graduation when he added, "Probably best you got to pick. My brother's been a pain in the ass since I was old enough to ride a bike."

You perked up at the mention of his brother, folding your legs underneath you and setting your plate down next to his.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, still staring down at the picture. "Always usin' my shit and breakin' it. Buttin' in with me 'n my friends to do somethin' stupid. Got me in trouble more times than I can count with our Mama," he mused. He finally set the picture down and turned to look at you. "Then he got older. The fuck ups got more serious. Bailin' him outta jail every other weekend. Got a DUI one summer and had me haulin' his ass all over town."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you remained silent, just nodding your head and giving him your full attention, too afraid to spook him with any questions just yet.

"Then we grew up. I moved out here, six months later he follows, 'course," he said, sounded exasperated when he plopped down on the couch next to you. "Got a job at a hotel, 'fore you know it he's beggin' me for a job. Got 'em one workin' as a dishwasher in the restaurant inside the hotel but he fucked that up before I could blink an eye."

Before he even finished the story, you could sense where it was going.

"Finally, he finds his own way. Gets in with a construction company. And he did pretty good, too. I had my thing goin' on at the hotel. Learnin' from the manager 'n all that. By the time I was ready to renovate my first hotel, Tommy'd ended up owning his own company. It was small, but, hell... it was the best he ever got."

You chewed your lower lip anxiously, watching as his eyes slid over to your dusty television, staring at it blankly before he continued.

"So, I hired him. Hired his company to renovate part of the hotel. He even cut me a deal. Thought for once he'd finally pulled his head outta his ass and made somethin' of himself."

Joel fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought while his fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"Then what happened?" you whispered, worried if you had spoken any louder, it would have snapped him out of it and he would clam back up.

"Then... his company went under. He wasn't doin' shit by the book. Got caught payin' guys under the table and fuckin' up his taxes. And he had to start over."

You connected the dots even before he said, "He came to me lookin' for a loan. Lookin' to fix all his goddamn mistakes, like nothin' ever changed. And... I said no."

"And he never forgave you," you guessed. His eyes found yours and he nodded.

"Yeah. Never forgave me. Said I was turnin' my back on blood. Said he woulda done the same for me. But I just had fuckin' enough. I worked hard to get what I had. So, I refused and he had to move back to Texas. Last I heard he got a loan from our Pop and started a business down there."

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his story sink in with the only noise coming from horns blaring on the street below and your next door neighbor shouting at her husband to wake up for work.

"So... that's the brother story, huh?" you finally said, the corner of your mouth lifting when he met your eye and nodded. You shrugged and scooted closer to him on the couch. "That's not so bad. I understand why you did what you did."

"Had the whole situation goin' on with Sarah's mom at the time, too, but 'course he had no idea. Felt like he never asked me much 'bout my life unless he needed somethin'," he said solemnly.

You snuggled in close and lifted his arm to drape over your shoulders.

"It's never too late, you know," you told him softly. His thumb began to trace invisible circles over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"To make peace. With both of them," you replied. "If you wanted to, anyway. And if you ask me, it sounds like you want to."

"Oh, yeah? And how d'you know that?" Joel teased, pinching your arm and making you giggle.

"Because," you said, tilting your chin to look at him. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't care so much. You wouldn't have kept all this a secret and you wouldn't think you're a bad person. But what do I know?" you said with a sigh before resting your head against his chest. "I'm just the sugar baby."

Joel's loud laugh echoed throughout your tiny apartment. You grinned when he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap to face him, dark eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

"You ain't a sugar baby, and you know it."

"Then what am I?"

He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips down to meet his in a gentle kiss.

"You're the woman I'm fallin' in love with," he whispered, voice trembling a little. You locked eyes, the surprise and excitement coursing through your veins causing you to smile so wide that it hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile of his own. "Real goddamn inconvenient," he added, making you giggle and press another kiss against his mouth.

"Told you," you said breathlessly. "But we can take things slow, seeing as you're a newbie and all." Joel scoffed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

The dam had finally broke. All the secrets and lies were revealed. For better or worse, you both put your hearts in each others hands and trusted that the other would keep it safe.

As if reading your mind, Joel's hand dropped to your chest. He flattened his palm over your rapidly beating heart while you played with the curls on the nape of his neck.

"This is real," he stated softly, voice a little thicker than before. He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, and you smiled.

"Yeah, it's real."

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic

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pastryfication · 5 months ago

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love at first crash | ollie bearman

part of the love at first . . . series

pairing: oliver bearman x reader note: idk if they trust ollie with a ferrari but just run with it.

the impact is sudden, a violent jolt that sends your car careening off course, your heart leaping into your throat as you struggle to regain control. the world spins around you, a blur of colors and sounds, until your car finally screeches to a stop, the silence that follows almost deafening.

for a moment, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel with trembling hands, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. you force yourself to unbuckle the seatbelt, pushing open the door with shaky fingers, and step out onto the pavement. your legs feel weak beneath you, barely able to hold you up as you survey the damage.

your car is a mess, the front end crumpled beyond recognition, but it’s not the wreckage that sends your heart into a fresh wave of panic—it’s the sight of the other car. a sleek, red, and undoubtedly expensive ferrari. your stomach twists into knots as you realize just what you’ve done, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes trace the scratches marring the once pristine paint.

“oh no, oh no, oh no,” you mutter under your breath, your hands flying to your face as the reality of the situation sinks in. “i hit a ferrari. i actually hit a ferrari.”

before you can spiral any further, the door of the other car swings open, and out steps the driver—a young man, tall and lean, with dark, tousled hair that falls into his eyes. he quickly scans the scene, his eyes finally landing on you. for a brief moment, you’re caught in his stare, the world narrowing to just the two of you, and despite everything, you can’t help but feel a strange, magnetic pull towards him.

but then reality crashes back down, and all you can think about is the fact that you’ve just crashed into his ferrari, and your car is totaled, and there’s no way you can afford to fix this.

“are- are you okay?” he asks, his voice fighting hard to stay steady despite the obvious concern in his eyes. he moves toward you, but you’re too wrapped up in your own panic to register anything beyond the guilt gnawing at your insides.

“your car,” you stammer, your voice high and shaky as you look back at the ferrari. “i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to- i don’t know how this happened. i just-”

“hey, it’s okay,” he interrupts gently, his voice already seeming to be calming down, the soft tone feeling almost reassuring as he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “i mean, it’s just a car. i’m alright. what matters is that you’re okay. are you hurt?”

his words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dumbfounded. “just a car?” you repeat, incredulous. “but it’s a ferrari! it’s not just a car- and- and my car-” you glance back at the wreckage, the panic swelling up again. “i completely smashed my car. i’m so sorry. i don’t know how i’m going to-”

“hey, breathe,” he says, and this time, he gently places a hand on your arm, the touch warm and grounding. you don’t know how he manages to stay so calm. a man around 20 driving a ferrari and being completely calm about ruining it. not something you’d ever think possible. “we’ll figure this out. cars can be fixed or replaced—and i have an insurance.”

you nod, trying to take in a deep breath like he says, but to your horror, it catches in your chest, and before you know it, tears are welling up in your eyes. it’s all too much—the crash, the shock, the overwhelming guilt of damaging something so expensive. you’re on the verge of breaking down right there on the side of the road.

“hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he steps even closer, forcing himself to stay calm as his hand comes to still, resting gently on your arm. “you’re in shock. i think that’s normal. just- just take a deep breath.”

his presence is oddly calming, despite the slight waver in his voice, and you focus on the way he speaks, trying to match your breathing to his. after a few moments, the trembling starts to ease, and you manage to blink away the tears, finally looking up at him through blurry eyes.

“i’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice still shaky but a little steadier now. “i can’t believe i hit your car.”

he smiles, soft and reassuring, and it’s like the weight on your chest lifts just a little. “it’s really okay,” he says, his eyes shining with kindness, understanding, and maybe even something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat despite the situation. “i promise, i’m not worried about the car. i’ll get it fixed. i’m just glad we’re both okay.”

you look at him, really look at him, and there’s something almost surreal about this moment—standing here, on the side of the road, next to a wrecked ferrari, being comforted by a stranger who should be furious, but isn’t. instead, there’s a connection, something electric in the air between you.

“i’m ollie,” he says, offering his name like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if you’re not standing in the aftermath of a car crash.

you give him your name, your voice still shaky but stronger now, and he repeats it softly. “nice to meet you,” he says, and the words feel almost absurd given the circumstances, but also strangely fitting.

you exchange insurance details, though your hands are still trembling slightly as you write. the whole time, ollie stays close, his presence comforting in a way that feels almost too natural, too easy, as if you’ve known each other far longer than these few minutes. he talks to you, his voice a calming undercurrent to the chaos around you, distracting you from the panic still simmering beneath the surface.

when the tow trucks finally arrive, you both linger, neither of you in a rush to leave. there’s an unspoken connection, something that feels too important to let go of just yet. ollie seems to sense it too, hesitating before he speaks again.

“you know, we could always grab a coffee sometime,” he suggests, almost as if he’s testing the waters. “maybe talk about something other than cars?”

“i’d like that,” you say, your heart lighter now, the earlier panic fading into something else entirely.

he smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in things like fate, like maybe some things are just meant to be. “great,” he says, pulling out his phone to exchange numbers. “i’ll call you.”

you nod, watching him closely as he taps away at you phone. his hair falls softly in front his eyes and a goofy grin is spread across his face.

you just crashed your cars, experiencing something possibly traumatising together, but he’s smiling goofily, and you can’t help but smile too. because who would have thought that your day would go like this?

guess you could call it love at first crash.

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imtryingbuck · 5 months ago

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Neighbours.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s moved next door to you and your children, your children wants to play matchmaker.

Word count: 7,322

Warnings: fluff. angst (only a tiny bit though) children being adorable. reader nearly takes her finger off/blood. mention of a dead beat dad. Bucky being the cutest. Alpine being the cutest. swearing. mention of health insurance problems? I’m British so if I’ve gotten it wrong just…leave me alone. small mention of financial issues/being in debt.

Masterlist

Opening the door to the apartment you shut it again, opening slowly before repeating the action a few more times, sighing in defeat that nothing had changed you took in the sight of the once cleaned apartment that now looked like a bomb had hit it.

Toys laid out on the floor, your daughters toy prams laying on their sides with the baby dolls hanging out of them, legos scattered around, broken crayons laid amongst the chaos.

“Kids?” You called out as you removed your coat.

“Oh…hi Y/n the kids are next door” Poppy your kid’s babysitter says as she pops her head around the corner.

“With Ms Hopewell?”

“Um no the new guy”.

Your heart stopped. The apartment next door had been empty since you and the kids moved in to your apartment two years ago, hearing that there was now a tenant living there didn’t bother you what bothered you was that it was a man who was alone with your children whilst the babysitter was-

“What was that?”

“They, um their next door” Poppy replies quickly.

“No I got that bit but what I want to know is who just coughed?”

“I-it’s my boyfriend-“

Oh your day just kept getting better and better.

“Get out. Your sacked”

“B-but Y-“

“No. Tell him to put his shirt on and I want you both to leave my home. Now”

The regret of not listening to Marina the mum of your daughters friend who had warned you not to hire the sixteen year old babysitter was hitting full force but at the time you was desperate and in need of a babysitter so you could work. Now you felt foolish that you gave her the benefit of the doubt, just for her to think it was acceptable to bring her boyfriend who you did not know into your home and to allow your children to be next door with a complete stranger.

Not listening to Poppy’s excuses you told her one more time to leave as you went next door where you could now hear your children’s cheerful voices.

The front door to the apartment was open, calling out for your kids where you heard them running towards you.

“Momma”

“What the hell do you think you two are doing? How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers.” You scolded despite seeing them okay and well.

“Mr Bucky isn’t a stranger momma” Cora your daughter says sheepishly.

“Mama” Jasper your son - the youngest out of the two - laughs as he pulls on your shirt.

Before you could reply to either child you hear soft footsteps coming towards you.

“I’m sorry Ma’am-“

“You can’t just let strange kids into your home-“

You cut yourself off when you look up. Not expecting a six foot, built like a brick wall yet looked soft oddly enough man. His bright blue eyes shined through the dimmed hallway, brown hair long enough to be pulled up in a bun that sat low on the back of his head, with a few strands of wavy hair framing his handsome face.

“Momma Mr Bucky has a black arm and it’s cold!” Cora giggled pointing at her left arm.

“Cora!” You scolded, apology on the tip of your tongue before this Mr Bucky laughed.

“It’s true, I do have a black arm” And that’s when you notice it.

“Momma guess how he lost it? Guess, momma guess” Cora jumped around on the spot causing Jasper to do the same.

“I-umm I’m not sure sweetie”

“He didn’t eat his veggies and his arm fell off!” She laughed “he told me and Jaspy that we have to eat all our veggies so it don’t happen to us” her eyes widened comically.

Looking up at the man who you assumed the worst of as he stood there with his arms crossed and a huge grin on his lips making his eyes crinkle.

“It’s true ma’am”

“Mama kitty” Jasper tugs on your shirt again, taking your eyes away from the man to your son who was pointing at a ball of white fluff as it came trotting over “name kitty mama”

“Her names Alpine-“ Cora tries to correct.

“No name kitty” Jasper pouts causing you and the man to laugh.

“You’re very right, her names kitty” he smiles softly. “By the way I’m James, well everyone calls me Bucky” He holds his right hand out for you to shake.

You tried to ignore the way his hand was warm, calloused yet soft, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n”.

“It’s nice to meet you. And listen I’m really sorry that I had your kids in here, um they were outside in the hallway-“

“Excuse me?”

“T-they were outside” he points behind you “I had just came back from the store when I saw them, um Cora said that Poppy had a boy inside and they were told to play in the hallway” He winces as he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s true momma. They were kissing” you grimaced and the anger you felt for your now former babysitter increased.

“Cora said you was at work and at the time I didn’t see the harm in letting them in to my apartment b-but now I see I did the wro-“

“No no no, I-thank you.” You cut him off, feeling slightly ashamed for overreacting.

“It’s okay, they’re great kids.”

“Thank you, I best get them back so I can feed them. I’m sorry if they caused any problems for you” you smiled, finally stand whilst picking Jasper up and placing him on your hip.

“They didn’t cause any problems, don’t worry. Bye Mr Jasper bye Miss Cora”

“Bye bye Mr Bucky and Miss Alpine” Cora waves already leaving.

Jasper just waves, his thumb sliding into his mouth.

“Bye Bucky”

“Bye, oh um Y/n… I would wash the bedding, the bedroom closest to this wall if I was you” He says grimacing as he knocks on the wall to his left.

Your bedroom.

“Great. Just great, thanks for the tip”. Giving him a tight lip smile you give him an awkward wave and walk back into your home.

“I-I’m sorry Y/n please just give me another chance” Poppy begs.

“Absolutely not. Now I want you to leave”

“But I need this job Y/n please”

“You told my children, the same children I pay you to look after, to go and play in the hallway so you could have sex in my bed! Oh don’t look so shocked, I found the used condom on my floor - thanks for that. Now don’t come back”

“Wi-will you give me a referen-“ You slammed the door in her face.

The audacity of this girl.

“Mama kitty” Jasper catches your attention and sure enough there’s Alpine walking around in a circle around your two year old.

“How did she get in here?” All you got in response was Jasper sticking his tongue out out you. “Let’s get her back home yeah?”

Now here came the tricky part, did you pick her up? Or just open the door and pray to a higher power that she didn’t run off?

You really hoped that she wouldn’t run off as the thought of chasing after a cat exhausted you but picking up the cat wasn’t your fan favourite either, from thirteen years old you’ve had a fear of touching cats after the neighbours tabby dug his claws into your skin and clung on for dear life.

“Okay bubba I need you not to move, I’ll be right back okay” great parenting leaving a two year old home alone, you scold yourself. Running out of the door and rapidly knocking on Bucky’s.

“Hey, Y/n are you okay?”

“Alpines in my apartment and I’m scared to touch cats so… come get her”

“Shit. I’m sorry I don’t know how I missed her getting out-wait did you just say you’re scared to touch them?”

Rolling your eyes as he chuckles “don’t laugh it’s a real phobia”

That has him practically crying. “So you’re afraid of cats?”

“No, I just don’t like touching them unless they’re asleep-stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry doll- hi Mr Jasper, come on missy you’re scaring our neighbour” he laughs as he bends down to pick up the cotton ball of fluff.

“I’m not scared of her!”

“Whatever you say doll, whatever you say”

“It’s-“

“A real phobia I know” winking at you “where’s Miss Cora?”

“At her friends for a sleepover so it’s just me and little man tonight” even though your daughter is two blocks away, you couldn’t help but miss her and mainly worry despite knowing she’s safe.

“That sounds like fun, I’ll see you”

And just as he’s about to cross over the threshold Jasper interrupts him. “Kitty stay”

“No baby kitty has to go home now”

“No kitty stay mama”

“Not tonight baby”

Here comes the waterworks in 3…2…1…

Jasper burst into a fit of tears, throwing himself backwards kicking his little arms and legs out.

“Kitty stay” he stutters, it breaks your heart hearing him cry like that.

“Ma-maybe if it’s okay with you Alpine can stay for a bit? I don’t mind honestly and she’s great with kids” Bucky offers and at his words Jaspers tears start to cease.

“Yeah umm yeah that’s okay with me” you say smiling lightly at Bucky.

“Behave missy” he tells the cat who’s trying to jump out of his arms, and once she’s free she runs over to Jasper rubbing herself all over him that he starts giggle at her fur tickling him.

“Once he’s asleep just knock on the wall and I’ll come and get her-“

“Stay” you blurt out instantly feeling the heat warm your cheeks “th-that’s if you don’t have anything better to-“

“I would love to” he smiles.

And so Bucky and Alpine join you and Jasper for dinner and some cartoons.

You was sitting next to Bucky on the couch when he taps your shoulder and nods his head in the direction of Jasper and Alpine, you couldn’t help but take your phone out and taking a picture of the two cuddled up together, fast asleep.

Months had passed before you had even realised. Bucky and Alpine spent most of their days now at your apartment, which you couldn’t complain as you now had another adult to talk to.

You had just left to go and get something from the store leaving Bucky alone with the kids. Jasper was playing with his toys with Alpine whilst Bucky and Cora was sat on the couch together.

Everything was good until.

“Momma doesn’t have a boyfriend” Cora told Bucky causing him to choke on his drink.

“Oh…”

“Do you want to be momma’s boyfriend?”

“I erm I’m not sure why?”

“Momma will make you happy, she makes me and Jaspy happy and she makes us dino nuggies for dinner and she reads us bedtime stories and makes sure there’s no monsters under the bed”

“Really?”

“Yep she would do that for you too if you was her boyfriend” the six year old put her hand on Bucky’s left arm as she told him.

“I’m not sure Cora…”

“Why not? Do you not like my momma?”

“I do sweetheart but it’s just a little bit more complicated than that”

“Momma said she likes you, I asked her. You can make her happy and she’ll make you happy. I don’t want momma to cry anymore”

“What do you mean?”

