#I haven't kept up with the tag for the last little while because I was Unwell (no screens) and since then I've been procastinating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1880 - labyrinth of my heart

chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.

word count: 9.3k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death

series masterlist - chapter 1 → chapter 3

Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, ‘you shouldn’t have fallen in love,’ and ‘the only people we can trust is each other’.

The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.

He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.

Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.

It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way you’d brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring he’d never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.

He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where you’d once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since then—just going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didn’t matter.

As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasn’t the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.

It was you.

Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years ago—maybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.

Logan’s feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?

But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadn’t seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the children—it was all you.

“Excuse me, miss,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.

You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in time—like the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.

“Yes, can I help you?” you asked, your voice soft, kind.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that now—somehow—you were standing in front of him again?

“I... I thought I knew you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didn’t trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.

You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” you said. “I’m Y/N. I’m the schoolteacher here.”

Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldn’t remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life you’d lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you weren’t his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m Logan,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.

You nodded, offering another warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?”

Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.”

You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. “I get that sometimes. Chicago’s a big city, but it can feel small.”

Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracle—a second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?

Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe I’ll see you around?”

Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldn’t say.

For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didn’t remember him, even if you didn’t know who he was... he couldn’t walk away. Not this time.

---

Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him back—fear that you’d think he was insane, or worse, that you’d reject him outright.

He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didn’t know what to do with it.

It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these years—after so much pain—hope could sneak its way back in. This wasn’t just a coincidence. It couldn’t be. Logan wasn’t the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?

As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.

Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. You’ve been through worse.

But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.

“Y/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?” Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.

You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. “Can’t tonight, but I’ll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.”

Ida chuckled. “You’ll turn into an old maid before you’re thirty at this rate.”

You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chest—like an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadn’t heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.

As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say something—anything.

Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.

This is it. Now or never.

Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.

You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. “Logan, wasn’t it?”

His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. “Yeah. Logan.”

You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. “What brings you by?”

He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “I... I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. “About what?”

Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.

“I... You remind me of someone,” he admitted, voice low. “Someone I lost a long time ago.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That must’ve been hard.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It was.”

There was a beat of silence between you—heavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldn’t say. You didn’t know him, didn’t know what you’d meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.

“You... wanna walk for a bit?” Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression must’ve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. “Alright.”

The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.

“So, how long have you been in Chicago?” you asked, glancing over at him.

Logan shrugged. “Not long. Just passing through.”

You gave a small smile. “It’s a good place to get lost in for a while.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Guess so.”

The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after that—small talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that you’d moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.

“I’ve always liked working with kids,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something... hopeful about it, you know?”

Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in him—a flicker of warmth he thought he’d lost forever.

As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.

“Thank you for the walk,” you said, your smile gentle. “It was nice.”

Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. “Yeah. It was.”

For a moment, it felt like time stood still—like the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didn’t remember him, didn’t know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldn’t let you slip away again.

“Y/N...” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You tilted your head, waiting.

He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “Can I see you again?”

Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. “I’d like that.”

Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Good,” he murmured.

And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, he’d found his way back to you.

---

You had taken up Ida’s offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasn’t like it was out of the way for you.

“Oh, hey! Thought you weren’t gonna come by.”

You shrugged, taking off your shawl, “changed my mind.” You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed him. He’s been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.”

"Wait, what do you mean, ‘he’s been watching the schoolyard for weeks?’” you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.

Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. “Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. He hasn’t been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, that’s all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, don’t you think?”

You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. “A guy like what?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” she teased, sitting down across from you. “Tall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. You’re telling me you didn’t notice? He’s practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk you’d just had with Logan. You hadn’t seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldn’t quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing something—or someone—else.

“I didn’t know he was hanging around,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands. “But... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.”

Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. “Sad, huh? You picked up on that, too?”

You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Logan’s presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

“You think he’s okay?” you asked quietly.

Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. “Who knows? The world’s a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe he’s looking for something.”

“Looking for what?”

“Maybe someone to share the load,” she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe that someone’s you.”

You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. “I don’t even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.”

“Hey, stranger things have happened,” Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. “You felt something, right? That’s not nothing.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.”

Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. “Lost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? What’s he hoping to find?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chest—a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite name.

Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. “Well, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.”

You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Ask him why he’s hanging around the schoolyard?”

Ida laughed softly. “Maybe not that bluntly, but yeah. There’s something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.”

You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybe—just maybe—you could help.

---

The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasn’t there—at least, not that you could see.

The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk you’d shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldn’t shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.

When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hoping—half-expecting—that he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

“Looking for someone?”

You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadn’t even heard him.

“Logan,” you said, surprised but not unwelcome. “I didn’t see you.”

He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. “It’s alright. Just didn’t expect to see you today.”

Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I wanted to see if you’d like to take another walk. If you’re not too tired, that is.”

