#I need to sit and think about it for a bit I think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inseobts · 2 days ago

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Busted! (Secret Relationship) 2.0

what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?

characters: luffy, sabo, kid, shanks, bartolomeo

(zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace)

a/n: sorry about the barto one, I got out of ideas but needed a 5th character...

words count: around 0.8k - 1.5k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Luffy:

You sit at the far end of the Sunny’s deck, legs dangling over the side. The sea sparkles in the sun, and the wind plays with your hair. Luffy is across from you, lying on his back with his hat over his face.

You glance at him for the third time in one minute.

He lifts the hat just a bit “You’re staring again” he says with a grin.

“I’m not” you lie, too fast.

“You are.” Luffy sits up, stretching “Why?”

“Because you’re weird” you say, kicking the air with your feet.

Luffy laughs “That’s true! Can I kiss you?”

You smile, but quickly turn away when you hear footsteps. Sanji walks by with a tray of drinks. He looks at you, then at Luffy, then back at you. He squints.

“Something wrong with your face, Sanji?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He frowns “No. Just… never mind. Dinner is almost ready.” He walks off.

You glance at Luffy. He’s watching you now.

“Do you think he knows?” you whisper.

Luffy shrugs “Maybe. But who cares?”

“I care! We said we’d keep this a secret, remember? You’re our captain, they will think I get favouritism or something.”

He pouts “I show favoritism to every single one of them. None of you even call me Captain… Who else in the world is a captain but isn’t even called ‘Captain’ by his own crew? Just me! And I really want to tell them.”

“We can’t” you say, standing up “Not yet. It’ll be weird. They’ll tease us forever.”

Luffy tilts his head “So?”

“So… I like it like this. Just us.”

He grins again and nods “Okay, okay. Just us. I like this too.”

But then Usopp yells from the other side of the ship, “Luffy! Why were you smiling like that? Did you eat something without me?!”

Luffy shouts back, “No! Mind your business for once!”

You giggle.

He looks at you, serious for a second “They’re gonna find out.”

“You’re a terrible liar but if we’re careful we can at least have some more time.” you say.

But even as you say it, you know its just a matter of days before Luffy will “accidentally” expose you.

“DINNER IS READY!”

Everyone is gathered around the table, plates stacked high with meat, rice, and bread. Sanji’s outdone himself again. Luffy is already three plates in, sauce all over his face and hands.

You’re chewing on a piece of pizza when a bit of sauce drips onto your chin.

Without even thinking, Luffy leans across the table with a napkin he just stole from Nami and wipes it away gently.

“Messy” he mumbles smiling at you, like it’s normal.

Everyone freezes.

Nami slowly lowers her fork. Zoro raises an eyebrow. Usopp’s mouth falls open.

Sanji blinks “What the hell was that?”

Luffy freezes like a statue, still holding the napkin mid-air.

You feel your soul leave your body.

“Are you two…” Nami starts, squinting hard, “…dating?”

Luffy sits up fast, and stay still like he’s got caught in the middle of stealing all the food.

Then he suddenly snaps “Absolutely fucking not! Why would you even think that?!”

Silence.

You blink.

Zoro tilts his head “You sure? ‘Cause that was some weird-ass behavior.”

“Yeah, dude,” Usopp adds “You never wipe anyone’s face. You don’t even wipe your own face.”

Nami who is still shocked “Did… did he just say absolutely fucking not?”

Luffy looks like a deer caught in a very obvious lie.

Your eye twitches.

You sigh, lean back in your chair, and say, “Yes… yes. We’re dating. That lie was so bad I can’t even pretend anymore.”

Nami chokes on her drink. Brook lets out a dramatic gasp. Chopper claps his hooves together.

All while you whisper “Stupid me, I even thought the worst scenario was you finding out in the next few days.”

Luffy looks at you, then back at them “Wait—so we’re telling them now?”

“No, you! You told them by being the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

He scratches his head “Oops.”

“You literally said ‘absolutely fucking not’, not really in character from you, don't you think?”

He grins “I panicked…That made it more dramatic, right?”

Sanji stands up like he’s about to give a whole speech “When did this start? How long have you been hiding this from your family?”

You groan. Luffy laughs. Everyone starts shouting questions at once.

He leans over and nudges you with his elbow “Hey. At least it’s not a secret anymore. And they don't seem to mind it at all! You were so scared for nothing, look at them!”

You shove a piece of bread in his mouth “You owe me so many meat dinners.”

He just grins wider and keeps eating like nothing happened but with a grin that actually says everything happened.

── .✦ Sabo:

It’s quiet after dinner. The hum of HQ fades beneath the warm weight of Sabo’s arms around you. You’re curled up in his lap on the couch in his room, legs tangled, his coat draped over both of you like a blanket. He’s kissing you softly, lazily, like the world doesn’t need saving for just a few hours.

“You always smell like smoke” you whisper, nose brushing his.

Sabo chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek “And you smell like peace. So I guess we’re even.”

You smile, fingertips trailing the line of his jaw, just about to kiss him again when BANG. The door flies open.

Hack stands there. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Absolutely regretting everything.

“…Oh...” he says flatly.

You launch upright, nearly taking the coat with you.

“WAIT—!”

But Sabo, not missing a beat, still lazily cradling your waist, says in a perfectly deadpan voice “Close the door. We’re not done yet.”

Hack’s brain visibly short-circuits.

He backs out slowly like he’s seen the gates of hell.

“Yup. Nope. Didn’t see anything. I need bleach. Where’s the bleach.”

The door clicks shut.

Silence.

You collapse against Sabo, face buried in his chest.

He just laughs, fingers drawing gentle circles on your back.

“Hack’s probably going to meditate in a cold stream after this.”

The next morning Koala kicks open your cabin door “Rise and shine, lazyass—training starts in twen—”

She stops.

Empty bed. No note. No sign of life.

Her eye twitches.

Cut to: Sabo’s room. She barges in without knocking.

“What the hell, have you seen—oh my GOD!”

You’re in Sabo’s bed. In his shirt.

He’s sleepily spooning you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, chin nestled in your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Koala freezes.

You freeze.

Sabo doesn’t move a muscle. Just groans, nuzzles into you, and pulls you back down under the covers.

“…So that’s why you’re both always smiling at morning drills” Koala mutters.

You peek over Sabo’s shoulder, hair a mess, whispering “Hack didn’t lock the door.”

Koala just turns on her heel “Unbelievable. I’m calling Dragon. You two need supervised training from now on.”

You’re both trying so hard to keep it a secret even now.

Swearing up and down: No more getting caught. No more accidental cuddling in public. No more open doors. NO MORE SPOONING IN SABO'S SHIRT WHILE KOALA SCREAMS.

And yet...

After a brutal training session, you’re the last two stragglers left on the field. The sun's setting, sweat gleaming on both of you, breath still heavy from sparring.

Sabo tosses his gloves aside, runs a hand through his messy, damp hair, and looks at you like you're made of starlight and rebellion.

He steps closer.

You’re flushed, smiling, practically glowing from the adrenaline.

He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.

"Nobody’s here," he murmurs, a little breathless “Just one kiss.”

You’re this close. This close. Lips nearly touching—BOOM.

Ivankov struts around the corner like they owns the damn place, fanning dramatically.

“OH honey, if you’re gonna get sweaty together, at least invite me to watch!”

You and Sabo JUMP apart like you’ve been electrocuted.

Sabo coughs violently and turns beet red while you trip over your own foot trying to act like you were doing literally anything else.

Ivankov is grinning like the cat who caught the canoodling lovebirds “You two are about as subtle as a sea king in a bathtub.”

Ivankov winks and keeps walking like nothing happened.

Sabo is frozen. You’re wheezing from secondhand embarrassment.

“…We suck at this.” you mutter.

Sabo just covers his face and groans, “I’m never going to hear the end of all this.”

By now, literally everyone has caught you and Sabo in some weirdly intimate moment, except for one man, Monkey D. Dragon. And that’s how the betting pool was born.

It started with Koala dropping 50 berries on “He finds them mid-make-out in the strategy room.”

Hack went in on “One of them slips up and calls the other ‘babe’ during a mission brief.”

Even Ivankov scribbled down “Sabo gets distracted by Y/N’s ass mid-battle. Dragon walks up behind him.”

There’s a whiteboard hidden in the break room with all their bets.

In all this you and Sabo are sitting on a bench overlooking the cliffside near HQ, pretending to "review maps". The sun is golden, the breeze is soft, and Sabo’s hand is definitely resting a little too high on your thigh for this to be strictly cartographic.

Sabo chuckles, tilting his head toward the training grounds “Koala’s been pointing at us through binoculars for the last ten minutes.”

You glance over and she waves. So does Ivankov, who is literally holding a notepad that says “DRAGON CATCHES THEM: THURSDAY AT 14:37”.

You groan, burying your face in Sabo’s shoulder “This is humiliating.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair “We could just tell him and so they'll stop.”

You both pause.

Then simultaneously say, “Nope.”

The next day, it’s supposed to be a standard mission call. Everyone’s focused, the mission is critical, and everything is tense.

Suddenly, in the middle of all the seriousness, something goes wrong. You’re trying to navigate a tricky situation on the field, and you have to quickly adjust your position, which means you shift out of the line of communication for a second.

Sabo watches, trying to get your attention, then blurts out, completely unintentionally “Careful, babe.”

The whole call goes silent. The Den Den Mushi crackles with static, and suddenly, everyone on the call freezes.

Dragon (deadpan, calm as ever) “...What did you just say, Sabo?”

You immediately go white and you whip around to look at Sabo with wide eyes, panic setting in. You can hear Ivankov’s voice in the background, already laughing.

You “SABO, ARE YOU DUMB?!”

Sabo turns a brilliant shade of red "I—I didn’t mean—"

Everyone on the call is absolutely losing it.

Koala, trying to hold back laughter “Oh my God. Did you—did you just call them babe?!”

Hack, in the most deadpan voice ever “I won, right? I absolutely won this bet.”

You’re trying to keep your cool, but you can’t. You can’t. You cover your face, groaning.

Dragon, ever the calm voice in the storm, but with a clear edge of irritation “Next time, keep the personal affections off the mission calls. You're lucky this wasn’t an urgent situation. We almost got compromised.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You glance at Sabo, who looks like he’s about to combust.

You, exasperated “Sabo, f***, you made me get scolded! This is so embarrassing!”

Sabo, still trying to apologize “I—I didn’t mean it like that! It was just a slip—”

But the damage is already done.

Dragon, his voice slightly dry “We’ll talk about this later. Focus on the mission. And next time—be more professional.”

As the call ends, the atmosphere is tense. You and Sabo are left standing there, feeling like two complete idiots.

Later that day, the break room is chaos. Hack is smugly holding up his winnings from the betting pool. Koala is still laughing, and Ivankov is offering “support” by teasing Sabo non-stop.

You, on the other hand, are doing your best to avoid eye contact with everyone as Sabo sulks in the corner.

You, barely holding it together “I hate you right now. I really do.”

Sabo “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you’re still an idiot.”

Sabo rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “…I deserve that.”

── .✦ Kid:

You don’t really think much of it the first time.

A small, clumsily wrapped package left outside your room on the Victoria Punk. The paper’s crinkled like it was balled up five times before someone gave up and tied it with rough twine.

Inside a shiny little trinket you’d mentioned wanting in passing weeks ago.

You raise a brow but say nothing. Maybe someone’s just being nice.

Then it happens again. And again.

Each gift is messy but thoughtful, like someone’s trying to be sweet. A handmade weapon accessory here. Your favorite snacks there. One day, a scrawled note reads, “Don’t let anyone else have this. It’s for you only” not signed.

The crew notices. Of course they do.

Heat starts humming “Someone’s got a secret admirer~.”

Wire goes like “Who even knew you liked that kind of thing?”

Killer, raising a brow behind his mask “...It’s weirdly specific, though. Whoever it is knows you pretty well.”

You try to play it off, but the teasing doesn’t stop. It only gets louder. More obnoxious.

Kid, arms crossed, leaning against the railing “Tch. Who cares? Buncha idiots drooling over gifts like teenagers.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He's unbothered. Disinterested. Completely unfazed.

That night, when the ship’s quiet and everyone’s turned in, you knock on his door. He opens it in a loose tank top and sleep-rumpled hair, eyes narrowing.

“What.”

You cross your arms “Are the gifts from you?”

He blinks “What?”

“The stuff. The notes. The snacks. You’re the only one who listens that closely.”

A flicker of something passes through his expression, too fast to catch. But then his scowl deepens.

“You think I’ve got time to play secret admirer with you? Hell no.”

You stare at him, caught off guard.

“…You’re serious?”

He scoffs and turns away “Go to sleep. You’re imagining things.”

He slams the door behind him. You’re left in the hall, heart twisting a little. Because he sounded so convincing.

But if it’s not him… Then who the hell is it?

After that night with Kid, you really do try to let it go. But the crew doesn’t.

You can't walk into the mess hall without someone raising an eyebrow or tossing a comment.

Wire leans back in his chair one morning, boots on the table, biting into an apple with a grin “Hey, Y/N, no new packages today? What a tragedy. Guess your mystery lover finally ran out of ideas.”

Heat chuckles, elbowing him “Or maybe they’re just planning something bigger. Like a grand confession. What do you think, huh? Gonna be roses next time?”

You, dryly “Right. I’ll expect fireworks off the port side.”

Killer, voice calm but laced with amusement from beneath the mask “Honestly, I’m more impressed by the consistency. Whoever it is, they’re either very devoted… or very stupid.”

Kid, across the room, is pretending not to hear, arms crossed, eyes on something that doesn't exist. His jaw’s clenched so tight, you can see it from here.

You catch his eye for a second but he looks away fastly.

The next morning, nothing shows up. Then the next. And the next.

You don’t say anything about it. Neither does Kid. But something’s different in the air now, like tension caught in a bottle, just waiting to explode.

One night, you’re lying tangled up together, the hum of the ship quiet around you. He’s half asleep, heavy arm slung across your waist, his hand lazily tracing circles on your skin.

Your head is on his chest, warm and steady.

“…I haven’t gotten any new gifts lately” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

He stiffens just slightly, but doesn’t say a word.

You chew on your lip “Think they found out about us? Maybe they backed off.”

Still nothing.

You lift your head and look at him “You ever think about who it might’ve been? Kinda funny, right? Maybe someone on the crew really had a thing for me.”

Still no response.

You grin a little “What if it was Killer? You think he’s the poetic type? Am I his type?”

Before you can say another word—whump.

A pillow slams into your face, hard enough to make you roll.

“HEY!” you shout, laughing “You absolute brat!”

Kid doesn’t even look guilty.

“You’re annoying” he mutters, but there’s a faint blush rising to his ears. He turns his head, scowling at the ceiling like it insulted him personally.

You smirk, poking him in the side “Ohh, someone’s touchy…”

“I’m throwing you off the bed.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“Wanna bet?”

Weeks pass.

Everyone moves on. The secret admirer jokes fade. Kid goes back to normal, grumpy, snarky, yours. You figure that weird little mystery chapter is just done.

Until one day, you find a new gift.

Not one of its usual ones, no haphazard twine, no angry handwriting. This one’s clean, careful. Wrapped in deep red paper with a ribbon tied perfectly.

Inside: a carved charm. Elegant. Personal.

The note says “Couldn’t help myself. Thought you’d like this.”

Your heart actually skips a beat.

You march straight to the engine bay, holding it up like evidence. Kid’s elbow-deep in mechanical guts, oil smeared on his hands.

“Hey,” you call “Now... is this from you?”

He glances up, sees the box, and freezes “What the fuck is that?”

“A gift. Someone left it for me. Just now.”

The silence is nuclear.

Then his voice explodes “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

He storms past you like a cannonball with legs, throwing open the engine bay doors and stomping onto the deck.

“ALRIGHT,” he bellows, voice booming across the ship, “WHOEVER THE HELL THINKS THEY CAN FLIRT WITH MY GIRL—COME SAY IT TO MY FACE!”

Everyone stops what they’re doing.

A wrench drops. Someone chokes on their food. Killer just sighs.

“YOU HEARD ME!” Kid’s pacing like a madman, hair wild, coat half falling off one shoulder “YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MY GIRL WITH PRETTY RIBBONS?! SHE’S MINE. MINE!”

You bury your face in your hands and whisper "Please stop, this is really embarassing."

Killer, calmly from the upper deck “Well. That answers that. We all knew the original gifts were from you, Eustass.”

Heat, grinning “Yeah, but I thought he’d last a little longer before breaking.”

Wire, yelling from the mess hall window “PAY UP! I SAID HE’D CRACK WHEN A REAL RIVAL SHOWED UP!”

You’re still standing in the middle of the storm, holding the new gift while your hot-headed boyfriend is screaming at the ocean.

You, deadpan “Great. Now the whole Grand Line knows.”

Kid, turning to you like you betrayed him “WHY WERE YOU SMILING AT IT?!

“Because I thought it was from you again!”

“WELL, IT WASN’T. AND NOW I’M GONNA MURDER WHOEVER THAT WAS.”

The deck is still vibrating from Kid’s volume. He’s stomping around like a territorial lion, red in the face and shouting murder oaths into the wind.

“COME ON! WHO WAS IT?! WHO THINKS THEY’VE GOT A CHANCE?! I’LL BREAK YOUR TEETH IN.”

You’re standing there, clutching the new gift, wondering if you’ll have to tackle him to keep the crew alive.

But then Killer steps forward, calm as ever “Kid.”

Nothing.

Killer raises his voice slightly “Kid!”

That gets through. Kid slows, turns, still wild-eyed “What?! You want me to let someone just—?!”

Killer sighs like he’s been dealing with this since the womb “That gift wasn’t from a rival. It was from us all.”

The entire crew falls silent.

You blink “Wait—what?”

Killer glances at you, then back to Kid, arms crossed “We knew the first gifts were from you. We’ve known for a while.”

Kid opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again “You—WHAT?!”

Heat, leaning against the rail with a huge grin “C’mon. You thought we wouldn’t recognize your handwriting? You write like you’re trying to fight the paper.”

Wire, popping his head out from the doorway “And who else would wrap a gift in metal wire and call it ‘aesthetic’?"

Killer adds “We figured if we pushed you enough, you’d confess eventually. That final gift was just the nudge.”

Kid stares at them like they’ve grown two heads “So it was a trap?!”

Killer, with a shrug “It worked.”

Then Killer turns to you “What we didn’t know was that you two were already together.”

There’s a ripple of surprise through the crew.

Wire nods “Yeah! Let's go back to that because... like... what?”

Heat nods even more dramatically “Yeah! Since when?!”

You, dryly “A few months before the first gift showed up.”

Kid’s jaw tightens like he regrets every decision leading to this moment.

“You guys are the worst” he growls.

Heat, wheezing “We’re the worst?! You’ve been sneaking around and flirting through weapon mods!”

Wire, laughing “AND YOU STILL DENIED IT TO HER FACE?!”

Kid lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a scream and turns to you like you’re his last hope of escaping humiliation.

You just grin at him “C’mon, Captain. Let’s go before you combust.”

He’s still grumbling when you tug his arm and drag him below deck, muttering curses under his breath the whole way.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sea is quiet tonight.

The crew laughs near the campfire, their voices loud under the stars. You sit a little away from them, pretending to look at the moon. But really, you’re waiting. Waiting for him.

A warm hand touches your shoulder from behind.

“Miss me?” Shanks whispers, his voice soft like a wave brushing the shore.

You smile without turning “You’re late.”

“I had to talk to Benn. Captain stuff,” he says. Then he leans in close “But I’ve been thinking of you the whole time.”

You giggle, quiet “Liar.”

“I’m a pirate. What did you expect?”

Finally, you turn to him. Shanks is smiling that lazy smile you know too well. His red hair glows under the moonlight. His eyes? All on you.

“Don't look at me like that, someone might see it” you whisper, looking at the crew.

“They won’t,” he says “They’re drunk, loud, and too busy telling stories.”

You glance again. He’s right. No one is looking.

So you let him pull you behind the palm trees. The sand is warm under your feet, and the wind carries the scent of salt and firewood. He sits down and opens his arms.

“Come here.”

You crawl into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He wraps his one arm around your waist, holding you close.

“I missed you today” you say.

“I missed you too” he says. Then he kisses the top of your head “You know what keeps me going?”

“What?”

“This. Just this.”

You press your face into his chest “You’re soft for a pirate.”

He laughs, his chest shaking “Only with you.”

The night is quiet now. Just the waves and the sound of his heartbeat.

He whispers, “One day, when this secret doesn’t have to be a secret anymore… I’ll hold your hand in front of everyone. I’ll kiss you right on the deck.”

You look up at him “Promise?”

“I swear on the one piece.”

You laugh again, and he kisses your nose “That’s a big promise” you say.

“I never break my promises” he says.

And in that moment, under the stars and hidden from the world, you believe him.

It’s late now. The fire has burned low. The crew is asleep, scattered in hammocks or on the beach.

But you’re wide awake.

You stare at the door of his cabin. You know it’s risky. But your heart pulls you there anyway.

You knock once, soft.

The door opens almost instantly. He’s there, sleepy eyes and messy hair. Shirt half buttoned.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head “Can I… stay?”

He doesn’t answer with words. Just steps aside, lets you in, and closes the door behind you.

His room smells like sea salt, old paper, and something that’s just him. It’s small but warm. The bed takes up most of the space.

“You sure you want to risk it?” he teases, pulling the blankets back.

You nod, already crawling in “You’re warm. That’s worth the risk.”

He chuckles, switching off the lantern “Come here then.”

The bed creaks as he joins you. You curl into his chest. His arm wraps around you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

You whisper into the dark, “I love when it’s just us.”

“I know,” he says, resting his chin on your head “Me too.”

Silence for a moment. Just your breaths, your hearts. Together.

Then he says, quietly, “I always sleep better when you’re here.”

You grin, even though he can’t see it.

“You snore” you whisper.

“Lies.”

“Loudly.”

He laughs, low and soft “I’m a captain. I’m allowed.”

You snuggle closer, legs tangled, warmth everywhere. His hand finds yours under the blanket. Fingers laced, easy and natural.

“Stay every night,” he says, voice almost a mumble now “Even if they find out. Even if it’s chaos. I don’t care anymore.”

“You’ll care when Benn gives you that look” you say.

“I’ll survive it,” he says “I won’t survive not having you.”

You go quiet at that. Because sometimes, he says things that hit your heart like a wave.

“I won’t survive not having you either” you whisper.

He kisses your forehead. Gentle. Safe. Real.

In the morning, the sunlight slips through the cracks in the window, painting golden stripes across the bed.

You stretch, warm and safe, still tucked under Shanks’ arm. He’s already awake, watching you with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.

“Morning” he whispers, brushing hair from your face.

“Morning” you mumble back, voice still scratchy from sleep.

He leans down and kisses your cheek “You drooled a little.”

“Liar.”

“You did.”

You groan, roll over, and bury your face in his pillow “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t.

But you’re very late.

You were supposed to help Lucky Roux in the kitchen twenty minutes ago. But after all the cuddling and stealing kisses between brushing your teeth and Shanks being distracting (on purpose), you throw on the nearest shirt and rush out the door.

The morning air hits your face. The crew is already up, busy with chores, chatting, moving crates, laughing.

You walk fast, head down, trying not to look guilty. But then someone says behind you, “Hey…”

You freeze.

It’s Yasopp.

He squints, then tilts his head “That shirt looks kinda familiar…”

You look down. Big, red, half-buttoned pirate shirt. Smells faintly like rum and sea and... you.

It’s his shirt.

You force a smile “Oh, really? I, um… I just bought this yesterday in town! Crazy, right?”

Yasopp blinks “It’s just... Shanks has one just like that.”

You laugh. Too loud “That’s so funny! What a coincidence!”

He raises an eyebrow “Uh-huh.”

You start walking again “Okay, bye! Gotta go stir the stew!”

You practically run to the kitchen, slam the door behind you, and press your back to it, heart racing.

Lucky Roux looks up from chopping onions “You okay?”

“Fine! Everything’s fine! Great! Love onions!”

You spend the next hour hiding in the kitchen, trying to look very busy.

You’re scrubbing a spoon like it just insulted your whole family when you hear footsteps outside.

Then, his voice.

“Mmh…”

It’s Shanks.

You freeze.

“I swear I left it here somewhere…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

Lucky Roux looks up “Captain?”

Shanks scratches his head “My red shirt. The one with the loose buttons? I wanted to wash it but… maybe I already did? Or someone moved it?”

You choke on air.

Lucky Roux’s eyes widen.

You slowly turn, still holding the spoon, sweat forming on your back.

Yasopp walks in right then, and Lucky Roux points at you silently.

Yasopp follows the finger… sees the very red shirt you’re wearing… and his jaw drops.

“Oh… my… GOD.”

You raise your hands like you’re being arrested “I can explain—”

“No no no no, don’t you dare,” Yasopp says, pointing now “This is amazing. Since when?!”

Shanks, confused, looks between you and them “Wait… what’s happening?”

Your face burns “Shanks. This is your shirt.”

He blinks.

Looks at you.

Then at the shirt.

Then back.

“Oh.”

The silence lasts about two seconds.

Then the entire kitchen explodes.

“What the hell?!”

“You two?!”

“I KNEW IT!”

Lucky Roux claps like he just saw a proposal “This is the best day of my life.”

You groan and hide behind a cabinet door.

Shanks laughs, holding up his hands “Okay, okay, okay, you got us.”

Yasopp shouts, “Since when?”

Shanks grins and leans casually against the table “Mmh… A while. Since that one stop in Lougetown.”

“That was months ago!” someone yells.

You peek out, blushing “We were being careful!”

“You wore his shirt” Yasopp deadpans.

Shanks throws an arm around your shoulder “Guess we don’t have to be careful anymore.”

The crew starts chanting something dumb like “KISS KISS KISS!” and you groan again, but Shanks just laughs and plants a quick kiss on your temple, bold and smug.

“Oh you're actually loving all this” you whisper.

“A lot” he whispers back.

── .✦ Bartolomeo:

You didn’t mean to fall for Bartolomeo.

It kind of… just happened.

Between the screaming, the fangirling, the way he glared at anyone who looked at you too long. But somewhere between the nonsense, you found something real.

He loves big. Loud. Unfiltered. But when no one’s watching? He loves so quietly, you can barely believe it’s the same guy.

Right now, you're hiding in the hallway of the ship, tucked behind a stack of crates. Bartolomeo is sitting cross-legged, handing you a rice ball.

“I made it for you!” he says, puffing out his chest “I watched a tutorial. It’s heart-shaped!”

You look down. It’s… more like a lumpy circle, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect” you say.

His face turns red “Y/n…” He sways a little, hand over his heart “You’re too kind… I’m gonna DIE!”

You laugh and take a bite.

“Don’t die. You still owe me cuddles tonight.”

“RIGHT. YES. I shall live for the cuddles.”

The secret has stayed safe. So far.

Except today, you dock on an island with a bunch of rowdy pirates who definitely pick a fight before lunch.

You’re in the middle of battle, blocking with a staff, when one pirate gets too close and knocks you to the ground.

You’re fine. A little scratched. But Bartolomeo sees it happen. And then it happens.

He turns.

He screams.

“THAT’S MY BABYYYYYYYYY—!”

Everyone stops.

Even the wind pauses.

You slowly get up. Face blank.

He freezes.

His hand is mid-air, about to use his barrier powers. His eyes wide.

“…Did I just say that out loud?” he whispers.

The entire crew is staring.

Someone goes, “Wait. Your baby???”

You try to speak “Uh—he means—”

“I MEAN WHAT I SAID,” Bartolomeo yells again, fully panicking now “SHE’S MY BABY. MY LOVE. MY SWEET CHERRY BLOSSOM—”

“BARTO,” you hiss “Stop confessing in front of everyone!”

Too late.

He throws his hands up and suddenly there’s a giant heart-shaped barrier around you two. Sparkly. Pink. Absolutely not subtle.

He turns to you “At least we’re alone now.”

You facepalm “There’s a window, Barto.”

You hear cheering from outside.

“THEY’RE DATINGGGGG!”

“PAY UP, I TOLD YOU THEY WERE!”

“DOES LUFFY KNOW?!”

You sigh.

Bartolomeo wraps you in his arms, completely unbothered now “So… secret’s out.”

You look up at him “What gave it away? The screaming or the love bubble prison?”

“…Both?”

You can’t help it. You laugh. He kisses your forehead.

“I love you” he says.

“I love you too” you whisper, even if the entire world hears it now.

After that no one seems to actually care about the two of you.

Weeks later you and Bartolomeo are docked on a chill island when you run into the last people you expected: the Straw Hat Pirates.

Luffy spots you both instantly.

“YO, BARTO!!” he shouts, waving like a madman.

Bartolomeo screams, throws himself to the ground, and starts sobbing with joy.

“LUFFY-SENPAI! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! THANK YOU FOR BREATHING IN MY DIRECTION!!”

You’re behind him like “Okay, this is fine.”

You greet the rest of the crew like normal. Everyone’s smiling, happy to see you, no one suspects a thing.

You and Bartolomeo agreed before getting there: keep it private. You didn’t want anyone or worse, Luffy finding out. Bartolomeo is just way better when it's just the two of you.

That night, it happens.