“She cries at night when she’s in bed but she doesn’t know that I know. If you be her boyfriend she won’t cry anymore”

Bucky knows Y/n cries at night, due to his enhanced hearing he can hear her. It pains him to hear her sobs until she’s eventually cried herself to sleep.

The knowledge that Cora knows it happens too makes his heart hurt. She’s six years old and all she wants is her momma to be happy even going as far to ask him - the ex brainwashed assassin who’s over a hundred years old - for help.

And the way she’s looking at him doesn’t help.

“So… will you think about it?” Cora asks when she doesn’t receive a response.

“Yeah I’ll think about it”

Five minutes go by.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Not yet”

“Okay”

Another five minutes go by.

“Now?”

“Still thinking Cora”

Jumping up from the couch when he hears the door come open he jogs over to help you with the shopping.

“Hey, thanks you’re a lifesaver” sighing in relief as the bags are released from your arms.

“No problem”

“Did they behave?”

“Yeah, well apart from Miss Cora” he winks at Cora as she comes over.

“No momma it was Mr Bucky that was naughty”

“Why what did he do?”

“He ate all the cookies and didn’t let me have one” she pouts.

You had to stifle the laugh from coming out as Bucky’s eyes widen and jaw dropped open, gasping dramatically at the claims.

“Y/n it was the other way round! I swear”

“No it wasn’t momma I have witnesses” holding her one finger up to you she runs back into the living room to get the witnesses. Bucky stands there with his arms crossed and lightly tapping his foot.

“They saw it happen” laying her dolls down on the counter she looks at you then at Bucky with a smug smile.

“Y/n whatever they say it’s a lie!”

That time you couldn’t hold the laughter in any more.

“You two…” shaking your head.

Seeing a grown man arguing with a six year old and her toys about them being liars makes you laugh even more.

Later that evening Cora says goodnight to Bucky and Alpine, you hear her ask him “have you thought about it now?” Causing your eyebrows to furrow.

Walking him to the door you ask “what was Cory talking about before she went to bed?”

“Oh nothing doll, see you tomorrow”.

You was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the knock at the door had Cora running straight towards it.

“Hi Mr Bucky hi Alpine”

“Hello Miss Cora”

“I’m a princess today”

“I see, hi Princess Cora” he chuckled.

“Hello, would you like to come into my castle?”

“Yes please, thank you”

Their footsteps got closer towards you, turning round you saw Alpine run past jumping straight on to the couch where Jasper was sitting.

“Momma Mr Bucky’s here” she told you before going back to the living room.

“Hi Bucky”

“Hey, so Cora’s a princess today then?”

“Yep. That’s her fourth dress change since she came home from school”

Chuckling as he sits down on the stool he watches you move around the small kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh no I’m fine, how was work?” You asked.

“It was fine just the usual, Sam being a pain in my backside”

“Fair enough” you laughed “hey um Bucky I need to ask a huge favour, you can say no okay so don’t fee-“

“Doll ask me”

“Remember you can say no, okay? But I have to work tomorrow as someone’s off ill and it’s Saturday so I was wondering if it’s no issue for you to look after the kids for me?”

He doesn’t even think about his answer as he answers “of course, just tell me when I should come over”

“Really? Oh Bucky you’re a lifesaver, I’ll have to pay you next week if that’s okay?”

“No absolutely not Y/n, I’m not going to take money off you”

“But I can’t ask you to look after them for free”

“Your not, I’m not taking money off you doll and that’s final”

He gets up off the stool and moves into the living room, you hear him tell the kids that they’ll be spending the day with him and the kids cheering.

Ever since you sacked Poppy you’ve been struggling, luckily your boss has been understanding that you need to work certain hours however the hours you now work is way less then what you use to, tomorrow will be the day you work longer that five hours.

Ms Hopewell from next door normally looks after Jasper but since it was the weekend she didn’t need to, plus her daughter was taking her out for the day-

“Shit-fuck goddamnit!” So lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise how close the knife was to your finger that was until you felt the sharp pain and warm sensation of blood trickling down your hand.

“Shi-shoot Y/n are you okay?” Bucky comes running over stopping when he see the blood.

“I’m fine-is it suppose to hurt this much? It really hurts”

“Doll we need to get you to the hospital”

“No, no it’s fine I’ll put a plaster on it-can you hand me the first aid kit from the cabinet”

“Y/n you need stitches-“ He attempts

“I can’t. I don’t have insurance anymore” you mutter.

“What?”

“The kids have but I had to give mine up so I could have insurance for Jasper. I can’t afford to pay the hospital bill Bucky”

You’ve never been ashamed of the fact that you couldn’t afford treatment for yourself it was just one of those things, your kids or you - it was an easy choice. There’s only ever been one time that you slightly regretted that decision and that’s when you broke your ankle just before you moved into the apartment, it had healed fully after nearly a year of being broken and the only time it affects you is in the winter or when you stood up to fast.

You knew he was right about needing to get stitches as you was pretty sure you could see the bone - you couldn’t - but you couldn’t help the shame that crept into your veins admitting it to Bucky that you couldn’t afford to pay for said stitches. The thought of getting another letter with big bold red letters telling you that you was in debt made your heart pang with fear.

Despite the pain in your finger and the cramp that was starting to seep into your hand you was still not going to go to the hospital.

“I’ll pay for it doll. Come on let’s get it sor-“

“No absolutely not. I’m not your charity case Bucky, just pass the first aid kit over and I’ll put a plaster on” You snapped. Instantly regretting it when you see Bucky’s eyes go sad.

“I’m not saying you are Y/n but a plaster isn’t going to do anything doll, I honestly don’t mind paying please just… just let me help you out”

“I can’t Bucky okay, I just can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Okay. Okay how about I take you to my work place we have a doct-“

“What part of I can’t afford it don’t you understand?”

“She’ll do it for free! If you could stop interrupting me for one second. Dr Cho will do it and she won’t charge I promise.”

Nibbling on your lip as blood splashed down the counter you started to shake your head.

“I can ring her now and ask her to come here if you want?”

“I-will she?”

“Of course give me a minute” he steps away to ring the doctor. “She’s on her way” he comes closer and helps you wrap your hand in the tea towel.

“Bucky, I’m really sorry for snapping I-“

“Y/n it’s fine okay. Cho’s on her way she’s nice and she’ll fix your finger”

“Momma what happened?” Cora goes pale at the sight of blood.

“Momma had a bit of an accident Princess Cora, can you go back to Mr Jasper and Alpine for me?” Bucky says before you had the chance.

“Okay but is momma okay?”

“Yes sweetheart she is, don’t worry”

Cora looks at you waiting for confirmation and when she gets a smile and a nod she runs back to her brother and Alpine.

“Thank you Buck-shit it’s really stinging”

“I know, she should be her-“ the knock at the door cuts him off, just before he walks off he kisses you on your forehead.

Hearing him talk to the doctor your fingers lightly grazed the part where he had kissed, a small shy smile made its way on your lips.

“Cho this is Y/n, Y/n this is Cho”

“Hi it’s a pleasure to meet you, James said that you’ve injured your finger?”

“Hi, and yeah I-I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and sliced myself” awkwardly lifting your hand up that now had dry blood on your arm.

“Hi Miss who are you?” Cora comes over with her hand on her hip.

“Hello I’m Helen”

“Hello Helen I’m Princess Cora, that’s momma, Mr Bucky and over there is Jasper and Alpine”

Helen curtsy’s at Cora making the six year old giggle “It’s nice to meet your family Princess Cora”

The implication that Bucky was apart of your family didn’t slip your notice and by the look of Bucky’s face it didn’t him either, neither one of you said anything to correct her though.

Cora walks off once again and Helen turns her attention back to you, unwrapping the towel she turned to Bucky telling him what she needed out of her medical bag.

With him distracted you looked at Helen “I-I can’t pay you so it’s okay just to put a plaster on it, it’ll be fine in a few days”

“Don’t be silly I’m not charging you” she says softly. “Thank you James, Y/n this might hurt but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can”

It was weird because it hurt until Bucky held your other hand. Strange.

“All done, if it’s easier for you I’ll come back here in a few weeks to remove the stitches”

You thank her once again as Bucky walks her to the door.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m okay. Bucky I really am so-“

His lips cut you off. Said lips being attached to yours.

“Stop apologising, it’s my turn now - Y/n I’m really sorry for that” he says once he’s pulled away.

“Did you not like it? Was it bad?” You panic, it was your first kiss in over two years to you it was magical but not to him as he apologising.

“God no doll, to both questions. It’s just I should have asked first-why are you smiling like that?”

“C-can I have another one?”

Bucky chuckles just as his lips gently touch yours again.

A week after nearly chopping your finger off and having not one, not two but three kisses with Bucky, he knocked on the door and let himself in like you told him to do.

“Hi Buck”

“Hey doll, where’s my two favourite people in the world at?” Pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Jaspers down for a nap and Cora’s in her room, Buck she’s upset”

“Why? Who’s hurt her?”

“One of the girls in her class is having a sleepover and invited all the other girls in the class, apart from Cory”

Your heart breaking again remembering how sad she looked coming out of school, normally she was all smiles and talking a thousand miles per hour, filling you in on what she had done that day but not today. It wasn’t until you got home where she finally broke down in tears.

“When?”

“Tonight, apparently all the other girls knew and was told not to tell Cora”

“Is her friend going?”

“Abbie? No she’s in a different class so she’s hasn’t been invited either”

“Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be back”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise doll” he winks before kissing you and leaving.

And sure enough twenty minutes later he was walking back through the door. This time he had two bags in his hands.

“Bucky?”

“Me, you and the kids are having our own sleep over and it’s going to be way better than that snobby-“

“She’s six Bucky”

“And? She didn’t invite the best girl to her sleep over so there for… she’s snobby”

Shaking your head you couldn’t help but smile as he pulled different snacks and drinks out of the bag onto the coffee table.

“So I’m thinking that we’ll make a pillow fort, watch movies and eat snacks and I’ll order us a pizza from Cora’s favourite place?”

Every fibre in your being was screaming at you just say those three words but you couldn’t, not yet at least. You and Bucky wasn’t even dating all you did was share a few kisses, it’ll be weird to blurt out them words.

“Mr Bucky you’re here” Cora says coming out of her bedroom.

“I’m here sweetheart, did your momma not tell you what was happening tonight?”

“No, what’s happening?”

“Us four are having a sleepover”

“Really?” She squeals and runs into Bucky who lifts her up. “Thank you thank you! This is the best day ever!”

You hear Jasper call out for you from his room so you leave Bucky and Cora alone. Picking Jasper up from his bed and walk in to the living room where the two year old says something that stops not only you in your tracks but Bucky and Cora.

“Dada”

His little arms reaching out to the only man in the room. Bucky’s eyes bounce from you then to Jasper, then to you. You can see it in his eyes that he’s begging you to tell him what to do but you can’t, you’re completely frozen.

“Bucky” he says slowly as to make Jasper understand but all he receives is-

“Dada” Jasper giggles and repeats the word a few more times.

Bucky finally puts Cora down and slowly makes his way over to you two and when he’s just in reach Jaspers jumped out of your arms and into Bucky’s. As soon as Bucky has hold of him you walk out of the room going straight to your bedroom. Shutting the door you burst out crying.

“Doll? I’m coming in okay?” It had been close to ten minutes since you had walked out. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry”

“Why are you sorry for?” Wiping your tears he pulls you into his chest.

“I tried correcting him but he just wouldn’t stop, even Cora told him not to”

“Did she say anything to you? About their father I mean.”

“No she just looked really upset.”

“He erm, he-“

“Y/n you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay”

“No no I want to, I trust you. He left, well he kicked me and Cora out when I was four months pregnant. Everything was fine that morning when we woke up, he went to work I stayed at home and when I was putting his dinner out he came home with an envelope in his hands and threw it on the table, he walked into Cora’s bedroom walked out with a huge bag a few minutes later then did the same with our room” wiping the fresh tears that had fallen, you hadn’t spoken about that day to anyone - not even your family.

“He told me to open the letter so I did an-and inside was paper, right. When I read it, it said that he had given up his rights to Cora and the unborn baby. I asked him why he was doing this and he told me I ruined his life when Cora was born and I was doing it again with the new baby, said he wanted to live his life without being tied down. Kicked me and a crying three year old out, at first I thought he had been cheating on me but it turns out he wasn’t, there was no one on the side he just wanted to live his life”

Bucky was practically shaking, you could feel the anger coming from him.

“I found out a few months later that all of our friends knew what he was doing, promised him that they would keep his secret and that he started the process when I was a few weeks along. Everyday he told me and Cory he loved us, spoke to the bump saying he couldn’t wait to meet them all while he and everyone around us knew what he was doing.”

“Y/n… doll I’m so sorry”

“Why it’s not your fault, you know Cory never even mentioned him after it happened not once, I thought she would of because she was such a daddy’s girl three nearly four years old and she knew, she knew he didn’t want her anymore so she never asked when she was going to see him or called out for him during the night. If he had just told me he didn’t want me anymore that I would have been okay with bu-but to not want anything to do with his kids? It didn’t make sense to me”

“Has he even been in contact with you since?”

“No. I got a phone call once from his friend who told me that he was really struggling to sell the house and somehow it was my fault”

“How was it your fault?”

“God knows, he started rambling off then started calling me names when he heard Ms Hopewell’s son talking in the background, said I had moved on pretty quick when I hadn’t. He was there helping me fix up my bed after his mum found out I was sleeping on the floor”

“Doll-“

“Don’t apologise again please Bucky, I got through it I’m fine now. I think hearing Jasper call you dada made unwanted emotions come up you know? You’ve obviously realised that he doesn’t speak much even at two there’s only a few words he can say, I don’t know where I went wrong with that but I’ve tried, I’ve tried teaching him other words but he just don’t.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n you are an incredible mum, those two kids out there are the most sweetest loving people. Jasper will start talking soon, I just know it”

You tried, you really did.

“I love you”

Oh the silence was killing you.

“I love you too” he smiled softly.

He leant in for a kiss when-

“Is Bucky our new daddy?”

“Not yet sweetheart” not yet played in your mind over and over even as he stands up winking at you and taking Coras hand in his and walks back to the living room.

That night after all the excitement needed to come to an end all four of you climbed into your bed. Cora tucked snuggly in your arms, Jasper in Bucky’s, Bucky’s left arm over your waist pulling all three of you closer to him. Alpine slept curled up in a ball at the bottom.

For the first time in just over two years you went to sleep dried faced and peacefully.

And unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in a very very long time that Bucky only had happy dreams as he slept.

It had been a month since the sleepover and confession, within that month Bucky had practically moved in. Alpine spent all her time with Cora and Jasper, sleeping with Jasper at night.

Bucky had to go on a work trip, he’d been gone for just over two weeks now and to be truthful you was missing him even if you did speak to him everyday, him ringing every night to say goodnight to the kids and speaking to you for a few minutes before he had to leave.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you couldn’t stop worrying when Bucky hadn’t called you the night before or that day. As you was cleaning the apartment the knock at the door made you jump. Cora went to jump up and answer it but since you knew it wasn’t Bucky you told her to stop receiving a frown in response.

Answering the door you froze.

“Hi, are you Y/n?” Nodding your head at the man he smiled. “Hi I’m-“

“Momma it’s Captain America!” Cora squealed from behind you.

Turning his attention from you to Cora he smiled softly “hello you must be Miss Cora, Bucky’s told me all about you”

“You know Mr Bucky? Momma he knows Bucky”

“I-I know sweetie” your eyes still trained on the blonde “would you like to come in?”

“Thank you”

Pulling Cora closer to you, you watched as Steve walked into your home. You couldn’t put your finger on it but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you had in your stomach. Steve walked into the living room where Jasper and Alpine was.

“Cora take Jasper and Alpine into your room please”

“Why momma?”

“Just do as I say”

Cora listened and picked up her younger brother who had Alpine in his arms and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her you let out a deep breath.

“Hi, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, is Bucky alright?”

“Yeah he’s fine, he asked me to come over and pick you guys up. It’s better if he explains”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at the tower, I need you to pack some clothes and come with me”

“For how long?”

“Enough for a few days”

“What’s Bucky’s favourite book?”

“Huh?”

“What’s his favourite book?” You asked again with your arms crossed.

“The Hobbit, why?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back”

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Just to see if it was really you” Steve’s laugh made you smile as you walked into Cora’s room.

Once packed Steve stood there holding the bags in one hand and in the other Cora’s hand as they both stood watching with amused smiles as you struggled to get Alpine into the cat carrier that Bucky had brought over a few weeks earlier when you both took her to the vets.

After almost ten minutes of struggling all it took was Jasper to pick her up and place her inside.

Never in your life have you been more thankful for your two year old.

“Bucky gave me his car keys” giving Steve a questionable look, he smiled “he said that he brought car seats for the kids and since we don’t have any laying around the tower it would be better if I took his car”

You didn’t know that he had brought car seats…

“O-oh”

You watched in awe as Steve strapped Cora into her seat that was princess themed easily, when he caught you staring at him “Bucky and I practiced with Morgan, Pepper her mum helped us figure it out. Got to say we’re naturals now” he laughed.

“I honestly didn’t know he was doing this”

“He really likes you and these kids, don’t tell him I told you this but he’s been reading books about kid’s development and stuff.”

“No he hasn’t…” you say as you put your seatbelt on.

“He has. That’s how I found out about you guys”

“I-I’m-wow. I didn’t know”

Steve chuckles at your shocked expression, “like I said he really likes you”

The rest of the drive was quiet between you and Steve, Cora asking the blonde a million of questions about everything and anything and him answering all of them with as much enthusiasm as she gave.

You didn’t have very much time to stare in fascination at the huge tower as Steve pulled into the underground garage, the squeals from both Cora and Jasper had your attention going to where they were shouting, Bucky stood there with his hands deep in his pockets and a large smile on his face as the car pulled up to a stop, going straight to the back door where Jasper was sat.

“Hey little man”

“Dada!”

“I’m here buddy, come on let’s get you out of this seat, yeah”.

Steve had already gotten out and making his way to help Cora out of her seat.

“Bucky it’s Captain America and he’s my friend” she said making both men smile.

“Is he now? Am I still your friend?”

“Of course Bucky! Your my best friend”

You had removed yourself from the car and made your way to get the bags out of the boot when Steve’s voice stopped you.

“I’ll get them don’t worry”

“You’ve done enough-“

“No honestly it’s fine”

"Come on doll, he'll be fine plus everyone's dying to meet you” Bucky says as he places Jasper further onto his hip.

"Are you sure Steve?"

"I'm sure, don't worry"

Reluctantly leaving Steve to grab the bags you take Bucky's free hand and hold onto Cora's, all four of you make your way into the large building.

"Doll, after I introduce you to the team you and I need to talk” Bucky whispered in your ear making you nervous slightly.

“Ah here’s the Manchurian Candidate’s little family, welcome I’m-“

“Iron man!” Cora cut him off.

“You know who I am then?”

“Yes! You fly in the air and it’s so cool!” She says excitedly.

“I fly too” Sam Wilson laughs - Cora’s eyes go wide at seeing him.