You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voice—something vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.

“I’d like that,” you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.

The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Why’ve you been hanging around the school?” you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Ida said she noticed you there for a while.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, and he didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I wasn’t trying to... I don’t know. I guess I was just... drawn there.”

“Drawn there?” you echoed, glancing up at him.

He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “Yeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.”

You didn’t press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. “If I am, just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, you’re not making me uncomfortable.”

Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small things—the city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.

When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, offering him a small smile.

Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

As you turned to head inside, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyes—the one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.

And in that moment, you realized... you didn’t want to be just a stranger to him either.

---

After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, you’d stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before you’d head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was different—the air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not going out in that cold again,” you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. “Ten minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.”

Logan didn’t protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I won’t keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.

Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.

“You don’t gotta fuss,” he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. “I’m alright.”

“Humor me,” you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. “Besides, I’ve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure you’re not freezing to death.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasn’t sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. “We’ve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.”

Logan’s gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. “Not much to tell,” he said after a beat. “Just a guy who’s been around a while.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “That’s it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?”

He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. “Had family once. Friends, too. Lost most of ‘em.”

There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didn’t push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “That must’ve been hard.”

Logan took the cup but didn’t drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. “Life’s hard for everyone,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.

“Why’d you let me walk with you?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know me,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Most people wouldn’t... They’d be scared, or they’d push me away. But you... you let me stay.”

You frowned, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know... I guess I just felt like... I should.” You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. “Besides, you’re not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.”

A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not afraid of much, are you?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not really. I mean, what’s the point of being afraid? Life’s hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.”

Logan’s smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess you’re right.”

The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.

Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. “I should go,” he said, though he didn’t make a move toward the door.

You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. “Logan...”

He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah?”

You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you said softly.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didn’t need to explain.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning to leave.

You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between you—something unspoken, something old—and you weren’t ready to let it go.

Not yet.

---

It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You weren’t sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.

Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.

You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.

You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? It’s market day. There's a lot to see, and it’d be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"

"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didn’t.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "I’ll come with you."

You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. It’ll be fun. I promise."

---

The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.

"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.

"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"

Logan grunted in response, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasn’t used to this—being around so many people—but he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.

After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.

"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.

"Logan, you don’t have to—"

"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."

You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."

He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.

You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldn’t fully let his guard down.

"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.

Logan’s mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."

You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much he’d seen, how much he’d lived through.

"I’m glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like I’ve been stuck in a routine for a while now. It’s nice to just... do something different."

Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "I’m glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.

There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it too—the strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.

After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I ain’t good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."

You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "You’re doing fine," you said gently.

Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "It’s not that simple."

You felt a pang of something—sympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You don’t have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."

Logan’s eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—like maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.

---

As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. “You ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?”

Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. “The exhibition?”

You nodded, turning toward him. “There’s a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard they’ve got this new thing—electric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and… maybe you’d like to come with me?”

For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasn’t something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.

“You want me to go with you?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” you said, smiling. “We’ve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, I’m curious about those lights. They say it’s going to change the way people live.”

Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. “Alright. I’ll go.”

Your smile widened. “Great! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.”

The conversation drifted back into easier topics—your students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, you’d understand him better.

---

Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.

“Ever seen anything like this?” you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.

Logan’s eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not in a while.”

Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.

You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.

"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an ‘automatic loom.’ You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"

Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."

You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a painting—a soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.

"It's beautiful, isn’t it?" you said, glancing at him.

Logan’s gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasn’t talking about the art.

You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something there—something that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.

"You sure this ain’t boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know you’re not one for crowds."

Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "It’s fine. Long as you’re enjoying yourself."

You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."

For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separate—like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "They’re saying these will replace gas lamps soon."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesn’t seem right, replacing something that’s worked for so long."

"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."

Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess I’ve never been good with change."

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just haven’t found the right reason to embrace it yet."

For a moment, Logan didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."

As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the city’s evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.

You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadn’t faded. It felt like something had shifted—like you’d both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.

"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "There’s a place not far from here. They make the best stew."

Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didn’t need to.

As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.

"This place isn’t so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.

You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."

Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like this—quiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasn’t about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.

---

One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.

You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.

Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. He’d heard that cough before—26 years ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. “Just a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said it’s just a cold.”

Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last days—bedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.

"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.

"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, I’m fine."

Logan’s jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you were—alive, vibrant. This time, he couldn’t lose you again. He wouldn't.

"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "I’m fine, really. It’s just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea won’t fix."

Logan didn’t argue, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasn’t 1854. But the memory haunted him.

You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "What’s really going on?"

Logan’s breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that you’d been here before—that he’d watched you die, that he’d loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.

"Just... don’t push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’ve seen people get worse when they don’t take care of themselves."

You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, I’ll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, you’ll make sure I do, right?"

Logan’s lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."