“GAME NIGHT!” Usopp shouts “Winner gets free food!”

The crew splits into teams. You get pulled into a round of a random game and of course you end up against Luffy.

Everyone’s crowded around. People are yelling. Sanji’s handing out drinks. Robin and Nami are judging.

Luffy’s up first.

He draws a card and starts flapping his arms.

“Bird!” “Chicken!” “Flying fish!” “Zoro waking up late!”

He gets it.

Then it’s your turn.

You pull your card and immediately drop to the ground, trying to act out a seal (It’s harder than it looks).

People are guessing like crazy.

"Penguin!" "Sea cow?"

Luffy squints.

Bartolomeo, sitting quietly in the back with popcorn, clutches his cup.

He stares at you with so much intensity, it’s insane.

And then it happens... again.

You clap your hands and bounce a little, still acting out the seal.

He jumps to his feet.

“YES BABY! GO! DESTROY HIM!! YOU GOT THIS, MY LITTLE WAR MACHINE!!”

Silence.

Everyone stares.

You freeze mid-flap.

Luffy slowly turns “Wait… Baby?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Little war what?”

Nami drops her drink.

Chopper gasps so hard he hiccups.

Sanji says “Wait a damn minute...”

Bartolomeo realizes too late. Hands fly to his mouth.

You’re still stuck in seal position, blinking.

Robin, smiling softly “Well… that explains the way he looks at you.”

You turn to look at him, mad “Do you even try??”

Usopp yells, “YOU TWO?! YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

Bartolomeo’s face is red as a tomato “I… I didn’t mean to! She was just so cute pretending to be a seal...”

You slap your forehead.

Luffy, wide-eyed, just goes, “Whoa. You’re dating my number one fan. That’s crazy. He even choose to cheer for you.”

You sigh “Yeah. It is.”

And then he bursts out laughing “THAT’S SO COOL!”

The whole crew joins in, laughing, teasing, clapping Bartolomeo on the back. He’s half-proud, half-mortified, but he doesn’t stop smiling all night.

Later, when the chaos dies down, he wraps an arm around your waist and whispers, “Sorry, babe.”

You smirk “For cheering too loud?”

“For waiting this long to yell about how amazing you are.”

You roll your eyes “I liked the ‘my little war machine’ part.”

He gasps “Really?! I was just improvising!”

“Never do that again.”

“Okay but also… you were winning.”

884 notes · View notes

lynbels · 2 days ago

Note

25 jungwon pls pls pls

looks deceive - yjw (m)

#25: The quiet nerd turns out to be anything but shy, using your body like it’s his.

pairing: jungwon x reader - prompt req list

synopsis: You spent months teasing Jungwon for being the quiet nerd in class—until one night he finally snapped, and you learned exactly how wrong you were about him. ✉️ 3782wc

‼️tw: slight bullying, dubcon vibes, dominance, manhandling, degradation (light), oral (m receiving), rough sex, creampie, praise, possessiveness, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies guys)

💌: no because I totally imagine this happening good jungwon by day evil jungwon by night 😈

You weren’t a mean girl, not really. Just…a little playful. Maybe a little too playful when it came to the nerdy boy who sat in the back of your Chemistry class.

Yang Jungwon.

Blonde hair always perfectly parted, button-down shirts always ironed stiff, and those stupid little glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—he was practically begging for it. He didn’t even talk back when you and your friends joked about him. He just sat there, quietly scribbling formulas with that pretty hand of his, pretending not to hear the way you laughed.

“You think he’s a robot or something?” your friend Hana giggled one afternoon, chin propped on her hand as she watched Jungwon flip through his notes. “Bet he’s never even held a girl’s hand.”

You snickered behind your palm. “Held? I bet he’d pass out if a girl even looked at him for too long.”

It wasn’t personal. It was harmless, you told yourself. Jungwon was just…so easy to tease. Always so quiet, so polite, so desperately nerdy. He wore khaki pants for god’s sake. Khakis. In high school.

Sometimes you’d catch him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—soft, wide-eyed stares, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It only made it funnier. You’d smile sweetly at him on purpose, wave too enthusiastically, lean a little too close when asking him a question during group projects, just to watch his face flush scarlet and his glasses fog up.

The poor boy was so easy to break.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Your whole group kind of adopted it as a game at this point: how fast could you fluster Jungwon? How pink could you get his cheeks? How many stuttered responses could you collect like trophies?

“He’s like…a pet,” your other friend Minji whispered one time after a pop quiz. You had just tapped Jungwon’s shoulder and thanked him (loudly) for “helping you study”—which he hadn’t—and the boy had practically short-circuited on the spot. “Like a little lost puppy.”

You’d laughed then, flipping your hair over your shoulder, feeling every bit the queen bee you were supposed to be. Jungwon was safe. Harmless. He wasn’t like the cocky jocks or the bad boys you flirted with sometimes—he was soft, easy to control, easy to tease.

Or at least…that’s what you thought.

Until one afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting at your desk, lazily twirling a pen between your fingers, when you felt a shadow fall across your table. You looked up, blinking.

It was Jungwon.

He stood stiffly in front of you, clutching a neatly organized folder to his chest like a shield. His blonde hair was slightly messy today, a few strands falling across his forehead. His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and he pushed them up nervously with one finger.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Lost, Jungwon?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something—but then stopped, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. His hands fidgeted against the folder, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped it. You could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Cute.

“I, uh…” He coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses again. “I…thought you might need help. For the chemistry assignment. Since…you asked…before.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t actually asked him for help—you’d teased him about it, sure, but it was all in good fun. You were popular, and smart enough to get by without tutoring from the class nerd. But now, standing there in front of you, Jungwon looked so serious. So determined, despite how nervous he clearly was.

You could feel Minji and Hana watching from across the room, barely containing their laughter. You gave them a quick glance—watch this—before turning back to Jungwon with your most dazzling smile.

“That’s sweet, Jungwon,” you said, voice dripping honey. “You’re worried about me?”

He flushed deeper, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I just…you seemed like you might…um…need help.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. God, he was so easy.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you rested your chin in your hand and looked up at him through your lashes. “Are you offering to be my private tutor?”

His lips parted slightly, like the words got stuck in his throat. His glasses fogged a little again. “I—uh—I guess. If you want.”You smiled wider, loving the way his voice shook.

“Aw,” you cooed mockingly, loud enough for your friends to hear. “You’re so sweet, Jungwon. Are you always this nice to girls who bully you?”

Behind you, Hana snickered into her hand.

For a moment, Jungwon didn’t say anything. He just stood there, folder clutched tight to his chest, face burning. His eyes flickered to your mouth for a second—so quick you almost missed it—and then dropped to the floor again.

You tilted your head, smirking. So predictable.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you added, voice low enough that only he could hear it. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me coffee after tutoring too.”

He said nothing. Just nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and practically fled to the other side of the room.

You and your friends broke into giggles immediately.

“Poor thing’s gonna have a heart attack,” Minji whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Y/N, you’re evil.”

You smiled lazily, twirling your pen again. It was just harmless fun. Jungwon would never do anything about it. He was too shy, too sweet.

He’d stay quiet. Like he always did.

…Right?

You didn’t think about it much when you got the text later that day.

[unknown number]: you forgot your textbook. rm 3b.

[unknown number]: i can bring it if u want.

You stared at the messages, confused for a second—until you realized it had to be Jungwon. Of course it was. Who else would be that polite about a stupid forgotten book?

You texted back a half-hearted ok, already smirking to yourself. God, he’s desperate, you thought. He was really going out of his way for you now. It was almost pathetic.

You made your way to Room 3B after the last bell, the hallway practically deserted. Most people had already left for the day, leaving only the low hum of distant footsteps and the occasional squeak of sneakers on tile.

When you pushed open the door, the room was dim, the late afternoon sun spilling in long, golden streaks across the floor.

And there he was.

Jungwon stood by your desk, your chemistry textbook in hand, head bowed slightly. His blonde hair caught the light, making it look almost soft around the edges. He wasn’t wearing his blazer anymore—just the white button-up, the sleeves pushed up a little—and it made him look…different. More casual. More real.

You stepped inside lazily, the door clicking shut behind you.

“Wow,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms. “You really take your job as my tutor seriously, huh?”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

He just looked up at you—and for the first time, you noticed something different in his eyes. Something that made your skin prickle a little.

He wasn’t nervous.

Not anymore.

“You forgot this,” he said simply, voice low and even.

You walked closer, letting your bag slide off your shoulder onto a chair. “Thanks, Professor Jungwon,” you joked, reaching for the book.

But instead of handing it to you, he held onto it—just out of reach.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

For a second, he just looked at you, head tilted slightly like he was studying something.

Then he smiled.

Not the shy, awkward smile you were used to.

No, this one was slower. Lazier. A smile that knew things. Dangerous things.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, voice still light but edged with something sharper underneath. “Messing with me. Laughing at me with your little friends.”

You blinked, heart skipping once, confused. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I mean…” you said slowly, trying to summon that same teasing tone. “Maybe a little?”

Jungwon stepped closer.

You instinctively backed up—only to feel the desk press against the backs of your thighs.

You opened your mouth to say something else—to crack another joke, maybe, to turn the moment back into something safe—but before you could, he set the textbook down carefully on the desk beside you.

And caged you in with both hands, palms flat against the wood.

You stared up at him, breath caught.

His eyes, usually so soft, were burning now. Sharp and focused, like he was seeing right through you. His body was so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, suffocating, dizzying.

“You think you can just say whatever you want to me,” he said softly, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Laugh at me. Flirt with me. Make me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“I—It was just a joke,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered.

Another slow, dangerous smile.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well, here’s the thing, Y/N.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“I’m done being the joke.”

You froze, your whole body tensing, but Jungwon didn’t give you any time to think.

One hand slid from the desk to your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. He pressed his body closer, chest against yours, so you could feel just how much bigger and stronger he really was.

“You’re so loud usually,” he whispered, voice smooth and dark against your ear. “Where’s all that attitude now, huh?”

You squirmed, but it only made him grip you tighter, pinning your hips against the desk.

“You thought you were in control,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling like he could smell your fear. “Laughing with your friends. Acting like you were better than me.”

You whimpered—quiet and unintentional—and he chuckled low in his chest.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

Slowly, torturously slow, he trailed his hand up your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt, fingertips feather-light against your bare skin. Your breath hitched, and he smiled against your neck.

“You like this,” he said quietly, almost like he was marveling at the realization. “You like when I’m mean to you.”

You shook your head automatically, but Jungwon just laughed again, dark and soft.

“Liar.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes were molten now, dark and hungry, and you shivered under the weight of his stare.

“I should make you beg,” he whispered, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Make you apologize for being such a little brat.”

Your lips parted, desperate to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, almost gently, dragging his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “Or do I have to teach you a lesson?

You whimpered again, nodding weakly.

His smile widened, all sharp teeth and dangerous promise.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with his knees. The sudden movement made you squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance, but he didn’t let you go—he loomed over you, hands gripping your waist possessively, like he owned you.

“Show me,” Jungwon said, voice so soft it barely made a sound. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked up at him, heart racing, and whispered back without thinking, “W-What?”

He just stared down at you, unblinking, fingers tightening at your waist like a warning.

“On your knees,” he repeated, firmer now, and when you hesitated for half a second longer, he grabbed your chin and guided you down slowly, almost gentle, until your knees hit the floor with a quiet thud against the carpet.

“Jungwon…” you whispered again, voice small, but he didn’t budge.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Pretty,” he murmured. “So pretty when you’re quiet.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning, and breathed out shakily, “I-I don’t know what you want me to do…”

A small, dangerous smile played on his lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt, the soft clink making your stomach twist in anticipation. You couldn’t look away—couldn’t even think—your mouth already watering slightly as he tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing his cock, hard and thick and leaking at the tip.

You whimpered, staring, and your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded frantically, voice barely a breath. “Y-Yeah… I want it.”

“Then open up,” he ordered, and his voice was so calm it made your whole body shudder.

You parted your lips obediently, heart thundering, and he slid the tip against your tongue, teasing you slowly, making you feel every inch.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low growl. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You whimpered again, looking up at him through your lashes, desperate to make him proud, desperate for him to keep saying those things to you.

“You’re so good, Jungwon,” you whispered around him, voice muffled and needy.

A dark flush colored his cheeks at your praise, but he didn’t let up, sliding deeper with slow, shallow thrusts, one hand threading into your hair to hold you there.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips rocking slowly. “Such a good little mouth… made for me.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes from the stretch, but you forced yourself to stay still, to let him use you like he wanted. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“You look so good like this,” he breathed. “Bet you never thought you’d end up on your knees for me, huh?”

You whined around him, the humiliation and heat rushing through your body too much to handle.

“Didn’t know you’d be so mean,” you managed to mumble out when he pulled back a little, your voice wrecked and breathless.

He chuckled lowly, thumb brushing away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, baby,” he whispered.

You nodded, so desperate, so wrecked already. “Please…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungwon… I want you…”

His jaw flexed, his control visibly snapping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips jerking forward as he pushed deeper into your mouth, making you choke slightly.

You pulled back with a gasp, panting, and he immediately stroked your hair gently, calming you.

“Shh. You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” he praised. “You’re perfect.”

You looked up at him, tears in your lashes, spit glistening on your lips.

“I want to be good for you,” you said, voice wobbling.

“You already are,” he whispered, dragging his cock slowly across your tongue again.

You shivered, feeling your whole body light up at his words.

He tightened his grip in your hair, sliding himself back into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, using you like he had every right to.

And you let him. Whimpering, obeying, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Because he owned you now. And you didn’t want it any other way.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Jungwon yanked you up from the floor, strong hands gripping your waist and shoving you back against the couch. His body pressed flush against yours, caging you in.

“You’re not done,” he muttered, voice low and dark in your ear. “I’m not done.”

You whimpered, nodding without even thinking, your thighs squeezing together at the way he looked at you — like he was starving and you were the only thing he could eat.

He grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so soft and sunny, were blown wide and black with hunger.

“Look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your cheek. “Already fucked out and I haven’t even gotten started.”

You tried to say something—tried to beg—but he didn’t give you the chance. In one swift movement, he manhandled you onto the couch, forcing you onto your back, and tugged your panties down your legs without ceremony.

“Spread those legs for me, pretty,” he murmured, voice steady but ragged with want.

You did, shakily, heart pounding so hard you could barely breathe.

He tugged his jeans down just enough, cock hard and leaking, and lined himself up without warning. You felt the blunt, thick head of him pressing against your entrance, and your breath caught.

“You ready?” he rasped.

You nodded desperately, nails digging into the cushions.

“Use your words,” he ordered, tapping the inside of your thigh sharply.

“Please,” you gasped out. “Please, Jungwon, I want it—need it—”

That was all he needed.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you screamed — high-pitched and choked, the stretch overwhelming. Your whole body arched off the couch at the sudden, merciless intrusion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself still for a second, letting you feel every inch of him. “Feels too good. Gonna fuck you so stupid, baby.”

You sobbed, legs trembling around his hips, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in hard enough to make the couch creak beneath you. Again. Again. Hard and deep and punishing, every thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wanted to tease me?” he grunted, voice still soft and deadly in your ear. “Wanted to be a brat in front of your little friends?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, barely coherent under the relentless pace.

“Bet you don’t feel so cocky now, huh?” he whispered, punctuating every word with another deep thrust.

You tried to answer but all that came out was a broken moan.

He chuckled low under his breath, slowing down just enough to drag himself out painfully slow before slamming back in to the hilt, making you cry out.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he licked a tear off your cheek and murmured, “Poor thing. Too much?”

You shook your head wildly, clinging to him.

He kept going until your whole body was trembling, until your nails carved angry red lines down his back, until you were sobbing his name like it was the only word you knew.

Finally, when your legs gave out completely and you sagged into the cushions, he slowed. His hands gentled, cradling you.

Wordlessly, he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His cock still heavy and hard between your legs, pressed against your soaked folds.

He cupped your face in both hands, smoothing your hair back, and kissed you so softly it almost hurt. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for him.

“You still want it?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice wrecked and trembling. “Please.”

He guided you down onto him slowly this time, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open again.

You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, tears brimming in your lashes again from the slow, aching fullness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Take all of it. You’re doing so good.”

He rocked you on his cock gently, holding you close, whispering filthy things in your ear the whole time.

“Feel how deep I am, baby? You were made for this… made for me to fuck you like this.”

You whimpered, biting his shoulder to muffle your sobs of pleasure as he guided your hips, slow and deep and overwhelming.

“Never teasing me again,” he whispered, smiling against your hair. “Not unless you want this.”

You nodded desperately, grinding down against him, so full you could barely think.

“You’re mine to fuck,” he murmured, dragging his cock against that sensitive spot inside you, making you jolt in his lap. “Mine to ruin.”

You came apart in his arms, sobbing his name into his shoulder, shaking and gasping. He held you through it, never stopping, whispering praise into your ear until you completely fell apart.

And when he finally followed, spilling deep inside you with a low groan, he didn’t move away.

He just held you, rocking you gently in his lap, brushing kisses across your temple, your jaw, your mouth.

Like he hadn’t just broken you completely.

Like he was never gonna let you go.

The next morning, you could still feel it — a dull, delicious ache between your thighs with every step you took. Your body was sore, your neck littered with faint bruises you tried—and failed—to cover with makeup, and your heart raced every time you even thought about Jungwon.

Which was a problem. Because you were sitting across from him in class, and he kept sneaking little glances at you from behind his glasses, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips whenever your eyes met.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clenching your thighs together under the desk, cheeks burning.

“What’s up with you?” one of your friends whispered, elbowing you in the side during lecture.

“Huh? N-nothing,” you stammered, staring down at your notes so hard the lines blurred together.

Another girl leaned over. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“I don’t,” you protested weakly, adjusting your jacket to hide the faint purple marks blooming down your throat.

They weren’t convinced.

“You’re acting weird,” the first girl said, wrinkling her nose. “Like…all shy and jumpy. Did something happen?”

“No,” you said too quickly, glancing instinctively at Jungwon.

You caught him looking again — but this time, he didn’t look away. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flipped.

Oh god.

Your friends caught that look.

They turned, following your gaze, and their jaws dropped.

“Wait. No freaking way,” one of them whispered, half-laughing. “You’re into him?!”

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The other girl snorted. “Since when do you like nerds?”

You shrank into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Especially when Jungwon leaned back in his chair casually, spreading his thighs just a little wider under the desk — like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

“Bet he’s not that nerdy when he’s alone with her,” one of your friends joked under her breath, laughing.

Your face flamed.

And across the room, Jungwon smiled lazily at you, like a wolf who knew his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

prompt request list

564 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 2 days ago

Text

Endure and Survive

prompt: ( x4 ? requested ) you need Joel to survive after enduring the unimaginable.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader -> only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 12k+

warnings: obvious spoilers, S2E2 reader insert, Fix It Joel, Joel Miller survives / lives, AU timeline, cursing, mentions blood and injury, guns, dead bodies, parentified!reader, wife!reader, found family obviously - Ellie calls you 'mom'. mentions of explicit material: marijuana / weed, the horses have names idc, established relationship, angst, hurt / comfort, drama, depiction of anxiety and panic attacks, not edited, Lord's name in vain, single Spanish word. imagination, caution, and maturity required. happy but abrupt ending, possible (past) morally grey!reader, petnames.

You woke earlier than your husband as usual, humming in the first streaks of morning light; stretching minimally as to not wake the man beside you, whose bare legs were tangled with yours. However, try as you might, the arm coiled around your waist constricted to a bruising strength; which caused your lips to stretch in a bemused grin.

"Sun ain't up," his gruff, gravely voice grated in your ear.

"Mh," you hummed, "but it is."

"Not if you shut your eyes."

"Still work that needs done."

"C'mon, baby, can spare another hour."

With a sigh, you laid your arm over his, "You know today's not the day for delay." He huffed, knowing you were right. "You know," you turned over in his embrace to greet the lightly tanned face aged with freckles and faint liver spots, decorated with few scars, "should ask Ellie t'go on patrol with you this mornin'."

"Baby."

"Joel."

"She's... Still a bit pissed."

"Okay, but what teenage daughter isn't?" You snickered.

"She ain't mad at you."

"'Cause I let her fight her own battles."

"Oh, so, now it's my fault for wantin' to protect her?"

"I didn't say that," you sighed with a patient smile. "But Ellie's not that vulnerable, green 14-year-old we met in Boston, baby. And... Look, I'm not saying Seth ain't deserve it, but they were walking away. You and I could've gone a different route, you know?"

"As her parents - "

"It's our right to protect our kid," you insisted. "But consider the circumstances, I think you embarrassed her a little."

"How?" You just offered him a knowing look, making Joel groan, "Fine, all right? Fine, I know, it was public - "

"So very public."

"And she was gonna say her own piece... But if not then, when the fuck am I supposed to step in? What he said was homophobic, doll, if we let him get away with it, would've opened the door for him or anyone else to run their mouth."

"We beat the shit outta him in an alley, of course. Or, you know, maaaybe we go out on patrol together and maaaybe they don't come back?"

"Yeah, yeah," he groaned, "but I ain't think."

"That's one thing I love about you - you act first. It's very noble, like you just have this inherent sense of right and wrong. Never really need time to think."

Joel chuckled, "It's too early for the sweet talk."

"It's never too early - especially when you're protectin' our girl. It's hot..."

"You just said - "

"I never said you were wrong, I'm just trying to take Ellie's perspective into account. Look, she's at that age where life feels invincible, where she's been through more than we can truly fathom - so, she feels twice the age she really is. But she's still young, still a trigger-happy-moron and will never stop needing her parents. She just wants to feel like she's a bit of independence, like we trust her to fight her own battles and handle her own shit. I think we're supposed to just... I don't know, keep watch and jump in if she can't handle it. You know? But we gotta give her the opportunity to do it on her own in the first place."

Joel offered you a side-ways glance, "You been talkin' to Gail?"

"Fuck off," you snickered, trying to sit up but being wrangled back into the sheets. "Joel," you laughed, "we gotta get gone. C'mon, you heard what happened last night - "

"Just ten more minutes, baby, please."

"You really wanna risk Maria siccing Benji on us again? I'm pretty sure we traumatized him last time, Maria said he kept asking if that's where babies come from."

You swore his cheeks bloomed brightly, but it was quickly hidden as his face shoved into your neck with a gruff sort of whimper. "Guess not..."

Taking pity, your hands shot into his salty locks to rake your nails over his scalp soothingly. "Ten minutes, handsome, then I gotta get to the stable."

Ten minutes with Joel turned into 30 easily, but it was worth the reprimand from Maria just to be able to get extra time in his arms and peacefully have coffee together before a long day. She asked you to send Ellie to her before she left on patrol, then requested you go with her - if only for your own peace of mind, knowing she's safe. After the previous night's report of a horde of Infected lying in wait under the snow and about 30 other frozen Infected used as insulation, she felt better sending you with the two young adults.

However, during your morning chores in the stables, you were surprised to see Joel, Dina, and Jesse enter together; asking for their usual mounts as the young man leaned on the stall beside you.

You shot Joel an annoyed look, but he just sighed, "I wanted t'go with her, baby, swear; but Ellie had a long night, you know? Should let her sleep a bit."

"Joel."

"It's all right, Dina said she'd go instead."

Your head shook, "Fine, but we're having family dinner tonight - no exceptions. Y'all gotta talk this shit out, okay? The tension's drivin' me insane."

"Me too," Dina quipped with a small smirk.

"Me three," Jesse chimed in, snickering when you and Joel pinned him with looks; only yours was out of amusement and his, out of annoyance.

"Family dinner, kid," he repeated.

You chuckled with Jesse and Dina, asking the young man, "Whatcha need, bud? You goin' with them, too? We sending trios now?"

"Nah, Maria said I'm going with you and Ellie," Jesse informed, and only Dina clocked the way Joel's shoulders released from the perpetual tension they were haunched in.

"Yeah, all right, cool," you agreed with a small sniffle. "Lemme get these two up and out - I'll get our horses after."

"Baby," Joel stepped up, "let Ellie sleep a bit more."

"We'll have her up for 8 o'clock patrol," you nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist to hang off his form and for hands to squeeze your hips. "Now, what're y'all gonna do?"

"Radio in."

"How often?"

"Every 20 minutes, doll."

"And?"

"Stay safe."

"And?"

"Don't be reckless."

"And?"

"Am I forgettin' one of your rules?"

"Mhm, I literally just said it - "

"Oh! I know, I know!" Dina waved her hand in the air, grinning, "Be home in time for family dinner!"

"That's my smart girl," you praised, making the girl preen with pride.

Joel chuckled, "Yeah, sugar, we'll be back in time. Channel 7 for us, right?"

"Exactly," you breathed, sudden nerves spiking to make your face fall as your eyes swept over his face. "Listen to me, don't play hero, Joel, y'all are just scoutin' the area, all right? You get the fuck outta there if something's up, don't try t'fight."

"I know, honey."

"And bring my Dina home in one piece, please. Preferably, fully thawed and unscathed."

Joel smirked, "Always do. You stay safe, too, baby. Hey - keep an eye on my wife, kid," he directed at Jesse.

"She's the one with a quick drawl, usually saves my ass," he mused.

"Then don't need saving," Joel warned in a growl.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, that's enough," with a chuckle, you patted Joel's waist and released him. In an effort to help you all identify one another when out there, you informed, "Dina, you're on Butterscotch, Joel, I got you on Cooper. Jesse, you're gonna be on Dewey, I'll put Ellie on Bean, and I'm taking Luxor."

Dina smiled as she approached her horse, "Thanks, Y/N. We'll be back soon."

"Yeah, I'll grab Ellie and meet you at the gate," Jesse agreed.

"Oh, uh, Maria wants a word before we go - so, can you make sure Ellie sees her?"

"Yes, ma'am. Where at?"

"Uh, probably the cantina - Tommy's gonna address the people, she'll be there with Benji."

"Right. On it," he offered you his fist to bump before heading out of the stable to do whatever he needed prior to patrol.

"Hey," Joel muttered, earning your attention, "you look worried. You good, baby?"

"Yeah, just... Something in the air, I guess." You glanced at Dina a few stalls up, lowering your voice, "It's remindin' me of KC, you know? Them fuckers lying in wait underground?"

"I know, baby, me too."

"And after Ellie's report, sounds like they're evolvin'. Joel, just... Be careful out there, all right? Don't take any chances, please, and just - look, I know you're not one to run from danger, but things are different now. You don't always gotta be so brave and tough, sometimes it's for the greater good to just run."

"I'll keep Dina safe, we won't take no risks, sweetheart. Promise."

"Good," you sighed. "C'mere, besos, please."

"Lessons with Tommy payin' off, I see," he grinned with pride. "Love hearin' you talk like that, baby, does somethin' t'me."

"I know, that's why I'm learnin'," you whispered, lifting to your toes in order to press a kiss to his lips. "Love you, handsome."

"Hm," he kept you close, stealing another kiss, "love you more, sweetheart. You be careful, too. We got dinner plans."

"Exactly. Now, go on, get gone, the sooner y'all head out, sooner you'll be back, right?"

"In theory."

"Make it in practice," you snipped, smirking into one final kiss. Joel sighed and released you, turning to grab Cooper. You left Luxor on cross ties to walk the pair to the front gate; hand laced tightly with Joel's as the three of you made mindless conversation about whatever you planned for dinner. You gave Dina a leg-up into her saddle, bidding, "Stay safe, kid."

"Always am," she smiled.

"Fuckin' liar, just listen to Joel, please, c'mon," you snorted, making her laugh as you turned for your husband.

"I'll see you soon," he assured, pecking your lips before hauling himself to Cooper's saddle. You frowned and kept pace with his side, calling for the gates to open. "Love you, baby," Joel hushed as he nudged his horse forward.

"Love you," you called, keeping the nerves out of your tone; watching them through the gate as the air turned poignant. You couldn't pin point it, but something felt... Strange. Off. Odd. Unsure and disproportionate. You heard the gate guards announce their departure, watching them for only a few moments before gesturing for the door to close up.

You missed the way Joel turned in the saddle to catch the last fleeting glimpse of you before the wood cut off all sight. Dina smirked, "Dude, you're whipped."

"Got a lady like mine, you would be, too. Now, c'mon."

Ellie pinned you with an unamused glare as she and Jesse approached about an hour later, taking hold of Bean's reins while snipping, "Really? You tell Seth to fucking apologize?"

"What's that?" You blinked.

"You said Maria wanted to talk to me - it was so Seth could apologize or whatever."

"Oh. Hm..."

"You didn't know?"

"Nah, kid, Maria just told me she wanted a word before we left," you informed, letting Jesse take the reins of his horse, Dewey. "I've learned my lesson 'bout askin' stupid questions. Usually, questionin' Maria is stupid."

"Right," she sighed, watching you from her own saddle as you mounted Luxor. The three of you moved together out of Jackson's gates, hearing the guards announce the departure, and venturing into the vast, open nothingness. Ellie eyed the grey skies wearily, asking you, "Are we worrying about that?"

"Nah, should just be up in the mountains," Jesse answered for the both of you - but for an unshakeable reason, you couldn't agree.

"Fucking hope so," Ellie mused. "Ten seconds in, I already can't feel my ass."