“T-the Falcon! Momma look it’s the Falcon a-and Black Widow an-and Scarlet Witch! A-a-and momma it’s Thor!” She spoke so fast she started to stutter, her entire body shaking with excitement making everyone chuckle.

You all heard hurried footsteps and a voice speaking with a hint of panic come closer. “Are they here? I’m sorry I’m late”

The loud gasp had everyone’s eyes snapping down to Cora - including yours and Bucky’s. “I-it’s Bruce! M-momma he-it-Bruce-Hulk” she lets go of your hand and runs up to a very confused looking Bruce “I’m-your-your hulk! You’re my favourite! I have so so so so so many toys of you don’t I momma? I do Bruce!” Once again everyone chuckles at her, not that she pays any attention to them, too busy looking up at the man who she’s pretended to be when she’s playing.

“Hi, you must be Cora?” Bruce says with a soft hue coating his cheeks.

Her eyes widen comically, turning to you slowly her chest rising and falling fast. “B-Bruce knows my name mo-momma”

“I know beautiful, just breathe okay”

“Can I hug you please?” She asks politely and nearly squeals when he nods and crouches down to her level. “This is the best day ever!” She declares whilst keeping her arms around Bruce’s neck.

Whilst the team was distracting the kids Bucky took your hand and led you both to his room. “I need to tell you something, and maybe ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“When I was in Wakanda Shuri promised me that if I ever wanted to go back I was welcome, and that I could live there, work there, have a life there and… and doll I want to retire, I’m done with this life, I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“Do it.” You said after a few minutes of silence, the hopeful look in his eyes hurt your heart, and even though it meant that what ever you two were was now at an end and you would have to explain to the kids that they wouldn’t see him or Alpine again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him not to go.

“What?”

“Retire, move to Wakanda and have an amazing life there.” You smiled softly at him. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, you deserve to be free Bucky.”

“B-But that’s the thing Y/n, I have you and the kids and I don’t want to leave you three behind.”

“You can always visit or we could visit you?”

Moving closer to you, taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No doll, I don’t think you understand. I’m in love with you and I love your kids like they’re my own and I’m happier than I have ever been since meeting you three, I want to ask if you will move with me? If-if not I can stay here with you, I don’t want to lose my family”

For the past year Bucky lived happily in Wakanda, true to her word Shuri welcomed him with open arms and even showed him a farm house that she got built just for him - right where his hut use to be. He had his own farm, his own sanctuary and he loved every single part of it.

Bucky would admit that he had missed New York, especially Steve and the little life he had for himself there but he knew he made the right decision by walking away from it all.

As he was walking towards his home some of the local children were playing with a football, all stopping their game to run over to him, all wanting a hug from the White Wolf as they still called him.

“Daddy!”

“Ah, there’s my little girl! How are you princess?”

“I’m okay, are we going home?”

“You can stay out and play for a little bit? I don’t think momma will be mad.”

“No, I want to go home now.” Watching as she waves goodbye to her friends, she lifts her arms out for him to pick her up.

“You are so heavy now.”

“No I’m not!” She giggles.

Walking through the gate and down the pathway Bucky opens the door, helping his little girl take her shoes off as well as his own, Alpine trots over to them giving them a welcome home meow.

“Momma we’re home!”

They both stand there hearing footsteps come closer to them. “Did you have fun Cory?”

“I did momma, where’s Jaspy?”

“He’s in the living room baby. Hey handsome.”

“Hi beautiful.”

When Bucky asked if you would move to Wakanda with him, you was skeptical, it’s not that you didn’t want to go but you had two children to think about. You asked Cora about it and she seemed happy about moving to a new place, Tony let Bucky take a jet for the four of you to fly out to see how the kids took to the place.

Cora’s jaw dropped wide open when she met Shuri. “A-A real princess!” She stuttered, you thought she was going to collapse the second Shuri opened her arms for the six year old to hug her. Cora instantly made friends with some of the children she met, and when she met the farm animals it was that moment she was sold on moving there.

Jasper seemed happy too, he was fascinated by the goats and wanted to touch each and every one of them. Bucky told you that Alpine now had competition.

After a few days in the beautiful land you came back to New York, the next day you sat the kids down and asked them if they wanted to stay - both shaking their heads- or go to Wakanda - both of them screaming ‘yes’. A week later both yours and Bucky’s apartments were empty and ready for new people to call the places home.

“How are my babies doing?”

“Jasper and Alpine decided to wreck the play room.” You both chuckled. “And this little one has been very active today.” Bucky’s hands went straight to your growing bump, his eyes lighting up at feeling his third child move around in the love of his life’s stomach.

Five months ago you found out you were pregnant, and whilst you was happy you couldn’t help but feel nervous about Bucky’s behaviour changing towards Cora and Jasper, when you told him he burst out crying and kept saying that he was going to be a dad again, he kissed you and your stomach. It wasn’t just you that was scared but Cora was as well, Bucky promised that he would love all his children equally, later that night he promised you that nothing would change and that he is still Cora and Jaspers dad regardless.

“I love you and I love our perfect family.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

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dawnwriterimagines · 1 day ago

Text

Rewriting Part 5 of Traitors Among Us

CLEAR SKIES (A Rewrite)

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x PLATONIC!FEM!READER Rewrite of PART 5 of Traitors Among Us

Traitors Among Us Masterlist

Summary: With your resignation approved, Price discovers you've resigned. You head back to begin to pack your life away from Task Force 141, running into those who've betrayed you.

Author Note: Soooo, I decided to rewrite Clear Skies: part 5 of Traitors Among Us because...I didn't like it as much lol, and it wasn't received as nicely as the other parts. It's pretty much completely different lol. So, here I am rewriting this part! Don't worry, the multiple endings of Traitors Among Us will be releasing very soon...

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Silence filled the air in the Chief Officer’s office, thick with tension. Captain John Price stood rigid, arms crossed, eyes locked on Laswell as she calmly sipped from her tea, her lips set in an almost casual line. He’d expected a straightforward debrief, not this.

“You did what?” Price’s voice was low, disbelieving. His brow furrowed, the anger creeping in like a slow burn.

Having arrived at the administrative building, delivering his mission reports and making his way into Laswell's office. Captain John Price wasn't expecting to receive the surprising news so casually that the woman in front of him had signed off on your resignation, without so much as consulting with him, your Captain.

"I gave her what she wanted, John," Laswell rolled her eyes, sitting in her seat. "I let her go. She was never about to meet with you, and I won't let a soldier like that leave, under my supervision, without some type of severance," she speaks, casually, tapping her spoon of tea along the rim of a porcelain mug. "I do apologize, I was actually preparing a better way to tell you this. Time got away from me, I suppose." Although, Laswell says so unapologetically as she takes her first sip with a hum.

Price blinked, caught off guard by the detached nature of her words. He shook his head slowly, still processing.

"Severance?" Price gritted. "She didn't lose her place on the force, Laswell. She's on temporary leave for recovery not discharged--I would've never--"

"Oh, stop it, John," Sweeping away a few locks of hair, Laswell sits back in her chair. "Even if, would it matter? The girl's petrified of you, if she saw you she might actually kill you," she can't help but release a humored hum. "Willing to turn down her pension, her insurance, just to resign in peace.

She would've never come to you, and you were foolish enough to think she'd stay," she laughs this time at the absurdity of it. "She wanted an out," she takes another sip, shrugging. "I gave it to her." She then slides a few papers her way, preparing to continue her paperwork, interrupted for the second time today.

Slamming a hand over the stack of papers, Price can't contain the expression twisting his face, his anger, his grief. "Let her what?! You stripped her of her title, does she know that? There is no lawful resignation without my signature, what've you done?"

"Well, you are in need of a Demolition Operative now, I will say," she hummed, tapping the spoon against the rim of her mug, her voice annoyingly casual. "I already have someone in mind, luckily for you."

"Operative Gray is an integral part of this Task Force, it's not up to you how I handle my team anywhere outside of our missions, Laswell," Price hardly held his tone.

“Funny, John,” Laswell mused, not looking up, her voice dripping with dry amusement. “I seem to remember you handling a certain... situation under my orders.” Her eyes met his now, sharp and calculating. "Just fine."

Price’s jaw tightened, and the old guilt gnawed at him. “The worst mistake I’ve made on the force.” His voice was quiet but raw.

Laswell’s smile didn’t fade a bit. “No, John,” she said softly, her tone almost teasing now. “Your mistake is thinking you have any authority here that I don’t already have.”

Price froze for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He reached for the papers on the desk, his hand curling into a fist before he let them go. Laswell slid the stack back across the desk with a single, deliberate motion, then stood up.

As she passed him, her shoulder brushed against his, and he stiffened, barely holding himself together.

“Oh, John,” she said, almost too sweetly. “The military is engrained in all of us. In your blood. In hers. Don’t worry,” she hummed, tapping the edge of a file. “She’ll be back. They always come back. In one way or another.”

"Well..." Laswell shrugs, calmly. "Just never to Task Force 141," she turns back to Captain Price, dismissed him with a wave, leaning back in her chair., slipping a file from her desk. "Not like that wasn't the original plan before our informant came clean, hm?"

Wary, grieving eyes drift away from the Station Chief, chest tight. "Well what about Gray?" Price swallows. "I can't allow her to leave without everything she deserves from her service, I won't."

"Christ, John, you take the fun out of everything nowadays." Laswell’s smirk faded into something more calculating, more serious, before rolling her eyes. "We'll hold off on that for now," before Price can interject, she holds up a new folder, stamped a harsh red CLASSIFIED, it glares up at him. "You and your team have other matters to discuss."

Price hesitated, brows furrowed. He took the folder, the tension in his muscles still tight. He opened it quickly, scanning the document with a sharp eye. His face darkened as he read, the information weighing a heavy burden, but nothing he could say was undeserved.

Lips pressing tight together, John Price presses down into the folder hard, creasing the papers and clenching his jaw. Fuck.

---

The sliding doors open automatically, the lobby going quiet at the sight of your sopping wet figure stumbling through the entrance. Dropping your hands from over your head, you pause to stare down those who held eye contact too comfortably, quickly their stares dropped.

Entering the residential building, it's nearly midnight, the mess halls still quite lively, soldiers prepping for their next mission or staying guard in the halls. Your boots squeak with every step unwarrantedly, trailing a puddle as you shuffle your way down the hallway, face flushed cold from the rain.

The hall seems much too long suddenly, the wet squeak along the marble floor, the damp cling of your clothes to your skin, the uncomfortable twist of your brace around your legs, the pruning of your fingers. You were ready to just lock yourself away in your room, pack and never see even the silhouette of this place ever again.

Rushing to the elevator, ignoring the whispers, the burning eyes on the back of your head, you rub your clothed arms to warm yourself up, soaked to the bone. Stealing a jacket from one of the racks before leaving the building, it wasn't as insulated as you'd hoped but it was better than nothing, or Kyle's pity wear.

Pressing the upper arrow, you wait for it to light up.

It doesn't.

So you press it again. This time it does glow, finally.

...But, no opening.

You wait a few seconds, then check the electronic number above.

First Floor.

You press the arrow again. Waiting for the doors to open.

Clearing your throat, you press down on the down arrow this time. Just open up.

Nothing again.

Motherfucker...

A few heads turn while you press the buttons on the elevator one too many times, taking a breath as you continue to tap on the buttons along the panel. You didn't care as long as it would just open. Up. Down. Up. Up. Up. Down. Fucking somewhere, just open the fuck UP!

"Just fuckin open..." you grit out, attempting to keep your nerves down. For all you knew, Simon or Price, or Kyle or Johnny, could've seen you enter the building, they could be walking up to you right now. The very thought had you anxiously holding down on the elevator buttons, contemplating the stairs but walking was already a hassle with your brace. "Open. Open, open, open!"

"Open!" Your fist coming up in frustration to slam into the panel, the metal creaks and bends back but it doesn't make the elevator go any faster. It does hurt your hand though.

Taking your now sore fingers into your grip, pressing into your knuckles, your nostrils flare and you take a breath. You don't dare turn around as you hear the chuckle behind you, you can feel your teeth already grinding to nubs.

"So, you're the reason this thing breaks down every week, huh?" sliding up next to you, a soldier, lieutenant by the single silver bar on the shoulder of his uniform, his kevlar unhooked and new, prepping for departure. "Ya know, you can't make it go any faster that way?" nodding to the dented panel, before flashing a charmed smile your way.

Narrowed eyes link with his. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, all he can do is stare back, words lost on his tongue as he darts between your eyes, mesmerized. His smile doesn't drop even as he clear his throat, "I just mean, you'll hurt your...hand."

"Oh, will I? I didn't know that," you wonder, sarcastically. Before, hitting the panel again, a louder bang sounds in the hallway, causing attention. "Maybe I'm doing it wrong." A screw comes loose with a cling, your jaw twitching at the sound as he only huffs a humored sound.

"Yeah," he chuckles briefly as the metal falls with a klunk. "You're quite the mechanic."

"Can I help you, lieutenant?"

"Just a stranger, looking out for another, that's all," the lieutenant says simply.

"Ok, Stranger," you speak, this time turning your back as the elevator finally beeps as it descends to the ground floor. You direct your chin back to where he came. "You can leave now."

He feigned disappointment. "Ouch," he sported a playful grin. "I thought we were getting along pretty well."

"Well I'm sure you've got a flight to catch, don't let a stranger make you late."

"The only stranger I've met worth being late for," he says, genuinely.

"Oh!" Surprised, you glance away from him. "Subtle," you take a step back, uncomfortable with the space between the both of you now. You lean against the edge of the elevator door, it dings again, your knee brace wasn't helping your leg pain at all.

His charming smile fades, brows lifting as he quickly backs off, reading the lines. "Oh, sorry, I-"

"No," you clear your throat, hearing the ding of the elevator behind you. "No, no I'm just..." your hand goes to your ring finger, you used to fidget with your engagement ring all the time, there used to be a tan line imprinting it along your skin, now that same finger was scarred up to the nail. "I'm just not the flirting type right now." Your hand tensing up, balling into a fist, you'd nearly forgotten...

"Ah," He notices, clearing his throat, embarrassed at himself. "You're with someone."

You wanted to scoff at that, not anymore.

"No," Your knuckles cracked. "Just uninterested." Your hand falls to your side. The years you'd spent loving Simon, adoring him, fighting beside him, all that time...it was painful to know it would all just lead up to this. But, it was easier now to just feel nothing because it ended such a way.

The elevator opens and the both of you looks back towards it.

The lieutenant's eyes flicker back to you. "M' sorry," your brows lift in question. "About your...lover."

"He's not dead," you say.

His lips press together, thoughtfully, before nodding once. "Sounds like quite the guy."

"No idea," you scoff, an understatement indeed.

After a moment of silence, the elevator door, with a squeak, beginning to close. The persistent stranger puts his hand out before you have to, fully stopping the closing door before it can seal, taking a large step to catch it.

You froze as he unintentionally corners you, for the moment take him in, analyzing every detail as you'd always done as a soldier. His hair and clothes damp from the rain, cheeks flushed for a reason you weren't sure of.

He reminded you terrifyingly of Simon. Though the two had to be quite different in all capacities besides ranking and muscle definition.

He's tall, wide broad shoulders, a scar curved through his left brow to his temple, green wide eyes and he smelled...warm, was the only way you could describe it. You're sure his skin would feel as so.

You were quite cold from the rain, though you've been freezing ever since that day and you've never gotten past the phantom cold, eager to be warm again.

Not once in this disturbing, cold and humiliating event had you ever felt a moment of comfort. Of warm, loving comfort. A single embrace would destroy your every resolve. Not a minute, not a second, not a breath of warmth.

Your eyes flicker up, surprised to meet his staring back, seemingly taking you in the same way. His hand leaving the opening elevator door, to rest above the wall above your head. He was close enough for you to feel the leather of his kevlar against the back of your hand, for once your first thought wasn't to push someone away. His gaze lingers on the fresh scar beneath your eye, the tinted pink fading in the white of it.

"You shouldn't do that," you breathe.

There's nothing good here left for you anymore.

You're no longer a soldier.

"Do what?" he asked.

No longer apart of the Task Force, no longer apart of any of this.

And the scars you'd be left with just for being here...

Bringing your hand up to your face, running over the raised, ruined skin, your jaw tightening and your lips pressing together. You shift to the side, your hand finding the handle grip along the sides of the elevator doors.

He notices, straightening, awkwardly. Swallowing thickly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..." he squeezes his fist, as if berating himself internally. "--that's quite the memorabilia." Again his expression twists at his own question, fist squeezing, that was a dumb thing to ask.

"It is," you grazed the tender flesh of your scars. "Isn't it."

"I'm sure you've got quite the story."

Lips pressing together hard, fingers curling into your palm as if your own scars had burned you.

"Um..." going into detail meant a lot of things you didn't want to confront right now, pressing the button for the elevator again, it opens this time. "I appreciate the conversation, stranger. But, you should go."

"I'm sorry-" he realized he'd touched unsavory ground, voice lowered with regret. "I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," you swallowed thickly, taking a breath. "It was nice to meet you truly."

He follows you to the divide of the open elevator as you step in and though the divide, turning to see his face, desperate for a glimpse of yours.

Your stranger speaks soundly. "Wes."

His name you realized, you press your lips together, thoughtfully as he stares at you, not expecting anything in return, seeming peaceful with you just...knowing. The elevator doors slipping closed. You say nothing else, but you can't help but look at him differently, humming softly. You supposed he was no longer a stranger.

"Ok..." you managed a meaningful smile that struggled to begin. "Wes, then."

You could see the relief in the drop of his shoulders.

As the metal doors ding in preparation to close, you catch a glimpse of someone beyond your persistent stranger, as he turns to leave.

An approaching figure that enters the building, exiting the rain with heavy steps, dragging his feet along the marble, a black mask painted white along the curves of his mouth and nose, a skull. Stalking the halls like the ghost he preferred to be, Simon.

And he haunts you as so.

You hardly notice as the doors begin to close, a sinking feeling in your stomach erupting as you made eye contact with Simon Riley.

His slow, deliberate steps become nonexistent, he's instantly rooted to the floor, you were sure he'd even stopped breathing.

Though you felt your blood run cold, your chest squeezing violently with ache, and a rage in your soul that begged you to claw his fucking eyes out and rip out his heart like he'd done to you weeks ago, you didn't freeze.

No, instead your hand comes out, taking the closing end of the elevator door. It pauses with an electronic strain of its gears beneath your resistance, while you stare unblinkingly at your Ghost. And it opens again with a light ding.

Simon's eyes widen a fraction, he straightens noticeably, hopefully. His hand coming up, pulling at his mask, the skulls creasing down to reveal himself to you, but he'd remain as so...your ghost.

"(Y/n)..." you can hear the whisper of your name from his lips, but you've turned from him now.

Stepping forward and off the divide of the elevator, you take Wes by the arm, pulling him back around to you, his eyes are wide in surprise, innocent enough to have never expected more from your encounter and unable to find the nerve to speak smoothly now that you're making a move.

"Sorry..." you breathe to him, before reaching up and pressing your mouth to his.

It's not a messy kiss.

It's hardly a kiss.

But, it gets the message across.