The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Logan’s past pressing down on him, though you couldn’t see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life you’d shared.

---

You didn’t see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.

You couldn’t help but worry a tad bit, it wasn’t like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.

“He hasn’t been by at all?” Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “That man never misses a day. He’s usually lurking outside, waitin’ to walk you home.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s been three days now.”

Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “You don’t think somethin’s happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. “No, I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. He’s... not the type to explain himself much.”

Ida hummed, though she didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But if he doesn’t show up soon, you ought to go find him. He’s a good man, Y/N, and you’ve only known him a month, but it’s clear he cares about you.”

The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didn’t quite understand the pull between you, it was there—undeniable. And the fact that he hadn’t shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.

Later that evening, after you’d left Ida’s apartment and returned to your own, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.

Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.

Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expecting—half hoping—it would be Logan.

And there he was.

He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught you—the familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.

“Logan,” you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. “Where have you been? I was starting to get worried.”

Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didn’t say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.

“I needed time,” he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.

“Time for what?” you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasn’t easy for him.

Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldn’t meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his face—like he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasn’t used to saying them.

You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. “Scared of what?”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. “Of losing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan… we’ve only known each other for a month,” you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like you’d known him much longer—like this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.

“I know,” Logan said, his voice rough. “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m right here.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldn’t—that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasn’t telling you.

“Logan…” you started, your voice soft. “What aren’t you telling me?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls he’d let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.

“I’ve lived a long time,” he said finally, his voice low. “I’ve lost people before. People I cared about. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there too—something unspoken. “Logan… who did you lose?”

His eyes flickered with pain, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasn’t someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.

“I’m here,” you whispered against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.

---

You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.

“Supposed to come down hard tomorrow,” Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. “Glad we got everything done now. Don’t wanna be caught in that mess.”

You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. “It’ll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Logan’s been after me about taking it easy anyway.”

Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. “That man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.”

You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “I know he cares. He’s just… different. Keeps to himself.”

“He’s different, alright,” Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. “But he’s not the type to care about someone without good reason. Don’t let that one get away.”

You didn’t respond, but your thoughts drifted to Logan—how he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didn’t fully understand it, but you felt it—something deeper than words or time.

The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.

“Whoa!” the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.

You clutched Ida’s arm, your heart racing. “What’s going on?”

The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. “The damn harness snapped! The horse—”

Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.

“Hold on!” he yelled.

The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Ida’s scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.

And then—nothing.

The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.

---

Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw it—just beyond the next block, down by the road.

The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.

A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.

Logan’s heart stopped. He knew—he just knew.

His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.

By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.

“Someone’s inside!” the man stammered. “Two women—”

Logan didn’t wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.

“Y/N!” His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.

You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.

“Logan…?” you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.

“I got you,” Logan said, his voice breaking. “I’m here. You’re gonna be fine.” But even as he said it, dread gnawed at him—this wasn’t fine. It was happening again.

Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Logan’s focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.

“No, no, no…” Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.

You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. “I told you… I’d rest…”

“Don’t,” Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. “Don’t do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.”

You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. “I… tried…”

Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anything—but it couldn’t save you. Not now. Not again.

He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. “I can’t lose you again, darlin’. Not like this…”

Your breath hitched once, then stopped.

“No,” Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. “No, no, no…”

His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didn’t care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.

And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldn’t let go.

in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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bunny-jpeg · 5 days ago

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nurse lance

lance stroll

tags: smut & fluff, sick/sweet fic, gentle sex, established relationship, sick!reader, cowgirl position

a/n: i went to visit hare this weekend and came back with a fever & cold. and right before the holidays too!!!

lance was a sucker for when you were sick. he wasn't unfamiliar with a cold and knew his way around a can of chicken noodle soup. he seemed to up the affection when he knew you were under the weather.

you had a habit of playing it off when you felt under the weather, you believed that your partner had more than enough things to worry about. he didn't need you having the sniffles on top of it. but by god does he always find out quickly.

"well, there's three things you always do when you're sick." he said as he pulled up the covers to your chin, he pushed the blankets under your sides effectively putting you into a black burrito, "one, you get very quiet because your head hurts. two, you limp a little because your joints hurt. and three, your eyes looks heavy and tired because your entire being is fighting off infection." he took you by the cheeks and kissed you on the forehead.

"i'm fine, lance. it's just the weather changing." you could barely keep your eyes open as you laid under the covers he tucked you into. you opened your eyes a little more to see his hands on your cheeks once more.