"You get some breakfast, babe?" You asked, eyeing Ellie.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no, but I'm all right."

"Fuck that," you sighed, reaching for the saddle bag. "Here, I got, uh... It ain't much, but eggs are good protein."

"Oh..." Ellie accepted the two hard boiled eggs you produced; unwrapping the cling wrap to hand back. Supplies were few and far between, everyone saving whatever material they could for repeat use after cleaning it. "Thanks, Y/N." You nodded, nudging Luxor into a trot. "Hey, uh... You let Joel and Dina go alone?"

"'Let'?" You snorted, "C'mon, honey, you know either of them to do anything I say?"

"Joel, yes... Dina... Not so much."

You and Jesse chuckled, turning off towards Cottonwood as a harsh, bitter wind swept over the three of you. It felt like the hand of Death; doing what you could to ignore your anxiety.

Amy's radio transmission barely reached you as the blizzard had rolled over the town you trotted through. She called for all patrols to return to Jackson, but the wind, snow, and frigid temperatures prevented your escape; already a couple hours from home base. Naturally, you were the decision maker and informed Amy you'd shelter in place until the worst of the storm had passed, leading Jesse and Ellie towards one of the cleared-out garages you knew of in the ghost town.

The horses were left with a supply of hay, knowing they needed rest and fed before attempting to brave the weather back to Jackson. You were familiar with this particular area after clearing and securing it just that past fall with Jesse, the two youngsters following you at a jog for the usual convenience store patrol members had commandeered. You yanked the door open, met with the sweeping smell of stale weed and seeping snow; panting as you slammed the door and dropped your pack almost instantly.

"You good? You all right?" You checked the kids, watching Jesse nod as Ellie was stalking around the rows of growing marijuana plants.

"Am I fucking hallucinating?" She asked gleefully.

"Maybe. Do you see a 7-Eleven full of weed?" Jesse mused, trailing after you towards the radio.

"Yep."

"Then no," he sighed, kneeling before the wood stove. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah, honey?" You asked, turning the radio dial with a single headphone pressed to your ear.

"Whatchu want me to do 'bout this?"

Glancing over, you tried to wrack your memory, "Nothin' viable in there?"

"Some but not much."

"Try to light what you can," you nodded. "There's spare wood in the back. With luck, it's still dry."

"All right, yeah," he panted, the cold blistering as it seeped into all bones and cracked drying skin.

"How'd you know about this place?" Ellie wondered, still admiring the stoner's paradise.

"Eugene," Jesse answered with an undertone of remorse. Ellie's face fell, recognizing the name from the many times Dina had mentioned the old man. "He was my first patrol partner. One day, he showed it to me, said he found it a year earlier when he was on a solo patrol. Swore me to secrecy. Said Maria wouldn't be supportive of his, uh, farming."

"What about you, Y/N?"

You just shrugged, "I know everything, kid. Was a young thing in the '90s, I know what's up."

Jesse snickered as Ellie went quiet; making the lad look up in curiosity only to spy her at a spare table, examining an old medallion similar to a dogtag. He asked, "You okay?"

She paused, then breathing, "Yeah."

"Y/N, you got a lighter?"

"Uh, should be one or eight around here, kid," you answered, still receiving only static over the radio.

"Right," he sniffled, rummaging around to locate one with enough lighter fluid.

He got the fire going at last as Ellie questioned, "Eugene was a Firefly?"

"Yup. Just early on, though."

"Served with Tommy," you piped up, sparing a small glance and a smirk over your shoulder before refocusing.

"He quit back in 2010," Jesse continued.

"How come?"

"He said he was tired of killing people. I think he was in Vietnam."

"Oh."

Jesse grabbed a spare blanket, handing it to Ellie and nodding at you while taking a seat before the stove. She stood from where she'd sat on the side of a cot, unwrapping the wool to drape around your shoulders for you. "Thanks, baby girl," you muttered, barely aware of the added warmth.

"Come sit by the fire," she mumbled, squeezing your shoulders before returning to her seat.

It was quiet, the two sat in contemplation. Jesse spoke with bitterness over the haunting memory, "That was a raw deal. Joel having to put Eugene down..."

"Hey," you snapped, looking at him with a fierce side-eye. "Know y'all were friends, but Joel ain't do nothin' but deliver mercy. Eugene had a fuckin' stroke, wasn't easy for anyone involved."

Jesse nodded in agreement, "Just a fuckin' shame. Guy makes it through a war, end up goin' out like that." He sighed, "What are you gonna do? Like Y/N said, couldn't be saved."

"Yeah," Ellie breathed. "Hey, Y/N? ... Y/N? ... Y/N!"

"I got it, I got it!" You cried, radio clearing for a moment. You grabbed the CB, "Joel? Joel? Come in, Joel!" You waited a moment, sliding the headphones over your ears, readjusting on your knees and trying to dial the signal into anything stronger. "Joel, come in! C'mon, baby, answer the fucking radio!" But you only earned more static. "God fuckin' damnit! Told him to check in with me on channel 7 - right, Jesse?"

"Yeah, right, every 20 minutes, ma'am," he shared a nervous look with Ellie. "Look, I'm sure they're doin' the same - sheltering in place - "

"Joel!" You tried again, growling in frustration, "This fucking storm, man, I can't get through - it's all fucking static. Joel! C'mon, come in! Joel, Dina? Hey! Someone fucking answer me! Please!" But there was no answer. "Fuck!" Your fist banged on the bulky machine.

"Try Jackson, we might be in range," advised Ellie, the cold seeping into her lungs to make her voice quake.

You sighed, changing the channel and trying again, "Jackson, come in, Jackson. This is Cottonwood, come in... Tommy? Hey, come in, Jackson! This is Cottonwood... Amy! Amy, can you hear me? Over."

"Think we're gonna be here a while," Ellie mused to Jesse.

"Yeah. Hey, Y/N. C'mon, come get warm - leave the channel open, they'll radio in when they can."

But you were switching back to channel 7, "Joel? Hey, come in Copper Mine, this is Cottonwood. Someone fucking answer me! Joel! Dina! Come in! C'mon, I need to know y'all are okay! Come in, Copper Mine! This is Cottonwood..." But the static mocked you. "Joel, it's Y/N, please, fucking answer! Come in! Joel, please! Over..." You switched back to Jackson's channel, "Jackson, this is Cottonwood. Please, someone, come in! I-I can't get ahold of Copper Mine, please, come in... Amy, Tommy, I can't get ahold of Joel, come in! This is Cottonwood, we're sheltering in place - please, answer! Over..." This continued for another hour before you were gritting your teeth and leaving the channel open, still dialing, calling over the waves every so often - hoping someone, even another patrol group, would check in. But the wind and snow fucked everyone's radio transmission.

Ellie leaned over to Jesse, muttering, "Should we pack her a bowl? Sounds like she needs it."

Jesse snickered and nudged her shoulder, Ellie grinning as she stood to begin snooping; leaving the lad to stretch out on the cot. He watched you for a little bit before slowly shutting his eyes as the wood stove soon warmed them.

"Jesse," a muffled voice leered.

"What?"

"Check it," Ellie encouraged. When you looked up from your place by the stove, finally taking refuge by the heat, you discovered Ellie wearing a refurbished gas mask with a bong attached to the mouth piece.

You couldn't help the bark of laughter, shaking your head as Jesse scoffed and looked away from the sight.

Ellie giggled, yanking the mask off, "Did he make this?"

"Yeah."

"I'm taking this with me."

"Uh, no, ma'am, you're not," your smile dropped.

"Oh, c'mon," Ellie whined.

"Listen to your mom, kid," Jesse leered in a bored tone. "You're not taking that."

Instead of correcting him that you weren't her mother (by birth), she just sighed, "Yes, I am. And as much weed as I can shove into my pack."

"Ellie," you scolded.

"You said yourself, you did this shit in the '90s."

Your eyes rolled, "It was a different time."

"I'm still taking it, if the apocalypse isn't the time to get high, I don't know when is."

"Nope," Jesse now chimed, "leave it, Ellie."

"Dude, you're gonna be in charge of Jackson one day, we all know - but that day has not yet come."

"Y/N has superiority, she said - "

But Jesse cut himself off when the radio finally fucking came to life, the static clear - but Amy's voice cutting in and out as she tried to reach your party. He watched as you scrambled to your feet, leaving the wool blanket in place on the floor, and rushed to drop before the machine; knees nearly cracking from the impact.

"Repeat, Jackson?" You called over the CB; trying to carefully enhance the signal.

"Copper Mine, do you copy?"

"Hey! Hey! This is Y/N, you're barely there... Amy? Do you copy? This is Cottonwood. Over."

You waited only a moment, finding a sweet spot to hear the distorted reply, "Y/N, have - Joel or Dina?"

"Repeat? Jackson, come in, you're breaking up! Repeat last message!" You turned the dial with tears slowly gathering out of pure nerves and anxiety.

"Have - heard - Joel or Dina?"

You pieced the message together, nervously replying as Ellie slowly approached your shoulder, "No, why?"

"They haven't checked in," Amy answered. "Are - you - Copper Mine?"

"Fuck," Ellie hissed over your shoulder.

"Amy, repeat?" You pleaded. "Amy!" But the static was back. "Amy, come back!" You released the transmission to growl, "Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck!" Trying again, you begged, "Amy!"

But there was no answer, making you climb to your feet. "Woah, hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Jesse yelped as you snatched your pack from the ground and rushed around the hideout. Ellie was on your tail.

"We're not far from Copper Mine, let's fucking go! We can't leave them out there like this! C'mon!" You barked, hearing him sigh and follow swiftly without protest. Ellie and Jesse followed you out the door, sprinting towards the garage and yanking the nearly iced-closed door up.

"Y/N, hang on a second - "

You snarled, "Fuck that! My husband's out there, Jesse, I'm goin' after them! We don't know how far they got, but they're not back home and they're not radioing in!"

"I know," he agreed as you and Ellie reached for your horses. "Look, the route's an oval around the mine. We gotta split up and come at it from both sides. Northwest and northeast. You two go together, we meet up in the middle."

"We'll take northeast," Ellie agreed, trio leading the horses towards the open door. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Go, c'mon," you directed them, Luxor trained enough to stand as you gave Ellie a leg-up. Jesse was mounting on his own as you answered her question, "If the wind holds steady, maybe 20 minutes."

"You gotta get to the mine by then," Jesse picked up, his authority ringing clear, "Ellie, Y/N, whether you find them or not."

"Yeah, you fucking too, Jesse," Ellie snarled, spurring her horse into the blizzard.

"Go! And be careful!" You demanded, smacking Dewey on the flank to send him and Jesse into the storm. You paused only to pull the garage door back down, Luxor already walking forward; making you jog to keep pace and hop to catch the stirrup. He was breaking into a canter by the time you were seated, spurring the ebony mount after Ellie and Bean as Jesse was cutting to the side.

"Y/N!" Ellie hollered over the wind.

"I'm right here, baby!" You cried, eyes squinted in the stinging, whipping, frigid air. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm here, just go! C'mon! Stay with me, Ellie! C'mon, cut this way!" You directed Luxor, hearing Bean change direction after you. "We don't stop!" After several minutes, you checked, "Baby girl? You still with me?"

"I'm here!" She called from behind you.

"Keep going!"

"Y/N! The fucking snow - it's too thick! I can't see shit!"

"Don't fucking stop, we'll make it! Just stay with me, baby, c'mon, let's go! We're all right, we gotta make it!" By a stroke of pure luck, you heard a chatter over your radio. "HOLD!" You cried to Ellie, Luxor whinnying in protest as you skidded to a slippery halt; wrangling your hand radio from your belt. In time, you heard Joel, "Y/N? Y/N, come in! C'mon, baby, fucking answer me!"

"Joel!?"

"Y/N!"

"Joel, Joel, I-I copy! I copy!"

"Good t'hear your voice, baby."

"Where the fuck are you!?" You cried, Ellie looking relieved for a split moment before light static was heard instead of his deep, Southern accent. Yet... Something told you this wasn't just silence, but something else. Something worrisome. "Joel? Joel! No, no, no, come back! Joel! Answer me! JOEL!"

"The storm!" Ellie reminded.

"It's not the fucking storm," you panted, confusion marring your usually pleasant expression. You tried again, "Joel, come in! Do you copy!? Joel, please! Baby, fucking ANSWER me!"

Unknown to you, Joel heard your desperate pleas but couldn't answer as Abby and her mini militia had taken a frostbitten Dina hostage; gun to her temple, semi-automatic pointed at him in threat.

"Joel, where are you? Where are you, Joel, fucking come in!" You begged, shaking your head at Ellie as the silence was deafening; own automatic rifle suddenly burning into where it was latched to your saddle, pressing to your thigh. "Fuck! We keep moving - "

"Where?"

"North, c'mon, there's better signal outta the fucking trees. Let's go, baby, keep up!"

"Go! I'm right behind you!"

As a last ditch effort, you held the reins in one hand as the other radioed, "Joel, where the fuck are you!? Please!" You prayed the further north you got, the better signal. "Come in! Baby, please, please, we're fucking worried! Come in, please! JOEL! For fuck's sake!" No response, but you found something in the snow... Tracks. "Ellie! Ellie, follow the tracks - don't lose 'em! They're still fresh!"

You galloped forward, still trying in vain to reach Joel; who was wailing in pain as Abby bludgeoned his blown-out knee to the sounds of your frantic cries of his name. It was almost as if you could sense what was happening, wanting to be there with him in his end Abby promised to bring.

"Y/N, LOOK!" Ellie called, pulling her horse to a rearing-halt, eyes in the distance from mid-hill you climbed. "FUCKING STOP AND LOOK!"

"Ellie, we don't got time! The snow's gonna cover - "

"LOOK!"

You yanked Luxor to another halt, whipping him around towards Ellie - but seeing where she pointed. Through the valley, you could make out the sight of Jackson from miles away, mouth agape to gasp, "Oh, my fucking God."

"What the hell is that?"

You blinked back tears, "J-Jackson. Fuck, the Infected, they must've found 'em."

"Wh-What do we do? What the hell do we do, Y/N?" You had to think fast, fear seizing hold of your heart. "Do we go back? Or move on?"

You sniffled, "Tommy's got Jackson - that's the fire, see? We... We move on! We find Joel and Dina, these have gotta be their tracks, baby, we're so close now. We can't stop."

"Y/N..."

"You go back if you want! Back to the fucking 7-Eleven, but I'm not leaving without Joel! Are you with me?"

"What if they're not alone?"

"Then I fucking pray for those stupid fucking souls," you snarled, both hoods drawn in the thick, blinding flurries. "Now are you with me, baby girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fucking with you. Let's go."

You spurred Luxor around and followed the fading-fast tracks left in the blanket of crunchy snow. After several yards, you called, "C'mon, keep pace with me, Ellie - don't tire them out too bad, we gotta make the trip home!"

"I'm right here!"

Up the hill, you let Luxor and Bean canter at their set, desired pace; taking your own advice not to tire them too greatly. As you got up to a semi-even outcrop, you saw something over the treetops. "Ellie? Ellie, you see that?"

"What the fuck? What's up here?"

"Lodges? Ski resorts?" You guessed, encouraging Luxor faster.

"Y/N, there! There, look!" Ellie gasped, horses snorting with exertion when you halted once more. "Is that...?"

"Cooper and Butterscotch," you breathed. "Joel and Dina must've taken shelter - c'mon!"

"Why're they here? Copper Mine's back down - "

"I don't fucking care why, Ellie, they're here!" Realizing your tone and how it made the nervous girl frown, you apologized, "I-I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm just - I don't know what's going on. Okay? Something ain't right. Now, c'mon, please, Ellie, c'mon." You eyed the building, an old ski lodge some richie-rich must've owned before the Outbreak. "Hey, hey," you hushed, coming to another halt behind the tethered horses, hand held up with warning, "you see anythin'? Any movement?"

"No?"

"The windows, Ellie. C'mon, honey, use them young eyes for me."

She squinted in the sideways snow, but the reflective windows didn't show anything inside, no movement; making her head shake. "N-Nothing, I don't see anything."

"That's not exactly a good thing," you noted. "Dismount, we go on foot."

"What's the plan, Y/N?"

Your boots crunched into the snow, quickly binding Luxor's reins to the broken-down privacy fence surrounding the lodge's perimeter. Your breath came out in a puff of air, telling her as she followed your actions, "We go in smart. Check the first floor, we move up," you unlatched your rifle from the saddle. "We don't know what the fuck's inside. Don't shoot any movement on sight, we don't know where Joel and Dina are."

"Should you try the radio again?"

You gazed up at the windows, something sickly bubbling in your gut, "No... No, we go in - what if... What if?"

"There's Infected? Joel's got it - "

"C'mon," you worried, nodding at her after you, "I'm not willing to fucking wait."

"Right," she hurried after you.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet, shhh-hh-hhhh" you hushed, racking your rifle in favor of your handgun; reaching for the still in-tact door. It opened easily as if recently accessed, Ellie stepping silently inside after you and catching the door before it slammed shut. You nodded in praise, side-stepping over yourself as the ground floor appeared as just abandoned construction.

Ellie grabbed your sleeve, your worried eyes turning to her, but she silently pointed up towards the ceiling. You tuned in, hearing muffled thumping and feeling all air deflate from your pinched lungs. Worried that it wasn't the usual erratic sound of a feasting Infected, thinking it sounded too timed and planned, you looked back to Ellie - intent to whisper a plan - but she was surging ahead of you.

"Ellie! Stay together! Ellie! Don't!" You hissed, huffing as she disappeared around a corner as the sounds of distant screaming seeped from the floor above you. "Fuck's sake. I'm gettin' too old for this fuckin' shit." You peaked around the immediate corners, not finding any signs of life - but flinching when a gunshot echoed in the space around you. Taking cover, you realized the sounds were coming from up the stairs, gasping in worry for your adopted daughter, "Ellie!" To yourself, you hissed, "Fuckin' told you to stay together, fuck!"

The sounds of a squabble grew louder, Ellie's snarls ringing clear as you swiped the safety off. You followed her wet footprints, discovering an open door leading into the lodge's expansive living room - or perhaps, just one of them. You ducked when movement rushed in a flurry, catching sight of Ellie being wrangled to the ground; a stranger kneeling on her back. However, the worst sight was just beyond; before the vast windows showcasing Jackson's demise, one of the unknown forms moved aside to reveal your husband limp on the ground... Bloodied face seemingly staring out at you. His finger twitched, breathing staggered - and when his lips tugged, knew he saw you. Knew you'd always come for him. Even in a fucking blizzard, even when so worryingly outnumbered... But Joel wouldn't bet against you, no matter the circumstance.

He was overturned on his chest, blood pooling under him, immobile from his shattered leg, and there were at least four - no, no, five, you counted five - bodies inside. You barely remembered protocol, feeling something white-hot and feral burst in your chest upon hearing Ellie struggling and crying. Eyes cast back over Joel and you lifted your gun...

"JOEL!" Ellie screamed from the floor, whose fingers twitched with minimal recognition. "Joel! Joel! Joel, get up! Joel, FUCKING GET UP!"

However, one man roared at her, "Stupid fucking bitch!"

"No! No!" Two men struggled inside, distracting the others.

"Fuck you!" The man with a thin upper lip mustache shoved his companion aside. "The bitch fucking cut me!" You smirked in fleeting pride, amusement dropping when he stomped up to Ellie and swiftly kicked her in the ribs; causing her to choke on the air stolen from her lungs. You flinched at the sound of her cracking rib; Joel's eyes locked on you. The stranger lifted his foot again as if to stomp on her, but his friend - with sandy locks - intercepted him and shoved him back several feet. "I'll fucking kill her!"

"She ain't who we want!"

They all - minus Joel - missed the way you silently stepped in. A hunter, a solider, a mother and wife dead set on protecting her loved ones. You aimed at the most obvious threat after a handgun flashed in one of the men's hands as if to aim at Ellie.

You were well-aware of the dire situation but took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, bullet piercing directly through the back of the dark sandy-blonde head; sending a splatter of blood over the ebony haired man's face. "One," you counted.

There was no time as the man looked up at your voice; barrel aimed at him, trigger sounding in a boom. "Two," you counted.

From the shock of your appearance, Ellie managed to wriggle away from woman pinning her to the ground as your sight turned to the other two women across the room. When one lifted from her seat near the fireplace, eyes wide and a plead on her lips, your gun popped off another bullet despite her hands held in defense; catching her in the chest, sending the young girl to her back, choking on her own blood. "Three," you counted.

"MOM!" Ellie screamed, her having been disarmed as the girl with a bald head proved equal strength. Plus, with her ribs, Ellie wasn't much of a fight anyways.

You didn't need to think, gun turning towards her. "Get the fuck off my daughter, bitch," you snarled, the girl with a septum ring's eyes widening at the sight of your angry threat. Another bullet fired, piercing directly between her eyes. "Four," you counted, turning to the last assailant. She was on her feet, handgun pointed at you; but her hands trembled as Ellie scrambled for her gun then found her feet. You sidestepped in front of her, "No, no, all eyes on me. Joel? Joel? Hey, you alive? C'mon! Fuckin' show us you're alive! JOEL! If you're dead, I swear to God - "

He whimpered; relief flooding your system.

"Who the fuck are you?" The girl in a long-sleeve, grey Henley demanded; trying to step around Joel's legs to get a clear shot of Ellie - but you moved with her.

"Aht, aht! Stay right there, don't move." She narrowed her eyes as you asked, "Ellie? With me, baby girl?"

"I'm - I'm here," she wheezed, laying a single hand to your waist.

"You hurt?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hm," you growled, fingering the trigger.

"I asked, who the fuck are you!?" Abby roared, her desperation making her raw and unpredictable. You didn't want to rock this boat too much, not when the threat to your family was alive and real.

"Lookit, darlin', I don't think you're in the position to ask any questions," you warned. "Now... Step away from him. Nice and slow, please. I'm askin' you nicely - "

"No!" She snarled, gun turning to the back of Joel's head; heart leaping to your throat. "You take one step, either of you make a fucking move, and I'll blow his fucking brains out."

"And I'll blow yours," you warned evenly.

"Doesn't matter," she seethed, "'cause I would've done what I came here to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that? Kill an old man?"

She chuckled ruefully, "Exactly that."

"You wanna tell me why? C'mon, now. I don't wanna have to shoot you, kid, got a real long life ahead of you." When her hands shook with more definition, you snapped, "Hey! Hey! Eyes on me! Back the fuck away from him right now and maybe I'll let you live."

The room's occupants knew it was a boldfaced lie.

Abby panted, quickly glancing around the dead bodies that fell by your hand; giving you a single moment to note the shattered golf club left to the side of Joel, then to the state of him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what she'd done. "Y-You killed them," she whispered, glare turned back to you; tears in her eyes, upper lip snarled. "You killed them! Mel wasn't armed and you fucking shot her, you bitch!"

"Bet your ass, I did. Didn't even hesitate, now, did I? Y'all were hurtin' my husband."

"'Husband'?" She repeated, scoffing. "Of fucking course. You're who was on the radio, weren't you?"

"That's right. Now... I'll tell you only one more time. Back. The fuck. Away from him. Now, please, I ain't known for my patience!"

"Just fucking shoot her, Y/N!"

"No, Ellie," you growled, aim narrowing. She sobbed behind you, protected by your body; only able to look between the stranger and her adopted father.

"She did that to Joel! FUCKING LOOK AT HIM!"

"I know, I got eyes t'see, honey, but she's just a kid - like you, Ellie," you didn't shift your gaze from the bitch with a braid; knowing no matter what, she was going to die today. By your hand or Ellie's, you didn't know - nor care. You continued, "Tell me why, darlin'. Why're you doin' this? Huh? The fuck could he've done? Hey? C'mon, now! Answer me!"

"It doesn't fucking matter why, Y/N!"

But you were trying to play for time, well aware of the gun pointed at Joel that would only take a fraction of a second to fire, not a whole lot of pressure needed to trigger the bullet. There was a good chance that if you opened fire, she could easily take Joel out; the exact opposite of what you were trying to accomplish. You needed a fleeting opening, anything; just a single moment - a nanosecond - to make your move without jeopardizing Joel's life. Or Ellie's. Or yours, for that matter.

"It matters, Ellie!" You barked. "She's got a reason, I wanna hear it. C'mon, darlin', tell me why! Why're you doin' this?"

"He's a fucking monster," she trembled.

"All right, good, that's a start. What'd he do? Huh?"

"Does it matter?! You're both coldblooded murderers, you don't need any reason!"

"You got a point, yeah. But you obviously got your own. Tell me what that is."

Abby took an unsteady breath in, shaking her head as tears leaked in pathetic trails down her ruddy cheeks. "He killed him..."

"Who?"

"My father - he killed my father and 18 soldiers!"

You breathed, "Oh, yeah? When?"

"Five years ago," she grit her teeth. "In Salt Lake!"

"The hospital?"

She seethed, "He was an unarmed doctor! Shot dead like a fucking animal!"

Her gun straightened at Joel, making you chant, "Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah, I remember that, I remember. But you're negating from the fact that they had our daughter." Abby's eyes shifted over to Ellie behind your shoulder. "Hey, eyes on me! Look, I fucking promise you, kid, it wasn't in cold blood - we had real good reason. You with them? You a Firefly?"

"They're all gone, you dumb bitch! Didn't you hear?"

"You all that's left?"

"No," she seethed, "there's more of us... Many more in Seattle, but your little family won't get a chance to see them."

"Sound real certain of that."

Joel groaned from the bloody floor as if trying to call for you. Abby snarled, "I'm the one with a gun to your husband, remember? You fucking blind!?"

"Oh, I'm aware, darlin'. But I don't think you're gonna kill him."

"Why the fuck not? You just killed my friends!"

"'Cause he ain't who you want."

"Oh, yeah?" She scoffed.

"We left them nurses alive, I bet they're who told you 'bout us. Right? Am I right?" Abby's jaw steeled, only inclining her head in confirmation. "Yeah, that's right. You came all the way here from Seattle on a mission to kill him. But here's the thing, darlin', Joel ain't kill your daddy."

"I know he did!"

"He didn't pull the trigger! Your witnesses got it wrong, but that's okay - happens during fits of panic. They don't see the whole picture."

"He shot my father in the head! Like he was nothing! Stepped over him like he wasn't even there and walked out the fucking door! Why shouldn't I do the same!?"

"No, darlin'," you smirked, seeing the rage building in her eyes. Good. It's what you wanted - needed. "No, see, Joel didn't fire the kill shot. I did."

"You?"

"Me," you agreed, chuckling - hoping to blind her with anger from your amusement. "Yeah, I shot your daddy - and just like your li'l friends, I ain't hesitate then, neither. What? You look shocked... You surprised I had the gull to do it? I'll tell you somethin' else, darlin', I didn't even look at him - " Abby cracked with a sob and it was the opening you needed. "C'mon, darlin', take your best shot. Or would you prefer I just shoot you now? Can reunite you with dearest daddy real easy."

The girl laughed, arm shifting a fraction as if debating turning her gun on you, "Like you could make the fucking shot, you old hag - "

Your gun recoiled slightly from being fired, striking Abby in the head; and you counted, "Five." Quickly, you shoved the weapon into the holster on your hip, sprinting across the room to where Joel was somehow still breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, baby, hey," you slid on your knees, Ellie charging in a limp after you, "you still with us? Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. C'mon, Joel! Gotta hang on for me, all right? I-I know you endured so much, baby, but hang on a little longer. Please!"

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, making you heave a whimper. "Joel? Joel," Ellie sniffled from her knees at your side, "hey, y-you gotta get up. C'mon, get up - "

"No, no, not yet," you prevented, nodding to the shattered golf club. "Took a fuckin' beatin', Ellie, probably has internal bleedin'. We move him, might make it worse."

"Well, what the fuck do we do, Y/N!?"

"We do nothing - you probably got broken ribs, baby. Fuck," you breathed, looking around the room - something catching your attention. "All right, all right - shit, hang on, stay with him."

"Y/N?" Ellie worried as you found your feet; but her eyes drifted to the movement on the floor. The unarmed girl, Mel, was trying to army crawl through her own blood, sobbing when you stood over her.

"Hey!" You barked, flipping her onto her back, demanding, "Y'all brought med supplies? Right? RIGHT!?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"You tell me true, doll, I'll help yah."

"Y-You - bitch."

"All right, I'll find it myself," you scoffed, gun back in hand, aiming at her forehead, and firing once. "What were you? Four? No, no, three."

"Y/N!" Ellie sobbed, "He's got a fever!"

"Hang on, Ellie, I got it," you rushed, kneeling at one of the packs - noting the embroidered wolf. There was no questioning it, overturning the pack and rummaging through the contents. Not finding what you needed, you did the same to a second pack; then a third, gasping when it was full of medical supplies. You shifted through it before noting another body in the room right next door. "Shit - Ellie!?"

"What?" She sobbed over Joel.

"Got another body!" It was quiet as you stood with your gun in hand again, aimed at the body before dropping it. "Oh, fuck! It's Dina!"

"WHAT?"

You knelt at her side, checking her pulse and sighing with relief. "S-She's alive! Just knocked out. I got her!" Holstering your gun once more, you grunted and took hold of her wrists to tug the girl into the main room. "All right, honey, just - fuck, stay there, be back for yah." You returned to the medical supplies, tears leaking without consent. "Ellie, here - catch!" Using the hardwood floor to your advantage, you slid supplies her way; not bothering to check if she caught them all or not.