You had loved Simon, completely and utterly. There was no punch or kick you could ever throw at Simon that could convey the collapse of those feelings.

So this, was the next best thing.

As Wes melts into your lips for the brief moment of surprise intimacy of a stranger, you cup the back of his neck, as you've done many times for Simon. Eyes opening to gaze back to your ghost, and as you do, you're not surprised to see him practically looming over the two of you.

He's a mess of himself. A fraction of the man he was before. A ghost of himself.

But, he'd always been a ghost to be feared.

As Wes's hand climbs up to grip at your hair, you retreat back, tucking your hair back and taking a breath.

Your guiltless eyes blink up to Wes, "You should go."

Hardly given a moment to recuperate, still reorganizing the thoughts you'd taken and filled him with all in the seconds you'd spared him with. He, rightfully confused, breathes. "What?"

"She said, you should go."

As Simon speaks, voice heavy with emotion, anger and resentment but most of all hurt, PAIN. Only then do your lungs fill with air again, untainted by the weight of your fears of him, of broken dreams and memories your defiled love.

"My dead lover's risen again," you speak, sarcastically. Staring down the hollow-eyed man, "A ghost."

The metal doors close with a light thud.

And so, maybe you had no fear of him anymore. Maybe you were tired of being frightened. Whatever it was had more guts than you had the energy to have in the last few weeks.

Because the next thing you know, you're shoving past Wes, blood red in the tint of your vision, your fingers expertly popping the gun out of his holster and you take your aim at Simon.

He doesn't flinch.

Neither do you.

Your finger is steady on the trigger. And you pull.

---

The subtle light of the safe house cast shadows across the room, the usual tension of Task Force 141 momentarily replaced by an air of anticipation. Everyone knew but you. Ghost stood slightly apart from the group, his mask hiding the myriad of emotions that flickered beneath. He’d planned this moment carefully and yet being trapped in a safe house during the night of the dinner he'd planned for you both wasn't apart of it. It was still meant to be tonight.

Your lover stared at you in the reflection of the window, catching your beautiful eyes in the glass, they sparkle and his bones feel liquid and he nearly loses his grip on the velvet box. What better time could there be?

Ghost turned to you, pulling his mask away, revealing Simon Riley, garnering your attention with a surprised stare, "What's...goin' on?"

His deep voice steady yet laced with a rare vulnerability. “Wherever you are, I wanna be,” he took a step. "Wherever you go, whether you like it or not, I'm goin' too."

"Stalker," you quipped, though your voice could barely reach a whisper as you stared at the tiny box in his hand, watching as he came closer.

He cracked a smile, but he continued. "Everywhere you are, anywhere you want to be, if you'll let me, since you're right...I just can't stay away," he teased, watching as you short circuit as he approaches steadfast. "...and if you want me, as you'll have me...I wanna be everywhere you are."

The team fell silent, the weight of the moment sinking in. Price raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk dancing on his lips, while Johnny tried to stifle a grin, Kyle cursed quietly shifting in anticipation. "The best thing I've ever held onto in this life is you. It will always be you."

Simon takes the closing steps to you, watching you closely, the two of you sharing the same overwhelming expression, though yours freer in its willingness to express. He was being serious. This was really happening. "I can't imagine taking on this life of chaos without you."

With a small, almost hesitant movement, Simon revealed the velvet box. The flicker of metal caught the light as he produced a small box, his hands surprisingly unsteady. His eyes momentarily flickering downwards before gathering the nerve to look you in the eye again. “We’ve been through hell, we're in the aftermath of it now, another glimpse not far behind, but there’s no one I'll ever know, that I’d rather have by my side.” He dropped to one knee, the rest of the team exchanging glances, a mix of excitement and surprise evident in their expressions. "No one but you."

As Simon kneels before you, your heart races, disbelief clear on your face, brows furrowing into each other, watering as you look to him, all your feelings flooding your senses. His words echo in your mind, and the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you.

“Marry me...” His voice was firm, yet you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he waited with baited breath, his shoulders halting all movement as he wouldn't take a single breath until your answer. "I'll choose you. I'll choose you every time..." The room held its breath, the only sound the quiet rustle of fabric as the team leaned in slightly, as if to witness a moment that transcended their usual world of warfare. "Marry me..." his voice is a breath against your skin.

You feel your heart race with feelings that seared itself into your soul, a moment that would never leave you, your vision blurred with tears. "Simon..." the world narrowing down to Simon and the hope in his gaze. The silence was palpable, a shared moment of vulnerability among seasoned soldiers. Finally, you nodded, emotions swirling as a smile broke across your face. “Yes,” you laughed with a sob, nodding as you wiped your face. "Of course, Simon. Yes!"

Simon rose, slipping the ring onto your finger as cheers erupted from the team. The laughter and joyful roars of Task Force 141, your family, fade into the background as you focus solely on Simon, the man you love.

Johnny clapped Simon on the back, Price grinned widely, laughing heartily in glee, and Kyle let out a whoop of approval. In that moment, amidst the chaos of their lives, there was a rare glimpse of hope and happiness—a reminder of what they were truly fighting for.

---

The clouds, still held hostage by the night, moved almost imperceptibly through the midnight air, the rain having stopped by now and the stars taking action to be seen beyond.

You breathe evenly, stroking the broken skin of your knuckles, smearing the blood that still leaked through and picking at the dried specks of it along your nails.

Heavy hangs the air as you sit in your silence, nothing but the light scrapes of your nails along your own skin. Then, a heavy padding of footsteps outside the door, your eyes drawing to the movement as a shadow pulls along the flooring of the lighting beneath the doorway, the door clicks open.

A round-faced, army suited man, your attorney, enters the room, behind him two men standing at attention, stomping his dark boots down onto the old wood eager to be noticed, lifting a document to read. "Sergeant (L/N), due to potential endangerment of yourself and your fellow man, you are to be supervised continuously throughout the night until the remainder of your scheduled departure from central Orloz Military Base.

From there, as requested, all contact will be terminated, all personal and packaged requests, terminated. All inquiries, all personal and otherwise familial advises for continued contact, terminated. Due to the nature of your injuries and the unprecedented circumstances brought upon by the events of June 23rd 2023, you've been pardoned from additional..."

What use is there listening to more?

Leaning your head against the cool glass, you let yourself fall blissfully unaware of his voice, drowning in the sea of your own mind.

You stare down at the scars enveloping your hands, your wrists, still raw and sensitive even now. Along your ring finger was the imprint of your engagement ring, it would fade with time, but nothing else would.

You felt so blind, so dumb for thinking this family was ever real, that they were anymore than colleagues, soldiers of war. An idiot for believing in Ghost, believing that he was more than the soldier you'd fought beside for a decade.

Who would've thought things would've turned out this way.

The weight of everything—the heartbreak, the disappointments—were pressing down on your chest like a block of cement.

Letting the absent, warm tears fall down your cheeks, soaking into the dampness of your shirt.

You press your palms into your thighs, trying to ground yourself, but the overwhelming feeling spiraled further, tightening your throat till it hurt.

So, when he leaves, claiming to be back to escort you back to your quarters, you sit there. You sat there for hours. Or maybe it just felt like it. Either way, it didn't matter.

This time tomorrow you'd be off base, no longer a soldier but a citizen of no one, with no one to turn to and disowned by your family...

What was there to look forward to now?

Your hand comes up, tracing the water lines running down the glass, the ray of light from the street lamps that burn into the room, stinging at your eyes and lighting up the evening.

A streak of red follows your stained fingers.

Dried blood melting off your skin and running down the glass, falling slow.

Nothing to look forward to at all...

Multiple Endings coming soon. The end of Traitors Among Us... STAY TUNED

#call of duty x reader #cod angst #traitors among us series #simon riley angst x reader #ghost angst #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley angst #traitors among us #call of duty angst #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #rewrite

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thehaberdasheress · 2 months ago

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Wishing strength to the sword arms at the Canadian Union of Postal Workers, who are striking for better wages and working conditions at Canada Post. That's our national mail service, which is currently shut down - mail across Canada is not being collected, processed, or delivered until an agreement is reached.

Postal workers do hard and invaluable work that is the backbone of our economy, and also my business. The union are fighting for a lot of things, from rest and meals during the workday to gender-affirming care in their insurance package.

This means I'm writing my MP to encourage the government and Canada Post to find resolution through compromise, not force and legislation.

I apologize to my customers for any delays or expenses that happen while this dispute drags on. I'll do my best to find alternate mail carriers and let you know what's going on. This will affect orders of embroidery patterns and sewing tools, but print-on-demand items like mugs, dresses, or umbrellas should still work smoothly.

#shop updates #canada post

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vicsnook · 5 months ago

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Out of Oklahoma | Tyler Owens x Reader

word count: 3326

warnings: Tornadoes, Loss, Implied smut

notes: Hey y’all 🤠 I am back with some more content! When I tell y’all I was sat at that theater. Even my boyfriend was thirsting over Glen (specifically in the rain scene, iykyk). Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this one and please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

I crawl out of the hotel bed at 5, hitting the snooze button on the way to the bathroom. My reflection looks back at me less than thrilled for what’s to come today.

Apparently the world hates me because there is no coffee to brew when I check the kitchenette, so now my day’s gone from bad to worse. I check my phone and sure enough I have a million messages from my dumba-sweet brother Boone about how he can’t wait for me to meet his friends.

I'm not ready for that. But nevertheless I carry on and make my way to the airport to board a flight to take me home, to Oklahoma. It’s fine, I think to myself. It’s all going to be okay. But I know it’s a lie. Still I get on the plane and pretend I’m going somewhere tropical instead of the one place I swore I wouldn’t return to.

The wheels touch down roughly on the strip, startling me awake. Here goes nothing. The airport is packed but thankfully all I have is my carry on which holds what little I left to California with six months ago. So much for making a life for myself.

The old Ram is parked just outside the doors and I know I can’t put this off any longer. After what happened last year, I want to turn around and get the hell out of dodge but I can’t avoid him forever. Not when my family needs me, well what’s left of it. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat drug in.”

I sigh and look up, locking eyes with the one person I didn’t want to see ever again. Tyler Owens. My ex-fiancée.

“Tyler. Nice to see you didn’t get blown away by a Tornado,” I force out with the fakest smile I can muster. God knows I’d love to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, amongst other things, I shake my head dismissing the stupid thought.

“Y/N, good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. That all your luggage?” he asks, grabbing my carry on from me and placing it in the bed of the truck before I can even answer. “Yep,” I mumble, getting into the truck.

“So, where’s Boone?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.

Tyler glances over at me and I feel my stomach do a stupid flip. Stop it!

“He’s at your Nana’s house dealing with some of the insurance people. I’m really sorry about what happened, Y/N.” he says. “We tried to warn them.”

“I know,” I say. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know it would turn and hit them directly.” I start to reach for his arm to comfort him but pull it back, the gesture feeling inappropriate after all that happened between us.

He nods and continues to drive on. Him and Boone blame themselves but I know there’s nothing they could’ve done. I just wish they’d see it that way.

The ruins of the home we grew up in come into view and my heart shatters all over again. The anger bubbling in my stomach as I see all the tornado took from us. Why!? Why us!? I want to scream at the sky as I walk up to my brother who I can tell is barely holding it together.

“Hey Boonie,” I whisper, hugging his back. His breathing shakes as he turns and pulls me into a hug, nearly suffocating me. “I tried sissy, I really did but they’re gone.” he says, “I was too late.”

I hold him as he finally breaks down and I try whispering reassurances in his ear but I know he’s not listening. My eyes make contact with Tyler’s as he heads towards the rubble and begins to sort things out.

“It’s not your fault, Boonie.” I say, holding his face so he looks at me. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He nods quietly, pulling me in for another hug as the guilt consumes me for having left him behind. I should’ve never gone to California.

I follow Tyler to the entrance of the dingy motel on the edge of town, still holding on to Boone’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Y/N.” Boone says, handing me the key to my room. “Always,” I respond. Squeezing his hand one last time as he turns to go to his room.

“Where’s the rest of your crew? I haven’t seen them.” I ask Tyler as we head up the stairs since our rooms are on the second floor. “They’re helping some people downtown that got hit too. They asked me to give you their condolences.” He answers, stopping in front of my door.

“Um, thanks and thank you for all you’ve been doing for Boone. I hate that I couldn’t get here sooner.” I say. “California wasn’t all I thought it’d be.”

“Tried to tell ya.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Tyler.”

He moves a step forward and drops his mouth beside my ear, the distance between us almost non-existent. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” He drawls, pulling back, then turning around and walking into his room, leaving me in the hallway.

This man will be the death of me.

The weeks go by slowly as we deal with the insurance but somewhere along the way we finally get Nana’s ashes back. Boone and I take them out to the river, spreading them at the one place she loved most.

“So how are things between Kate and Tyler?” I ask Boone as we head back to the motel from the pizza parlor.

My stomach clenches, waiting for his answer.

He looks at me and grins. “Why you want to know Sissy? Any interest in getting back in that saddle?”

“Ew! No! I was just curious, Boone.” I say, glaring at him while he laughs.

“They never really were anything serious. She ran off to New York City the second she got her research. Oklahoma held too many painful memories for her or something.”

I nod. Pulling into the motel parking lot that we now call home. That is until the money from the insurance comes through and we can get to rebuilding Nana’s place.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Says Boone pointing at Tyler who’s getting out of his truck. The white shirt clinging to his chiseled chest because of the rain.

He really does look good in a cowboy hat. I think, quickly shaking my head trying to erase the thought. “Close your mouth Sissy, you’re gonna get drool all over yourself.” Boone teases and I playfully smack him, tearing my eyes off Tyler.

“You know Sissy, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I ask, turning off the ignition.

“How y’all girls run away from that man. I mean I ain’t blind and I may be biased because he’s my best friend but his personality doesn’t suck either.” I sigh, knowing he’s not wrong.

“It’s complicated.” I finally say, and get out of the car. Heading for my room before Boone can add anything else.

“Where are we going?” I ask again for the millionth time. Letting Tyler and Boone blindfold me was starting to seem like a mistake the longer we were in the truck.

It also didn’t help that Tyler was playing the cd I burned for him back in high school.

“Almost there, Sissy.” Boone assures me, as the truck left the paved road and headed down a dirt road. Please Lord don’t let this be another one of Boone’s pranks.

Tyler helps me out the truck and leads me down a rocky path. My nerves increasing by the second and wondering where my brother had ran off to.

“Tada!” yells Boone, the bandana falling off my eyes as Tyler pulls off the knot.

“I know it ain't much Sissy but I couldn’t let you keep living in that Motel much longer.” Boone says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the tiny home that now sits behind where Nana’s new house will be. “So, you hate it?”

“No! Thank you so much!” I yell, pulling him into a hug. “You really didn’t have to do this Boonie.” Tears stream down my face as my brother squeezes me. Thank you God for such a good brother.

“I can’t take all the credit, it was Tyler’s idea after all.” Boone whispers to me. I nod, pulling away and wiping the tears off my cheeks.

Lord knows if things were different I’d be running to Tyler and giving him a big ol’ kiss right now. But they aren’t. I remind myself so I settled for just saying “Thank you, Ty.”

“Not a problem.” He says, turning to follow my brother to my now little home.

“Please work, come on!” I yell at the shower. My little home was nothing but perfect, well except for the water which always seemed to go out at the most inconvenient times.

I try calling Boone but I’m greeted by his voicemail which only leaves one other person to call. Sighing I pull up his contact and dial. Ignoring the contact picture that I never bothered to change.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um sorry to bother but I can’t reach Boone and my water went out again while I was washing my hair,” I say, already regretting calling him.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He replies, hanging up before I can say anything else. I pull on a bathrobe and tidy up before he gets here. I wince when I see my hair in the mirror, suds still in it but oh well. Tyler’s seen me how the lord made me so I doubt a little bit of suds will make me ugly.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his knocking and I think as I open the door that maybe I should’ve thrown some clothes on. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as he makes his way to the water heater closet to check there first.

The minutes pass and the silence is eating me alive. The temptation to say that I was wrong for ending things the way I did consumes me. So much so that I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he comes to stand in front of me.

“Earth to Y/N? It’s fixed. You shouldn’t have any more issues.”

“Thanks Ty. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I reply, his eyes meeting mine.

“Live your life without fear of me dying everyday because of what I do,” he says, it's clear to me then that the wound is still very much open.

He starts to head for the door but I’m quick to get up and grab his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ty, I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? All I did was trade tornadoes for earthquakes. Happiness for misery. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” I say, my eyes searching for his.

“You left me, Y/N. You packed your bags and left without saying a word, leaving all of us behind. So, no, sorry doesn’t cut it here. I’m sorry about your Nana but you made your mistakes. Live with them.” He replies, the anger in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat long enough for him to walk out and slam the door on his way out. What the fuck did I do and how can I even fix it?

** 6 months later **

Nana’s house is finished. It looks similar to the one the tornado tore from the ground but me and Boone know it couldn’t be more different.

We bring in what we could salvage slowly and try to make it look as closely as possible to the original one. Lastly, placing a picture of Nana, Boone, and I, that Lily recovered from the wreckage on the mantel.

“Close enough,” Boone whispers, sitting on the couches that Dani and Dexter got us.

“Yeah, I just wish she was still here.” I reply, sitting across from him. “You going chasing again today?”

“Yeah, but I promise we’re being safe sissy. We don’t do that driving into tornadoes and shooting off fireworks anymore after Nana,” He answers, sadness filling his features.

“Just be safe,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and letting him pull me into a hug. “Always.”

“For what it’s worth, he’s not really mad at you. He’s mad at himself for not realizing sooner how far gone you were until it was too late.”

A sigh escapes me as he gets up, giving me a faint smile before walking out the door. Off to chase the very thing that took the last bit of family we had.

The rain came in buckets. All day it’d been so pretty but as soon as I stepped outside the grocery store, I saw how much the sky had changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as lightning struck.

Rushing to my car, I threw the groceries in the back seat but before I could throw the car in reverse I heard it.

The tornado sirens.

I threw open the car door and started sprinting back into the grocery store but a cry for help stopped me before I could make it in. Lord please protect them. I prayed quickly.

Debris was already flying all around me when I turned to look for the source of the pleas and then I spotted her. A girl who looked no more than 15 was on the ground in the parking lot, her leg in a cast and her crutches nowhere to be seen. “Please help me!”

I ran towards her. My body going into overdrive as the wind threatened to push me over too. “Please don’t let me die,” she begged as I threw her arm around me and hurried back for the door.

The wind picked up even more and the rain turned into hail as I trekked through the lot trying to make it back inside. The short distance seemed infinite.

I felt it before I could even turn. It was there. The loud roar filled my ears as I pulled the girl in front of me and with the last of my strength I had, I pushed her to where the door was.

Then my feet left the ground as the tornado sucked me in and I felt the world go black.

“Bo-one?” I rasp, my throat on fire and my entire body feeling like it’d been run over. The events leading up to this moment slowly coming back to me as I struggle to open my eyes.

“Hey, he’s just outside talking to the doctor, let me get him,” replies Tyler softly. My eyes adjust to the harsh hospital lights as he steps out the door and taps Boone on the shoulder.

My head pounds as I take in my surroundings. Scratches cover up both my arms. If I looked into a mirror right now I’d probably collapse.

“Sissy! Thank God you’re okay!” Hollers Boone as he comes to my bedside, careful not to hurt me when pulling me to him. “I thought I lost you.”

His tears wetting my hospital gown as I hug him back as best I could. “I’m okay, Boonie.” I whisper in his ear as he sobs.

“Is the girl okay?” I ask, worry filling me up at the thought that she didn’t make it.

“Yes, she made it inside just in time, Sissy. You saved her life.” Boone says, taking my head in his hands and pressing our foreheads together like we did when we were kids.

I close my eyes, nodding and thanking God that we were all okay.

“I need to go sign some paperwork but if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you home today. You got lucky,” Boone tells me while getting up from my hospital bed.

“I’d love nothing more than my bed.” I reply, shooting him a smile as he steps out.

I turn to Tyler who’s been quietly standing in the corner this whole time and I notice his swollen eyes. My heart squeezing at the thought of having worried him and Boone.

“Hey,” I mutter, and his eyes finally meet mine.

“Guess Boone isn’t the only tornado chaser in the family huh,” he jokes, still standing in the corner.

“Guess not,” I reply, chuckling but my throat is so dry that it turns into a cough and he’s rushing to my bedside with a glass of water in hand.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as I chug the water. Instant relief filling my throat. “So, can you fill me in on what happened after I got sucked into the tornado?”

“Uh, well witness accounts are that you pushed the girl inside and then got sucked in. Me and Boone had been chasing the tornado and pulled into the lot as it dissipated.” He stops, taking a seat on the bed and grabbing my hand. “The people in the supermarket started pouring out and screaming that you got sucked in, of course at the time we didn’t know it’d been you. Nevertheless we all started searching and found you passed out on top of a tarp in the baseball field.”

“Oh wow, that’s quite the distance. Saved myself some gas for sure,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Y/N, you could’ve died. You got out with scratches and a story but you could’ve died,” he says, a somber look on his face.

“Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t die. Nana protected me,” I tell him, tipping his face so his eyes meet mine. “I got a second chance to start over and,” but he cuts me off.

“I love you,” he says, then his lips crash into mine. The kiss knocks the air out of my lungs but as he pulls away, I recover and pull him back to my lips.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are teary but there is no sadness in them anymore. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, if you had died, I don’t know how I could live with myself, knowing how I left things,” he says, his words piercing my heart.

“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m here and I’m okay. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about but I can promise you this, I’m not leaving Oklahoma. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips.

But before we can finish our moment with a kiss Boone is bursting through the door.

** One month later **

“Ty! Dinner’s ready!” I holler, and I hear the sound of the shower turning off. Making my way to the living room I stop and pick up my Nana’s picture, thank you for saving me. I think to myself and put it back down.

“Ty! Come on!” I yell, quietly sneaking up the stairs to our room. Glad that Boone’s off with Lily at the fair.

“Coming!” I hear him yell from the bathroom. The towel is wrapped around his waist and drops of water make their way down his abs. Man, I’d sure love to be that towel. I think to myself as I watch from the door crack but am greeted with a smirk when I make my way up to his face.

“Hey darlin’, coming to see the view?” he asks cheekily, turning to me. Busted.

“Well you’re the one who says “if you feel it, chase it,” and I sure am feeling a lot of things right now,” I reply, letting my eyes trail down his chest.

“Oh, yeah?” he replies, coming closer. “Well you better start running.”

I giggle and turn to run but don’t even make it out the room before he’s tackling me to the bed. Dinner is gonna be real cold when we’re done here.

#twisters #tyler owens #glen powell #tyler owens x reader

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holylulusworld · 9 days ago

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Roll the dice (Prologue)

Summary: You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: mafia au, angst, mentions of criminal activities, mentions of sickness, mentions of stealing, scared reader, bruises

You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Stealing from your boss wasn’t the smartest move. Even though you had no other choice.

If you hadn’t taken the money from him, your grandmother would’ve died.

She doesn’t have insurance and needed a life-saving surgery. You worked your ass off, juggling three jobs a day, only to not make ends meet.

When the doctor told you they were going to release your grandmother from the hospital to die, you had to do something—anything.

For only a moment, you lost your mind and did something you’d never have done if not for your grandmother. The woman raising you.

“Ah, there she is,” your boss chuckles when his right-hand man, the one everyone calls executioner, drags you inside his office. The man leans back in his expensive chair, legs spread wide as he runs his hands up and down his thighs. “Where did you hide, little runaway?”

You whimper, feeling another bruise form on your arm, joining the ones the executioner painted your body with. His hands are still covered in the blood of the poor motel owner who dared to try to stop him.

“Got her, Steve,” the man chasing you like feral dogs says as he pushes you toward your boss. Steven Grant Rogers. Stone-cold businessman in public, and merciless mafia boss in the shadows. “Tell me if you want me to get rid of the remnants.”

Sniffling, you surrender to faith. They don’t know about the reasons for your betrayal, and your grandmother is safe. An old friend agreed to take her in and care for her. She was always more than a good friend to your granny, and you know, she’ll keep her word.

Rogers rises from his seat to tower over you. He lifts your chin with his index finger to force you to look into your executioner’s eyes. “So, tell me, was it worth it stealing from me? Did you buy shiny things, a car maybe?”

“She didn’t have anything of value with her. Her car is a wreck, and she got kicked out of her apartment. The rat was hiding at the shadiest motel you can imagine.”

“Buck,” your boss nods. “Thank you for the input. Please bring me the box over there.” Steve says, still holding your gaze. He searches your face, enjoying the fear in your eyes and how your lips tremble.

“Got it,” Bucky gets a little black box. Instead of handing it to your boss, he places it in front of you. “I hope you enjoy the last moments of your life, little rat.” He chuckles before leaving the room.

“You know, I’m a player.” Steve flashes you a smile, but it doesn’t reach his cold blue eyes. “Rats like you have two options. You can accept your fate, and I’ll kill you fast, or you can open the box and take whatever punishment you’ll find inside.”

“What?” You furrow your brows. Steve Rogers will kill you either way. There is not a chance he’ll show mercy and let you go.

“I like to play,” he repeats. “I only play with people who didn’t steal from me for themselves or selfish reasons,” Steve smirks when you whimper again. “I know about your grandmother and where I can find her.”

You suck in a breath. “Please, I’ll do anything. Torture me, kill me. I don’t care.” You cry. “She didn’t know. I swear, Granny believes I got a promotion. Please…” You beg and plead.

“Well then, choose the box, and I’ll shelter your grandmother’s life,” he snarls. “If not, she’ll die with you tonight.”

Steve hides that he doesn’t kill grannies. He has standards and rules.

With trembling fingers, you open the box. All that you find is a red dice. It doesn’t look different from the ones you handled at the casino, though.

“Oh, the dice?” He smirks darkly and crouches down to cup your face. “You got lucky, doll. If you get a six, you are free to go.”

“What about the other numbers?” You whisper, afraid to speak louder. “Sir?”

“Every other number means fun for me,” he laughs as you make a face. “Go ahead, doll. Roll the dice.”

You grab the dice and roll it without thinking twice. Holding your breath, you watch it land on…

If you want to read more, we see us in 2025…

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #x reader #mafia au #Roll the dice #mobster!steve rogers

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intoanotherworld23 · 8 months ago

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Wanna Feel The Heat

Summary: your fathers always told you if you play with fire you’ll get burned, and with Joel you didn’t listen

Warnings: mdni 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dom Joel, security Joel, slight choking, minor spanking, dirty talk, a form of exhibitionism, praise kink

A/N: reblogs and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged. If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list don’t hesitate to ask it’s always open for everyone! Thanks so much for your continued support it means a lot to me! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Daddy know about what his precious princess is doing?" His words echoing in your ear the heat rising to your cheeks. Heavy hands gripping your hips so hard you could feel burning.

Your father was an important man, and therefore needed security to insure his safety. That's where Joel came in. Flirting back and forth with innocent touches then turning into him dragging you to the nearest bathroom. Should have your head bowed in shame for what you were doing, but instead you were bent over the sink letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

"His angelic daughter getting fucked by his security in the bathroom. So desperate to be fucked." Hearing him say it out loud was even hotter than you expected it to be.

"Hear how wet you're gettin." His southern drawl came out a hand coming down on your cheeks making you jolt as he snickers more to himself. "Gonna have this cunt achin' for days."

Joel shamelessly bucking his hips into your backside while watching you through the mirror in the bathroom. Forcing you to watch yours and his expression. Taking notice how his cheeks were bright red, and pressing his lips together when he felt himself getting closer. Everything about this was wrong yet neither one of you were doing anything to stop it.

"Should have you scream so daddy can hear." Continuing with the crude comments as he buried his cock deeper inside of your raw cunt. The thought of him running up here was terrifying. Not able to hold in the little whimpers and moans that escaped your lips. Joel knew this undoubtedly judging by the tears forming in your ears you couldn't handle that kind of pressure. "Don't worry sweetheart I don't wanna be interrupted."

"Joel please I'm so close." Biting down on your arm with frustration at how close you were wanting nothing more than to feel that warm feeling ignite all over your body.

"Got you right where I want you princess." Mocking you as he dipped down thrusting at an all new angle a loud gasp escaping past your lips. Reaching a hand to grab your neck and pull your head to look up at the ceiling. Grinding deep rotating his hips looking down briefly to see your slickness trailing along his length.

"Takin my cock so well. This cunt was made for me." Speaking confidently as he kept light pressure on your neck proud how easily you were submitting to him. Loving the sounds of your cheeks smacking against his thighs like it was music to his ears.

Joel could sense that you were struggling to release almost like you were fighting it. Reaching his other hand around to your front finding your sensitive clit rubbing fast circles coaxing the orgasm from you. Keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground as he rocked his hot body into yours. Your neck was starting to really ache, but you were so close you were powering through.

Body slumping against the sink hand falling from your neck as your body fell completely numb to your euphoric state. Cunt clenching his cock like a vine as you trembled and shook around him. Both hands held onto your hips as he continued to pump himself swiftly and deep. Not taking long before he was spilling his seed.

"That's a good girl. Such a good fuckin girl for me." Praising as he rubbed his hands up and down your back reaching a hand towards your puffy cunt to feel where you two were connected. Still trying to catch your breath as his finger collected both your juices on his finger.

It was something that snapped in you as he softly touched and caressed your body, and how his eyes looked at your body in admiration. It had you wanting more of him. Wanting to taste more and to feel more. Like the wild animal locked away in the cage was banging against the bars to get out.

"Good thing daddy didn't hear us after all." Joking as he smeared his finger across your mouth looking up to see the milky substance shine on your lips. A devilish smile appearing on your face as you licked it up shamelessly only to make Joel grin widely his cock twitching inside of you. "I see daddy's princess wants some more."

“Well I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t taking care of you.”

#pedro pascal #joel miller #Pedro pascal smut #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller x reader #Pedro pascal blurb #Joel miller blurb #securty Joel miller #Pedro pascal fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal imagines #Joel miller imagines

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miazetomer · 2 months ago

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Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part IX)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, takes place during season four, the usual

Summary: You were back on Kildare after two years. You were able to finish your business degree at UNC Chapel Hill in just two years after earning enough college credits in high school. But, you came back as a force to be reckoned with. You had your own very successful development company which just so happened to be Cameron Development’s newest competition. Two years later and you’re still finding ways to get under Rafe’s skin.

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♡♡♡

You groaned as you felt your phone vibrating under your pillow, waking you up from your dreamless slumber. You checked the time quickly before you picked up the call from John B.

“John B Routledge, do you know what time it is?” You said as soon as you picked up the phone, your morning voice doing very little to hide your annoyance.

“I know I’m sorry, y/n, but I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” John B sounded panicked on the other line, making you sit up so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, already getting out of bed and throwing whatever t-shirt on that you could find in your closet and a pair of shorts.

“It’s JJ, he got hurt.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You said before hanging up. You slid on your closest pair of shoes and ran downstairs grabbing the keys to your car.

You raced to the hospital, every possibility running through your head as to what could have happened and the worst possible outcomes. You were just glad you got JJ on your insurance as soon as you could.

You pulled into the parking lot, not bothering to lock your car as you ran inside.

“Where is JJ Maybank?” You asked the nurse at the front desk.

“Are you family?” The nurse asked, cocking an eyebrow at you as she looked up from whatever paperwork she was doing.

“No, I’ve just decided to come to the hospital at the ass crack of dawn to see a stranger.” You were pissed that she would even ask the question, you thought the urgency of your question was evidence enough that you were here to see family. “Yes, yes he’s my little brother.”

“Y/n.” John B said, stepping out into the waiting room. He looked worried and it only made you panic more.

“Oh, John B, thank God. Tell this woman I’m JJ’s sister.”

“She’s good, she’s good.” John B told the nurse as he ushered you back to where JJ was. “Kie’s here, too.”

When you got to the bariatric chamber room you couldn’t believe your eyes. Your brother sat up and sent you a small smile and wave, like he knew he would be in trouble when he got out. Now that you were certain your brother was okay, you were mad. You turned to John B with your arms crossed.

“You are gonna tell me what the hell happened in explicit detail. Do you understand me, John B?” You said, jabbing your finger into John B’s chest.

“Okay, well this old guy approached us to find this like really old amulet on Blackbeard’s ship off of the coast of Goat Island-” John B started, but you cut him off before he could continue.

“Blackbeard’s ship? The one that’s eighty feet below the surface? The one that’s protected by the Coast Guard?” You could feel yourself getting more angry as John B continued explaining how JJ ended up in the hospital.

“Well, yes, but anyways, we got the coordinates of the ship and we went out there last night and JJ and Kie decided to dive to find the amulet. But, when they got down there someone else showed up and-and attacked them-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“A guy attacked them and they couldn’t stop at their safe spot for three minutes and they came up too quick and they sort of got the bends.”

“I told you to stop the treasure hunting. I told you it was dangerous, John B. You’ve finally been able to settle down and start a business and now you’re back throwing yourself into danger! I mean what on God’s green Earth could have possessed you to take this job?”

“That’s the other thing…JJ kind of bet our last gold nugget on himself at the Enduro, which we were gonna use to pay our property taxes, but since he lost, we kind of have no money to pay our property taxes.”

“Why…why did you not just come ask me for help? I mean I would’ve given you the money. How much is it?”

“Thirteen thousand…”

“Are you fucking kidding me, John B? I spend more than that in a weekend in Paris! Why did you not just come to me?”

“Because, we want to do this on your own. This is our chance to show everyone how serious we are.”

“And you’re willing to put your lives on the line for that? God, do you people ever think? Did you even get the amulet?”

“Yes, yes, we did.” John B said, a smile starting to spread across his face.

“Good, because as soon as Kie and JJ get out of here you are taking that fucking thing to the old man on Goat Island and getting your money. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

“Text me when they’re out.” You muttered, taking one last look at your brother and Kie before leaving.

♡♡♡

You sat in your office, finally reading that contract Mark sent over.

“Yeah, this is great Mark, I’ll sign everything as soon as we get off the phone.” You said into your phone. “Mark, I really don’t want to talk about us right now.”

“Ms. Thornton.” Lily announced herself, walking into your office.

“I gotta go.” You sighed, hanging up your phone. “What’s up?”

“Um, Mr. Cameron is here, he’s pretty insistent that he sees you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You said, looking at your phone.

“I’m taking the deal with Hollis.” Rafe announced as soon as the door shut behind him.

“What? Why?” You asked, putting your phone down.

“I talked to Sofia-”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled cutting him off. “So now you’re taking business advice from her? Tell me where did she get her business degree? Oh, wait, that’s right she doesn’t have one.”

“She just said she thought it would be a good idea, a good opportunity.”

“Did she also say it was great chance to make friends and collaborate with your peers?” You said, the sarcasm dripping off your voice.

“God, what is your problem?”

“What’s my problem? I’m looking out for you Rafe! A random woman, who we haven’t seen in years, suddenly comes up to us and offers this ‘amazing’ business opportunity, demanding two hundred thousand dollars, with no business plans, no contracts, she wants everything done under the table. And you think it’s a good idea all of a sudden because your girlfriend told you so? Why are you even here telling me this?”

“Because…”

Rafe knew why he was here. He wanted you to talk him out of it. He wanted you to tell him that you needed him for the offer the two of you were gonna put on Goat Island. God, he just wanted to hear that you needed him.

“You can’t even tell me why you’re here. You know what, do whatever you want Rafe, I’m going through with the offer, with or without you.”

Your words broke Rafe a little. You had needed Rafe for so long, you each thrived off one another’s presence, he knew it and you knew it. But, now that you didn’t need him anymore, that you could live without him in your life, it broke his heart just the littlest bit.

But, the truth was you did need him, you wanted him, but you couldn’t admit that yourself, much less to Rafe.

“Oh, and, Rafe, if you tell Hollis, or even suggest to her that I’m putting an offer on Goat Island, you will never see me or hear from me again.”

It was an empty threat, you knew and Rafe knew that if he told Hollis, you would march right up to him and tear him a new one. Because, like Rafe said, fighting was your love language.

♡♡♡

“Hey.” You said to Sarah with a smile as you walked into Poguelandia. “I got your text, is everything okay?”

“Do you know what this is?” Sarah asked, handing you a piece of paper. “Some guy just handed it to us and we have no idea what it means.”

You took one look at the paper and saw zone change.

“Well you royally pissed someone off, and you’re gonna need a lot more than thirteen thousand dollars.” You explained, tossing the paper down on the counter. “I can try talking to my grandfather, but everyone knows Topper’s his favorite. I can’t make any promises, especially since I would be asking for a favor for pogues.”

“Wow, thanks.” Sarah muttered.

“You know that’s not what I meant. He’s gonna see what the zone is for and that it has to do with The Cut. I’m just saying I can’t make any promises.”

“Thank you, y/n, truly.”

♡♡♡

You paced around your living room as you fought on the phone with your grandfather, Judge Thornton, about this stupid zoning thing. Everyone was out of the house, so it was just you.

“I gotta go.” You muttered when you heard someone knock on the front door. You hung up the phone and opened the door. “What are you doing here, Rafe?”

He was obviously drunk, he could barely stand up straight.

“Ugh, you smell like the bar.” You grimaced, looking over him.

“I-I came to talk to you.” He slurred, leaning one arm against the doorframe as the rest of his body slumped over.

“You need coffee.” You said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, leading him inside. You shut the door behind you and made your way to the kitchen, sitting Rafe down in a chair at the counter. “Please tell me you didn’t drive here.”

“I didn’t. Sofia did.” Rafe hiccuped, leaning his head down on the counter.

“Sofia drove you here? Willingly?” Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you started brewing the cup of coffee for Rafe.

“Yup.” He responded, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

“Drink this and then I’m taking you back to your house.” You handed Rafe the cup of coffee and he just stared at it.

“I don’t want to go there.” He muttered.

“Rafe, you can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“B-because, you know why. It’ll just make things more confusing than they already are.”