"What do I do?" Ellie whimpered.

"Get over here and check Dina, I got Joel," you scampered across the floor; pair of you switching places. "Hey, hey, do me a favor - get on the radio, get ahold of fucking anyone. You hear me? Use channel 7 to try to get Jesse..." You prayed the lad was smart enough to tune in on the private channel you and Joel used after separating. "All right, all right," you sniffled, caressing your husband's bloody cheek, "baby, hey, hey, can you hear me? Just - Just squeeze my hand, honey, c'mon." When his broken hand squeezed yours, making you sigh, "All right, good, hey, you're - you're gonna be all right. I gotcha, baby, just, um, just hang on for me. Okay? Can you do that?" He squeezed again. "Good boy."

Perhaps his lips twitched in amusement, perhaps not. You didn't notice either way, sorting the supplies - discovering a half-used vial of milky white substance.

"Fucking Propofol? The fuck they doin' with this?" You muttered to yourself, finding a clean needle and drawing it into the syringe.

"What're you doing?" Ellie sobbed, "Y/N? What is that?"

"Tryna save him, Ellie! Radio in! C'mon, baby, I know you're scared - I know that was fucking scary. But I need you to be brave for me right now, Ellie, please. Okay? I need fucking help! Get on the airwaves, all right? Radio anybody!"

"Right, okay, yeah," she sniffled, doing as you told from Dina's side. "Jackson? Jackson, come in!" But there was no answer. So, she switched channels, "Jesse!? Jesse, please, it's Ellie - "

"Ellie? Ellie!"

"Jesse!"

"Where are you!?"

"A-At a lodge! Some lodge, halfway up the mountain! We found Joel and Dina, but w-w-we need help! Like, fucking now!"

"I'm five out!"

You whispered, "I'm so sorry, Joel, I gotta turn you over, okay? I gotta see..." Biting your tongue, you braced Joel and turned him over, whimpering when he hollered in unfiltered pain. "Oh, I know, I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I know, baby, I know, but I gotta see." You quickly shed your outer coat and bundled it under his head, "You're gonna be okay, hear me? You just gotta hang on f'me, I'm gonna fix this. I'm so sorry, I know," you repeated as you were forced to shred his shirt and reveal the blackening marks on his torso; some turning sickly blue, indicating the internal damage. "Fuck! Okay, okay, all right... I-I can fix this, fuck me, how do I fix this?"

"Y-Y-Y/N..."

"I know, Joel, okay? I know - "

"Go," he croaked, "gotta leave me."

"Fat fucking chance," you snarled.

"'M not makin' it," he whispered, "but you still can."

"I'm not leaving you! You're gonna be okay, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Go, baby," he wheezed, delirium setting in, "take... Take care... Of-of our girl..."

"Fuck that, we're both gonna do that. You understand? Joel, you stay alive! El-Ellie? Hey, h-how's Dina?"

"Waking up, I think."

"Good - hey, here, here," you snatched up a canister and slid it across the floor. "Wave that under her nose, babe, it's smelling salts. Might help her come-to faster."

"Okay, yeah," Ellie sniffled, doing as you bid.

"All right, hey, I-I can't do shit for Joel here - we gotta get him back to Jackson!"

"How?"

"Shit," you sniffled, shaking your head, "I-I don't know. His leg, okay, I can - I can splint his leg - oh, fuck me."

"What?"

You examined the wound between tattered bits of denim, "Looks like they blew his fucking knee out with a shotgun, Goddamnit." Ellie whimpered as you scanned the room, movement in the snow through the window catching your attention. "Jesse's here - "

"What do we do?"

"We need help," you nodded, "yeah, yeah, so... We're gonna send Jesse back to Jackson for aid."

"What about us?"

"We stay here - keep Joel warm. Remember? After the university?"

"Yeah," sniffled Ellie. "Y-Y/N, I can't lose him."

"Me neither, baby, so we're gonna help him, right?"

"Do you know how?"

"I'm workin' on it," you whispered, looking around the room.

"Y/N!? ELLIE!?"

"UP HERE!" You bellowed through the open door, stumbling to your feet. With a grunt, you smashed a wooden chair to the ground; shattering it to pieces and collecting viable planks of wood. "Okay, okay, okay," you rambled, returning to Joel's side, "hey, Joel, baby, I-I gotta splint your leg. Okay? Oh, this is gonna fucking hurt, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, "don't. Just... Go..."

You glared and shook your head, knowing your next move was a risky one. "Fuck that, you and I go out together. All right, I got an idea. Gonna put you to sleep, honey, but it'll be okay. Hear me?" You hovered over his swollen, bleeding face, "You're gonna be okay, I promise, you'll wake up. Just gotta get you outta pain - then we'll get you home. Okay?"

"Baby," he slurred, "please."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know, but just trust me." Joel's hand twitched and you snatched it in yours, lifting to your lips and pressed a series of kisses to it. "Please, Joel, I need you to fucking survive. You don't get to leave me, I-I need you. Hear me? Okay? Just trust me, I'm gonna get you help. Endure and Survive, right? Remember? Endure and Survive, Joel!"

He nodded as best he could, eyes fluttering as Jesse came sprinting into the room. "Holy... Shit..." He paused to take in the sight of fresh carnage. "What the fuck happened?"

Ellie sobbed over Dina, who was finally waking; and you were pressing the needle to Joel's vein and administering the anesthesia. "You're gonna be okay, baby, I promise, I swear, can't leave me - not like this. You're gonna wake up," you whispered to him, watching as his eyes fully shut and he went slack with slumber. "Jesse! Get over here, man, I need help!"

"What the fuck happened?" He repeated, jogging across the floor while dropping his pack - shoes squeaking in halt when he caught sight of Joel's injuries. "Oh, my fucking God - "

"Help me splint his leg, please! Fuckin' please! C'mon, we don't have time!"

"Right, okay."

Together, you and Jesse constructed a splint out of the chair debris and a torn sheet from the other room. You knotted it where you could, watching Joel's face for signs of pain - but he didn't twitch, only breathed shallowly. Your eyes met the lad's and admitted, "I-I don't know what to do next. How do we get him back to Jackson, Jesse, please?"

"We ride like hell," Jesse answered.

"He shouldn't be upright and bouncing around!"

"We got another choice? I can ride back, but time's workin' against him. We could try to build a sled, but - "

"We search the house first and if there's nothing, he rides with me. Luxor and I are fastest."

"There we go," he agreed, already rocketing to his feet.

"Ellie! Watch them!" You commanded as you and Jesse set out to ransack the lodge for anything that you might use to tote Joel. By stroke of fucking luck, in the basement, you found what the previous owner's kids must've used to skate down the icy hillside; figuring it was good enough to use now. After locating Jesse, the pair of you assembled the shed and tug ropes behind Luxor and used found pillows and blankets to line it; then rushing back inside.

"We can both get him down the stairs," Jesse panted.

"We're gonna have to."

"I can help," Ellie stood, Dina leaning against the wall as she regained her strength.

"Fuck it," you breathed, waving her towards Joel, "let's go!"

It wasn't easy; Joel being a grown man of pure muscle and the three of you with only minimal strength. Yet your adrenaline made you feel like Bruce Banner; letting Ellie support his shattered, shot leg out straight as you and Jesse upheld his torso. Down the stairs and out the door, you drug Joel into the sled and immediately covered him with the blankets as Jesse went back for Dina. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough - forced to leave Joel to help Ellie into Dewey's saddle.

"Wait, wait, wait - "

"Please, Ellie, don't fucking fight me, you're injured, baby, you ride with Jesse. Dina'll be all right, I promise - but we gotta go. Now, okay? Before the blizzard kicks up again."

Ellie nodded through her tears as the other two finally made it back. You explained to Jesse the plan and helped Dina into Butterscotch's saddle, ensuring her balance before telling them to get going. Leaving everything else behind including five corpses, you checked on Joel to make sure he was still breathing; kissing his forehead and muttering promises and apologies as you took your place at Luxor's side.

With a heavy sniffle, you begged the horse, "Don't fail me now, buddy, we gotta save him. C'mon - nice and easy, right? Together... Let's go."

You navigated the mountain on foot, keeping Luxor at an even pace while simultaneously ensuring Joel didn't slide away or topple over. It was frustrating to go so slow, but necessary; and the moment you were on level ground, doubled back to cover Joel's head before hoisting yourself into the saddle and spurred Luxor forward.

Snow was kicked up over Joel, but you had wrapped him tightly for protection; soon passing Jesse, Ellie, and Dina to gallop for the smoking town in the distance.

With shot nerves, you navigated through the makeshift hospital of Jackson; steaming mug of coffee in hand as your feet shuffled down the hall to the last door on the right. A voice called your name, making you pause and look back to spy Jesse approaching you with three wrapped plates stacked on top of one another.

"What's that?"

"Figured y'all hadn't eaten today," he eased.

"Hm."

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just fucking dandy, honey. You?"

Jesse frowned, "How's Joel?"

"Still asleep."

"You know, it's been two weeks..."

"What's your fucking point?"

"That you need a decent night's sleep - Ellie and Dina, too."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, kid, thanks."

Jesse frowned, "We're just worried about'cha."

"Yeah? Well, I'm worried I killed my fucking husband 'cause he won't wake up. Guess we're all worried, huh?"

"Y/N," he sighed. "You haven't left his room since we got back. You can't just stop taking care of yourself, Joel's gonna need yah to help him - gotta have your strength."

"I'm fine."

"That why you look like fucking shit?"

"Don't push me, kid."

Jesse sighed, "Fine, but you gotta eat."

"I'm good," you held up your mug.

"Can't sustain yourself on fucking coffee. C'mon, I brought you all a plate."

"That's real nice of yah, thank you," you accepted the balanced to-go plates in your one hand; leaning them to your chest to keep hold.

"Just... Take it easy on yourself, okay? There's no way you could've known this would happen - "

"That's the thing, Jesse," you warbled softly, "I knew. He was beat t'hell, I knew the Propofol might've been too much, that he might not wake up... But the worst part? I promised him he would. I fucking lied to my husband and killed him in the same breath - "

"He's still breathing," Jesse snapped.

"Fine, then I put him in a coma. That better?"

Before he could retort, the last door on the right ripped open and Dina came toppling out, shouting your name. When she saw you just feet away, she sobbed, "He's awake!"

Three full plates and a mug of coffee shattered on the ground as you nearly tripped over yourself to race into the room. Inside, there was a single bed with a plethora of different machines all whirling and beeping obnoxiously; but there was Ellie, sat bedside, sobbing into Joel's tubed chest. "Hey, hey, hey, what's - "

"He's awake! Y/N, he's awake!" She wailed, forcing herself to lift up and reveal Joel's alert face.

"Holy shit," you heaved, eyes wide and chest hollow. "J-Joel?"

"Hey, baby," he croaked, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

In earnest shock, not even noticing Dina and Jesse behind you, your breathing turned choppy, "Oh, my God, Joel! Y-You're awake, Jesus fucking Christ!"

"C'mere," he mumbled, lips sticking together as Ellie removed herself as if to make room for you.

"No, no, uh," you sniffled, gesturing at Ellie, "you stay put, baby girl, I-I-I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?"

"To find Tommy," you backed up two steps; chest heavy and ready to cave in.

"I can do that - "

"I got it, kid, y'all keep him company f'me," you assured Dina, tears streaming as you stumbled out of the room.

"Hey!" Jesse followed you into the hall, door slamming shut. "Hey, Y/N! What the fuck was that?" But Jesse slowed when you collapsed into the wall, using it to keep upright as you tried to keep walking forward; slowly tripping over your feet and crashing to still-bruised knees. "Oh, my God, hey, Y/N. Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on? You okay?" He worried, lowering to the floor. Noting the way your chest heaved up and down and how your breathing was rapidly shrill, he calmed, "You're okay, Y/N, hey, just breathe. You're panicking, you just - just focus on breathing. Hey, you're okay, you're not alone."

"H-He's alive," you managed breathed gasps. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive. I-I didn't - he woke up, I ain't kill him."

"No, you didn't," Jesse chuckled in disbelief. "You saved his life, Y/N, just breathe. You're okay."

"I-I - "

"No, I know, but you just need to breathe f'me." You nodded and watched him, following his direction as he breathed with you - in and out, in and out, in and out. "All right, good, that's real good - just breathe with me. Good girl, c'mon, in, two, three, four; and out, two, three, four; in, two, three..."

The door opened again, Dina peaking out to discover the sight; catching Jesse's eye. He nodded with meaning, making the girl double back to grab Ellie; leaving you on the floor with the young man instructing your breathing. When the two girls exited, Ellie worriedly rushed for your side, questioning your name as she knelt, "What's happening? What's wrong? Are you okay? Hey! Oh, my God, talk to me, Ma!"

"She's having a panic attack," Jesse relaid, not commenting on her referal to you as something remotely motherly. "She's all right. Good, Y/N, that's real good - just breathe. Hey, look at me, look at me," he waited until your eyes lifted, "you're okay, I swear to you. Joel's alive, he's okay, he's awake - you didn't kill him, didn't put him in a coma. So, c'mon... You head back in, okay? Go see your husband, I'll get Tommy."

You sniffled and nodded, Ellie remaining in place as Jesse slowly got to his feet. "We got her," Dina assured, finally making him turn to head off. "Y/N? Hey," she squatted before you, "Joel's askin' for yah. Wanna head back in?"

"Yeah, yeah," you rambled, "I-I - yeah, ne-need t'see him. Need t'see him alive. J-Just needed - just needed a second. 'M sorry - "

"No, it's okay, you're good," nodded Ellie, "think you can stand?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon, I gotcha," she hushed, taking up your arm to help you clamber up the wall on trembling legs. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Right," she sighed. "Hey, c'mon, let's go in, he wants yah... I'm right here with you, I'm right here. We're all okay... You, me, Joel, Dina, we're okay, Ma, we're all okay - all alive."

"Y-You...?" Your eyes widened, holding onto her arms tightly for support. "Did you call me...? An-And back at the lodge, you did then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Ellie shrugged as Dina giggled behind her hand, "I mean, is that okay? I don't have to call you - "

"No, no, no. It's so fucking okay, baby girl, good God," you gasped, yanking her into your embrace. In her ear, you sniffled, "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just - I didn't know you felt okay with that - "

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, or, uh, I-I guess, felt ready to say it."

"Gonna call Joel 'Dad' now or somethin'?"

"Woah, woah, woah," she chuckled, gazing up at you in wonder and gently reaching out to wipe your tear tracks as she's seen your husband do, "one step at a time. All right? Gotta see Joel first, everything else second. C'mon, now you just gotta put one foot in front of the other..." She encouraged you away from the wall, "There you go, you're okay. Now, deep breath... You good?"

"I'm okay."

"Good, all right. I got you, just... Open the door..."

As you reentered the room, Ellie and Dina hung back to allow your reunion to occur in privacy. You didn't notice, preoccupied by the sight before you; Joel awake and seemingly alert, his lips pulled on one side in a smirk. Despite the healing disfigurement, he was still the handsome, rugged, inherently and fiercely protective guy you married all them years ago. You hated the sight, but felt overwhelming relief he was awake, aware, looking at you with love, adoration, impression.

"Hey, there she is," he rumbled in greeting, haggard voice making you snap out of it to snatch up the cup of water on his bedside stand. "Where'd you - "

"No, no, hey, don't," you whimpered, bringing the lip of the cup to him, one hand around the base of his head, "just drink first, Joel, please."

Joel's gaze didn't tear from you as he accepted the water, choking minimally from the action he hadn't done by himself in two+ weeks. You determined what was enough, lowering the cup but keeping your one hand on the back of his head; twisting to set the cup aside before quietly turning back to him. "C'mere, baby," he whispered, casted hand twitching to pat his fingers beside him with indication. When your mouth opened to protest, he begged, "Y/N, please." So, you eased down beside him softly, careful not to jostle his injuries - but forced to take in the sight of his slowly-healing face. "Why'd you run? Not happy t'see me?"

Shaking your head, you admitted, "On the contrary, so Goddamn happy and relieved, I panicked for a second."

"Why?"

You sniffled, the tears cold against your dry cheeks, "Thought you weren't gonna... I mean, you were... Baby, I did this. I-I'm so sorry - "

"The fuck you mean? You saved me, sugar."

"No, you weren't waking up - I-I put you in a fucking coma - "

"That wasn't you."

"I took a risk with the anesthesia. I knew your injuries might've been too much, that too much damage was done and if I put you t'sleep, and you might not wake up, b-but I just - you were in so much pain and we had to get you back if you - "

"Hey, hey, hey," his fingers hooked around yours in an effort to take your hand. "Baby... You saved me. Ellie and Dina told me all what happened."

"They shouldn't've."

"I asked."

You sighed, shaking your head, "Joel, I..."

"Talk to me, baby, please."

Meeting his eyes again, you whimpered, "I didn't think you were gonna make it. That girl - Abby? Gabby? Whatever, she, uh, she... She used a golf club. You were more than fucked up, I thought you weren't gonna wake up - I mean, by all means, you shouldn't've - "

"But I did," he comforted, "because of you."

You sniffled again, "Don't say it like that, please. I just - I'm so fucking relieved you're awake. I'm sorry, Joel, I should've got there sooner."

"You got there just in time."

"Almost didn't."

"From what I remember, saved Ellie and I - again."

You shrugged, "I wasn't gonna lose you, either of you. You two are everything t'me that I just reacted, I didn't have t'think. I was so worried, but she - she had a gun at you, I had to stall for time."

"You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Then why do I feel so fucking guilty?"

"You shouldn't - you're a Goddamn hero."

"Don't feel like one."

"Maybe you will when I get up and movin'. Get us back to normal, right?"

"Joel, that ain't happenin' for a long time, baby," you informed quietly, glancing at his leg. His gaze followed, sighing deeply at the bulging knee the Jackson doctors managed to save under a warm blanket. "She had a shotgun..."

"I remember."

You winced, "You should get some rest - I'll-I'll grab the doctor - "

"Don't you dare leave me," he snapped, fingers lacing tightly with yours. "Just - c'mere, please, lemme feel you."

"Fuck no," you refused, "you're still healing and there's a limited amount of pain meds. She got you pretty good, Joel, you're real fragile."

"Enough that I can't hold my wife?"

"Enough that you can't hold your wife," you chuckled dryly. "But, um... I can sit here. I can stay - I'll stay. I'm sorry I left, I just couldn't believe after these weeks, you're awake. Made my heart feel... I don't even know - "

He sighed gently, just staring at you. "It's okay, baby, I understand. Know, you were the last thing I saw... But you look like hell right now, darlin', the fuck happened?"

"Haven't slept in weeks."

"You fuckin' eat?"

"When I remembered. Dina brings me most meals."

"Y/N Miller."

"I was just so worried," you whimpered, tears drowning you. "I worried you weren't gonna wake up, that I'd lose you at any moment. I wanted t'be here, just in case... I... Joel, I just..."

"I know, baby. Ellie said you haven't left this whole time. Hey," he breathed, earning your red-rimmed attention. "Need to thank you, sugar. F-For savin' us, savin' me."

You nodded, "Saved my ass plenty of times, now we're even."

"I heard you, you know? I heard you the whole time, it was all I could hang onto. But I heard you tell Abby you shot her father...? Risky move."

"I needed her to focus on anything other than you. She could've shot you, I wouldn't've been able to do anything and I needed to - I needed you to-to-to - "

"Endure and Survive?"

"Yeah, exactly. So, I lied, told her what I thought would piss her off enough to, you know, take the heat off yah."

Joel's lips twitched at the side again, "My smart fuckin' girl."

"Selfish girl, more like."

"How's that?"

You shrugged, "Didn't wanna be without you, Joel, I can't do this without yah. I need you, Joel, and I... I couldn't let her kill you. Bad enough I got there too late and she beat the shit outta you."

Joel's voice cracked with emotion, "It's not selfish, Y/N."

"No?"

"Nah, baby. The feelin's so fuckin' mutual, 'cause I need'jah, too, sweetheart, and I'll be damned to do this without you, either. You and I, we're gonna grow old - well, older, together, surrounded by our family, all of Tommy and Maria's kids - Ellie and Dina, too. We ain't gonna go out like that, we get t'die like we lived. Together."

"Yeah?"

"I promise," he swallowed tightly, eyes crinkling as he winced. "Can't get rid of me, baby, not that easily."

"Fuck you," you scoffed, "that wasn't easy, not t'see, not t'watch, not t'fight against. It was so fucking hard - I can't ever go through that kinda shit again. Hear me? Never again, Joel, I can't handle it - "

"Nah, nah, nah, never again, baby. I promise. I-I'll talk to Tommy, we're done with patrols - "

"No, you're fucking done," you snipped. "I'll earn both our keep, but you're done, Joel, I can't fucking go through that shit again."

"What if something like that happens to you - "

"I killed them all. There's nobody left that would come for us."

Joel's eyes flashed, "There's those in Seattle."

Your head shook, "Doubt they'd give enough of a fuck to avenge those bastards."

"We don't know that. So... So why don't we both retire, baby? C'mon, like we always said. You think you can't handle that again? Imagine how it'd fucking feel to learn something happened to you and I wasn't there to protect yah. Please, Y/N, we both retire - we don't run that risk no more."

"All right, deal," you agreed through your tears, leaning over him to hold his cheek and press several kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Fucking deal, all right, yeah - "

"Honey? You missed."

"Nah, you're still healing - "

"A kiss ain't gonna hurt nothing," he grunted. "C'mere, please. Don't make me beg... Besos, besos, besos." With a small, watery chuckle, you obliged and pecked his pouting lips - earning another groan. "That's not what I meant - mh!" You cut him off by pressing a prolonged kiss against him, careful not to press too hard and reopen his split lip. He hummed in content, free hand occupied by only an IV lifting to caress the back of your head in an effort to keep you in place. This time, when you pulled back, he mumbled, "Never again, sweetheart."

"Never again," you agreed softly, gently petting a salted curl from his forehead; hand drifting to gently trace the contours of his healing yellowing-skin. "I love you so fucking much, Joel. Don't do that to me again."

"I love you, too, darlin'. Never again - we're done. I swear, we're fucking done with all that."

"Good," you whimpered, glancing back to the usual seat you'd claimed the past couple weeks as you watched over him. "All right, hey," with a sniffle, you slowly lifted from his bed, "Jesse went to get Tommy, but you get some rest, all right?"

"Fuck that, been resting long enough. Just wanna be here with you, baby."

"Got a helluva long recovery ahead of yah, gonna need your strength."

"Think I'll walk again?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it - but we'll work on it together. You'll be okay... That, I can promise."

Joel nodded with a gentle sigh, watching you maneuver back into the armchair Dina had pushed into his room for you. He didn't let go of your fingers, eyes silently watching you as if to ensure you were there - but you did the same. After seeing him on the brink of death, you feared you couldn't look away from his living, breathing form ever again. Quietly, he garbled, "Don't leave."

"Never, baby. I'm right here, I gotcha."

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

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poisonofthepaint · 19 hours ago

Text

thinking of you

jack broke up with you because he said you needed someone younger. yet, he's still offended when he hears you're going on a date with someone else. you show up to his apartment to set the record straight.

cw: MDNI, make up sex to the max, pinv, no protection, kind of angsty but like not really, reader is independent and sort of snappy (for good reason), nipple sucking, pet names (angel, honey, sweetheart), not sure what else lmk if you see anything!

a/n: i wrote this off two beers so i'm gonna say i proofread it, but who knows...

wc: 2k

Jack didn't get pissed off. Sure, he would get mildly annoyed. He could snap. But he was never filled with unbridled rage. He could contain himself, calm himself down. He learned it in the military. He knew you couldn’t fight as well if you were angry, it clouded your judgement too much, you have to keep, at least a little bit, of a level head.

But tonight, Jack was pissed off. Robby had told him you had a date tonight. He told Jack over text, saying he, ‘figured he should know.” Jack couldn’t decide if he was thankful for the message or not.

That is what he said to you, when it ended. That you needed someone your own age. That you needed to get out there and act your age. It wasn’t good to work with someone and date them, act older than you need to. It was self-defense, he later realized. He was insecure about himself, and what he could or could not give you, so he ended it. He couldn’t believe you had listened to his incoherent ramblings. What he said made no sense, and he knew that now, but he also knew he had to take a step back and leave you the hell alone. He had fucked up, that was for sure. Begging for you back, when you had no reason to come back, would be even more fucked up.

He was regretting that mentality right now, all he wanted to do was call you. To tell you to come home. To come back to him. That guy didn’t know how to treat you, he didn’t know what you needed. He was only there to get in your pants. You were far too fucking intelligent for some immature douchebag. Jack knew what you needed, he was the only one who knew how to treat you right. He would give anything for you. This kid would not. Jack didn’t even need to know his name to know that.

Jack’s finger hovered over the call button on your contact. He tried to think of some emergency to get you to come see him instead of being on that date. But he couldn’t think of anything. There was no reason, fake or real, why you shouldn’t be on that date.

He sighs, puts down his phone, sits in his recliner. His cushy chair, one of the only things he has splurged on in his life, faces the window, which overlooks the city. The buildings sparkle at him. It’s around seven, usually he’d be at work by now, but it was his day off. He wishes it wasn’t, he wishes that he had something to distract him. He thinks about grabbing his go bag, thinks about changing into what he wears under his scrubs and telling Shen and Ellis to just leave him the hell alone and let him work. But, he hears you in the back of his head, telling him to slow down, telling him to wait a moment, to sit with what he’s thinking instead of shoving it down.

So that’s what he does. He sits. And he thinks. And he fucking prays to whoever is listening. That you’re safe. That you’re having an okay time. That maybe you’ll come back. Even though he’s a piece of shit. Even though he’s the one who told you to leave. You’re just following his orders, after all.

Three small, basically unhearable, knocks strike his door. He pushes off his chair with a sigh, thankful he didn’t take off his prosthetic yet. He figures it’s a neighbor, he lives by a lot of older women who tend to check up on him.

He opens the door with a force, but his eyes get heavy when he realizes it’s you standing there.

“Did he fucking hurt you?” Jack thunders.

“What? How do you even know where I was?”

“Answer me.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me. He just–”

“You’re scaring me a bit, sweetheart.”

You let out a long breath, Jack has both of his hands on your shoulders, giving you the eye exam of a lifetime.

“He didn’t hurt me, he’s just not you. He’s too, spritely. Too eager. I don’t know.”

Jack fights a smile, he bites the inside of his cheek. “No one is me.”

“Not the time to be fucking cocky, Jack. We need to seriously talk.”

The smile he was fighting fades from his face. He becomes pale, his heart is tachy.

“You fucked me up real good. You told me I was wrong about something that felt so right–” you say, crossing your arms and staring. You’ve entered the apartment at this point. You stand at the island in the kitchen.

He cuts you off. “I was wrong. I’m wrong. You’re what I need. I need you more than I need work, and I’ve never said that about anything.”

Jack swipes a hand over his face, crossing the room to come stand in front of you. “I was scared, I was being a fucking pussy. Worrying about what people would think, worrying about you.”

“I don’t need anyone to worry about me.” you state firmly.

“I know that. I know that. Please, give it another go with me. I won’t fuck it up. I won’t. I see what it’s like now. I see it. I hear it. Loud and clear.” he’s inches from your face, holding you at your hips.

You don’t move just yet. Your eyes scan his, you're used to his eye contact by now. You’re searching for any signs of lying, any signs of unseriousness, but there isn’t any. Jack gives you a sharp nod. His eyes are so sharp, you think that they could cut daggers into yours.

You swiftly nod back, just once. Up and down. And that’s all it takes.

Jack’s lips are on yours before you can inhale. All teeth and tongue, he wastes no time showing you how much he missed you. The grip at your hips tightens, and he pulls you closer to him, so that your hips grind against his. So that your stomach can feel his abs through the worn gray cotton t-shirt he has on. You try not to notice that it’s the shirt you would sleep in when you slept over, but you do. Because he’s a sentimental man, because he’s obviously been punishing himself with his memories of you.

He comes up for air and shakes his head at you. “Thank you.” he kisses you again.

“Thank me?” you query.

“Thank you for coming back. You know what I need.”

“You know what I need. I never had to fucking ask for anything. You just knew. Before I did.” you admit.

“You know me too. You know me better than anyone does, angel.”

You pull his face back to yours. Eager to feel his lips after a long five months.

He grabs your hips again, hoisting you up onto him. You wrap around his midsection. The friction from your jeans rubs you just right and you moan into Jack.

“Tell me more,” is all he says in response.

You groan. “I didn’t miss your old man jokes.”

“Yes you did, that’s why you’re here.”

He lays you back in the bed and doesn’t give you a chance to respond. The kisses become more fervent as he pushes the gym shorts off of himself. You make quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down, along with your underwear.

You and Jack didn’t need to talk it through any more. You were on the same page. You just understood it. You two could go hours without speaking, and still say a million words to each other.

It’s like at work, all you had to do was shoot him a look and he understood. When a patient wasn’t going to make it, when something suspicious was going on, when something hysterical was going on, but you couldn’t laugh. You didn’t need words to convey how you were feeling. And if your eyes weren’t going to tell him tonight, your cunt definitely was. You could feel yourself dripping onto his sheets.