“But that’s what you like though. Confusing, irritating, complicated things. That’s why things didn’t work between you and that Mark guy, right? He was too nice?”

“H-how do you know about Mark?” You asked, your face faltering.

“Please, your mom’s the biggest loud mouth once you get a few drinks in her.”

“You fed my mom alcohol to find out information about my personal life?” Your voice sounded annoyed, but really you found it almost comforting that Rafe was still so interested in you that he went through your mom to find out even the smallest details about your life when you were away for school.

“It didn’t take much, Laura really is a lightweight.” He chuckled. “At first she would talk about how she thought you and I would get married one day and that when we broke up a piece of her died that day. You know, it really was nice of you not to tell her the full story.”

“I didn’t want you thrown in jail for the rest of your life, Rafe.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“I knew it. I knew a piece of you still cared about me.”

“Of course I still care about you Rafe, God, I’ve known you practically my entire life and you thought I was just gonna stop caring about you?”

“Then why didn’t you reach out to me? Why didn’t you come home once?”

“Because Rafe I needed time away from you, away from these people, away from this place. I needed to find out who I was before I felt like I could come back.”

“Did you? Did you find out who you were?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. Someone who doesn’t need you anymore.”

You watched as Rafe stood and moved in front of you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you, practically trapping you in place.

“Are you sure?” His voice was barely above a whisper. He was so close to you, you thought you were going to lose every bit of sanity and strength you had left.

“Absolutely positive.” Your voice came out a bit shakier than you would’ve liked but you were just glad you could get the words out.

“You don’t want this at all?”

You closed your eyes for a second before coming to your senses. Rafe was right about one thing: you did like the confusion, the irritation, the complications of it all. He always knew you like that, he knew you too well.

You put your hands on Rafe’s chest, hesitating for a second, before you lightly pushed him away from you.

“No bad decisions, remember?” You said quietly, recalling your own words from that night two years ago when the two of you kissed for the first time, the first time you showered together, the first time he saw you naked.

“Yet, somehow, whenever I’m around you, I only make bad decisions.” Rafe said quietly, staring at your lips.

“Come on, we need to get you to bed.” You grabbed Rafe’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs, turning the light off in the kitchen in the process.

“So I can stay here tonight?” Rafe’s voice sounded hopeful as he let you pull him up the stairs.

“Only because I don’t feel like having to get you over to your house. Trust me, I would much rather just hand you off to Sofia, but I’ve decided to be nice tonight.”

“Fuck that bitch.” Rafe muttered, looking at the ground.

“Nope, those are mean words and we don’t talk about women like that.” You corrected him.

When you reached your room, you could see Sofia standing on Rafe’s balcony through your window.

“Shit.” You whispered, stopping for a second. “Get down.” You pulled Rafe to the ground with you, squatting just outside your bedroom door.

“What? What?” He asked in a panicked whisper, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Just wait here.” You whispered before you crawled into your room. You closed your curtains painfully slow, trying to not get Sofia to notice that you were closing them, because you figured if she saw you close them then that you meant you had something to hide. And, truly, you did. You were about to let Rafe Cameron sleep in your bed, with you.

You stood up slowly and made your way out to your balcony.

“Oh, hey.” You said to Sofia with a small smile, feigning surprise.

“Hey.” She responded, before sighing. “Is Rafe still over there?”

“Oh, yeah, he kinda passed out in my living room.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Sorry, I kind of dropped him on you. He was insistent that he saw you. Like, he wouldn’t get out of the car unless I let him go over to your house. I tried to tell him that you didn’t want to be bothered.”

“It’s fine, I’ve dealt with my fair share of drunk people passed out in my living room.”

“Was he…Was he like this with you?”

“Well, not really. He did kill someone six months into our relationship, so different circumstances.”

“Is that the reason why you broke up? Because he killed Peterkin?”

“It-it was a big factor, yeah.”

“Well, I should head inside, get some sleep.” She said, before turning around.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s just been dealt a bad set of cards.” You told Sofia, sending her a small smile, before heading back into your own room.

“Is it safe?” Rafe whispered peaking his head into your room from the hallway.

“Yes, it’s safe.” You sighed, turning on your closet light so there was at least some light in the room. “Sit.” You pointed Rafe towards the bed and went back into your closet, trying to find a shirt for him. You pulled the shirt from the first night you slept in his room out and threw it on the bed.

“You still have this?” Rafe smiled as he picked up the shirt.

“Well, I was planning on burning it, but I just never quite got around to it.” You said from the closet as you searched for a pair of Rafe’s old sweatpants that you knew you had in here somewhere. When you finally found them, you turned the light off in the closet and went back into your room, where you found Rafe struggling to unbutton his shirt. You smacked his hands away and started unbuttoning his shirt for him. “It always was my favorite, though.” You muttered, before taking his shirt off and tossing it onto your desk chair.

“At least take me to dinner first, Thornton.” Rafe joked, and you tried hard to hide your smile.

You helped Rafe pull the shirt on over his head and Rafe kicked off his shoes. “Up.” You helped Rafe stand up off the bed. “Think you can handle your belt?”

“I want you to do it.” He said quietly, looking down at you. You closed your eyes and sighed before making quick work of his belt, adding it to the desk chair pile.

“You know she cares about you, a lot.” You muttered as Rafe took off his pants and pulled on the sweats you found.

“Who?”

“You know who I’m talking about.” You said, walking back into your closet to find yourself something to wear. You changed quickly and went back into your room.

“Do you like her?” Rafe asked, sitting back down on your bed.

“Does it matter?” You stood next your bed, taking your jewelry off and throwing it into a little bowl on your bedside table.

“Do you like her?” Rafe repeated, grabbing your waist to force you to look at him.

“No.” You answered honestly, looking down at Rafe.

“Why?” His grip on your waist tightened a little bit.

“You know why, Rafe.” Your voice was the one barely above a whisper now. You knew why you didn’t like Sofia. It had nothing to do with her as a person, Rafe knew that. It had everything to do with the fact that she was who he called ‘baby’ now. That she was the person who slept in his bed at night, not you.

“I want you to say it.” Rafe pulled you in between his legs and your hands went his shoulders. “Say those three little words and I’m all yours.”

“Rafe…” You said quietly, looking down at him. You wanted nothing more than to say those three words, to tell him that you loved him. “Go to sleep.”

You stepped back away from Rafe and he dropped his hands from your waist.

“We agreed, no bad decisions.” You muttered, pulling back the covers for Rafe.

“No, no you said we wouldn’t make any bad decisions.” Rafe said, moving to lay down in the bed and you pulled the covers over him.

“Exactly, we agreed.” You walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed in, keeping your distance from Rafe. Rafe watched you carefully, never taking his eyes off of you. “Go to sleep, you creep.” You joked, pushing his face away from you.

“But, it’s so cold and lonely over here.” Rafe whined. He always did get so needy when he was drunk and tired.

“Fine, but you can hold my hand and that’s it.” You huffed, lacing your fingers through his. Rafe took this opportunity to pull you closer to him, so close you were practically lying on top of him. “Rafe.” You warned, but you weren’t moving away from him.

“We’re just holding hands.”

“I’m lying on top of you.” You said flatly, looking up at him.

“Yeah, and I can tell you aren’t wearing a bra.” He smirked.

“Go to sleep, you perv.” You muttered into Rafe’s chest.

You forgot how comforting Rafe’s hold on you was, lulling you to sleep quickly.

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fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago

Text

Just a Dog Walker

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grad student!dog walker!fem!reader

Summary: As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.

Warnings: dog attack, dog bite (r), fluffy ending. (Kojo is totally fine!)

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: More Kojo, what the world really needs.

“Sergeant Bradford, come to my office for a minute?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers quickly. “Uh, sorry. No, sir, I can’t.”

Crossing his arms, Wade inquires, “Why not?”

A low huff is audible in Tim’s office, but Wade knows it isn’t him.

“Is yo’ dog under that desk?”

“No.”

“Let me amend the question. Is Kojo under the desk?”

Kojo barks happily, trying to push past Tim to visit Wade. Wade shakes his head, dropping his arms.

“Why is he here?”

“I’m working a double and I couldn’t leave him at home. What if he had run out of water or needed to go out?” Tim answers.

“You know, here in sunny Los Angeles, there are more people than I can count who are certified dog sitters.”

“Kojo doesn’t like strangers.”

“Just Kojo? Look, Tim, I get it, the bond between a man and his dog. But, there has to be a boundary, a separation somewhere. I’ll call Luna, she’s got friends with dogs and trusted, bonded employees who watch their dogs. Walk ‘em daily, train ‘em, do everything while you’re at work.”

“I can take care of my dog by myself.”

“Not while you’re at work, Bradford. He can stay for now, Lord knows he’s a better boy than you, but by the end of the week I want to know you’ve got someone to care for him.”

Tim grumbles, pushing his hands under the desk to pet Kojo. “I’ll take you up on Luna’s friends then.”

“She’ll call later.”

“You already asked her?”

“’Course I did. We have work to do. And, so you know, we can see Kojo’s paws under the desk. But nice try.”

“I tried, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo, passing him a treat from the container hidden in his desk drawer.

✯✯✯✯✯

Grad school is expensive, but since you don’t have the degree level you are striving for, you need a different job to get you through. Pushing 30 and being a dog walker isn’t ideal, but it’s paying the bills. One of your neighbors helped you open a business with proper insurance and licensing to care for the dogs of Los Angeles.

Most of your clients live nearby, and you do your rounds twice daily, studying and attending classes between. One of your favorite clients has a friend named Luna, who you love. She gets you jobs, helps you out constantly, and is like a mother figure to you. You are forever grateful for her. So, when she calls, you rush to answer.

“Hey, Luna!” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you doing? Still working on your dissertation; making progress?”

“Slow but steady, yeah. What can I do for you?”

“This is actually something I can do for you. There’s a sergeant that works with Wade; he’s got a dog and needs someone trusted to take care of his dog while he’s at work. He’s been sneaking Kojo into the station and Wade had to ask him to stop.”

“Kojo? That’s an adorable name. But, yeah, I’d be happy to meet him.”

“Awesome! His name’s Tim. I will send him your number and have Wade force him to set something up.”

“Is Tim a little rough around the edges, typical cop type?”

“Not typical, no… Just- you’ll see when you meet him. He’s great, though, deep down.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Luna.”

“See you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

You sit back, writing the name ‘Tim’ on your dog-walking calendar. Another client would be great for your wallet, but it seems like this sergeant will take some convincing before he hires you. This is understandable, of course, because you wouldn’t let just anyone take care of your babies, and dogs are just four-legged babies.

“Please be as great as Luna said,” you whisper before returning your attention to the research before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah, I texted her. We’re meeting at an outdoor café tonight,” Tim says before Wade can ask. “But if I don’t like her or if Kojo doesn’t like her, I’m going to keep looking.”

“Got it,” Wade answers. “But you’ve got more double shifts in your future, so don’t take too long trying to find a ‘perfect’ dog walker.”

Tim nods, hoping he can find a way out of letting a stranger into his house to take care of his dog. He checked your name, and your business seems legitimate, but there’s no way of knowing. Luckily, he and Kojo are both excellent judges of character.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luna sent you a picture of Kojo, and you spot him immediately. The man sitting beside him, though, is breathtakingly handsome. You’re shocked that he doesn’t have female neighbors and friends lining up at his door, offering to take care of Kojo (and him).

“Hi, Mr. Bradford?” you ask.

Kojo looks up at you and pants, his tail slapping against Tim’s leg.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” Tim replies, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand, you glance down at Kojo. When Tim releases his grip, you squat and extend your hand for Kojo to sniff. He flips your hand up with his snout, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sure Luna told you that I’m a cop,” Tim continues, drawing your attention away from Kojo.

You sit beside him, lowering a hand to pat Kojo’s head. “She did, sir.”

“Then you know that if anything were to happen to my house during or after your visit, I could very easily charge you with any number of crimes. And I won’t tell you what I would do if something happened to Kojo while under your care.”

You can’t tell if his threat is legitimate, so you nod in understanding.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Kojo’s safety, and your home, of course, are of the utmost importance and I will do everything I can to do right by both of you.”

Tim nods, watching Kojo for a moment. “You’re good with him. He’s not always so welcoming with strangers; scared one of my girlfriends away once. So, I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Amazing. Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“What do we need to do to get started?”

“I can offer you a few days free, as a trial run. And if you still want to keep me on afterward, we can discuss payment, sir.”

“That’s unnecessary. I need someone to take care of Kojo and you seem to be the best fit.”

“Okay. Then I will email you a link to create a client account and my website has a portal to pay. Luna mentioned that you work overnight sometimes, so if you needed me to do later or earlier visits, I can do that too, sir.”

“Sounds good.”

Tim stands, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering his hand again.

“Nice to meet you and I look forward to your email.”

“You, too. And thank you.”

Petting Kojo once more, you smile before walking away. You didn’t expect him to be so attractive, so you have to remember that he clarified you’re his dogwalker, and he doesn’t even really want a dogwalker.

Determined to make him see the benefits of someone caring for Kojo, you add him to your schedule before he even pays you. Money is no longer a concern; you’re already in love with Kojo, and now, you need to focus on not falling for his owner, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’d you think about her? I know you hired her, but what’d you think personally?” Luna asks, standing in Wade’s office.

Tim shrugs. “She’s very polite. Seems driven, hard-working, responsible.”

“Well, now that you’ve read her resumé, have anything else to add?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Wade guesses, “She makes you nervous?”

“A little.”

“What?” Luna exclaims. “She’s the sweetest!”

“Not like that, Luna,” Wade interjects. “Someone wasn’t expecting a pretty dog walker.”

“Oh. Tim Bradford, I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

“She is taking care of Kojo. Yes, she is beautiful, but this won’t go any farther than a business agreement.”

“Care to bet on that?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers before leaving and closing the door behind him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Kojo, Kojo,” you call, entering Tim’s house with the key he had made for you.

Kojo’s nails click on the flooring, rushing to greet you.

“Hey, buddy. You miss your dad? I bet you do.”

As you slide Kojo’s harness over his front legs, he licks your face, and you laugh, scratching his chest before standing to connect his leash. Kojo has quickly become your favorite dog. You visit several throughout the day, but Kojo is the sweetest and the most handsome.

When you return to Tim’s side door, it’s standing open. You know that you closed and locked it, so you pull Kojo’s leash tight, stepping back as you prepare to run.

“It’s just me!” Tim yells from inside. “Sorry, my hands were full, and I couldn’t close the door.”

Sighing in relief, you lead Kojo inside, closing the door behind you and locking it instinctually.

“Honey, we’re home!” you call.

Tim freezes in the kitchen at your teasing, borderline flirtatious tone. You remove Kojo’s leash and harness and put it away, following him as he runs toward Tim.

“Why are you home so early?” you ask.

“I worked all night,” Tim answers. “Thought you’d feel my absence through our connection.”

You chuckle at Tim’s flirting. After the second meeting, it became much easier to talk to him. Interestingly enough, Tim started the flirtatious tendencies. You tend to stick to business-related topics, but sometimes it feels like you’re just two friends – maybe more – and you forget you’re just his dog walker.

“Everything go okay at work, sir? Kojo, for one, had a great day.”

Tim says your name, a sigh more than anything. “I told you a week ago to stop calling me sir.”

“Sorry, sir- Tim.”

Tim looks away suddenly, turning his attention to the bags he carried inside while you were walking Kojo.

“Did you even wonder where Kojo was?” you ask.

“No. I know his dog walker is punctual… and a control freak.”

“Planning my day doesn’t make me a control freak!”

“You have it planned to the minute.”

“To accommodate you,” you grumble.

“Yet you won’t let me take you on a date.”

“You won’t ask.”

You fall silent, and when you think you took it too far, Kojo barks and makes you both laugh. Talking to Tim is easy, but no matter how much you love Kojo or think you could be more, you must keep everything in perspective. Tim is older, a police sergeant, and you are his college student dog walker.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone and rubbing your eyes as you look away from the computer screen.

“Hey,” Tim says. “I’m so sorry for the late notice but I’m going to be here overnight. Could you-“

“I’ll go over now.”

“Listen, it’s crazy out there right now. If you want to stay there, please do. I don’t want you out more than you have to be.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. It’s not just for your safety; I’ll feel better knowing that you’re somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” you reply. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m insisting. Kojo is a cuddler, but that’s all you have to fear there.”

“Oh, you should have started with that. Kojo cuddles sound amazing.”

“Long day?”

“Not as long as yours. I’ll text you when I get there. Thank you, Tim.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“See you then.”

The drive to Tim’s house is short, but you hear several police sirens. Whatever they’re dealing with does seem (as Tim put it) crazy. Once you’re inside and the alarm is reset, you collapse on the couch and let Kojo cuddle up to you. You feel weirdly close to Tim, too, probably from being in his house. Falling asleep here is easy; you’re at peace, happy, and cuddled by a warm, loving dog.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up is not quite as peaceful. Tim is taking a picture, and when you grunt, he lowers the phone and smiles.

“That’s adorable,” he states.

“I’m quitting,” you murmur, throwing an arm over Kojo.

“You know, he didn’t even come see me when I got home? He’s a cheater, although I can’t blame him. It does look pretty comfortable.”

Ignoring him, you move closer to Kojo.

“Consider this my two hours’ notice.”

Tim chuckles, and the couch dips by your feet as he sits. When you sit up, he’s leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your way so you can rest. Need me to come back later?”

“No, I’m here all day. If you want to stay, you can.”

“I have a paper to finish,” you lament. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” You’re gathering your things when Tim reiterates, “Seriously. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s cloudy in Los Angeles, like a bad omen. So, you’re seriously considering taking Tim’s previous offer of staying at his house to work. Kojo is the last dog you visit, and you look down at him as he sniffs the base of a streetlight.

“Mind if I stay with you for the rest of the day?” you ask him.

Kojo’s tail wags faster, but he’s still more interested in the light than you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kojo picks his head up, continuing toward the corner as you lead him down the sidewalk. You see something move up the road and command Kojo to stop. Unsure if it’s a dog or some other animal, you wait a moment before walking again.

With your attention on the unknown shadow before you, you fail to hear a dog running up behind you. Kojo turns suddenly, and you don’t register what’s happening as you push him out of the way.

Another dog, about Kojo’s size, with no leash or owner in sight, is on top of you. Kojo is barking, trying to help, but you yell at him to stay back.

“Kojo, sit!” you yell over the other dog’s growling.

Your yell turns to a cry of pain when the dog’s jaw clamps down on your arm, his claws digging into your side.

“Get off!” you yell, your adrenaline giving you the strength to push back.

Once you’re sitting up, you use your legs to free yourself from the dog’s grip. Kojo is behind you, unharmed, and you need to keep it that way. Flipping yourself on top of the dog, it releases your arm before moving its legs wildly, raking a paw across your face as it tries to move away.

“Go!” you yell harshly, moving enough to let it up.

Stomping your foot after it, you show the dog you’re in charge and wait in front of Kojo until it’s out of sight.

“Kojo, we have to go,” you say quickly, grabbing his leash and limping behind him as he leads you home.

Kojo focuses on getting you inside, and when you close the door and fall to the floor, he moves to your side. He whimpers, and you want to comfort him, but you are growing dizzy.

“You okay, boy?” you mumble.

You scream in pain when you raise your hand to check that Kojo is okay. After dropping your arm, your breathing grows shallow as tears stream down your face. Kojo whines again, and you want to reach for your phone, but your arms feel too heavy to move. Looking down, you suddenly realize the severity of what happened. Covered in blood and with no strength to call for help, you whisper an apology to Kojo and let your eyes drift close.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs as he turns onto his street. He’s ready to see Kojo and, if he’s lucky, you. When Tim sees your car in the driveway, he smiles and rushes toward the door. That happiness quickly disappears when he notices the trail of blood leading up the driveway. Walking to the sidewalk, he sees that it leads nearly to the corner. Racing to the backdoor, which has a large blood smear below a clear handprint, Tim keeps a hand on his gun as he unlocks the door.

Kojo’s whimpering greets Tim, and when he looks down, he sees that Kojo has blood on him. Kojo looks over quickly, and Tim follows his movement. Whatever fear he felt when he saw the blood on Kojo is multiplied when he sees you.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tim calls for an ambulance before kneeling beside you.

“Is Kojo okay?” you ask weakly.

“He’s okay,” Tim promises, leaning closer in a poor attempt to find the source of your blood. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Did you check on Kojo? He seemed okay but I couldn’t make sure the blood was mine.”

Tim turns, running his hands all over Kojo. The blood is only on his fur, evidently not his.

“He’s fine,” Tim repeats, his voice breaking at the end. “You are not.”

“There was a dog free running and I- I didn’t see it. Kojo stayed behind me so I need him to be okay.”

Tears are running down your face again, mixing with the blood. Tim wants to wipe them away, but the clear claw mark over your cheek deters him.

“There’s an ambulance on the way, you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Just stay awake.”

“Kojo- Kojo’s a good boy,” you mumble.

“He is. Can you please keep your eyes on me? The ambulance is almost here.”

You nod, and the last thing you remember is Tim’s apologetic look and a painful pressure on your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim, are you coming with?” Bailey asks.

Tim stares at the bloodstain on his floor and up his wall rather than looking toward her. “I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll keep you updated. She’ll be okay.”

Tim nods and waits for the EMTs to exit the house before he begins cleaning. He scrubs until every trace of your blood is erased from inside and on the door. After animal control captured the dog, several officers went out to find the dog's owner. Nolan promised to come by and clean the driveway, so Tim concentrated his efforts inside.

“Alright, Kojo, our turn,” Tim calls, letting Kojo into the bathroom to remove the blood from his fur.

After Tim cleans Kojo and himself and throws away the blood-stained rags and cleaning supplies, he gathers his things to visit you in the hospital.

“I’ll be back with our girl,” Tim promises Kojo as he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m sorry.” You can’t stop the apology when Tim walks in.

“Stop apologizing. You kept that dog away from Kojo and I don’t- I can’t lose you. I walked in and you were covered in blood… I should have told you before that I care about you.”

“It’s my job to take care of Kojo,” you whisper.

Tim moves to the side of the bed, gently taking your hand. “You are not just a dog walker. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. The fact that you love Kojo solidified it for me.”

“I- I have feelings for you too,” you admit.

“They told me your pretty face won’t scar.”

“I barely even remember what happened.”

Tim sits beside your legs as he tells you, “Nolan and Celina arrested the dog’s owner. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.”

“Given a poor, unsuspecting college student thirty stitches while she’s just trying to spend the afternoon in her crush’s house? Oddly specific crime. What’s the code for that?”

Tim chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “You can go home now. If you’re still up to spend some time in your crush’s house.”

“Tim-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I want to, need to.”

“I would love to spend time with you and Kojo. But I’m not sure I’m up for flirting today, handsome.”

“After the day you’ve had, just sit back and I’ll do all the flirting.”

“’Preciate that, sir.”

Tim laughs as he exits the room to complete your discharge paperwork. You smile behind him, hoping you’re not dreaming, and you finally told him how you feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo,” Tim chides. “Give her some room.”

“You cleaned all the blood?”

Tim gently directs your eyes to him, leaning close to remind you, “You’re more than just a dog walker. Worth the time, the effort, the love, all of it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah. Kojo really loves you.”

You laugh, quickly remembering that you have several stitches on your side.

“Careful,” Tim requests.

“Are you certified to help someone sit still while stitches hold their side closed?” you ask.

“Depends on the patient. You? Absolutely.”

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch before walking to the kitchen to gather some water and snacks. When he returns, Kojo is cuddled up to your uninjured side.

“Really? Again?” Tim asks.

“I love you,” you say, completely distracting Tim as he kneels before you. “But I also think I really want to quit this time.”

Tim laughs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “That’s fine. I am looking for a girlfriend rather than a dog walker now anyway.”

“Care to see my resumé?”

“Memorized it last time.”

#tim bradford x reader #kojo bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader #tw dog attack #tw dog bite #kojo bradford. cutie pie extraordinaire.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 months ago

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 10: Nobody Likes You, Everyone Left You]

A/N: I sincerely apologize for the delay, but Maggie Sundays are back, besties!!! And we have a new poll! Be sure to check it out AFTER you finish Chapter 10 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title and chapter title are lyrics from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Here’s how it happens.

Let’s say you’re on a subway, or at a bus stop, or walking in or out of a grocery store, maybe fumbling with your purse or corralling small children, or talking on the phone, or wondering how you’re going to make rent, or trying not to drop one of your shopping bags, and out of nowhere some stranger lurches over and grabs you. They are filthy and noxious and moaning, and you assume they are insane, or on hard drugs, or maybe both. Your fellow upstanding citizens rush to your aid and the assailant is apprehended and carted off, unbeknownst to you surely to infect many more blithely unaware victims.

Maybe you notice that you were bitten, even just barely, even just a scrape of the teeth hard enough to scratch the skin; maybe you don’t. If you do notice and you seek medical attention, the best a doctor will offer you is disinfectant and antibiotics, maybe a rabies shot if they’re extra ambitions. Perhaps you have too much on your plate already without a detour to the doctor’s office (or perhaps you don’t have medical insurance), and you opt for at-home remedies, a vigorous scrub with hydrogen peroxide and a large rectangular Band-Aid slapped on top. Of course, none of this will do you any good. It was over the moment a drop of zombie saliva slipped painlessly into your bloodstream and began to replicate there like an invasive species, like an insurgent force. It only takes once.

You go home, and maybe when you start to feel really bad you call an ambulance and go to the hospital, and when you turn you bite anyone you can get your claws on there. Maybe you die at home and then attack your partner, your children, your parents, your roommates; maybe this new version of yourself ends up chewing bits of gristle off the bones of your dog or cat or ferret. And if any of your victims manage to escape once you’ve gotten a taste of them—no matter how fleetingly, no matter how trivially—they are sure to die in agony and reanimate too, and to pass along this plague you’ve gifted them, the bloodiest game of telephone.

Now millions are getting sick, fevers, headaches, purging, bleeding, but where do people go when they need a doctor? The hospitals are overrun, the clinics are swarmed, and doctors and nurses are falling ill too. There are unimaginable reports of the carnage. There is censorship to smother the panic. There are public figures vanishing from sight. There are zombies-in-progress boarding planes, checking into hotels, tottering onto cruise ships with armfuls of luggage, sweating through their bedsheets in crowded military barracks, silently ticking timebombs as the world as everyone knows it hurtles towards its end.

You would be amazed what people can refuse to believe. Once you believe something, that makes it real.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are no shovels, so Cregan tills the earth with his axe and then you dig with your hands. There are no headstones, so Rhaena finds a large sand-colored rock and writes on it with a jagged piece of slate: Baela and Briar, Summer 2024. Then she hesitates, the slate hovering in afternoon air, amber sunlight and eighty degrees, dust thick in the wind. She wants to say more. There needs to be more. How can two lives end with five words? At last Rhaena adds: Mother and child who perished en route to California. They were loved. They mattered.

“That’s good, Rhaena,” Luke tells her, voice gentle, hands on her shoulders. She stares at the grave for a while, and you don’t have time to waste; the bear could return, there might be wolves or mountain lions, eventually the sun will set and you will be stranded in an infinite darkness like the ocean at night. But Aemond waits until Rhaena is ready. She tucks the shard of shale into her backpack, and then you are fleeing once again: from this day, from this world.

You hike back to I-80 and walk west towards the next ranch. All of you are here in south-central Wyoming, and yet none of you are: you are in the earth with Baela, you are back in Nebraska where Jace died, you are in Ohio where he was swept away by a river, you are in Pennsylvania where you and Rio climbed down from a transmission tower, you are in your lives before the world ended: Saratoga Springs, Boston, cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean, a part of Kentucky called the Wildlands. Aegon is limping along on his own and shoving Rio away each time he tries to pick him up.

“Stop,” Aegon says, wincing and exhausted, his bandages coated with dust.

“Come on, Honey Bun. You’re going to rip your foot open—”

“Stop it!” Aegon demands. “I’m not going to slow you down anymore! I’m not going to be a burden!”

There is a sound you don’t immediately recognize: a rumbling, a squealing. A car is pulling up alongside you. Instinctively, you unholster one of your M9s and raise it as you turn.

“No, no, no, we’re cool!” a woman says, showing you both of her hands. She is around fifty and driving a Subaru Outback; there is a man in the passenger’s seat, perhaps her husband, and two wide-eyed, hoodie-swathed teenagers in the backseat. “Are you…are you guys okay?”

All of you stare blankly at her: shellshocked, distraught, covered in dirt and blood. “Yeah,” Daeron says eventually.

The woman peers around, east, west. “Do you have a car or something?”

“We have a Tahoe,” Cregan says. “It’s out of gas.”

“We have a few cans in the trunk,” the Subaru woman replies. “I can give you one, five gallons. That will get you to Rock Springs, and you should be able to find more supplies there. We came through that way, it wasn’t too bad.” And then, before anybody can ask if she’s serious, the woman steps out of the car and opens the hatchback. She lifts out a red can and hands it to Rio, who is standing the closest.

“Thank you, lady,” he says, astonished.

“I’m sorry about that,” you tell the woman, meaning the fact that you were prepared to shoot her.

Rhaena adds: “We’ve had some…bad experiences.”

The Subaru woman smiles. “Haven’t we all. Where are you headed?”

“West Coast,” Aemond answers quickly: vague, guarded, inviting no further disclosures.

She nods; she can’t trust you, and you can’t trust her, and everyone agrees, an unspoken acknowledgement of what the world is like now. “Well, you don’t want to go anywhere near Salt Lake City.”

“But that’s the only direct route,” Aegon says, crestfallen.

“I know.” The Subaru woman is sympathetic. “And it’s going to burn a hell of a lot of gas and time to drive all the way around, but you have to. There are tens of thousands of zombies, and a lot of people are trapped there without fuel. I’m telling you, if someone sees you driving by in a working vehicle, they’ll try to put a bullet in your head so they can take it. So don’t give them the opportunity.”

“Okay,” Aegon says glumly, already pulling his map out of the pocket of his khaki shorts to plot a new course.

“Stay far away from Chicago,” Rio offers the Subaru woman in return. “And any nuclear power plants.”

“We’re headed south,” she says, then grins. “I’ve got a sister in eastern Tennessee. We’re going to learn how to fish and cook moonshine and make clothes out of deer hide, and live up in the mountains where nobody will ever bother us.”

People glance at you, the resident Appalachian; and you remember the crackling of woodstoves, flecks of ice in the creek, kicking up snow as you ran through the woods, following tracks of deer and opossums and raccoons. “It’s a beautiful place. I think you’ll like it.”

Rhaena asks the Subaru woman: “Is there anything we can do for you? To thank you for the gas?”

“Oh, I couldn’t take from a bunch of bloodied people who are stranded on the side of the interstate.” But her eyes catch on the pistol in your hand and stay there, envious, longing. You have another, so you give it to her.

“The safety is on. There are only nine bullets left, unfortunately.”

“That’s nine more than I had before,” the Subaru woman says as she takes the U.S. Navy’s standard-issue Beretta. Then she says to everyone: “Good luck.”

“Same to you, ma’am,” Cregan replies. The Subaru woman gets back into her car and disappears eastbound with her family. The nine of you that are left—ten, if you count Ice—trek back to the Tahoe, where Rio pours five gallons of combustible liquid gold into the gas tank.

Rhaena climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. The rust-red Tahoe growls to life, the engine idling. Then she rests her arms on the steering wheel and breaks down sobbing. In the passenger’s seat, Aegon looks up from his map—which he is annotating with a glittery green gel pen—to gaze at her with shining, wounded eyes. After some hesitation, he extends a hand to hold one of hers. From the seat behind Rhaena, Luke is rubbing her shoulders and murmuring words you can’t hear.

Aemond says softly: “Rhaena, you can take some time if you need it.”

“No,�� she insists, her voice quivering but determined. “We can’t wait. We have to get as far as we can before dark.” She shifts the Tahoe into drive, guides it onto I-80, and speeds west towards Rock Springs and the Utah border.

Rio is saying something to you, but at first you can’t grasp it. Helaena is scratching Ice’s ears as the massive grey wolfdog lies sprawled across her lap. Daeron is sniffling and wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his orange t-shirt. Cregan is talking to Aemond about needing to find an auto shop so he can get supplies to change the Tahoe’s oil and filter. One of Aegon’s mixtapes whirls in the CD player:

“My face above the water

My feet can’t touch the ground, touch the ground

And it feels like I can see the sands on the horizon

Every time you are not around…”

You are watching Aemond, your heartbeat growing loud in your ears. He won’t look at you at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun begins to set, you find a vacant house on the outskirts of Coalville, Utah overlooking the Echo Reservoir. You wash away the remnants of Wyoming in the cool blue water, dried blood and caked-on dirt, hopes eclipsed by horror. Dinner is soup spooned out of cans from the pantry—Dinty Moore beef stew, Campbell’s condensed chicken noodle—and caffeine-free sodas, Sprite and Fanta and Seagram’s Ginger Ale. Then Rhaena and Luke go straight to bed, and Helaena scuttles through the house with a flashlight to search for clothes, making each person a separate pile on the dining room table: large flannel shirts for Cregan, pastel-colored polos for Aegon. Aemond and Cregan are outside on the front porch, Daeron is carving sticks into arrows on the kitchen floor, Aegon has been passed out in one of the children’s bedrooms since Aemond debrided his burns again and dosed him with the last of the Vicodin. Fortunately, Helaena found a translucent orange prescription bottle of Tramadol in the upstairs bathroom, so Aegon won’t have to suffer too much tomorrow.

Rio tosses and turns on the living room couch. You know what’s wrong, but you have to wait for him to say it. You stay with him, kneeling on the beige carpet in the murky artificial luminance of Rio’s Moonbeam flashlight, threading your fingertips through his dark curls. And then at last Rio asks something that you know must have crossed his mind a thousand times since you left Saratoga Springs, but he’s never voiced aloud: “What if Sophie and the baby are dead?”

“They’re not.”

“But you don’t know, nobody knows—”

“Bryan, they’re not dead,” you say, and he is listening.

“I joined the Navy for Sophie.” And of course, you’ve heard this before. “I was just a stupid kid who couldn’t commit to anything, not work, not school, not a future with her, so she dumped me. And I decided I was going to get her back by proving I could make commitments after all. I could sign my life away for five years, and come out of it as someone who would be a good husband and father. And now…what if by enlisting and being so far away when everything happened, I abandoned her? What if…what if she’s gone, and she died terrified and in pain and alone, and I’m the reason why?”

“Sophie and the baby are waiting for you in Odessa. You have to believe that until we get there.”

“Because if they’re not, my life is over?” he asks bitterly, this man you have never known to be wrathful, defeated, weak, hopeless. But these are beasts that live inside all of us, waiting to be shaken awake by the perfect string of calamities.

“I believe they’re still alive.”

And Rio looks at you, wanting desperately to be convinced. “Why?”

You’ve never believed that you are someone who knows the right things to say; but you have to try. “If your parents’ community in Odessa is like you’ve always described it to me, I can’t think of a better place for someone to hide from all the disorder and the violence. It’s remote, but there’s support from other families who are living the same way. People have gardens, cows, goats, pigs, chickens, enough canned food to live on for years, homemade clothes and systems to collect rainwater. There are women who’ve had five homebirths and men who’ve built houses with their own hands. And the people in Odessa have guns and know how to use them. I think when you told Sophie to go there, you saved her life. And now she and the baby are both waiting for you to come home.”

“We’ve crossed this country by raiding dead people’s homes.”

“Yes. And we’ve seen plenty of living ones too.”

Rio takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling; and now he is calmer. “Okay,” he says, grabbing your hand where it rests on his head and smacking a noisy kiss onto your knuckles. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I think I’m done freaking out for tonight.”

“You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Try to sleep.”

Obediently, Rio closes his eyes, and within five minutes he’s snoring.

You rise and open the door to the front porch, thinking of what you’re going to tell Aemond when he is low, distracted, wary: You did everything you could, Aemond. It’s not your fault. It’s this world, it’s poison, it’s cursed, and you can’t turn back the clock to when it wasn’t. You’re just one man. But you can try to save the people who are left.

Yet Aemond does not speak to you, doesn’t even notice you; when you peek outside you are on his blind side, and he is deep in conversation with Cregan as they keep watch in the moonlight.

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too, man,” Cregan is saying. “A mansion by the ocean sounds nice and all, don’t get me wrong, but that ain’t me. I don’t see myself somewhere like that forever. Hell, I’ve never even seen the ocean, and to be honest I never really cared to. But a community of folks who are living off the land out in the woods? Those are my kind of people, that’s a place I could be useful…”

You retreat back inside the house, flashlights and shadows, doubts and fears. You stand there in the quiet for a while, then go to Aegon’s bedroom, where he is awake now and snuggling with Ice in a child’s bed shaped like a red racecar, listening to his pink Sony Walkman—Ava, the gleaming rhinestones proclaim—through one earbud.

Aegon coos as he ruffles the dog’s shaggy grey coat: “You’re so sweet, Blue Raspberry Icee. You were always my favorite flavor. Do you miss 7-Elevens too? Wrinkled old hot dogs and taquitos on rollers, drenching tortilla chips with the nacho cheese and chili dispenser? Did you guys even have 7-Elevens in Iowa? No offense, but your home state kind of sucks. It’s just fields and barns and whatever. You would have loved Boston. You could have fetched my golf balls when they rolled into ponds.”

Then he sings along to the song he’s listening to, effortlessly melodic but so softly you can barely hear him:

“You really had me going, wishing on a star

But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far

I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn…”

Aegon spots you in the doorway. He smiles, then turns serious when he gets a good look at your face. “You okay, Mint Chocolate Chip?”

He feels like the only person you can say this to. You confess in a weak, hoarse whisper: “I hate this world.”