“I don’t think I have any condoms. I–” Jack’s eyes dance around his minimalistic bedroom.

“I don’t care. I’m clean, you’re clean. Please, I need it.”

Jack doesn’t need to be told twice. He lines himself up, groans at the wet spot on the bed. And then he goes in. One long, deep, thrust. He bottoms out. You throw your head back onto the pillows before you’re reminded of his ‘thing’. Your eyes snap up at him and he grins. A cheshire smile. One that you couldn’t forget if you tried.

His cock curves inside you like you’re two puzzle pieces. You clench around him until he has to ask you to let up.

He sets his pace. Long, deep, hard. Jack wasn’t one to fuck fast. He needed to enjoy it. To soak it all in. To feel you, to remember every inch of your walls. He wanted to always remember each individual fuck. What sets them apart? How did you look when you came this time versus the other fifty times? He once told you he thought about starting a sex journal so he could become the best at getting you off.

Jack has about zero thoughts in his head that don’t surround around making you finish. He wants it like a prisoner wants an escape. He feels like he just saw his parole officer and they set him free, or put him on house arrest, he’s sure he’s not completely out of the dog house, but none of that matters to him now.

He’s inside you, and you’re making the noises he’s dreamt about every night since you left. “That’s it, pretty girl. That’s it.”

You clench again, hard. “I wanna– fuck– be on top.”

He doesn’t respond, just flips you over.

You straddle his waist and he pulls you in closer, sucking on your pert nipple. Jack guides your hips up and down before giving into what he really wants to do.

Instead of moving you, he holds you still, opting to drive his cock up into you. You hiss, make a noise between a groan and a squeal. You bury your head into his shoulder and it moves you impossibly closer to him.

He shifts so that one arm has a hold of your waist. The other comes between your two bodies, searching for your clit. He finds it, without looking, and rubs sharp circles that follow his pace on it. Your head flies back.

“Fuck I’m—”

“Yup, me too, honey. C’mon, let me have it. Let it all go.”

You gasp at the feeling. It rushes out of you almost as soon as you recognize the tight knot in your stomach. You can’t control your noises anymore, and neither can Jack.

He comes with you, burying his cock into your heat. He groans, over and over, and then pants.

You hum against him, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He moves so he can place a kiss on yours, a sweet one, to tell you you’re okay.

Neither of you make any effort to move, pleased to stay intertwined after being separated.

“What was his name?”

“Here come the questions. Can’t you let me enjoy this?”

“Never,” Jack quips. He shoots you a look, waiting for his answer.

“His name is Jack.”

His face turns pale, all jokes leave his brain, “You went on a date with someone who has my name?”

“I thought it would make the transition easier! I was hoping you wouldn’t ask!” you shake your head in shame.

“How old was he?”

“Oh my god. That I am not answering. It doesn’t matter. The whole time I just thought about you, and your bullshit excuses for ending it. Telling me I need someone younger, c’mon.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Forgotten. We’re here now. Just don’t ever fucking do it again. I hate working day shift.” your face lights up. “Is that how you found out? Did Robby say something to you?”

Your mouth falls open at Jack’s cackling.

“So old men gossip too, got it. This is fucked.”

Jack shakes his head at you, calms himself down. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”

“You don’t have to. I know.”

#jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x reader #jack abbot smut #jack abbot #jack abbot fanfic #the pitt fanfiction #jack ⋆⁺₊❅. ㅤ

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alientitty · 3 days ago

Text

gofundme literally refunds donations to campaigns found to be scams and is constantly halting the fundraisers of actual people trying to escape, which you can see constantly from the bloggers on this site organizing to help the real prople they are in contact with. (pretty sure several of the campaigns mentioned here have been vetted and verified as well...) why are people using the same stock phrasing? because they dont know english well and are trying to copy what works! tons of verified fundraising blogs are constantly being deactivated and people not used to this site or language are trying to get the word out however they can. people have multiple blogs for themselves or multiple family members, etc..

i also find it an interesting choice to generalize here about simply the practice of copying wording and sending anons rather than giving evidence for specific scams AND pointing out examples of LEGITIMATE fundraisers which ARE ON THIS SITE. the last time rhetoric like this was spreading it was absolutely disastrous for palestinians and their supporters on here and i think it's irresponsible at best to post like this.

are you really so protective over the possibility of losing $10 here and there that you'd hurt the chances of someone facing genocide?? other people in the notes are chomping at the bit to say no one online can actually be from gaza as though people are not fighting and struggling for internet access to survive while the world sits and watches them die

it can be overwhelming because so many people need help, so im not saying you're morally obligated to answer every ask you get (some people choose to help just one oe a few or hey you can ignore all the posts and messages if you want!), or that there aren't people trying to take advantage of your generosity, but saying that everyone using the same phrases is scamming??? when it's a bunch of people for whom english is not their first language and they don't know the etiquette of this site? god forbid you're ever facing genocide and have to rely on the sympathy of callous strangers to survive constant bombings

I miss when I would get Tumblr asks that actually said things and weren't just digital panhandling scams.

#anyone mad ive been sharing more of the fundraisers in my inbox lately just fucking block me then cuz jesus christ.

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pandacherryblossoms · 3 days ago

Text

𐙚 Brat Tamer - Stray Kids 𐙚

Request

Genre: Smut MDNI 18+

Warnings: NSFW content, Power play, Teasing, Rough handling, Light choking, Possessiveness, Manipulation, edging, Physical restraint, Dom & Sub themes, Oral references, Slight voyeurism

Bang Chan

You’d been pushing him all night.

Eye rolls. Smirking. Ignoring him when he spoke. Sitting in his lap just to get up again with that innocent look he hated. You wanted to get under his skin. You wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t back down.

And now you were about to find out.

He doesn’t say a word when he corners you in the hallway. Just pins you to the wall with his hand tight around your waist, holding you still like you’re his to manhandle. His eyes are dark, jaw tight, but the smirk on his lips is the worst part.

“Oh, now you’re quiet?” he breathes, eyes dragging down your body like he’s undressing you with his stare. “Wasn’t so shy when you were acting like a spoiled little brat, huh?”

You open your mouth, probably to push back with something smart—but he cuts you off with his hand wrapping lightly around your throat. Just pressure. Just enough to remind you who’s in control.

“Keep playing, baby. I’ll make you regret it.” His voice dips lower, dangerous. “You want me to fuck the attitude out of you? ‘Cause I will. Slowly.”

He leans in, lips brushing your jaw, your neck, just barely skimming skin as he breathes, “I’ll make you beg. I’ll ruin you. I’ll make sure the next time you think about mouthing off, your legs go weak just remembering how I left you shaking.”

Your body tenses, back arching the slightest bit to feel more of him—and he laughs. The sound is cruel, quiet, too pleased.

“You want it that bad?” he teases, palm sliding between your thighs, not nearly where you need him. “Poor thing. Already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

You shiver. You hate how much he’s in control.

And just when you think he’s going to snap—finally lose it and give you what you’ve been aching for—

He steps back.

Lets go of you like you’re nothing.

His voice is calm when he says, “Next time you want attention, just ask. No need to act like a brat for it.”

And he walks away.

You’re left breathless. Trembling. So close it hurts.

Lee Know

The night had been full of subtle games—your eyes meeting his across the room, the way you purposefully pressed yourself just a little too close whenever you passed by him. You knew exactly what you were doing, but he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. Not anymore.

As you make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you back effortlessly. You’re forced to face him, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine.

Minho doesn’t need to say anything. The look on his face says it all. You’ve pushed him too far.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he murmurs, his voice like honey—smooth, dangerous. His grip tightens on your wrist, and he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space between you. The heat of his body makes you ache, but it’s the way his eyes stay on yours that makes you freeze. “You’ve been begging for me to take control all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice you testing me.”

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your lips in a way that’s teasing, yet oh-so-slow, making the anticipation build. Your breath catches as you try to respond, but before you can speak, he leans in—just close enough to make you feel the heat of his breath against your neck.

“You want it so badly, don’t you?” Minho whispers, the words coating your skin, sending a thrill that makes your legs almost give way beneath you. “Want me to remind you who’s in charge here?”

Your body betrays you, a desperate little whimper escaping, but Minho is already stepping back, his hands disappearing before you can react. He looks at you—studying you—as though he’s savoring the moment.

You try to move toward him, your body burning with need, but he only chuckles softly.

“You’re not ready yet,” he says with a smirk, his voice low and taunting. “Not until you learn a little more patience.”

He steps back, walking away slowly, leaving you standing there, desperate, frustrated, and aching, with nothing but the feeling of his absence lingering, and the knowledge that you’re far from finished.

Changbin

You’d been pushing all the right buttons—teasing him with those soft glances, the little smirks that always seemed to rile him up. But Changbin was patient—maybe too patient, letting you have your fun. But you’ve gone too far now.

He pulls you into his chest without warning, the sudden force of it leaving you breathless. His hands grip your waist firmly as he holds you in place, his breath coming fast against your ear.

“You think you can just tease me all night and get away with it?” His voice is rough, no trace of the calm you might expect from him. “You’re testing me. And I don’t take kindly to that.”

You don’t have time to react before he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes your pulse race. There’s no teasing this time—he’s taking control immediately, and you can feel it in every inch of his body.

Changbin’s grip on your hips tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’ve been a brat. Time for you to earn it.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing just above yours, a taunting proximity that makes your breath hitch. But instead of kissing you, he pulls away, his hand trailing down your body, over your thighs, dangerously close to where you want him most. Just as you think he’s going to touch you, he stops.

“You want more?” he growls, voice dark. “You think I’m going to give it to you just because you’re begging?”

Your frustration bubbles over, and your hips move involuntarily toward him, but it only makes him laugh—low, dark, and knowing. He looks down at you with that cocky smirk that makes your heart race.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, babe,” he says, his lips brushing your ear again. “Next time, I’ll decide how far this goes. And trust me, you’ll be begging for more. But not yet.”

With that, he steps back, leaving you breathless, your body aching for what he almost gave you.

Changbin turns, tossing you one last glance before he walks away, leaving you standing there on the edge of frustration, wondering just how much longer you’ll have to wait.

Hyunjin

It started with a subtle glance—his eyes lingering on you a moment too long, like he was already imagining what he could do to you. You hadn’t expected it, but the tension between you two was undeniable. And now, here you were, sitting beside him in a crowded café, trying to keep things cool, but everything about the way he was looking at you said he wasn’t.

You shift slightly, trying to adjust yourself in the seat, but it only makes things worse. Hyunjin’s eyes flick to your thighs, the way your legs crossed, and then slowly, deliberately, he slides his hand under the table. It brushes against your knee, making your breath hitch.

“Stop moving,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear, his fingers inching higher along your leg. “You’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

The light touch sends a jolt through you, and you almost forget where you are, but then you remember the people around you. You look up at him, your eyes wide with sudden realization.

Hyunjin’s lips curl into a smirk. “Worried? Don’t be.” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “If they only knew what I’m planning to do to you later.”

Your pulse races as his fingers continue their slow path up your leg, just brushing the edge of where you can’t hide your excitement. You try to steady yourself, but he’s too good at this, too good at keeping you on the edge of being discovered.

“You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he teases, leaning in just enough to make sure no one else can hear. “You can barely sit still. But don’t worry. I’ll make you wait. You’re not getting anything tonight unless you’re good.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, your body aching for the release you know won’t come anytime soon. Hyunjin’s hand moves higher, just barely grazing the waistband of your pants before he stops, his fingers lingering for just a second too long before pulling away completely.

“You’re going to be begging by the time we’re alone,” he whispers, his tone still teasing, but there’s that darker edge beneath it. “But for now, keep your cool. I want everyone to see how hard it is for you.”

You glance around nervously, aware of how visible you’ve become, but when you turn back to Hyunjin, he’s already leaning back in his chair, casually sipping his coffee, as if nothing happened.

You’re left trying to calm your racing heart, the tension between you two unbearable, knowing exactly what’s coming next—and it’s going to make you wish you had never been so impatient in the first place.

Han

You couldn’t help it—Jisung was being extra today. The way he kept looking at you from across the room, that playful smirk on his lips, the way his fingers brushed against your arm every time you were close. It was like he was begging you to act out just so he could punish you for it.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you were about to find out. He wasn’t going to let you keep teasing him like this—he was ready for payback.

As you walk down the hallway to your shared room, you’re caught off guard when Jisung pulls you into the nearest bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Before you can say anything, he’s already pushing you up against the wall, his body close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“What the hell, Han?” you manage to say, but he cuts you off with a single finger pressed to your lips.

“You’ve been acting like a little brat all day,” he growls, his voice low and controlled. “Now it’s my turn.”

His hands move swiftly, gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. You try to struggle, but he’s too strong. His body presses into yours, and you can feel the undeniable hardness against your stomach.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you’ve been teasing me?” he murmurs in your ear, his breath hot and making your skin tingle. “Every little touch, every smile, every glance—this is your fault.”

You swallow, your heart pounding as he leans in even closer, lips brushing your ear. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he says, his voice dark and possessive. “I’ve been patient, but now I’m done. I’m going to make you pay for making me wait.”

Before you can even react, his lips are on yours, kissing you with an intensity that takes your breath away. It’s rough and possessive, like he’s claiming you, marking you. But just as you start to get lost in it, he pulls away.

“You wanted this, right?” Jisung teases, his hand sliding down your body, skimming your side before stopping right above where you want him most. His smirk grows as he sees the frustration building in you. “Beg for it. Maybe then I’ll give it to you.”

He steps back slightly, but his hands remain on your body, hovering just where you need them. You’re desperate now, body aching, but Jisung knows exactly how to keep you right on the edge. He leans in again, this time just whispering into your ear, “You’ll wait. And when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for me to take you harder.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the desperate groan threatening to escape, but Jisung just smiles, steps back, and leaves you standing there. The tension in the room is thick, your body trembling with the need for release, but he’s already out the door, leaving you to wonder just how much longer you’ll have to wait before he comes back to finish what he started.

Felix

You could feel the tension building the moment you two locked eyes across the room. Felix had always been playful, always teasing, but tonight there was something different about the way he was looking at you. It was like he was sizing you up, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

The group had just finished their practice, everyone else scattered around, but Felix? He stayed close, watching you like a predator eyeing its prey.

You were talking to some of the others when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You could practically feel the heat of him before he said anything.

“Miss me already?” Felix’s voice was light, but there was something more dangerous beneath it. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, just a soft touch, but it made your whole body react, a tingle spreading down your spine.

You turn your head, and his smile is sharp, too knowing. “I think you’ve been a little too bold lately, huh?” he says, voice laced with mischief and something darker. “Do you know how much it’s been driving me crazy?”

Before you can even answer, he pulls you to the side, away from the others. The way he handles you is effortless, making you feel like you don’t have any control in the situation, and honestly, you’re starting to like it.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’ve been teasing me all day, haven’t you? I can feel it—the way you move, the way you look at me. You think I’m just going to let you get away with it?”

Your pulse quickens as you try to speak, but Felix presses his body into yours, effectively silencing you with his presence. “You want to play with fire?” His voice is low now, and his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there’s no space left between you.

The way he looks down at you—eyes dark, lips parted slightly—sends a rush of heat through your entire body. “I’m going to make you regret this,” he warns, his hand slipping lower, brushing against your thigh. “But not until I’ve made you beg for it.”

His fingers trace dangerously close to where you need him most, but he doesn’t touch you there. Not yet. He pulls his hand back, letting the moment hang in the air between you like a threat.

“You think you’re in control?” Felix smirks, pulling away slightly to get a better look at you. “Not anymore. I’m going to make you wait. And when I finally give you what you want? It’s going to feel so much better.”

You bite your lip, the frustration building in your chest, but Felix steps back with a teasing grin on his face. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be back. Just don’t make it too easy for me next time.”

With one last glance, he walks away, leaving you standing there, hot and desperate, knowing you’re only getting a small taste of what’s to come.

Seungmin

You knew you were pushing his buttons this morning, teasing him a little too much, getting under his skin on purpose. Every time he told you to stop, you only pushed harder, your playful attitude making him frustrated but in that endearing way—at least, that’s how it started.

By the time the day had gone on, you could tell Seungmin was getting more and more irritable. He tried to keep his cool, but his patience was wearing thin. You didn’t expect him to confront you about it so soon, but you should’ve known better.

Later, when you two were alone in his room, he didn’t give you the chance to speak. He shut the door behind him, his gaze dark as he locked eyes with you.

“You’ve been a little brat today,” Seungmin says, his voice quiet but stern. “You think you can just tease me and get away with it?”

You smirk, playing it off, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he steps closer, the air between you thick with tension.

“Stop,” he mutters, his tone a warning, but it’s too late. The teasing had gone too far, and now it was his turn.

Before you can react, he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. His movements are quick, efficient, and you’re not sure if it’s the playful Seungmin you’re used to, or someone else entirely. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you in between his legs.

“You’re going to learn a lesson, brat,” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your wrist. “You wanted to push me? Fine. I’m going to make you regret it.”

You try to pull away, but Seungmin doesn’t let you. His eyes flash with that familiar mix of frustration and desire as his other hand moves up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I told you to stop this morning,” he says, his voice rougher than usual. “But you wouldn’t listen, so now you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.”

His lips are suddenly on yours, rough and demanding, as though he’s been holding back all day. His kiss is hard, controlled, and you feel him pull you closer, his hands roaming over your body, showing you exactly how much he’s been holding back.

“You wanted attention, didn’t you?” he growls between kisses. “Well, now you’ve got it.”

He pulls away just enough to catch his breath, eyes narrowed in a mix of exasperation and hunger. His hands slide to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin.

“You’re going to learn to be good for me,” he says, voice low. “You think I’m going to let you get away with that? You’re wrong.”

Seungmin’s grip tightens as his other hand moves down your body, teasing just the edges of where you need him, but never quite giving you what you want. The teasing makes your body ache for more, and you can’t stop yourself from whining just a little.

“You’ll have to beg for it,” he says, watching you struggle, a smirk forming on his lips. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you what you want.”

But before you can beg, he leans back, giving you one last teasing smile. “But not yet.”

The frustration is unbearable as he lets you stand there, panting, yearning for more, knowing that Seungmin won’t give you the satisfaction until he decides you’ve had enough time to wait.

I.N

You knew exactly how to push Jeongin’s buttons today. The moment you stepped out in that outfit—a little tighter than usual, a little more revealing—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze followed you all day, his thoughts clearly fighting between keeping his cool and wanting to do more than just watch you walk by.

You kept it up on purpose, knowing it was getting to him, knowing the effect it had. You’d always had this power over him, and today, you were going to have some fun with it.

When you finally find yourself alone with him in his room, you notice his usual smile is gone. Instead, there’s a look of pure frustration on his face, something dark brewing behind his usually sweet expression.

“You’ve been acting like this all day,” Jeongin starts, voice tight. His eyes rake over your outfit one more time, making it clear that he’s had enough. “I can’t concentrate with you wearing this.”

You smirk, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What do you mean? You’ve been looking at me like this all day, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

Jeongin takes a step forward, his hands balling into fists at his sides, trying to keep control. “Enjoy it? I’m about to lose my mind, and you think I enjoy being driven crazy by you?”

He steps closer, his breath warm on your face as he looks down at you. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you put this on, didn’t you? You’ve been walking around, flaunting yourself, and I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep my hands off you.”

His voice drops lower, more dangerous now. “But I can’t keep holding back anymore.”

Before you can even react, his hands are on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest rises and falls with the effort of keeping control. He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he speaks, his voice rougher than usual.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my distance from you all day?” he growls, his hand slipping just below the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin. “You’ve been flaunting yourself, and I’ve been trying to be good. But you don’t make it easy, do you?”

You feel him press even closer, his body caging you in. “You’ve got no idea how badly I want you right now,” he whispers, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a searing trail behind them. “But I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”

You’re about to speak, but Jeongin pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. There’s a teasing smirk on his face, and his eyes are filled with something you can’t quite name—desire, frustration, something in between.

“You think I’m going to just give in, don’t you?” he says, voice thick with anticipation. “You’ve been so bratty today, wearing this outfit like you’re begging for me to lose control. But I’m not going to give you what you want so easily.”

He steps back, his hands leaving your body but still lingering just above you, like a silent promise of what’s to come. “You’re going to have to wait for me, just a little longer. I’ll make you regret this, but not yet.”

With one final look, he walks away, leaving you standing there, breathless, craving more, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he comes back to finish what he started.

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darknight3904 · 3 days ago

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tommyxfemreader thigh riding🫦 maybe in her home in Jackson lowkey forbidden since he’s with Maria (love u queen but…)

Pretty Boy

Jackson!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Cursed to watch him from afar, you finally make a move on Tommy one day when he's stuck in your house due to a thunderstorm.

Warnings: Language, Smut 18+, Dom/swtich!reader, sub/switch Tommy, thigh riding, dirty talk, handjobs, cheating (don't do that irl.)

TLOU Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

I got carried away with this one, whoopsie. Went a bit off the rails, but I hope you enjoy it, anon. @xodilfluvr No pressure tag, but I think you're going to like this one.

You had a major problem.

You couldn’t get him out of your fucking head. Tommy Miller was eating up every spare nook and cranny your brain had to offer.

You arrived in Jackson nearly a year ago. With its quaint town and even nicer people, you were finally comfortable here at the end of the world. The issue though had started about six months ago, your first patrol run was led by none other than the ex-Firefly himself. You at first hadn’t thought much of him, probably just another guy with a big mouth and no skill to back it up. Instead, you were astounded when he brought down three infected, all head shots, from atop a large hill. Then, he’d wrapped his arms around you, repositioning your elbows in the best way to hold a gun so you didn’t get knocked on your ass by the kick back. His deep voice had your head spinning as you tried to focus on what he was saying about aiming right.

Since then, you’d become a woman obsessed. But truly it wasn't your fault, Tommy Miller was just really fucking pretty, a pretty boy if you will. Dark curls and big brown eyes to go with, god, he was gorgeous, who could blame you for being so interested?

Now, most people would bite the bullet, ask their crush out instead of pining like some teenage girl, and you would, you really would, except there was one issue. Tommy Miller was a taken man.

Maria had scooped him up a few months back, right when you realized your feelings, too. How convenient. You had no interest in being a homewrecker, but admiring never hurt anyone, right? You could look all you wanted, just not touch. Kind of like a fancy museum, Tommy was the artwork and you were the observer, content with staring and imaging what that piece might look like above you each night, sweaty and with loud moans coming out of his pretty-

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, m’ fine.” You say

The loud sound of rain beating down on the twenty-something-year-old roof had you nervous, hopefully, it wouldn’t cave in tonight while you slept. The storm had come out of nowhere. One minute, you and Tommy were standing in your kitchen; he had swung by to tell you that the patrol shift was changing since Eugene had pulled a muscle in his back, the next, it was raining like a fucking monsoon was coming through Jackson.

“Damn it.” Tommy curses as he stares out the window over your kitchen sink, “M’ gonna get drenched going out there.”

“You could just stay here,” You blurt out, “Just till the storm blows over.”

Tommy looks at you, obviously weighing his options: go outside, get drenched, and probably end up sick since it was a twenty-minute walk between your place and his, or sit down and just wait it out.

“Alright, fine, better than getting soaked to hell.” He grumbles

Tommy had been in a sour mood all week, you had picked up on it after he hadn’t had his usual pizzaz during your Thursday shift with him down in the greenhouse. You motioned for him to sit down on the couch, handing him a glass of brandy.

“Where the hell did you get this?” He sniffs the glass

“It’s a secret.” You smile, sitting across from him in the big armchair you loved, “You look like you need to relax, figured it’d help a bit.”

Tommy sighs, sipping the amber liquid, his adams apple bobbing as he does, you squirm in your seat, fuck you hadn’t been alone with him like this since well…ever.

“Yeah, it’s been a long couple of weeks. Maria’s been busy, council shit new buidlings and then that roof that caved in on Leona’s house.” Tommy sighs, “Haven’t seen much of each other.”

You hum in acknowledgement, feeling sorry for how lonely he must’ve been.

“Sorry, you don’t wanna hear my shit.” Tommy gives you a small smile

“No!” You counter, “I like hearing you talk.”

“Is that so?”

True to your request, Tommy talks to you. As he sips at his drink you refill it twice, loosening him up a bit as you pour yourself some listening to him talk about how he found some fancy new scope for his gun.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You ask

“Tired of listening to me, sweetheart?” He smiles, a faint blush on his skin from the drink

“Nah, just got something I think you might like,” You grin, waving a DVD case that reads Alien on it, “It’s the directors cut.”

“Well, shit, pop it in.” Tommy grins

The movie hazily plays in the background as you sit beside Tommy on the sofa a single throw pillow separating the two of you as he rests his arm on it. You’re too focusied on the man beside you to take any note of whatever the hell Ripley was doing on screen. You’re too focused on the way Tommy’s thighs shift every few minutes the muscles straining against the tight denim of his dark blue jeans.

Without thinking about it, you reach out running a delicate hand up his thigh, brushing the fabric of the pocket before he jumps back.

“What the hell’er you doin’?” His loud voice bounces off the wall

“Shit, sorry!” You fumble, jumping back as if he’s burned you, tears whelling in your eyes. You hadn’t expected him to be so well repulsed by you “I didn’t mean to, fuck.”

Tommy eyes you, the flickering screen illuminating him for a second. His eyes scan over your figure, probably thinking you were some pathetic loser, crying cuz’ he raised his voice for second.

“Sorry, you just uh scared me.” Tommy doubles back, “Didn’t mean to make ya cry, sweetheart.”

Tommy’s next move has you shocked, he inches closer to you, a big hand cradles your face as he wipes a few stray tears that have escaped your burning waterline. He lets out a low hum, one that spreads warmth across your stomach and down to your lower belly.

“Pretty.” He softly whispers like it’s a secret no one can know, if only he knew you thought the same about him.

You nuzzle into his touch, elated to finally feel his hands on your bare skin again. You never want to leave this moment.

Tommy pulls back abruptly, hands falling down, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…I should leave, got shit to do at home, theres this leaky faucet and the basement door is broken.”

He’s rambling still as you place a small hand on his chest, keeping him on the sofa beside you. You grab the remote, muting the TV and switching it off, you’ll pop the disc out later on. The alcohol has you bolder than ever as you push him back down when he goes to stand. Your legs straddle his hips, using your weight to keep him right where you want him.

“But it’s still raining.” You whisper, leaning in so your nose brushes his

Under you, you can feel something hard beginning to form, his cock twitching against you as you slowly begin to shift a bit, pretending like you don’t know what you’re doing. Tommy’s hands rest on your hips, his eyes fluttering shut, a soft fuck leaving his lips as you move.

“Darlin’ this isn’t…I’m…Maria and I…”

You push a finger to his lips, “Shhh…It’s alright.”

You push yourself off his lap, knees hitting the soft carpet as you pull the zipper of his jeans down, the pretty sight of his green and blue boxers greeting you, “You’ve been so stressed, Tommy, let me take care of it.”

You push the band of his underwear down, his hard cock springing up from the fabric, it’s drooling head leaking as your eyes widen. You expected him to be big, just not this big.

You’ve only pressed a kiss to the pink tip of it before Tommy is hauling you back up into his lap, settling you on one of his thighs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask

“I wanna watch you.” He mumbles, skin flushed as he stares at you, fingertips tugging at your shirt

A coy smile lines your face, you hold all the cards now, he was yours. You free yourself from your shirt, unclipping your bra as you go and then you stand only for a second to wiggle your pants off. Your hands have just hooked under your panties when he stops you.

“Keep 'em on.” A deeper blush paints his pretty face, “Wanna watch you with them on.”

You smile, pressing your lips to his as you settle back on his thigh, cunt weeping when you feel it flex under you.

“What do you want me to do, cowboy?” You softly whisper into his ear, teeth nipping the sensitive skin there., "Hmm? Gonna ask me? Y'look so damn pretty like this, mmm pretty boy."

“Fuck…” Tommy whispers voice just barely there after all your compliments, “Ride my thigh, baby, get yourself off on me.”

You softly hum, “What do we say? Gotta ask nicely, pretty boy.”

Tommy’s eyes scan your face, he clearly isn’t used to be treated like this for just a split second you think you’ve over stepped but then he’s opening his mouth again, falling into your hands.

“Please.” He softly asks

You press a kiss to his cheek and then to the tip of his nose, “Good job.” You mumble.

You’re not sure what’s come over you tonight, you could blame it on the brandy, the alcohol is the reason you’re dominating your crush of a whole year, the same man who was in a relationship with the literal laader of your town. Perhaps it’s just the result of buried feelings, all you know is that this feels good, and it seems like you’re not the only one.

Each roll of your hips along his thigh has Tommy’s lips falling with a groan as his cock weeps for you. A loud moan leaves your lips when the muscle beneath you flexes, Tommy’s deep voice fills your ears.

“Fuck you’re pretty like this. Christ, always knew you’d look good ontop of me.”

Your head spins. Tommy Fucking Miller had just admitted to having sexual fantasies of you. You hips roll more argressively against him, the cotton of your panties is soaked, proably seeping into his jeans as you get yourself off on his thigh.

“T-Touch me, touch me please.” He mumbles, hips jumping up towards your hand when one lands on his belly

“You sure?” You mumble a smirk on your lips, “Thought you were a taken man, what we’re doin’ right now is certainly forbidden.”

Tommy’s head falls back onto the couch when your run a finger over the slit of his cock, a fucking whimper leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I don’t care.” He groans, eyes squeezed shut

“Look at me.” You say, you’re not going to miss one second of this

The thick muscle of his leg presses up to your clothed clit and you bite your lip, Tommy’s deep brown eyes meet yours and you feel a bit sorry for him.

Your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him at the same pace your hips roll into him. He groans your name loudly as you twist your wrist.

“Baby, fuck…” Tommy’s forehead glistens with sweat as you press a warm kiss to his neck, nipping at his skin, “M’ not gonna last.”

“Go on.” You smile, “Cum for me, I don’t mind.”

“Not til you get yours.” He affirms, his stomach tightening as you steady yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder

Big hands find your soft chest, thumbs flicking at your nipples as you try to keep your cool, wanting to maintain your dominance over him.

“You gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my fucking thigh?” Tommy grins, your hand still pumping him, “Yeah, you are, it’s like you’re in heat, girl. Knew you wanted me, always starin’ like I’m some piece of meat you wanna strap down on your bed.”

“T-Tommy!” If he keeps this up, you’re going to lose it

"It's alright, I'd let ya." He laughs, "Yeahhh that's it, she's crying all over my fucking jeans, gonna havta' wash em' real good tonight."

A loud moan leaves your lips, your brain is blank as he talks to you, your climax is so close.

“Go ahead, pretty girl, cum on me,” His southern drawl fills your ears, “M’ all yours now, go ahead, stake your claim.”

Another roll of your hips and he roughly gropes your sensitive chest and you’re gone, wetness spilling into your ruined panties and his pants as Tommy groans into your ear. Warm cum spurts over your hand as he reaches his end, chest heaving as your his stutter into his thigh.

You bury your face in his neck, not wanting him to leave you again. The storm outside has stopped; you can tell by the way the sunlight has started to stream back through the windows.

“You alright?” Tommy whispers into the still air

“Fine.” You say, looking at him as he stares back

Tommy glances around, eyes scanning your nearly nude form, his ruined jeans, the discarded pile of your clothes, his softening cock and your hand covered in his spunk.

“Fuck.” He groans

You knew it, He regretted it, that line about him being yours wasn’t real. You’d fucked up majorly and lost a friend, god you were so fucking stupid sometimes. You go to stand, legs a weakened mess as you stumble. Before you can get far though, Tommy pulls you back down into his warm body.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Tommy asks, “You’re stayin’ here with me. I’ll get you water in a minute, then we can go shower.”

Water? Shower? With him? What the hell was he thinking? Didn't he need to get home to his girlfriend and the broken basement door?

As if he’s a mind reader, Tommy presses a kiss to your lips, “ Don’t gotta worry about Maria anymore, I’m all yours now, baby.”

Liked this fic? Check out More Tommy Here

This is the product of listening to Sabrina Carpenter while writing. I think it turned out nicely :)

Requests are open, I love getting them, so if you have anything you really want me to write, don't be shy, come chat.

#tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x fem!reader #tommy miller smut #tommy miller fluff #tlou #the last of us #fanfic #smut #requests #tlou smut

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midyearflowers · 2 days ago

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normally im a tag talker but i wanna put this more visibly: i highly recommend the last 3 on the list. as nice as relaxing media can be, its even better when there is no media at all. we spend so much of our time being "on" and having media blasted at us 24/7 in the form of ads and signs and media, that its good to just completely disengage

sit in your room with nothing on, no music no movies no videos, put your phone in another room if you have to. open the window if its nice and just listen to the sounds of life. lie down and close your eyes, you dont have to sleep (if you do thats fine too!) but just "turn off" as many of your sense as you can and just Be. let your mind wander, dont force thoughts or hold onto them, just let it all pass by to give your brain a break

if you cant sit still for long or you know youll get too bored, then go for a walk or sit outside and quietly observe, again with no music no media, the point is to focus on the moment and not overload yourself on stuff happening (and yes this goes for everyone, even with sensory issues. i have misophonia so i know what its like to have the random noises around you be stressful but you gotta disengage. if you need something use head or ear phones but do not play anything!! your brain needs to not be so focused on something like music or talking in your ears)

we like to think that doing something easy that we dont have to think about is relaxing, but its still thinking and using energy! ive had days where im so exhausted that even watching tv seems like too much effort, and thats cause my brain needs a reset! you need to go full off, as quiet as you can get (or as natural of sound, think ambience), and be in a comfortable position to just completely drop put of thinking for a bit

become blob and truly rest your brain, it will thank you!

im so serious about this but if youre autistic and especially if youre chronically ill creative labour cannot be your only way to relax. working on a creative project is still working. take time to do nothing. its good for you i promise.

#gwyn tinvaak #relaxing media is fine but its not 100% relaxing #you gotta go back to full caveman sometimes

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leighsartworks216 · 1 day ago

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Cookies And Kisses

Zayne x gn!Reader

I am YEARNINGGG for a Zayne kiss so badddd (and also cookies) I also wrote this like minutes after my friend sent me the trailer for the new banner cuz ough Zayne why you gotta kiss like that and NOT BE REAL

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, kissing, baking, established relationship

Word Count: 1,229

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADs Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

It was only a matter of time before the sweet fragrance of baking cookies beckoned Zayne to the kitchen. Even though he was in his office, working away on his reports and research, it's the most surefire way of getting him to take a break. You've only just put in the second batch when he wanders in with that round-eyed interest, honing in on the fresh tray of sweets.

"You're baking today?" he asks. You hear the excitement in his voice, even if he's trying to act natural.

You slip off the oven mitt with a smile. The counter is a bit of a mess - flour, baking soda, vanilla and almond extract, sugar both powdered and crystalized. You tried to keep it contained, for what it's worth. Cooling racks are spread out on the kitchen island, empty for now. A full one sits beside the oven. Twelve golden sugar cookies, with coarse rainbow sprinkles pressed into their tops. You are the only thing between him and the cookies.

"They're still hot," you warn, walking over to meet him so you can hold him back for as long as it takes to let them cool for just a couple minutes. You wrap your arms around his neck. His hands rest comfortably on your waist, slipping around to your back to hold you close. Eyes focus down on you, momentarily distracted by the one thing he loves more than his sweets. "I thought it would be fun. I was going to bring some to Yvonne and Grayson."

He glances back at the cookies. "How many are you making?"

"The recipe makes about 50 cookies. I don't think either of us need that many to ourselves."

He hums noncommittally and asks, "How many are you giving them?"

"Eight each. Will 30-something cookies be enough to satisfy you?"

"With your baking, no amount could satisfy me."

You laugh softly. Your fingers begin caressing the back of his neck and playing with the short ends of his dark hair. His eyes soften behind his glasses, warm with affection as he soaks in your touch. "With your sweet tooth, no amount of anyone's baking could satisfy you."

His ears grow warm, but he just smiles. His long fingers trace light patterns against your spine and lower back. He glances at the cookies once more. You try not to laugh at how obviously he's restraining himself. "Can I have one?"

"Just one?"

"Mm, or two, or three?"

You peck his lips with a snicker and pull away. His hands slide away, falling down back to his sides. You miss them immediately. Still, you grab a napkin and carefully settle two cookies on it. The third you take for yourself, taking a bite as you turn to rest your back against the counter, holding out the napkin for him. He stands close, comfortably within arms reach, as he eagerly accepts the cookies and takes a bite of one.

Still warm, the sugar cookie crumbles in the best way possible. The subtle vanilla, the sweet almond, the added crunch of sugar crystals. He hums in content. You reach up to wipe away the crumbs at the corner of his mouth, and he looks at you with a smile.

"They're delicious," he praises after he swallows his first bite. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. "Thank you."

You catch his lips again before he can fully pull away. A quiet sigh escapes him as he reciprocates, fanning across your cheek from his nose. He tilts his head. Sets his partial cookie back in the napkin to hold your cheek as he licks the seam of your mouth, tasting the cookie's lingering sweetness on your lips, on your tongue.

Zayne kisses like he'll never kiss you again. It wasn't always like this. When you first started dating, kisses were hesitant. Light pecks, chaste and quick. Even your first make out, there was always something restrained in the way he kissed. He allowed you to lead, to take what you wanted from him. Now that you've grown as a couple, discovered each other's quirks and habits, moved in together, begun intertwining your souls, his kisses aren't the quiet, reserved pecks they used to be. He's always aching to kiss you deeper. Tilting his head from one side to the other as his hands hold you in place, pull you closer. His breaths grow heavy with excitement, soft sounds escaping the back of his throat. He devours you. Kisses you as though it's the last kiss you'll ever share and he needs to make the most of it. Kisses you like a soldier off to war, saying goodbye to his partner before he's shipped off. Kisses you like you're sweeter than pure sugar.

The oven beeps. You pull away with a sigh, sad to see the moment end. He smiles reassuringly as he kisses your cheek, silently promising to continue this later, before he steps away to lean back against the island. Those lithe fingers slipping from your cheek to pick up the cookie again, bringing it to his kiss-swollen lips and-

The oven beeps once more and you push away from the counter to stop the timer. You slip on the oven mitt, open up the inferno to let its dry heat caress your already-warm cheeks, and retrieve the tray of fresh cookies. Zayne watches as you hold the tray in one hand and pick up the spatula with the other, one by one depositing the cookies onto a cooling rack.

He's halfway through his second cookie when you begin scooping an array of dough onto the tray. Sneaking a third from the first batch when you're pressing divots into the center of the dough-balls and dispensing pinches of sugar in them. Finishing the third when you're slipping the tray on the top rack of the oven and setting a new timer. You grab his hand before he can grab a fourth, tugging him away and toward the kitchen doorway.

"You're gonna make yourself sick one of these days," you playfully chide. "No more until after dinner. Or at least until I've boxed up the ones for Yvonne and Grayson."

He chuckles as you drag him all the way back to his office. Smiles like a lovestruck fool as you push him into his chair. He grabs your hips before you can pull away, settling you to be standing between his legs as he looks up at you like you're the moon itself.

"Will you tell me when you've finished?"

You brush his bangs aside from his forehead. Trail your touch down his cheek. Hold his chin as you run your thumb along his lips. "Finished baking or finished separating theirs out?"

His eyes close as he presses a kiss to your finger. "Both."

You lean down and kiss his forehead. "So long as I don't catch you sneaking out before then."

"I won't."

"Mm-hm."

He tilts his head back, eyes flickering to your lips. "I won't," he insists.

"You won't get caught, you mean." You brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He turns to fully catch your lips again. Draws you into him, until your knee is resting on the chair right up against his crotch. He murmurs breathlessly against your mouth, grinning with a subdued playfulness, "Now, I never said that."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz @that-lost-one @always-just-red @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @nothankyew @nezuswritingdesk @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @perla-drg @17chuuya @slovesyouuu @whisteriaremembers @leiakitty

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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nightcourtnovels · 2 days ago

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Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (Part 4)

Summary: Reader and Azriel finally go on a real date before he leaves the Day Court.

A/N: This ones a big of a long one… all fluff tho straight fluff. Also can be read as a stand alone)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself with a mix of excitement and dread, the bedroom was a battlefield of dresses and tossed accessories. Your best friend sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the chaos with a grin.

“Sit,” Selene commanded, tossing a few dresses on the bed before smoothing down the sheets like she was preparing a royal display. “We need to make you look irresistible. You’re going out with a bat boy. I’ve always wondered if the rumors are true… about those wingspans you know.”

Groaning, you threw a pillow at her. “You are not helping.”

“Oh, I’m helping,” she smirked, tossing the pillow back. “I’m riling you up so you don’t chicken out. Come on, look at this dress. It’s literally the color of his siphons.”

You settled in front of the mirror, trying to breathe past the nerves while Selene fussed with your hair.

“You look beautiful,” she said softly, stepping closer and adjusting the delicate necklace around your neck. “Seriously. If he doesn’t fall head over wings for you, he’s blind.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, a bit breathless.

Selene leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’m happy for you. Just… let yourself enjoy this. Let yourself feel it.”

A knock echoed from the front door.

Selene then raised a brow. “That’s your cue.” And with a wink, she added, “Have fun. Get cozy. If this thing works out, I expect an invite to the City of Starlight. You get Azriel as your brooding tour guide, and I’ll explore the shops and flirt with mysterious artists. Win-win.”

Laughing you headed towards the door, trying to ignore the nerves in your chest.

When you opened it, there he was—shadows curling lazily around him, his dress shirt fitted just perfectly with a few buttons undone. Just enough to see some tattoos peaking out and that delicious looking tanned skin— You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and smiled.

“I figured I’d dress to match your aesthetic,” you said with a playful smirk, running a hand down the fabric.

Azriel’s lips twitched into a grin. “You look stunning.”

“And you look like trouble,” you said eyeing him from shoes to shadows. “Ready to cause some?”

“Always,” he replied, offering his arm, which you took with an amused roll of your eyes. The two of you then quickly set a good pace and quietly strolled down the streets of Day, both asking how your days went and watching the people pass by.

Dinner was an experience all on its own. Azriel had taken you to a quaint restaurant tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind of place that felt timeless. The soft clinking of glasses and the quiet murmur of conversation around you only enhanced the intimate atmosphere. As you both sat down, the conversation began with the usual light chatter—talking about work, the upcoming events in Velaris, and even a few stories about your respective friends.

“So,” you said, leaning forward with a teasing smirk. “How old are you, anyway? You must be so old by now. Fighting in two wars, wow.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, swirling his drink. “You think I’m that old?”

You leaned in, voice a dramatic whisper. “You feel that old. All that silence and mystery. It's giving eternal grandpa.”

He raised a brow. “I’m 540.”

You blinked, then snorted. “Okay, okay. Not as ancient as I feared. Still older than my bookshelf, though.”

He grinned. “How old is that bookshelf? A pretty face like yours can’t be too old.”

Tilting your head, you act offended. “I’m 249, thank you very much. But guess what?” Leaning closer, eyes gleaming. “In twenty days, I’ll be turning 250.”

He gave a low whistle. “Quarter of a millennium. Impressive.”

“Do you know what happens when a female turns 250?” You asked, swirling your wine glass with deliberate slowness.

Azriel's brows furrowed slightly in curiosity. “I have no idea.”

You leaned back with a dramatic sigh, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I become so old that no one will want me anymore,” you said, a smirk curling your lips. “So I’ll have to get a little crazy to keep them interested.”

Azriel’s eyes twinkled, his lips pulling into a teasing grin. “You’re not even close to old. And besides,” he leaned closer, “do you know how old my brothers’ mates are? Look at the two old males they love.”

You snorted, laughing. “They don’t count! They might as well have lived a hundred lifetimes with what they’ve gone through. And trust me, Nesta acts like grumpy old fae anyways.”

Azriel tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, a playful glint in your eye. “I met Nesta last year when she came to the library to look at books. We bonded over them. She’s a bookworm just like me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked to read books like that.”

“Oh, I love them,” you said with a coy grin, leaning forward. “I could show you if you wanted.”

Azriel froze mid-sip, the glass halting just before his lips. His eyes widened. “Show me?”

Your smirk deepened, and you leaned back in your chair. “Yeah, I could show you… the books we read.”

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his lips twitching in amusement as he laughed. “I’m not sure whether I should be excited or worried now.”

Giggling, the conversation eventually drifted into quieter territory, the air softening between the two of you as the night wore on.

“Tell me about your family,” you asked, tracing the rim of your glass.

Azriel considered, his voice softer. “I have two brothers. Rhysand and Cassian. You’ve obviously have met Nyx. My nephew. He’s a menace, but he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger.”

You smiled. “Really now? Couldn’t tell… Any immediate family?”

“My mother. I visit her when I can,” he said, a quiet fondness touching his words. “She lives out in the country. Doesn’t like the bustle of Velaris. Says too many people, not enough peace. Plus, she keeps herself busy with stray cats and nosy neighbors.”

You laughed, eyes lighting. “I like her already. I have a habit of collecting stray cats, too.”

He raised a brow. “Really? I didn’t know that. How many do you have?”

Sipping your wine, you feigned innocence. “You’ll have to take me out on another date to learn that.”

Azriel grinned. “Tempting. My mother would love you. You’ll probably steal her attention even more.”

“Don’t get jealous now.”

He leaned closer, shadows curling lazily around him. “You don’t even know how jealous I can get.”

You gave a teasing gasp. “Big momma’s boy, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, laughing. “Maybe.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Your family?”

You went quiet for a moment, then smiled, soft and faraway. “I was my father’s mini-me. Drove my mother crazy. I’d follow him everywhere. He taught me how to read the stars.”

Azriel nodded, “Do they live here?”

“They did but they passed away a long time ago,” you continued. “It was hard at first, but… I’d like to think I still make them proud. They loved each other so deeply. Honestly couldn’t live without each other.”

Azriel smiled softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But I do know there’s no doubt you’d still be making them proud.”

You smiled gently, as if hearing him say those words made the pain lessen.

For the rest of dinner, the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, with lighthearted teasing and moments of unexpected depth. And after the delicious chocolate cake for dessert, Azriel turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Is there anything you’d like to do next? Anything… specific?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “Dancing,” you said, your grin widening as you watched his eyes darken with amusement.

“Dancing, huh?” he repeated. “I think I can manage that, but I might have two left feet.”

Giggling, you told him you did as well and you could be fools together.

Azriel took your hand as you both left the restaurant, the night air cool but pleasant. You found a popular bar not too far from the restaurant, filled with music and laughter. The second you both walked in, someone handed you a drink. Azriel raised a brow, amused as you downed it like a challenge.

After that, you couldn’t help but pull him out onto the dance floor.

The music pulsed around you two, and you both moved together without thinking—like your bodies knew something they hadn’t figured out yet.

You laughed as Azriel twirled you around, your hair catching the light, and smile dazzling. He couldn’t look away.

“You’re good at this,” you said, breathless.

“So are you,” he murmured, one hand on your waist, the other at the small of your back.

Your faces were close, his shadows curling between you like a second skin.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered.

He smiled, spinning you, and for a second—just one second—Azriel let himself feel the ache in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt something this real. Like he was no longer watching life from the outside. Like he’d stepped into it.

Yet, he didn’t say anything and just held you a little closer.

Later on, after many drinks, you laughed as Azriel dipped you and pulled you back into him, his hand resting low on your back, your bodies moving in sync. The playful teasing had turned into something more intoxicating, the two of you caught in the rhythm of the night, the chemistry between you undeniable.

And hours passed before either of you even noticed how late it had gotten. The bar was still lively, but the energy had shifted into something more intimate between the two of you, each glance and touch more charged than the last.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand with a sudden impulse. “I have something to show you.”

You led him through the winding streets until you reached a secluded spot— a hidden pool nestled beneath trees and moonlight.

“I come here when I need to breathe,” you said, tripping slightly as you tug off your heels. “To remember what peace feels like.”

Azriel glanced around, taking in the quiet surroundings. “It’s beautiful.”

And then, without warning, you leapt in—dress and all.

Azriel stood at the edge, stunned, wondering if the alcohol was giving him hallucinations or if you actually just jumped in. “You’re insane.”

You grinned, feeling the alcohol loosen your inhibitions. “I’m living,” you said with a playful wink. “Come on, jump in if you dare.”

Azriel laughed, though there was hesitation in his eyes. He stepped forward slowly, removing his shoes first before removing his shirt with exaggerated slowness. “I’m not a scoundrel,” he said, “so I’ll be taking my clothes off properly.”

You couldn’t help but blush, your eyes inadvertently following his every movement as he stripped off his pants.

Azriel noticed your gaze and smirked. “What? Never seen a male before?”

“Not one built like that,” you muttered under your breath, too tipsy to care if he heard.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else, then without warning, he leaped into the pool, the splash sending water flying.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching him wipe water from his eyes and shake off his wings. The two of you swam for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing, but mostly about the stars.

“I love looking at them,” you said, your voice soft, distant, as you floated on your back, eyes fixed on the sky.

Azriel nodded, his gaze intense. “You should see the stars in Velaris. I’ll show you sometime, the mountains have the best view.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. “I’d love that,” you whispered.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss. But as you pulled back, your eyes widened in realization. “Oh, I—”

Before you could apologize, Azriel cupped the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss, deeper this time, with a sense of urgency. He pulled away, breathless, his voice a whisper. “Never apologize for that.”

You stayed like that for a while, in the water, tangled in each other. Hands wandered. Kissing never stopped.

But, eventually, the cold of the pool reminded you both of the time, and with a soft sigh, Azriel pulled away, his hand finding yours and tugged you out of the pool.

“Come here,” he murmured, and gently guided you closer. He then gave you his shirt to wear since your dress was soaking wet.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, and Azriel stepped in, carefully pulling the fabric across you chest.

His fingers worked the buttons slowly, one by one, his knuckles grazing your skin, the shirt sticking slightly to your still-damp dress beneath.

Neither of you said a word.

He wasn’t looking at the buttons anymore—his eyes were on your lips, your throat, your eyes again. You felt your breath catch in your lungs.

You could feel his breath too, shallow and deliberate, the space becoming tighter with every second.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t do this for all your dates, do you?”

A small smile ghosted his lips. “Only the ones who drag me into freezing pools and steal my shirt.”

You laughed, but it came out breathy, unsteady. He finished the last button, his hand lingering for just a second too long. Your heart was pounding.

And you knew he could hear it.

“There. Warm now?”

You nodded. “Mostly.”

He didn’t step back.

Neither did you.

A silence stretched, not awkward—just charged, like the pause before lightning splits the sky. Eventually, you let out a soft breath and whispered, “We should head back. Before the sun fully rises and the city realizes we’ve stolen a whole night.”

Azriel finally, slowly, nodded. “Right. Come on.”

And as the first light of dawn broke across the sky, Azriel walked you back to your home, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

Your damp dress clung to your thighs, but you didn’t care. Not with the scent of cedar and shadows that clung to his shirt. Not with the soft glances he kept stealing your way when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Your fingers brushed once. Twice. The third time, his pinkie hooked around yours.

You looked up at him. He didn’t look back, just smiled, barely-there and lopsided.

No one spoke as you walked. The silence was full, companionable.

Stopping once you reached your house. Azriel turned towards you.

“I haven’t had a night like this in years,” he murmured. “Not since—” He broke off, but you understood. There were things behind both of your smiles. Shadows behind the laughter.

“Well,” you said, brushing you hair back, “hopefully it happens again.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Then he stepped closer, his shadows curling around his legs, his voice barely audible when he said, “I’d like that.”

He dipped his head, and kissed you—slow and soft, like he was memorizing your taste. Melting into it, with your arms around his waist, his shirt drowned your frame but still felt like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

When he pulled away, he didn’t go far. His forehead pressed against yours for a second, breath shared.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Shadowsinger,” you whispered back, your heart pounding.

Azriel gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave after you walked inside.

He started to walk away, shadows whispering around his shoulders.

But a few steps down the path, Azriel slowed. His hand rose to his chest again, where that strange ache still lingered. Not knowing if it was real or simply fatigue from dancing all night, he looked up at the dawn-washed sky and whispered, “Please, Mother. If this is it… I ask for nothing more.”

And with one long exhale, Azriel continued his way to the palace, where he would gather his things, and go back home. Home. Where you weren’t.

Shaking his head, his shadows curled softly around him and Azriel disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~

(Hopefully everyone liked it, tried to show a more carefree side than the usual brooding. If anyone was any ideas on where to take this story next lmk! Angst???? Or just straight fluff??? No angst??)

#acotar #azriel #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader

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janejennyojeny · 1 day ago

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Watched it today, my take is that black mirror portrays our world in an enhanced way. Subscription to stay alive will be there in the near far future. Greed is the plague of our times. Human life worth less than a buck. The part when rivermind representative introduces the couple to another premium package revealing that the most premium one's features are used at the expense of "common subscription" users time, health, wellbeing? made my blood BOIL. Such a great representation of huge corporations. I do hate billionaires I think they lack moral compass. What do you mean you have billions of dollars stacked somewhere and you use it only for pleasure, luxury or to make more money? What the fuck do you mean you hoard it just cause you can. This kind of money could change hundreds of thousands of lives, and you just sit there, at the very top, giving 0 fucks about anyone else but yourself. Moreover, this kind of money is impossible to obtain with a clear conscience - meaning that empire like that was built on the lives and hands of an army of other people who got a dogshit paycheck out of it at best. This is so crazy to think about and so, so, so depressing. We are all a part of this system and it makes me sick, we are in a black mirror episode already, open your eyes and see just how fucked up everything is. They say ignorance is bliss, the more years pass the stronger that statement becomes because the more you know the more likely you are going to loose your fucking mind at how unfair, disgusting, twisted everything is. This makes it that much harder to appreciate the small and good in the world. If we take it as ying and yang its not 50/50 anymore, I do not think it ever was. The bad is more than a half, you can see it in people you meet, in the street you live on, the news, whatever political situation is in your country, state of the earth and environment, fucked up prices of just LIVING. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE FLAT COSTS MY WHOLE PAYCHECK? Everything is so fucked and it's getting worse each day. I would really like to stay positive but fuck, man. Sometimes it is just impossible to do, being indifferent to all that is impossible when you actually see the pain around you or are affected by it. Empathy is gone, take a random person on the street and ask them what they think about homeless people, people affected by war in the Ukraine, oppressed minorities. Ask about whatever subject that needs empathy to understand and grasp. This will tell you all you need to know. What the fuck do we do? I have no fucking idea. The urge between giving up and fighting back flips back and forth. I do not think there's that many people who feel the same way for the revolution to start. They make it so YOU FEEL SMALL in comparison to their big ass everything. If you're a threat to their big wealth you're gone. Suicide with 6 gunshots to the back of the head. You get it. People do not quite get the "eat the rich" movement. They do not know how serious it is and how dangerous that elites decide on our lives. We are nothing to them. Just a statistic. I wish things could be different. Placing this brick as an act of rebellion, talking about it to people I know as an act of rebellion. Changing people's minds bit by bit as an act of rebellion. Speak your truth even if they look at you like you're crazy. Add your fucking brick. Speak up in important matters, sign petitions, donate to legit organizations, be on the lookout for manipulation and brainwashing, minimize your damage, do not be scared, spread love and awareness, support people that deserve it, do not give your views, likes, support to internet clowns who send the wrong message. People guided by greed do not deserve respect, recognition, praise. People who seek power do not deserve it. People who put billionaires on the pedestal are delusional. "You will own nothing and you will be happy". I could go on and on but the most important thing is: fight the good fight, it will ALWAYS be worth it.

I had another 5 paragraphs to write but tumblr won't let me. I think ya'll get it.

subscription-based brain, memories stored in the cloud. making them say ads without even knowing it. slowly decreasing their awake (streaming) time unless they upgrade to the next tier, and making their current tier more and more useless..... black mirror we're so back

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eevzz · 2 days ago

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a toymaker's desire o(≧▽≦)o

brief sum: not one but two yan toymakers!!

notice! semi-based off of @yanderenightmare's post about yan captors !! its perfectly written (as all of their stuff)!!! btw this might be a bit long i realize. i spent sm words on the coming to life part :,)

There was something so intimate about constructing your face. Your head, the curve of your nose, your eye shape. It felt so personal. From this moment he knew you were gonna be the favorite out of all the dolls they've had.

After being fully made there was never a day that went by where you weren't dolled up. Even though you weren't alive they dressed you for every occasion. For example when it's bed time they choose from various types of pretty pajamas to put you in, one might even read a bedtime story for you. When it's morning hours you're put in frilly dresses or if they want to go for something more casual they'd put you in a baby doll dress. If they have to attend a gala or something fancy and punctual they'd dress you in a long dress adorned with intricate details with satin bows and silk gloves and lace. You obviously never end up going with them. If we're being honest though, if it weren't for societal norms and the stares and looks they'd get, you'd definitely end up going.

They love you so much, it's weird. You don't show signs of life but they feel strangely attached to you. They feel as if you all were meant to be. If we're being honest, it took a while for one of them to understand the obsession with you, he thought it was creepy if anything. However, over time he started to understand, their love for you transcended words and life altogether. No one's quite sure what had happened, they say that is was fate, it was destiny, etc. But your vitalization was truly something unexplainable.

It was a silent night in the manor today. The boys had already put you to bed and read you a story. Born staring, all you could look at was the pink bed canopy curtains that decorated the sides of the bed. You're not sure what had happened but suddenly you could blink. Hm, that's weird—You're a ball jointed doll, ball jointed dolls don't have joints in their eyelids. Even if they did they probably would still need someone to help them blink. Before you had the chance to think about it more you could move your eyes too! Your eyes usually are just straight across you couldn't move them before. This makes you wonder actually, if you can move your eyes and eyelids, you can move other body parts, right?

Almost instantaneously after thinking about it you could move your head. Honestly, it hurt like hell, now you're starting to understand why humans complain about the pain they feel. You decided to take another chance and just try try to sit up, that's is easy enough, right? When you hoisted your back up to sit in an up-right position it felt like a huge stab of pain in your lower back. You wanted to scream, you almost did actually, but you wouldn't want to wake up the boys, would you? They do so much for you that they don't have to. At the very least you owe them uninterrupted sleep.