Aegon offers you the other earbud. “Then let’s go somewhere else.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on,” you say to Rhaena as Rio and Luke rummage around inside the Shell gas station for food, drinks, batteries, medicine. You know they’re fine; you’ve already cleared the store, and you can hear them in there laughing. Rio is telling Luke about the bizarre Thanksgiving dinner you once had in Chinhae, South Korea: duck instead of turkey, fried rice with pears and squash instead of stuffing, candied sweet potatoes for dessert, a choir of solemn schoolchildren brought in to sing—for reasons you will never understand—Africa by Toto. You take your remaining M9 out of its holster. “Target practice.”

“Really?” Rhaena asks excitedly. She volunteered to stay back at the little blue mobile home with Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena—only a mile away—but you knew she needed a distraction. Truthfully, you do too. Aemond is in the Tahoe somewhere searching for gas with Cregan, a strange new alliance. He still hasn’t really spoken to you. You are trying to give him what he needs, but you don’t understand what that is.

It took all of yesterday to navigate around Salt Lake City, stopping every few hours to scrounge for gas, gallons siphoned piecemeal from cars, trucks, motorcycles, boats on trailers, four-wheelers left forgotten in garages and backyards. It was after nightfall when you rolled into Battle Mountain, Nevada, a gold mining town in what is known as the Cowboy Corridor, beginning at West Wendover just over the Utah border and ending in Reno. Today supplies must be replenished; tomorrow I-80 will take you to Winnemucca, where U.S. Route 95 branches off north towards Oregon while remaining on I-80 leads southwest through the Sierra Nevada Mountains and into the Bay Area of California. A decision needs to be made, which means Aemond will have to talk to you tonight. You’re relieved. You don’t want to have to be nervous and watchful with him, studying every inflection of his voice, reading some dire premonition in each line that creases his face. You’ve spent enough of your life that way already.

Battle Mountain is cloudless and hot and sandy, dry shrubs and gnarled mesquite trees, flat secretless earth. Staggering towards the Shell are three zombies, all dressed in faded blue uniforms like a mechanic’s or a miner’s. You hand Rhaena your M9.

“How many bullets do you have left?” she says, still a bit giddy.

“Fifteen. And you can have five of them.”

She raises the pistol and closes one eye. “I’m going to miss.”

“Well you’re not going to hit anything if you don’t turn off the safety.”

Rhaena giggles. “Oh, right. Whoops.” She clicks the tiny lever, then takes aim again.

“Line up your sights. Front looks like an I, back looks like a U. Put the I in the center of the U, and keep looking at that front sight. That’s where your bullet is going. Don’t blink when you fire. Don’t be scared of the recoil, that’s not your problem, your priority is getting the shot. Your arms are a little stiff…yeah, perfect, nice and limber. The recoil won’t hurt so much that way. Don’t try to fight it, just accept that it’s going to happen. If you’re all tensed up because you’re anxious about the recoil, it’ll throw off your aim, so forget about it.”

“Okay,” Rhaena says. “I am actively attempting to forget.”

“Remember, try not to blink.”

“Don’t tense up. Don’t blink.” A few seconds pass, and she pulls the trigger. There is a spray of dark curdled blood from one of the zombie’s collarbone, but it’s still stumbling towards the Shell. “Damn,” Rhaena says defeatedly, then tries to pass the M9 back to you.

“What are you doing? You have four more shots.”

“But I’m going to miss. I’m going to waste them.”

“Practice isn’t wasteful. You have to know how to do this in case something happens to me.”

“You do it,” Rhaena insists. “I’m terrible.”

“Is it alright if I help you?”

“Yeah,” she says, her doe-like eyes brightening. “Okay. Totally.”

“Go ahead and aim.”

She raises the pistol and peers through the sights. You stand behind Rhaena, place your hands lightly over hers, adjust her angle just barely. When she fires—she’s still tensing up just before she pulls the trigger, a common mistake—you hold the M9 steady. The bullet explodes through the same zombie’s rot-soft skull and the corpse tumbles facedown into the dust.

Rhaena gasps, exhilarated, triumphant.

“No celebrating yet. There are two more.”

“Right.” Very businesslike, she lines up the next shot. You provide your slight adjustments; a second zombie receives a lethal dose of lead.

“Want to do the last one on your own?” The third zombie is quite close now, maybe ten yards. It should be an easy kill.

“Okay…but if I miss, you have to save me.”

“Obviously.”

All on her own, Rhaena aims and pulls the trigger. She hits the zombie near the top of its head; an inch higher, and it would be functionally unharmed. But the corpse’s skull snaps back and its blood and brains spill out onto the asphalt of the parking lot, and it is of no further danger to anyone. It is carrion for the scavengers: raccoons, foxes, condors, vultures, crows.

“And with one of your allocated bullets to spare,” you say with a smile, accepting the M9 when Rhaena surrenders it. “Good progress.”

“That felt great,” she admits, perhaps a little dazed.

You know what she means. “It’s nice to have some control over what happens in your life.”

Luke is saying to Rio as they reappear from inside the Shell: “Maybe those Korean children were singing Africa because they knew your unit had been in Djibouti. Maybe they thought you were homesick for it or something.”

“Oh my God, you know what, kid? You might be right. I never even thought of that.”

“Find anything?” you ask.

Rio shrugs, adjusting the straps of his backpack. “A few bags of trail mix, a box of Band-Aids, some Life Savers, cans of Arizona tea. Oh, and Marlboro Golds for Honey Bun.”

“You shouldn’t be encouraging Aegon to smoke. It’s bad for him.”

“Give him a break, he’s sad and crispy.”

You can’t think of a rebuttal. The four of you walk back to the mobile home.

In the small patch of parched dirt that serves as the driveway, Cregan is—with great difficulty—shimmying out from beneath the Tahoe. Then he reaches back under to grab a pan of old motor oil. “Just about done here,” he announces. “Gotta put the fresh oil in and then we’re set for another 5,000 miles.”

You glance around. Ice is panting in the narrow aisle of shade of a mesquite tree. Aegon is napping on the tiny front porch, sprawled on his back and snoring, his plastic neon green sunglasses shielding his eyes; Helaena is surrounded by a jumble of empty cans and stirring a pot of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs as she heats it over a fire. She begins dishing out bowlfuls of it. Rio, Rhaena, and Luke all graciously accept their dinner.

“Did you guys find gas?” you say to Cregan.

“Not much. A few gallons.”

“Where’s Aemond?”

“Said he’d be back soon.”

“What?” You are incredulous. “You left him? He can’t be alone out there, Cregan. Someone has to watch his blind side.”

“He ain’t alone. He took Daeron.”

“What’s Aemond looking for?”

“He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.” Now Cregan is pouring a bottle of Pennzoil into the Tahoe, and Rio is prodding you with a bowl of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs, and Aegon is waking up and yawning loudly.

“What’d you bring me?” he says, lazy and grinning; and when he receives his pack of Marlboro Golds, he immediately sticks one between his teeth and lights it. Luke goes to sit by a shrub and then jumps up when he hears a rattling noise. Almost too swiftly for you to process it, a streak of red-gold scales slithers across the earth and vanishes into the desert.

“Western diamondback rattlesnake,” Helaena notes. “Venomous. Potentially fatal.”

“Great,” Luke says, carrying his bowl towards the front door of the mobile home. “I think I’ll eat inside.”

Aemond and Daeron don’t return until shortly before dusk, the sky turning to rust, lavender, gold, fire, blood. When they walk in, Rhaena is curled up on the floral couch—shredded in spots by a cat, though there are no signs of it now—and reading Mockingjay. Luke is sitting with her and keeping watch with periodic peeks out the window. Ice is resting with her muzzle propped on her large front paws. You, Rio, Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon are playing Uno on the floor.

“What color?” Aegon asks Helaena when she puts down a wild card.

“Blue.”

He groans. “How do you always know what I don’t have?!”

“Rhaena,” Aemond says, and then tosses something to her that glints in the artificial, sickly yellow radiance of the flashlights. She catches them in midair: a set of keys. She is mystified.

“What are these for?”

“The Ford Expedition that’s parked outside.”

“What?!” Luke says, twisting around in his seat to snatch the curtain aside and peer through the window. “Oh wow. Yeah, it’s out there.”

Rhaena is staring confoundedly at Aemond. “Why do we need a Ford Expedition?”

“Because that’s what you’ll be driving tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with the Tahoe?”

“They will be driving the Tahoe to Oregon,” Aemond says, pointing to you, Rio, and Cregan. “We are taking Expedition to California.”

Everyone is too stunned to speak at first; even Daeron looks at Aemond doubtfully, as if this is the first time he’s learning of it. Aegon’s hand hovers frozen in the air above the draw pile of Uno cards. Ice whimpers.

Rio chuckles uncertainly. “You’re…you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Aemond says. “When we leave Battle Mountain tomorrow, you’ll take I-80 to Winnemucca. We’ll take Route 305 south to Austin and then head west so we can get off the interstate and avoid the Reno area.”

Your voice comes out dark and poisonous. You can feel your eyes glaring, searing; Aemond won’t look at you. “What are you talking about?”

“We can’t stay together?” Luke asks.

“No,” Aemond says again, and now he’s getting impatient. “We have two different destinations. That’s been the situation since the day we met, and now it’s time to split up.”

“Why can’t we all travel to one place and then the other?” Rhaena says. “We could drive to the Bay Area, see what’s going on at the beach house, and after—”

“I can’t wait,” Rio interrupts. “My wife and baby are in Oregon, I’m going straight there even if no one else is.” As distracted as you are, you touch your palm to one of his broad shoulders. You’re going too. You promised.

“So we’ll drive to Oregon first,” Aegon says agreeably. “Right? We could do that. Go north and then swing by the Bay Area later.”

Aemond shakes his head. “It’s almost impossible to find gas now. There is just enough in the Tahoe to last it until Winnemucca, and just enough in the Expedition to get it down to Austin. There is no guarantee we’ll be able to find more. Every day there’s less gas and food and bullets, because there are less places that haven’t already been looted. There are 400 miles between where we are right now and either Odessa or San Franscisco. There are another 400 miles that separate those two destinations from each other. So let’s say we drive all the way to Oregon and then can’t find any gas to go south to the Bay. How long do you think we’d last like this on foot? A month? Because that’s how long it would take us, assuming not a single rest day. So if we travel to one location together, there’s a good possibility we’ll all be trapped there.”

“Maybe I’m okay with getting trapped in Oregon,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond lashes out fiercely. “Are you serious? What about Criston, what about Mom?!”

“Maybe there are some things about home that I don’t miss!”

“Then go the fuck to Oregon!”

“You know I have to stay with you!”

Aemond scoffs. “Because you’re so capable of protecting anyone.”

Aegon rubs his sunburned face with both hands. He murmurs softly, miserably: “I’m trying, Aemond.”

“So that’s it?” Rhaena says, staring at you and Rio and Cregan, stunned and mournful. “We’ll just never see each other again?”

Aemond shrugs and averts his gaze. He doesn’t have an answer; maybe he doesn’t care.

Aegon turns to Cregan accusingly. “You helped plan this?”

“Nah,” Cregan says, avoidant and downcast, which is unusual for him. “I mean…I said I didn’t really see myself spending the rest of my life with a bunch of millionaires in a California mansion on the seashore, and that’s still true. I’d rather live in Oregon with people who are more like me. But that’s different than wanting to split up forever. I could always try to find y’all later for a visit, I guess…”

“Sure,” Aemond replies briskly. “Whatever you decide to do afterwards isn’t my problem. But you get them to Odessa first.”

Rhaena bursts out with sudden urgency: “This feels wrong. Don’t you see how this is wrong?! We’ve been through so much together, and now we’re just going to wave goodbye and disappear? Leave them to fend for themselves?”

“You want to add 400 miles to our trip?” Aemond asks her, and Rhaena falls silent.

“You know,” Luke begins. “We…we’ve already lost people. Maybe Aemond’s right. Maybe we’re forgetting how dangerous the world is now. It would be great if we could stay in contact, but the most important thing is to get everyone safely to where they need to be.”

“Exactly,” Aemond says, and something jolts awake in you as you remember what he told you in Nebraska, and in Wyoming, and in so many quiet moments that you’ve shared since you met, each an oasis in the desert. He said we would figure it out. He said he wasn’t going anywhere.

“So you were lying when you pretended not to know what we were going to do when we got to Nevada.”

Aemond nods towards the front door. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

You stand up; Rio watches you apprehensively, wondering if he should follow. Your eyes flick to his. I’m fine. He relents, redirecting his attention. Aegon is slumped and despondent; Helaena is starting to cry, and Cregan tries to console her. She’s saying that something bad is going to happen, but she doesn’t know what.

On the porch of the mobile home, beneath a lilac sky pierced with stars, Aemond does not attempt to hold your hands or kiss you goodbye or give any other indication that you have ever been someone who mattered to him. “This isn’t personal. This is what gives everyone the best chance of survival.”

“You’re afraid of making a mistake and getting hurt,” you tell him. “And I understand, I know what that feels like, but Aemond…with the way the world is now…you can’t afford to wait for things to happen or cut them loose to see if they’ll come back to you. You might not get another chance.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Aemond says flatly. “Your route is safer than ours. Less cities, less zombies.”

“You’re honestly going to act like you are completely unbothered by the thought of never seeing me again?”

“I don’t know what you expected. I’m just some guy who helped get you off a transmission tower back in Pennsylvania.”

“Really? That’s all you are?”

And then Aemond smirks to himself, a cynical, mocking twist of his lips, something so dismissive and so cruel you almost believe for a razor-thin second that you could hate him. “Look, I’m not the one for you. Go to Oregon. Fuck Cregan.”

“There is nothing romantic between me and Cregan!”

Now Aemond seems annoyed. “Well, you two seem exceptionally suited for each other.”

“Because we both grew up shopping at Dollar General and know what it’s like to have an alcoholic parent?! That makes us soulmates, that’s the end of the calculation?!”

“Then find a man like him!” Aemond flares. “That’s what you really wanted, right? That’s what you were after this whole time. Some hero to convince you he’s worth it. Someone to break you in.”

You are seething, thunderstruck. “And you just said that in the most hurtful way possible to…what, prove how little you care about me?”

“I didn’t say I don’t care about you.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“We were never going to end up in the same place.”

“Except we were, you told me that, you told me we’d figure something out, I mean, you…you…you said you’d be there if I wanted kids someday, what was that if not some kind of commitment?!”

“You don’t trust me,” Aemond says, so sharply and so abruptly it startles you.

“I do,” you object softly.

“No, you don’t. And I don’t blame you. But there’s nowhere for us to go from here.”

You can feel yourself becoming young and powerless and desperately afraid. “Please don’t do this, Aemond. It won’t bring Jace or Baela back. If we don’t have a plan before we split up, this is over. We’ll never find each other again. We’ll never have another chance.”

And he shakes his head like this was such a needless mistake. “I knew you’d fall in love with me.”

He’s leaving, you think, hazy and omnipotent like a nightmare, the present inseparable from the past and the future. I left my family and now my family is leaving me. “I’m not in love with you,” you reply as ruthlessly as you can. “I think you’re right. Cregan is a better man.”

“Yeah,” Aemond snaps.

“And I need someone like him.”

“Yeah,” Aemond says again, staring into the west where the last rays of the sun are sinking below the horizon, you erased as you stand where his left eye would once have seen you.

“And you need someone who’s going to fuck with your head so much you can’t possibly mistake it for something real.”

You walk back inside the mobile home and leave him speechless in the dying light.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I drew this for you,” Aegon says, handing Rio a folded piece of paper torn from Helaena’s spider notebook. It’s a map, illustrated in forest green gel pen ink. “Your route is actually really straightforward, it’s impossible to get lost. You’ll follow I-80 northwest to Winnemucca, then Route 95 north until it intersects with Route 140, and you stay on 140 all the way to Odessa. The only real city you’ll go near is Klamath Falls in Oregon, and I’ve marked that. Route 140 mostly stays along the outside, but you can cut it wider if things look dicey. The whole trip is just a couple days by car, assuming you don’t have to spend too long hunting for gas. But listen…” He points to the green dot labelled Winnemucca. “Between here and Denio Junction up by the Oregon border, there’s 100 miles of nothing, just desert. So make sure you have more than enough supplies to last you in case something happens. Then from Denio Junction to Adel is another 85 miles with no towns in between. So just…be careful, okay? You’re not back east anymore. Things are a lot farther apart, and it’s harder to find everything. If you run out of gas or bust a tire, you can’t just call AAA to come pick you up.”

“We got it,” Rio says, touched but trying not to dissolve into too much sentimentality. The three of you are standing in the short dirt driveway the next morning, Aegon putting most of his weight on his good leg. Cregan is waiting behind the wheel of the Chevy Tahoe that once belonged to his parents. Ice is peering out at you through one of the rolled-down windows. “Thank you, Honey Bun.”

“No problem. Now flip it over.”

Rio does; on the back of the first map is another, this one from Odessa south to the Bay Area, a place just north of San Francisco called Bolinas.

“Go all the way to the coast and follow it down,” Aegon says. “You don’t want to bump into Santa Rosa, Sacramento, Stockton, Modesto, San Jose, any of those places. Too many people.” Then he smiles, kind and warm. “I’m going to see you guys again, one way or the other. But first I have to make sure Aemond is safe. And Rio has to meet baby Otter.”

Rio laughs. “Man, don’t even joke about it. I’m seriously concerned that’s my firstborn’s name.”

“If you end up not staying in Odessa, leave me a note carved into a tree trunk or something so I can track you down.”

“You do the same at the beach mansion.”

“Totally.” Then Aegon turns to you; and although he’s still smiling, his eyes—those pools of murky, melancholy blue that remind you of the Gulf of Tadjoura, Corpus Christi Bay, the East China Sea, the Indian Ocean—are catastrophically sad. “Tortilla Chip, it’s been real. Don’t forget about me.”

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

He pats your backpack and winks, and you don’t understand why until ten hours later when you’re lying on the rooftop of an abandoned RV in Winnemucca, Nevada, gazing up at the stars as Rio and Cregan swap stories to weave affinity until it’s thick like a braid: Rio hiding a dead lemon shark in the Jeep of an officer he hated when you were stationed at Key West, Cregan’s fiancé leaving him after she got a field hockey scholarship to the University of Iowa. You haven’t found any gas for the Tahoe yet. You’ll have to search again tomorrow. You reach into your backpack for a pack of Life Savers and instead are surprised to discover Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman. The rhinestones spelling out a doomed little girl’s name glint in the moonlight.

You slip in both earbuds and press play. Aegon left it paused at an Enrique Iglesias song; you assume he must have been thinking of Rio.

“You look at me and, girl, you take me to another place

Got me feelin’ like I’m flyin’, like I’m out of space

Something ‘bout your body says, come and take me

Got me begging, got me hoping that the night don’t stop…”

You try to see constellations in the night sky instead of random, indifferent distant suns. You try not to remember the way Aemond was when you thought his mark on you was permanent.

“Girl, I like the way you move, come and show me what to do

You can tell me that you want me, girl, you got nothing to lose

I can’t wait no more

I can’t wait no more…”

You spot a glimmer of light among the stars and choose to believe it is a comet rather than a fighter jet, or a forgotten satellite, or the refracted remnants of a solar storm, or something you only imagined and that never existed at all.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n

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