Now that you're finally sitting up-right how about giving walking a go? You flung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to stand up. Honestly, this isn't that far off from being unable to move. You just have a lot more feeling in your feet. You decide to try walking! Though, this one is probably the hardest of all. You've never walked before, not even when you were a solid doll. You just try to copy what you see humans do! Uhh, one foot forward and uhh another one forward? You try to put another foot forward but you end up wobbling a lot. Oh my—You never realized how much balance that goes into walking! You end up falling, thank god it didn't make much of a sound though. That whole night though, you were fixated on getting walking right. It took you up until almost the break of dawn to get it right, once you finally walked good enough for your satisfaction you just passed out sleeping on the floor.

It was finally morning and the boys had the most perfect sleep! One of them went downstairs to make food and some coffee, the other went to go get you dressed for the day. As soon as he opened the door he was met with shock, you're on the floor and not on the bed as he left you.. Huh, weird. It's okay, as long as you're here he's fine! As he was about to pick you up he realized you're a bit heavier than usual, that's unusual but that's fine. Maybe he's just now noticing how heavy you are, you are a doll after all! As he picked you up, he realized, you're very not stiff? Your joints are much more limp and more prone to moving. Maybe he's just tired and his brain is just messing with him. Upon putting you on the bed he realizes, why is your chest rising and falling—Oh my god, are you breathing? This can't be right! You're a doll, is his brain playing games with him? He starts to put his hand on your chest. What the hell! Why does he feel a heartbeat?! Are you even the same doll he's loved? He looks at your face and body, I mean, you do look relatively the same.. He lifts up your sleeves and realizes your doll joints are gone..

Upon feeling all of this commotion along your body, your eyes start to carefully open. "What the hell.." You hear a masculine voice say, huh, he sounds just like one of your owners. As your eyes start to focus and make of what you're seeing, oh, it is him! He looks scared, and suddenly he pushes you off of him and backs away from the you. He starts to yell for your other owner. "You have to come see this, I don't know what happened!" He sounds so panicked, he looks terrified of you. Seeing this makes you a bit self conscious if anything, you're still the doll they know and love. You're not any different. You finally open your mouth to say something, "You still love me, right?" Moments go by and no response. The silence being so loud between you guys, you almost thought it was the end of the road for you until you see his face get less and less tense and his eyes start to soften. He walks towards you and gives a warm, deep embrace. "How could I not, my baby?"

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azzibueckers5 · 21 hours ago

Text

i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) (ao3 link) (chapter 1 link)

chapter 2: in which azzi is a drama queen and mentally calls herself the word stupid so many times that it loses its meaning (wc: ~8.5k) (gasp)

AN: ummmm hiiiiii i'm back. please enjoy! i wanted to make it angstier but i didn't want to actually write that? so here you go. umm. any and all mistakes re: basketball and the wnba (and anything else) are mine and mine only! i'm learning slowly and I googled a lot of things but who knows. i think that's it? idk have fun freaks <3

azzi wakes to a pounding headache, a crick in her neck from sleeping on the couch, and an overwhelming sense of dread at everything in the world ever.

hanxiety doesn’t even begin to capture the feeling that curdles in her stomach when she goes to confirm that last night wasn’t a hyper-realistic dream, the words outgoing call, 1:47 reflecting back at her bleary eyes underneath paige’s contact. she’d called her at two in the fucking morning. good god.

she’s not sure if the wine or the hours of crying is the cause of the absolute knife between her temples, but it doesn’t matter because she needs three advils, like, now, before she begins processing the nightmare that the previous night really was.

she drags herself off the couch, wincing at the ache in her muscles, and heads to her bedroom to change out of last night's pjs and try and dig up the pain killers that she knows are somewhere in her bedside table.

briefly, humorously, she contemplates the tub of miscellaneous, much stronger drugs that she’s accumulated over her years of surgeries and injuries. maybe if she overdoses on the opioids she’d been given but never taken after her acl tear she won’t have to deal with this whole L-word realization that is sure to ruin the current stability of her life.

as she mentally picks through the haze of wine over her memories from the night before, the pit in her stomach grows. she had been a lot of things the prior night- stupid, emotional, drunk, but wrong about the truth of her complex web of emotion surrounding paige?

she wasn’t so sure. (she was actually kind of sure she hadn’t been wrong. which. fuck.)

after swallowing her pills (advil, not the oxycodone), she picks up her phone and fires off three texts to aaliyah in quick succession, needing her to know how much her line of questioning had caused azzi to spiral.

azzi: u suck btw.

azzi: the all-star break isn't the time to make me over analyze my friendships

azzi: or my sexuality for that matter

the older girl responds in a matter of seconds.

lili: BRUH I THOUGHT U KNEW

lili: come shoot before practice w me and we can talk it out

lili: but jsyk uve been moping for A YEAR my bad for thinking it was cause yall broke up

azzi: brooooo everyone always says friendship breakups r worse anyways

she releases a long suffering sigh to the mirror above her dresser. she looks a little bit like shit, eyes puffy and cheek creased, posture slumped over looking at her phone. the picture of i don’t want to have this crisis right now but i fear it’s too late.

screw everything. she looks back down at the buzz of her phone in her palm:

aaliyah: that’s only for straight girls dumbass

azzi: ok well i thought i WAS a straight girl

lili: [screenshotted image of her profile photo for azzi: her, sitting on the ground in the uconn facilities, propped up against the base of her locker, legs spread comfortably. her head is tilted up at the camera, a smirk lopsided on her face, and one hand is throwing up a four, the other splayed out across the top of her trucker hat. she’s wearing a huskies sports bra and sweatpants, slung low enough on her hips to exhibit the the thick band of her basketball shorts and the v of her lower abs]

lili: does this look like a straight girl to u

it's almost funny how obvious the answer is. azzi types out a succinct kill youself and throws her phone across her bed.

she feels like she should be concerned with how easily the knowledge that she’s into women (or at least one specific woman) settles into her skin. but somehow it feels more like something she’d known about herself and simply buried, waiting for the right time to fully process. and this doesn’t necessarily feel like the right time, but it's happening whether azzi likes it or not, and she supposes that accepting that you’re gay is a lot easier when every single person in your life already knew and thought you knew before you actually did.

the only person she really has to solidly come out to is herself (she ignores the voice in her head telling her that she will also maybe have to come out to paige at some point. if they talk and y’know. things go the way azzi is somehow already desperately hoping they will), and she’d always kind of known, in an abstract sense anyway, that she was attracted to women, but she’d never really had a crush on one or had the inclination to actually do anything about that thought so it had sat on the backburner, something she only really thought about when she was drunk, or lonely, or some combination of the two.

she figures she can work out whether she’s ever even been into men at all at a later date. all she can think about right now is paige anyways, and it's childish, but she’s almost annoyed at how cliche she feels for having her gay realization be the blonde, like she’s just another fangirl in paige’s tik tok comment section writing some variation of ‘i'm straight, but its paige bueckers!’

and it’s stupid, but it feels like she’s feeding into paige's ego by just acknowledging this space that’s been carved out in her chest. paige had always been droning on and on about how much rizz she had, how everybody wanted her, and azzi had loved nothing more than humbling her, calling her conceited and egotistical and stupid, and well. it seems azzi had been the stupid one all along.

she knows, though, that this feeling, this thing in her chest that has somehow ballooned inside of her overnight, runs much, much deeper than the silly, surface level attraction that most people attributed to paige. and she also reasons that she knows paige, both her flaws and her insecurities and the parts that make her so wonderful, in a way that none of the teenage girls on tiktok could ever begin to even dream of.

being in love with paige (and she guesses she’s really acknowledging it now, so that's. cool.) didn’t feel like a fluke, but rather something that was simply innate inside of her, ever humming under her skin.

she curses the universe for giving her this mid-life crisis eight days before she has to hop on the flight that will take her directly to paige’s city, but there's an underlying feeling of hope, too, that she tries to squash. she firmly ignores the thought that it feels a little bit like a cosmic sign.

paige having a woman she was almost certainly sleeping with, minimum, in the background of her phone at 1am also kinda felt like a cosmic sign. a sign that meant it's too late.

and. oh god. she needs to text paige about dallas.

and what the fuck to you say to your ex best friend who you hypothetically were (are?) in love with and drunkenly called crying after a year of not speaking one-on-one to try and plan a hangout? your ex best homoerotic friend who maybe has a new girl?

but paige had insinuated that she wasn’t expecting azzi to actually reach out, which, aside from the fact that azzi did want to, also made it somewhat of a competition, and azzi didn’t lose competitions. especially against paige.

it's already nearing 10 am, and even though paige is an hour behind, she wants to make it clear that she’s true to her word. paige had seemed like she’d wanted her to text, too, and. she’d said she missed her. a lot.

she types out the first thing she thinks of, u gonna show me your cowboy boots collection or what, and sends it before she can talk herself out of it.

the anger at paige from the night before is still simmering in her blood, a little bit, because what the fuck? they haven't talked in a year and it was paige’s fault. but also. azzi knows paige, even after all this time, and. she has a growing hunch that instead of the callous disregard for azzi and their friendship that paige had tried so hard to portray, azzi is starting to think that it had been hurt, not indifference, that had caused paige to distance them.

when paige doesn’t immediately respond to azzi’s text and profess her undying love for azzi and azzi only, she tries to convince her immune system that she did not, in fact, just drink poison and she was not, in fact, having a heart attack.

and god, was it normal to feel like she was dying after sending a text? yesterday-azzi was lucky as fuck that she thought she hadn’t been in love because this fucking sucked.

she makes breakfast with her anxiety at an all time high, checking her phone every sixty seconds and nearly burning her omelette. as the minutes tick by, azzi tries to resign herself to the reality that maybe paige had told her to text because she didn’t believe azzi would, not in spite of it.

but then, as azzi is throwing things in her bag to leave for the facilities and bombard aaliyah with questions and a borderline mental breakdown, she feels her phone buzz in her pocket. she drops her water bottle on her foot in her haste to check what it says, and it hurts like a bitch, but paige responds with ‘unfortunately only one pair of boots. but im sure my hat collection will impress u’ and well.

azzi’s foot could be broken for all she cares, because paige responded and she’s texting like old paige, and maybe it's flirting, maybe it's not, azzi clearly has no idea, but it's a million times better than the one-word messages she received throughout last year, and.

hope blooms, slow and steady, in azzi’s heart, despite her attempts to squash it.

…

azzi: please tell me you don’t actually wear any of them outside the house

paige: u have to wear one here at all times or they’ll kill u

paige: texas is no joke

azzi: so i guess i’ll need to borrow one when im down there then

paige: when do u fly in

paige: ill give u the pick of the litter

…

(azzi does not shriek when she sees that text after practice. she does not.)

…

three days before azzi flies to dallas (and potentially lights herself on fire), she has a moment of weakness. after a particularly tiring lift and a day without more than a few new texts from paige, she settles into bed freshly showered with her laptop propped open on a pillow. she means to put on the rest of the abbot elementary episode she’d been watching earlier, but her fingers apparently aren’t connected to the rest of her body because they type in “paige bueckers and azzi fudd” into the youtube search bar instead.

a couple nonsense videos pop up before her eyes catch on to the SLAM interview they’d done together right before azzi’s freshman year season. she clicks the link before she can chicken out.

it's a behind the scenes, with interview anecdotes thrown in between clips of them messing around, and they look so young. and jesus the way paige is looking at her. like she hangs the moon in the sky. and eighteen year old azzi isn’t much better, and she can’t keep her eyes off the blonde for more than five milliseconds, and they’re, well, they’re flirting right in front of current azzi’s face, and good god. no wonder everyone had thought something was going on.

if azzi hadn’t lived through it, known the way they’d only ever tiptoed the line, never crossing, she would’ve thought so too.

she makes it six minutes into the video before she slams her laptop shut, rolls over, and screams bloody murder into her pillowcase.

…

the mystics don’t fly down until the night before, and their game is in the afternoon, so she and paige make tentative plans to hang out after azzi ‘find[s] out what happens when you mess with texas.’

paige is a dork, and an unfunny one at that. she hearts the message when azzi tells her as much, and azzi has to hide her smile in the hood of her sweatshirt so georgia doesn’t ask any pestering questions when paige adds ‘unfunny maybe but a loser? never.’

azzi really, really hopes that this text-flirting or whatever they’re doing means that paige doesn’t have a girlfriend. she doesn’t think her heart could take it if she did, and she doesn’t understand how paige (maybe? she’s being optimistic. sue her.) lived with these feelings for so long and didn’t act on them because it's been a singular week of occasional texting and only that has azzi feeling like she’s going to tear her hair out.

the flight to dallas and subsequent restless night of sleep in a mediocre hotel room crawls by so slowly that azzi feels like she’s been physically transported to a planet in which every minute that goes by is actually an hour. or something. she doesn’t remember the plot of interstellar but she feels like messy time travel and space stuff like that was part of it. maybe it's happening to her. stranger things have occurred.

(like not knowing you were in love with your best friend for eight years)

(she doesn’t remember the plot of interstellar because the uconn team had watched it one slow off-season afternoon, and azzi had let paige coax her into taking an edible, gotten ridiculously high and scared, and had spent the entire movie with her face tucked into paige’s shoulder, letting the hands rubbing her back and stupid commentary in her ear lull her into safety)

(fuck everything)

…

and then the most dreaded and anticipated day of azzi’s short, miserable life so far is upon her. thank god it’s a saturday game, so tipoff is at 2:00, and she doesn’t have to drown in anxiety for a whole day beforehand, because breakfast and the pregame meeting in the hotel is tortuous enough as is.

kiki has to forcefully put her hand on azzi’s leg on the bus to get it to stop jumping up and down, and everyone knows not to bring up anything related to paige in front azzi, and she hasn’t said anything to anyone other the aaliyah about how they’re speaking again, but she can feel the sideways glances her teammates are sharing behind her back and her brain itches.

they warm up on the court after the wings are done with their shooting drills, meaning azzi only gets a glance of paige disappearing back into the tunnel when they head out to stretch, but it's enough to transform her anxiety from a level 6 on the richter scale to a solid, nauseating 8.

there’s signs of paige everywhere: posters with her face all over the walls, her number plastered on the sides of the hallway they have to walk down to get to the arena, and, worst of all, fans milling about, decked out completely in #5 jerseys and paige paraphernalia. several have carefully drawn out posters and clever slogans, clamoring in the stands to get as close as possible in an attempt to gain the one and only paige bueckers’ attention. and azzi can’t even fucking blame them, as pitiful as it is, because she wants paige’s attention on her, too. probably more than any of these fans combined.

a twisted, irrational seed of jealousy takes root in her heart when she thinks about how these fans have gotten to see paige grow and blossom over the last year and a half, how paige had left connecticut and the team and azzi and come here and immediately charmed the hearts of this entire stupid city, not caring what, or rather, who she left behind.

and fuck texas and their stupid cowboy boots and hot weather and their ability to win over really pretty blonde girls and entrap them in their clutches.

her shots are off during warmups, and it takes everything in her not to turn around and look for a familiar blonde head when they announce the starting lineup and paige’s name is called, but then that effort is entirely futile because paige’s face is suddenly plastered on every single god-forsaken screen in the entire arena as she runs back out through tunnel. and she looks so cool and confident and definitely not like she’s having a tweak-fest about her ex best friend being in such close proximity. and life isn’t fair.

and azzi loses her breath for a second at how stunningly beautiful paige is. she’s always been gorgeous, even self-proclaimed-straight-azzi had known that, but something about paige in the center of the basketball court, completely in her element, has always made her look more magnetic than usual.

paige’s eyes flit across the visiting team’s bench for a second, like she’s looking for someone, looking for azzi, and she wants to jump up and wave her arms or do something equally as ridiculous to get her attention, but it turns out she doesn’t need to because then blue eyes find azzi’s without any help, like a magnet, and, wow, azzi had thought that she’d mentally prepared herself for this as much as possible, but she’d been horribly, terribly wrong.

paige seems almost bashful when her face tilts into a lopsided grin, and azzi’s heart is doing this weird little flipping thing inside of her chest, which, it's never done that before, or maybe it had and she’d just never noticed because she’s an idiot, but regardless, azzi grins back, eyes probably all squinty and everything, and she really hopes no one is paying attention to them right now because she knows she looks absolutely sick in the head.

she feels bolder than usual all of a sudden, adrenaline coursing through her and the high of having paige’s attention on her after all these months must be messing with her brain to mouth filter, because then she’s mouthing “you ready to lose?” to the blonde girl across the arena.

paige’s smile drops in exaggerated offense and she’s getting nudged by her teammates to pay attention to something else but she smirks lazily, and flips azzi off before her attention is dragged into their huddle.

and azzi feels woozy- like a fucking cartoon character with little birds circling her head. lord give her strength. paige flips her off and suddenly she’s acting like the blonde girl came over and proposed or something. this whole thing is so. stupid.

the anthem and pre-game huddle is a blur of nerves and trying not to get caught staring at the back of paige’s head. and then it’s tip off, and blessedly, graciously, they’re not guarding each other, and azzi tries valiantly to focus on the ball and her teammates’ positioning and not on the blonde in her peripheral vision.

she’s off balance though, only making one of her first four shots, and she knows exactly why that is and it's so frustrating because paige already has seven points and seems entirely unaffected.

and then, six minutes into the game, paige knocks the ball away from kiki in a breakaway, and azzi is the only one who has a chance at stopping her from a simple, uncontested layup. they run up the court together, paige just out of azzi’s reach until they get to the paint. and azzi knows exactly the move paige is going to pull, could draw it up in her sleep, and the only real way to stop it is to throw her hip out and jump up at the exact second she knows paige will release the ball and pray that her hand makes contact with rubber and not skin.

and she does knock the ball away, fuck you, paige blockers, but her hip also makes contact with paige’s side and she goes sprawling, sliding across the linoleum. azzi has a split second of panic that she’s actually hurt paige, but paige is grinning up at her, the drama queen, and azzi groans when she hears the familiar whistle of a foul call somewhere behind her.

azzi’s hand grips paige’s to pull her up, other hand going out to steady her hip, and the first real skin on skin contact in a year shocks her to her core. her fingers are tingling, and how on earth was she able to ignore the feeling that arises in her whenever paige is close to her for so long because it feels like the world has stopped spinning on its axis for a second.

nothing had ever been able to pry azzi’s attention away from basketball before, except for paige, (which. add that to the list of things that probably should have clued her in years ago) and it’s even worse now that azzi understands why that was the case.

and they are in the middle of a basketball court on live television with thousands of people watching their every move and azzi is still gripping paige’s hand. and someone needs to put her in a psychiatric hospital or something.

she regrettably pulls her fingers away from the taller girl’s grasp and immediately misses the contact.

“you playin’ dirty cause you don’t think you can win?” paige taunts, but she’s grinning at azzi like she knows it was an accident, and her face is flushed from the first few minutes of running and she looks positively edible and. how azzi thought of herself as immune to paige’s charm for so long is well beyond her now because she wants to do. a lot of things, actually, but she needs to focus on basketball right now. because again. middle of the basketball court.

“shut up, cheater. you’re the one flopping around trying to get a call,” is her very mature and reasonable retort.

and oh. azzi realizes again, in real time, what everyone was talking about when they used to say that her and paige were constantly flirting. because her hand is still on the taller girl's hip (just to steady her. yeah right.) and paige is smirking down at her and azzi is teasing her and- oh my god she’s been so stupid.

the familiar spark of competition (and probably some other things. like attraction. whatever.) lights up between them like no time has passed since they were staying late after practices and running shooting drills just the two of them, and azzi feels herself settle for the first time since she caught sight of paige warming up.

she’d been worried that she’d be too distracted by paige’s presence to play well, but the feeling of blue eyes on the back of her neck whenever she has the ball, and even when she doesn’t, fuels her like nothing else.

by halftime, she has 19 points.

and when the mystics finally edge out an unexpected, much needed win, there’s a 34 next to azzi’s name in the box score. she only misses two shots after her exchange with paige in the first quarter.

and it's merely an out of conference win, but it's a close one because paige had played well too, and she can feel the satisfaction of a well-fought game settling in her bones, and the added bonus of beating paige, specifically, is making her feel like she's on cloud nine.

they keep their post game hug short and cordial (or. as cordial as a paige burying her face in azzi’s neck and azzi gripping her shoulders as tight as possible can be) (azzi might be delusional but she swears the crowd gets louder when they hug)

she kind of never wants it to end, and misses her instantly when paige pulls away, but then paige stays close when they separate, and looks nothing but proud when she congratulates azzi, asking “you tryna outdo my rookie of the year performance?”

azzi is grateful for the flush on her cheeks from the game, so it masks how hot her blood gets at the question. “maybe, we’ll see,” is the only thing she can come up with in response, and it sounds coy even to her own ears.

“i know we will” is paige’s fond response, and there’s cameras surrounding them and azzi’s not stupid enough to bring up their post-game plans right now but she wants to so she just hums and stands there, probably looking like a fucking adoring idiot.

paige smiles, big this time, despite their loss, and tugs azzi back into a much briefer hug. it’s friendly for the cameras, and quick, but paige manages to tuck an “i'll text you” into azzi's shoulder before she’s pulling away and leaving azzi to watch helplessly after her as she’s immediately swarmed by teammates and media.

and winning the game was fun and great and awesome or whatever, but the mile-wide smile on azzi’s face has a lot more to do with residual tingling of paige’s hugs than anything else. she is so stupendously screwed.

…

the press conference goes by torturously slow because azzi doesn’t have time to check her phone beforehand, but they only ask her one question about paige so she counts it as another win.

(they ask azzi if this victory is sweeter because paige is on the other team and azzi answers with a really eloquent “yes,” and doesn’t elaborate when asked. her teammates nearly wet themselves with laughter)

azzi almost falls out of her chair in her attempt to get up as fast as possible when they’re released from press, and it takes everything in her not to sprint back to the locker room to check her phone. aaliyah doesn’t even try to hide her laughter.

three texts from paige from 10 minutes prior are waiting for her when she finally gets back to her locker.

paige: about to hop in shower

paige: wanna j do something straight from here

paige: or we can do something later if u wanna go back to hotel first idc

the three separate texts means that paige is nervous, and some satisfaction settles in azzi’s stomach, but it’s overshadowed by the fact that she’s left the decision making to azzi.

she debates it for two seconds before deciding she might run into oncoming traffic or something equally as gruesome if left to her own thoughts for more than 5 minutes. she hearts the second text.

azzi: if u wait for me to shower i can be ready in 20

and then she’s only 20 minutes away from being one-on-one with paige for the first time in a year. her shower goes by in a haze and she hopes she remembered to like. use body wash but she can’t really recall because her mind is an abyss of nausea and stress and the little glimmer of hope that she keeps trying to make shut up.

paige’s ‘kk call me when ur ready and ill tell u where to go’ is waiting for her when she gets out, and she curses herself for only packing a pair of old sweats and a tank top. whatever. it’s not like she needs to impress paige anyway- she’d seen her in every state of dress from black tie evening gowns to pajamas- but still. she’s stressed.

and then she’s slipping out of the locker room (she’s not doing anything wrong, but she still feels a little bit like she’s sneaking around, trying to avoid questions on where she’s going from her teammates), and calling paige, and letting her voice guide through a hallway and out a couple doors and into the parking lot.

she hangs up when she sees paige’s recognizable grey jeep ahead of her, and something settles in her stomach at the familiar sight. she’d been in the passenger seat of this car a million and one times.

but then she’s opening the door and, wow, she feels the furthest thing from settled because there is paige, sitting in the driver's seat and looking clean and nervous and adorably small in an oversized hoodie and shorts. her hair is down and still damp, and she’s wearing glasses, and her hands are fidgeting with her phone in her lap, partially covered by the cuffs of her sweatshirt, and azzi feels something crack in her chest. because how had she not realized that this was exactly what she’d wanted all along?

“hi” paige greets her, voice small and a little shy.

azzi’s answering “hey, loser” sounds just as bashful and wow, what have they become?

but then azzi climbs into the passenger seat as paige groans and says “i knew that would be the first thing you’d bring up” and they fall into the ease of bickering about the game and the music paige is playing, and as they pull out of the garage and into the bright afternoon dallas sun, azzi relaxes a bit into her seat.

they decide to drop their stuff off at paige’s apartment before potentially heading out to find some dinner, and it’s weird- how normal it feels, even though they haven’t done this in forever. azzi still has an undercurrent of panic coursing through her, and she knows she’s looking at paige a little weirdly because the blonde keeps glancing at her funny, like she’s trying to figure something out and can’t quite place what’s changed, but despite that, they fall right back into the simplicity and comfort that each others company has always held.

until paige decides to ruin the ease of their conversation by glancing across the car at a red light and asking “you gonna tell me why you’re looking at me funny?”

azzi squirms. debates jumping out, ladybird style. decides against it only because the risk/reward ratio is particularly low. she could deny it, call paige crazy, but that seems useless when she plans on bringing it up when they get inside in 10 minutes anyways. she was planning on waiting until after dinner, but the thrill of having paige within arms reach is making her antsy and she knows she won’t be able to wait that long.

“no,” she replies. at paige’s sideways glare, she relents, “when we get inside.”

paige hums, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, and the relaxed environment turns tense in seconds. the remainder of the drive is silent, and it's not awkward, necessarily, but anticipatory, tension clogging azzi’s lungs.

she fiddles with the ac vents and tries to stop herself from thinking at all. she fails, obviously, and her mind is a mess of paige and random moments from their time at uconn and, the girl in the back of the phone call, and. somehow her hands are shaking. perfect.

she is somehow both thankful and miserable they’re almost there.

they finally pull into paige’s complex, and the mostly silent walk through the garage and elevator ride only further serves to heighten her anxiety. and then paige is pulling out her keys and opening the door and.

they barely get inside before azzi is rounding on her, dropping her bag on the floor and backing up to lean against the opposing wall. she’d planned this part out in her mind a hundred times, dissecting all the possible pros and cons of asking in different ways, figuring out how to slowly work up to the question that’s been eating her alive since the the all star break, but one look at paige’s confused face and the adrenaline that's been coursing through her veins throughout the whole car ride has her sidestepping logic and reason entirely and blurting out a strangled “were we in love?”

she’s pretty confident she knows the answer, but the ensuing silence is agonizing anyway.

azzi can see the second paige processes her question, her face dropping in utter disbelief, and something like heartbreak splinters in her eyes at azzi’s words. paige’s arms go limp at her sides, her keys slipping to the ground beside her, and the jangle of metal against the hardwood floor is deafening in the silence of her entryway.

“azzi,” paige chokes on her name, like it causes her physical pain. she looks shell-shocked, like she can’t breathe, and azzi can’t breathe either, but she needs to know anyway.

“were we in love, paige? were you in love with me?” she asks again, more desperate this time, the words ripping out of her chest almost without her permission. she feels out of control. between the two of them, paige was always the one to push things too far, press and press until azzi was forced to answer her questions or shut down, and the whip-lash of that role reversal is clear on the older girl’s face.

still, paige is silent, gaping at her in shock.

just as azzi opens her mouth to ask a third time, paige closes the gap between them with two steps and seals their mouths together in a desperate, searing kiss.

azzi’s hands fly to paige's chest immediately, and the blonde’s hands find their place on the sides of her face, cupping her cheeks. azzi opens for her in seconds, and paige makes a wretched, helpless sound in the back of her throat as their tongues meet. she drags one hand down to azzi’s waist and pulls her closer, fingering the gap between her sweats and tank top, and azzi’s hands grip her shirt in return, needing her as close as possible.

and wow. okay. if there was any lingering doubt in azzi’s mind about whether or not she was into women, into paige, it evaporates into thin air, heat pooling immediately in her stomach.

and also. paige probably doesn’t have a girlfriend if she’s kissing azzi senseless in her foyer. the relief of that makes her needy, desperate.

she feels wild with it, with the sudden release of this desire for paige that's been hibernating just under her skin for years, and as paige presses her back into the wall, all azzi can think to do is tug her as close as possible. her hands move again, this time sliding up to the back of paige’s neck, everywhere they can reach, and when they separate from each other for a second to breathe, foreheads pressed together, azzi’s eyes flutter open to probably the prettiest version of paige she’s ever seen.

she looks absolutely ruined, cheeks flushed and mouth swollen, and azzi feels drunk on the look in her eyes, gazing at her like azzi is the sun and the moon and the whole fucking solar system too. and she’s struck with the thought that they probably could have been doing this for years, probably should have been doing this for years.

“did you- azzi- did you not know?” is the first thing paige gets out, voice sounding wrecked with emotion and something else, and if azzi had a nickel for every time someone had seemed incredulous that she hadn’t known about paige and her being in love, she’d have five fucking nickels. five nickels to place on the shelf next to her #1 stupidest person on earth trophy.

azzi can’t help but sound indignant when she sputters out “well no one told me!”

paige just looks at her for a second, like she’s trying to cement this as real, and then she smiles, small and beautiful and just for azzi.

“you’re stupid” is her only retort. and, well. yeah.

and she looks like she’s about to cry but in a good way azzi thinks, and then azzi can’t see her face anymore because they’re kissing again. she makes a sound in the back of her throat that she will not be recounting when paige slips a hand underneath her tank top, pressing her fingers to her ribs, and jesus, they’ve been making out for maybe a total of two minutes max and she already feels like she’s going to melt into a puddle on the floor.

paige kisses her like she means it, like she’s starving for it, and azzi didn’t know it until right now but it's exactly the way she likes to be kissed.

paige wedges a leg between azzi’s, somehow pressing closer, and this is really nice and azzi really doesn’t want to stop but also. they need to actually discuss this before she lets paige do something stupid like finger her in the hallway or drag her off to her bedroom. she might be jumping the gun but also. one of paige’s hands is sliding underneath the waistband of her sweats to caress the smooth skin of her hip, teasing. and, and. she really needs to stop this before her fingers dip any lower because she knows any coherent thought she has will crumble into nothingness.

she tugs her mouth away for a second, and murmurs out a breathless “paige” in between kisses. she receives a contented grunt in response.

“paige-” she tries again, except the older girl simply hums and moves lower, pressing open-mouthed kissed down her neck instead. azzi’s brain goes blank for a second, nothing but thoughts of paige’s mouth on her neck and her hands on her waist. but.

they do need to talk about this. regretfully.

“paige, we need to- to talk about this,” she stutters out, and when paige still seems undeterred, having moved down to attempt to suck a mark into azzi’s collarbone, she adds, “before we have sex.”

she tries to look away, so she doesn’t have to see the smug grin that she knows will spread across paige’s face at her words, but a consequence of furiously making out with the blonde is that their faces are still inches apart, so she still sees the sly smirk on paige’s stupid, self-satisfied face.

“who said anything about sex, hmm?” she crows, and azzi blushes, and then looks down pointedly at paige’s hand that is currently slipping under the waistband of her sweats.

“oh i’m sorry, was that not on your agenda?” she asks, teasing, and pushes herself out from underneath paige, walking down the hallway towards the living room, smiling to herself at the immediate feeling of paige’s hands back on her hips, grasping at her to keep her close.

“no, no, azzi, c’mon, i’m jus’ playing, come back here,” and she actually sounds a little bit worried, as if azzi will somehow change her mind or something ridiculous.

she spins back to face paige when she gets to the couch, and laughs at the look on her face, hopeful and kind of like a puppy dog. it's definitely a diversion tactic and it almost works, she almost says fuck it and drags paige further into the apartment in search of the bedroom, but she stays strong.

“talk first, and then you can give me a very thorough tour of the rest of your apartment,” she assures, and paige relents, but not before pressing a short, close-mouthed kiss to azzi’s lips, as if sealing the deal.

“‘kay. i’m holding you to that,” she adds, but she looks unsure of herself, and then they’re just standing there like idiots in the evening light of paige’s apartment, looking at each other.

azzi decides she wants to be sitting for this, so she kicks off her slides and drops onto the couch behind her.

for a second, paige looks like she doesn’t know what to do or where to sit, and she’s never been unsure of invading azzi’s personal space before, so azzi just rolls her eyes and tugs her down onto the couch next to her. paige flops down, sprawled out next to azzi, and they settle into the cushions, azzi curled underneath paige’s arm, facing her, legs crossed and socked feet tucking under paige’s thigh.

paige is quiet, waiting for azzi to formulate how she wants to start this, and she’s grateful for the silence as she mentally grapples with how to open this particular can of worms.

she settles on “can you tell me what happened the night of the championship?”

might as well start out with the big guns.

paige inhales sharply, and she looks like she really doesn’t want to recount that night, so azzi gently takes one of her hands in her own and tangles their fingers.

“you don’t remember?” she mumbles, and her voice sounds so small, not at all like the confident paige that had just been giving azzi shit and kissing the living daylights out of her.

“no, only. only that we kissed, but even that’s hazy. and i had a mark,” she reaches up with paige's hand still tangled in hers and presses at her collarbone, “right here.”

“yeah.” paige’s voice breaks on the acknowledgement, and she looks like she’s gonna cry at the reminder, eyes watery where they gaze at the spot that her fingers are pressing into. azzi’s heart squeezes in her chest. she looks a little relieved, though, that azzi can’t recall what happened.

“if i’d known you were that drunk i wouldn’t have…” she trails off, voice shaky, and azzi cuts in.

“you were drunk too paige, s’not your fault.”

paige hums. when azzi squeezes her fingers, she continues. “it was such a good night until then. we were so drunk, and you were so happy, and you were clinging onto me like it-” her voice breaks, and azzi leans further into her side to try and comfort her. they’re both already crying a little bit, and her heart squeezes, again, but she needs to hear this before they go any further.

“like it meant something. something more than usual. and then you wanted to go upstairs and i kept thinking finally. and. and i kissed you when we got to my room and you seemed so into it. and then i said-” she cuts off again, and azzi feels dread pool in her gut. she isn’t sure she actually wants to hear this story but she can’t stop listening.

“i told you i was in love with you, like an idiot, and you-” she inhales, through her tears, like she’s steeling herself, and azzi squeezes her eyes shut in preparation, gripping paige’s hand tighter.

“you asked me why i had to ruin it, why we couldn’t just kiss without it meaning anything.”

azzi makes a wounded sound, curling closer, and paige is sobbing now, and this is so, so much worse than she’d thought.

“paige.” is the only thing she can get out as comfort, and now she's sobbing too. god she’d been so, so stupid. “i didn’t know.” she shifts, and then climbs all the way into paige’s lap, trying to ease the hurt that her unconscious drunk mind had caused and pressing a messy kiss to her hairline. she tries to get as close as possible as a reminder that they're here now, not in a shitty hotel room in tampa.

god. no wonder paige had distanced herself. azzi doesn’t even know what she’d have done. probably run straight out of that hotel and thrown herself off a cliff

paige isn’t done, though, and azzi briefly wonders how it could possibly get worse, before regretting her curiosity instantly.

“and then you got mad when i wouldn’t. wouldn’t just keep going. and i asked if we could jus’ talk about it in the morning and you promised that we would.” paige presses the words into azzi shoulder, bring her arms up to wrap around the younger girl’s back. her tank top is wet from paige’s tears and. this whole thing has azzi sick to her stomach.

she presses a sob into paige’s hair, and she knows the next part but she lets her finish anyway.

“and then you didn’t say anything the next morning and i didn’t know if you didn’t remember or if you just didn’t want to talk about it, but either way i just. couldn’t do it anymore.” her voice is shot, and she’s still crying, but she looks relieved to have finished.

azzi lets the silence sit for a minute before responding. “i thought you regretted kissing me. or whatever happened, i couldn’t remember. and then you just. stopped, like, wanting to be friends, and i thought you’d decided you didn’t need me anymore,” azzi releases through tears, and her heart breaks for both of them at the stupidity of the last year.

a “no!” rips from paige’s chest, insulted, and she laughs humorlessly. “az, i’ll always need you. for god sake, i pretty much just moped for the entire year plus. arike banned your name ‘cause she got tired of listening to me whine about how much i missed you.” she looks up at azzi through her eyelashes, tears clumped together, and she looks so beautiful, despite them, that azzi’s heart breaks all over again.

“if it makes you feel better, i missed you just as bad, except i wouldn’t talk to anyone about it. the whole team knew not to bring you up around me cause i would just shut down.”

she knocks their foreheads together, gently, in affection before continuing, “one of the freshmen got your old room and i wouldn’t go anywhere near it.”

paige smiles, brokenly, at that. “bet she didn’t decorate it as well as me.”

it's not really funny, but azzi lets out a watery giggle anyways, pressing it into the curve of paige’s brow. “she probably didn’t have a blanket over the blinds though.”

paige hums in agreement, and motions for azzi to continue before starting to trace lines on azzi’s back.

azzi takes a deep breath before speaking. “over the break we went to dinner, me ‘n lili and a couple others. and somehow like dating and stuff got brought up and she asked me if i’d ever been in love. and i said no.”

paige tenses under her, but azzi squeezes their hands that are still tangled together and waits until she relaxes again to continue.

“and none of them believed me. they all thought we’d been dating in secret or whatever. and i couldn’t believe it but then i started thinking about it and. and then i got home and called my mom, and asked her if i’d been in love with you,” she pauses for a second, trying to get her words straight. paige’s hand on her back falters for a second, before continuing, slow and steady, and it grounds her.

“and she said if i was asking her than i already knew.”

paige laughs a little bit, commenting “‘course she did.”

“i know,” she agrees, “and then. well. i got really drunk and somehow thought it was a good idea to call you.”

paige smiles, a little crookedly. “wasn’t your worst idea, though.”

azzi hums in agreement. “no, it wasn’t”

paige opens her mouth to say something and then stops, reconsidering.

azzi narrows her eyes. “what,” she prods, needing to know everything.

paige hesitates again before continuing. “i thought god was punishing me when i saw who was calling. i’d just made the first step in so long to try and get over you, finally relented to all my teammates telling me to get laid for the first time in over a year and. here you were calling me for the first time in forever like you knew i’d just spent half an hour pretending the girl on top of me was you.” she shakes her head, laughing a little. “i left as soon as i hung up. cried all the way home.”

and azzi knows it’s fucked up, but satisfaction settels in her bones at the knowledge that paige hadn’t been sleeping her way through texas in azzi’s absence like she’d thought, even if the reminder of the girl on the phone kills her a little.

“i wanted to die when i heard her voice. almost hung up you,” she gets out, and paige presses a kiss to her shoulder in response.

“baby, i haven’t wanted anyone but you since i was like, sixteen.”

the word baby echoes inside azzi’s head and she smiles, ducking her head.

“maybe if you’d ever told me that-”

“-i did tell you-” paige protests, but azzi’s having none of it.

“sober- if you’d told me sober i probably would’ve figured out i was in love you a lot quicker.”

paige huffs. “azzi, the entire world knew i was in love with you. obviously i thought you knew, too, ” and then, when azzi’s words sink in a bit more, and she adds, a little in awe, “you’re in love with me? like, forreal?”

azzi doesn’t bother correcting her verb tense. it might seem stupid to already be saying i love you when they haven’t actually had a conversation in a year, but she knows with more certainty than anything ever that this is a past and a present and a future kind of thing.

“obviously.” is her only response, gesturing to where she’s sitting on paige’s lap, their fingers still curled together.

and paige’s smile is positively blinding as she leans up to press their mouths together, murmuring “s’ fire.”

honestly. you’d think she’d be a little more romantic.

and their faces are both damp from tears, but it doesn’t matter because paige is kissing her like her laugh is the best thing she’s ever tasted, and maybe it is.

and paige flips them somehow (azzi isn’t really paying attention to the logistics, too focused on the patch of skin she finds below paige’s ear that makes her keen) and they end up pressed into the couch, paige laying on top of her.

azzi finds paige’s mouth again, fingers tangling in her hair, and paige presses their hips together, swallowing the brunettes' moan at the contact.

and then paige pulls back above her and grins.

“so can we have sex now,” she questions, and azzi rolls her eyes, shoving at her shoulder.

“way to be a romantic, p,” she responds, but it just sounds fond instead of annoyed.

“excuse you, i am such a romantic,” she retorts, and at azzi’s unimpressed look, she tries again. “azzi jazlyn, i am very much in love with you, can i please make sweet, sweet love to you?”

azzi groans, but it’s kind of a futile attempt to seem like she’s not utterly charmed, because she lets paige tug her up off the couch anyways.

and there are still residual tear tracks on their faces, and more conversations to be had, but as she chases paige down the hallway to her bedroom, laughter flowing freely from them both, she figures they can figure that out later. right now, this is enough.

AN: ummmm thank you for reading? pleaseeee comment/send me asks it literally makes my whole entire day and I need all the love I can get over the next week of hell (finals). i know i said i was writing smut and i ammmm it just is taking me. a while. so i cut it off here. but maybe keep your eye out for more of these two being freaky? idk. also if you wanna like see any more from them pls let me know what that would be! i have a couple ideas for a paige pov but it would be really angsty. and also a few about like their friends and fam finding out and being like THANK FUCK. took u long enough. idk. again, only time will tell but I can confirm that comments and asks do wonders for my creativity soooo. please do that! ok bye now <3

#iwkpa #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige x azzi #like again do i need more tags? idfk #please tell me how you like this im BEGGING #ok back to my homework

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myownwholewildworld · 1 day ago

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I'm begging you pleaseeee write something where oldmanjoel gets his girl pregnant. I can even see the smug look in his eyes as he walks around Jackson with you, making sure everyone sees how you're glowing, belly swollen with his kid. You, a pretty young thing, allowed a dirty old man like him to claim you like that. Jesus I'm foaming at the mouth wtfffff god bless Viagra

he'd be the proudest, wouldn't he? would think he's the luckiest man alive. he wouldn't have as many problems to get it up either, i'm sure the sight of you pregnant would have him at half mast without an issue. i wonder if he'd have a lactation kink too? and you? you're hornier than ever, so much so, you don't even care you're in public... mhm...

old man!joel miller filth under the cut 👇

All eyes were on you whenever you both were out in public. How could they not be? You held Joel’s hand unashamedly, kissed his knuckles reassuringly if anyone dared to throw him a side glance. This was your old man. The father of your future child. And he knew it—damn, did he know it. Joel would make sure everyone knew who had claimed you, who you belonged to. He was very protective of you, of his baby too. His calloused hand would distractedly caress your very swollen belly over your sundress at any given chance, like he was doing now. You were thirty-six weeks pregnant, perfectly round with his kid. And Joel couldn’t, quite literally, get his hands off you. At every small opportunity, he’d touch you—his fingers squeezing yours, the palm of his hand protectively spread on the small of your back, his lips kissing your temple.

In bed, Joel was insatiable—he’d wake you up eating your sweet pussy, or fingering you, or worshipping your oversensitive boobs. And when you were putty in his arms after a few orgasms, Joel would kiss your tummy, speak to his child about the wonderful life you three would live together, about how much he loved them already. It melted your heart, filled your soul with a warmth you had not known for a long time now. Life was good. And you had never been hornier for Joel—the pregnancy hormones running wild through your veins, getting aroused just by merely thinking of him ploughing you into the mattress, on the kitchen’s counter, against a wall, in the bath, on the rug by the chimney. There was no surface in your home which had not been sweat on. But you were not at home, you were out in public, and your cunt was getting embarrassingly wet. You could feel the slick between your folds, securely trapped in your slit while your clit throbbed. “Joel, I need to sit down,” you interrupted his conversation with a man. His eyes shot to yours with worry and said his goodbyes to the man before guiding you to a bench in the community hall. He sat down and quickly manoeuvred you to have you perched sideways on his lap. “What is it, sweetheart?” Your pout curled up into a grin, your lips pressed to his ear. “I’m wet, baby. So much I worry it might soak through my sundress,” you admitted in a whisper, kissing his cheek. Joel straightened his back, and you felt a pulse radiating from his bulge lodged between your buttocks. His fingers dug in the flesh of your hip before dropping and smoothing out over your ass cheek. His body was catching up, another throb coming from him when you grinded your ass on him. “You have no underwear on,” he croaked, pecking your right shoulder. You giggled, shaking your head. “Nope. I thought it’d be easier… just in case… you know…” you mumbled while your right hand sneakily slithered down. You slightly lifted off your right leg so your fingers could find the zipper in his trousers and pull it down. Your hand curled around his growing erection to free it from its imprisonment, and you quickly readjusted your position on his lap, so his girthy cock was pressing against your puffy pussy lips. Joel bit the skin on your shoulder to rein in a moan. Your smile widened. “In case you wanted to fuck me here? Now? So everybody can see how good you make me feel, how good you use and destroy my pussy, how good I take your cock… How good you fuck me. So they see why I am yours and only yours,” you teased him, squirming a little. “Fuck,” Joel groaned between clenched teeth. He could never say no to you.

#asked and answered #anon #i swear i would let him fuck me stupid in public #so everyone would see how i cream on his cock asdfghjklñ #old man!joel miller #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character #ppcu fanfiction

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seitmai · 1 day ago

Text

Many thoughts

A smile touched your face when the hand on your hip gripped you tighter. Carefully turning to face the man beside you who still had his eyes closed, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your smile widened when he leaned into your touch. Asleep or awake, he always sought it out. And this was a person who didn't let most people touch him. But I can because he’s my man.

Period 😌

“Morning, my treasure.” The affectionate pet name was one you'd never grow tired of. It did make you giggle the first time he called you that. He had lots of money, more than you could ever fathom, and could buy all the treasures he could ever desire, yet he thought you were treasure. His most precious thing.

Urgh what a great backstory for the nickname 🥰

“Slept very well. I had very good dreams.” His nose brushed your forehead before his lips touched it. You were happy to hear that. “In fact, I can show you exactly what I dreamt about if you’d like.”

Oop 👀

Bucky didn't ask for much. One of the only things he requested when you began your journey together was that you’d sit and have meals with him. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a time for the two of you to talk about anything and everything, though he preferred to focus on the present and the future instead of the past. You understood. You didn't like dwelling on the past either since your life was much happier now.

I think that's a fair request and also nice thing to built a routine together

He arched an eyebrow, looking cool as ever. “What if I want you for breakfast?” He brought his lips to yours, not giving you a chance to argue that you hadn't brushed your teeth. He didn't care about things like that. “You wouldn't let me starve, would you?”

I think we all know the answer to that 😌

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.” You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body. “Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️🤭

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

Nice coincidence 🤭

The gentle scrape of his teeth over your neck set your blood on fire. “If I’m insatiable, it’s your fault. One look at you and I was a goner,” he whispered, a hand moving possessively between your bodies. His thumb brushed your nipple into a taut peak, your back arching to seek out more of him. “You brought beauty and joy back to my world. You saved me, you know that?” Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

🥰🥰🥰

You gasped when he nipped at your racing pulse. “Don’t do that. Don't compliment me. This isn’t about me.” Both of you had a tendency to deflect praise at times, but it was something you were working on. And while he didn’t view himself as a hero, he did save you in his own way.

That's cute that they both do it 🥺🥰

“Don’t get cocky,” you groaned, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against you. Thick. Hard. You shuddered with the need for him to just take you. “Actually, you have every right to be cocky. You’ve ruined me.” He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought.

Heavy on the yet 🤭

He watched your blissful expression with dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “That’s what I dreamt about.” His rumbling words had your thighs trembling. “You underneath me, taking every inch of my cock, begging to come.”

Yeah I dream the same thing, weird 🤭😅

Butterflies filled your stomach. It wasn’t a proposal, but it still felt like he was asking in a way. “Do you mean in this bed? As long as we can have our meals here and do movie nights. Oh, and a way to clean the sheets because they’ll be filthy.” His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

A perfect life 🥰

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.” The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed.

🥰🥰🥰

You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

Beside a rude interruption I have a bad feeling about this 👀

Diamonds and Steel - Intro

Pairing: Retired Hitman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky treats you to a getaway, but peace won't last for long.

Word Count: Over 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, established relationship, dirty talk, talk of violence and nightmares, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: So, I wrote this intro months ago. I feel like this Bucky would get along with our alpha. Thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in from the balcony door woke you slowly. You weren't sure what time it was as you squinted against the brightness with a small stretch, the spacious bedroom becoming brighter with each passing second. You had only been in the villa for a day, but it was your new favorite place. Thanks in large part to the person who brought you here.

But I can because he’s my man.

Bucky Barnes, a man who was intimidating even laying down. Tall with wide shoulders, built like a warrior with a few scars to prove it. You moved a finger through his nearly trimmed beard and almost wished he'd open his steely eyes so you could gaze into them. He unnerved many with his stare, but he always looked at you as if you were the reason he saw the light of day. Burying your face in his neck with a sigh, it gave you a sense of peace when he pulled you closer to him on instinct.

“Morning,” you whispered, shifting so your body could melt into his more.

He moaned appreciatively as your hips moved closer. “How did you sleep?” He tipped your chin up so he could look at you, the sleep fading quickly from his eyes. It didn't matter that he just woke up, he looked as handsome as ever and knocked the wind right out of you. It was highly doubtful you looked beautiful having just woken up, but he’d say looked perfect if you asked.

“I slept well,” you answered. You had good dreams, including one of the two of you sitting on soft white sand and watching the waves crash in the glittering ocean. You could go anywhere in the world you wanted now thanks to him. “Did you?”

Bucky warned you when you entered your relationship with him that he sometimes had trouble sleeping. Bouts of insomnia and occasional nightmares. You witnessed one first-hand near the beginning when he woke up in a cold sweat, his hand clenched like he was holding a weapon and empty eyes like he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He didn't like to talk about his past and could only tell you later on that all he saw were bullets and blood.

His haunted gaze broke your heart.

Need slammed into you at the implication, your palms itching to feel his hardened body as he held you closer. You wanted to trace the scars, the tattoos. Every inch of him. “Sure you don't want breakfast first?”

The low heat from his voice seared through your core, wrapping around you like the satin sheet that covered you both. It was the only thing covering you in fact, your clothes strewn across the floor the night before. He had you keep the diamond pendant on, a gift he had given you when you arrived at the villa. It was beautiful.

The diamond to his steel.

“As if you’d ever starve. Your appetite for me is borderline gluttonous,” you teased. Guilt flickered in his eyes before you put a hand to his cheek, his expression shifting back to normal. “Hey, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I love that you want me.”

Oh, did Bucky want you. His face buried between your thighs, his cock spearing you open. If he didn't have you in bed, he had you against a wall or bent over the nearest surface. Not a day went by that he didn't give you at least one orgasm, like he was making up for lost time apart before you even knew each other. It didn't make sense to you some days that a man as gorgeous and worldly as him could have anyone he wanted, but chose you.

“And I love you wanting me,” he said. You didn't just want him. You ached for him, inside and out. How could one man hold such power over you? To be fair, the balance of power was equal in some ways since you affected him the same way.

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.”

You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body.

“Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

“That’s still crazy to me,” you remarked.

“That I wiped out your debt or that I’m your boyfriend?”

You twirled a bit of his hair around your finger. “Both,” you whispered. Living a debt free life was something you hadn't thought possible until he showed up. Now you had a life without the stress of bills and work, and also one where you felt loved and cared for. He gave you that and more. “But it’s crazy in the best possible way.”

“So it’s a good thing I'm crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Crazy about me?” You put a hand to his forehead. “Hmm. I think you should have your head examined.”

Bucky took your hand and brought it to his mouth, his expression blank. “No one needs to look inside my head,” he said, his eyes warm again as he kissed your palm. It seemed to push out whatever memory undoubtedly crept into his mind. “Because if someone could, they’d see all the dirty things I've done to you and no one else needs to see that.”

You giggled as he nudged your legs apart. “Yes, you’ve done a lot of dirty things to me,” you teased, your eyes slipping shut as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. Just two days ago he had you naked in his lap with your arms tied behind your back while he fed you dessert. And then he had you for dessert. “You’re insatiable.”

Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

“You’re a good man,” you said softly, fiercely. He didn't think he was because of some of the things he had done, because of the blood on his hands, but he wasn’t a bad person. “I mean it, Bucky.”

He sighed, scraping his beard against your skin affectionately. “I know you do.” He took his time sliding his hand down your torso, your breath leaving your lungs at the same slow speed. “But I want to compliment you, so take what I give you.”

You'd be sure to compliment him again later. “Not the only thing you’ll tell me to take, is it?” You giggled when he growled again. Getting under his skin was a lot of fun. “We both know I take you so well. Just like I take every drop you spill into me, no matter which hole you choose.”

He made a sound between a moan and a growl. You didn't think your dirty talk was the best by any means, but he loved it. “And you call me insatiable,” he said, his fingers exquisitely gentle as they found your wetness. “Always wet and ready for me, eager for me to fill all of your holes.”

He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought.

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, heat curling in your stomach as he slipped a calloused finger inside you. Your hands moved to his arms, his muscles rippling as he pumped it deep. Your sensitive walls clenched as he added another, a delicious tease of what was to come. How did your need for him continue to grow with each day that passed?

Bucky broke the kiss, your breathing heavy as he continued to toy with you. “After breakfast, I want your cunt pulsing on my tongue,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, a thrill shooting from your head to your toes. You’d be content to spend the rest of your life sitting on his face if you could get away with it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, pleasure mounting as his fingers curled. You tried to hold back the familiar cresting waves, wanting his cock inside you when you let it wash over you. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Just get your cock in me.”

Slowly removing his fingers, your hole clenching around nothing, he smirked as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The stark hunger in his gaze at the taste of you nearly made you orgasm. “Well, since you’re so desperate for me,” he teased, gripping the base of his cock and lining the head against your hole.

“I’m desperate?” Your voice cracked when he slid into you in one deep thrust. Your fingers dug into his biceps, adjusting to the size of him as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for any discomfort or pain. There was none there. Your body would always welcome him home.

“Yes. Desperate.” You couldn't deny that when Bucky moved his hips. Deep, long strokes, the drag of his cock making you feel almost mindless. No one before him made you desperate. No one else ever would. “Wet. Tight. Beautiful. Perfect.”

You gasped, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I’m not-” He cut you off with a kiss, silencing your protest that you weren't perfect. You were anything but. Like everyone, you had flaws. Imperfections. It was like he didn't see them or they didn't exist in his eyes.

“Yes, you fucking are,” he growled, making you cry out when he thrust hard. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he crushed your chests together, your heart matching the rhythm of his. You held onto him like you never wanted to let him go. “My perfect treasure.”

Heat engulfed you as he reached between you and slid his fingers along your clit. Your hips bucked, your arousal climbing and taking you higher. The handsome man above you canting his hips and groaning as you keened had your body begging for release.

“Bucky, please. I need to come,” you whined. You didn't need his permission, but you still begged for it.

A hand worked its way to his hair and gripped it, trying to ground yourself from the sensations rushing through you. The edges of your vision blurred as your body wound tighter, ready to give yourself over to the pleasure only he could provide. “Please, Bucky,” you said. At least you thought you said it. The waves were ready to sweep you away.

“Come for me.” His husky voice wasn't one to be denied. “Make my dream come true.”

Your head fell back, your walls fluttering around his cock as you went over the precipice. Blood roared in your ears, but you could still hear him moan your name as you spiraled out of control. His body followed your lead, pumping his hips a few more times before he came with a deep moan. Feeling him flood your insides and seeing ecstasy fill his gorgeous eyes made you grip him like a vice all over again.

Bucky pulled you close when he gently collapsed on the bed, staying inside you as long as he could. Your body fit against his like you were designed just for him and you couldn't help but smile as you caught your breath. He smiled, too. A gorgeous, carefree smile.

“Dream come true?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat when his smile widened and eyes crinkled.

“Even better,” he whispered, cupping your cheek and skimming his lips against yours in a soft kiss. “Can we just stay like this?

You rubbed your cheek against his hand as the hazy cloud lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

“I meant forever,” he half teased, his hand reaching for yours to trace your bare finger.

His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

You tilted your head, gazing at the man who turned your world upside down as the happiness slowly slipped from his face. Like how your body ached for his, your heart ached for him, too. “You do deserve this. You're not a bad man, Bucky.” He needed to hear it again. You'd tell him as many times as it took until it sank in.

His jaw twitched, his eyes holding a hint of regret. “I’ve killed people,” he reminded you in an even tone.

“I know,” you whispered. You accepted that it was part of his past and who he was. You accepted him. “That doesn’t make you unworthy of me.”

His eyes closed, his hold on you firmer. “It would almost be easier if you condemned me, but I’m a selfish man who wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.”

The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed. You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

“Who is it?” You sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as he got up and threw something on. You couldn’t even appreciate the view since his entire demeanor changed. “And should I go with you?”

His jaw twitched again. “Delivery guy dropped something off and left. Hang back a little,” he answered before he grabbed you a robe. He’d preferred you close as opposed to being in the bedroom alone. “I don’t want anyone seeing you if they’re still nearby.”

“Lots of people see me,” you tried to joke. You stopped smiling when he swung his head your way. He took your safety very seriously. “I’ll hang back.”

Taking your hand, he headed to the front of the villa. Your legs shook a bit, but you blamed that on the orgasm he gave you and not fear. He stopped you before you could reach the door, giving you a quick, hard kiss. It left you breathless when he pulled away. “Stay right here,” he whispered, your heart pounding as he grabbed one of his many hidden guns.

Weapons everywhere, a habit he’d never break.

You couldn’t see his expression when he went out to retrieve whatever was dropped off, but you understood his paranoia since he lived a dangerous life before. Not a lot of people knew where you were going on this vacation and he clearly wasn't expecting a delivery. “What is it?” you asked once he put the gun away and went back to you. A smile touched your lips when you saw the arrangement of various red flowers. “Those are beautiful.”

“They’re addressed to you.” He plucked the card from the holder to show you, his mouth set in a grim line. “But I didn’t order these.”

Dread filled you as you took the card from him and turned it over. Your name was the only thing written on it, minus a small stamp in the corner you hadn’t seen before: a heart and dagger. “Well, if you didn’t get me these, who did?”

“Someone from my past,” he said so quietly he almost missed it.

Your eyes widened. “Why would someone from your past send me flowers?” As far as you knew he didn't keep in touch with most of his old associates. “And how do they know we’re here?”

You stopped breathing when you saw his eyes. Cold. Deadly. “That’s what I'm going to find out.”

So much for staying in bed today.

OOH. What do we think so far? I wonder who from Bucky's past is going to pop up and why. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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