"right, right... and you'll be as good as new tomorrow, eh? you need rest." he said, "and i don't want to see you up until i get you some tea." he pulled away and wagged a finger at you.

you felt the heat in your face from the sickness and you nodded, "of course, honey.." you felt the heaviness in your eyes once more and by the time lance was out of the bedroom you had gotten more comfortable in bed and eventually fell asleep. you hated when he was right, even though you loved him deeply. lance kept close to you, he even brought his laptop to the bedroom to check emails and keep himself busy while you rested.

it was only right of him, you cheered him on. not only him but the whole team! you gave him all your love, so if you were feeling under the weather then he'd simply take care of his love. his everything.

however, when you started to feel better. you returned the favour for your lover. nurse lance deserved a raise after everything he had done for you. once the coughing settled and the aches were gone. when you felt a bit more alive and after dinner, you took lance by the hand. left the dishes in the sink before you brought him up to the bedroom you shared.

"we don't have-"

"i'm alright." you said, "much better now, you've been looking after me for days now." you unzipped your hooded sweatshirt and took it off you. you liked how lance looked at you when he was getting turned on by you.

"you promise?" he asked, "you owe me nothing."

you reached out for him and took his shirt by the shoulders, "i mean, i benefit from it too. haven't been able to get pleasure while i was sick. a change of pace from the aches and pains." and giggled when lance pulled the sweatpants off you.

your clothes were soon all over the floor by the bed as the two of you got into bed together. he ran his hands across your sides as you straddled his waist. you placed your hands on his shoulders and admired him. those dark eyes that pulled you in, how he smiled at you. the way the tips of his ears got hot when he was intimate with you. the rush of want made im perfectly pink.

"last chance." he said, he wanted total confidence that you were doing this of your own free will. no questions asked.

you took him by the face and gazed into his eyes, "i want you lance, i want you so fucking badly. is that what you want to hear?" then pressed a kiss against his soft lips. he shuddered and let out a small laugh after you broke the kiss. you looked down at him and laughed in return, "happy?"

"with you? always, babe." then winked at you before he helped you get seated on his cock. the stretch was a bit much at first, but soon you were fully taking him.

your hands on his shoulders as you started to move against him. move at a steady, slow pace. nothing too brutal, only gentleness between you two. you admired him. you loved him. deeply.

you were feeling better, the cough was mostly gone and you didn't have the dull throb in your head. it felt nice to be intimate with him once more. you held onto him tightly as you moved your hips. the pleasure sank down to your core and left you needy for him. you were always needy for him. there was something about him that pulled you in.

he was unlike any other man you ever met. not because he was a racer, he was different from them too. the way he smiled at you, how he seemed to remember all the important dates. that he modified how he worked so he could keep a close eye on you.

"i love you." you said softly, "you are fuckin' amazing, lance." you cupped his face for a moment as you picked up the pace. but lance held onto your hips to slow you down.

you looked at him curiously and he said, "let's take our time. i know you're better, but i don't want you to push yourself so hard until you're totally fine again." then gave you a smile that melted your heart.

you said softly, "fuck, lance. you're so cheesy."

he replied, "only with you." then pulled one of your hands to his face where he could kiss right where your wrist ended and your hand began. he met your pace slowly and kissed across your wrist and hand with a sort of devotion that made your stomach flutter.

the two of you continued to make love, the feeling was electric as the two of you moved against one another. the pace remained gentle, his love for you flowed through your body as you moved against him slowly. you loved the feeling, it left you feeling hot all over as pleasure bloomed in your core. there was something about him that just left you needy.

you could remember almost every time he used those skilled fingers and tongue to use, the videos of himself masturbating he would send. even the sweet text messages, you were wrapped up in his world and you loved it.

"fuck, lance." you said.

"you feel amazing, i'm glad you're feeling better." he said, "i want you not sick, not if i can prevent it. even though you do look rather cute with a runny nose." then gave your hand another kiss before he placed his hands back on your hips. he helped maintain the pace as he gazed up at you. fuck, you were beautiful.

"no need to lay it on so thick, lance." you laughed between heavy, lustful pants, "i know you're obsessed with me."

"how could i not be? not when you're so funny, and cute, and sweet. of course i'll love and take care of you. that's what a good boyfriend does." he remarked as he felt the flutter of lust through him as he moved against you.

you two continued to move, love was said in words and felt in the want between you two. it was hot, erotic in a way that made your toes curl as you continued to ride him. pleasure thumped in your chest as you rode him.

"you're such a sweet talker." you said as you went in for another heated kiss. the pleasure near hit its peak as you rode him. the heat curled in your core as you held onto him a little tighter, "fuck, i need to cum."

he said out of breath, "then cum for me." and groaned when you clenched around him as you climaxed. the pleasure swarmed your brain as you felt your entire body grow tense for a moment. he groaned, "fuck." it felt good, really good.

it was only hotter when you continued to move against him, eager for his own climax. he groaned louder and felt his orgasm wash over him. he cursed under his breath and you continued to ride him through his climax. your legs felt like jelly, but you loved the feeling.

"lance."

"i got you." he said as the two of you slowed down to a stop. you coughed a little from the physical activity. you still weren't a hundred percent. the two of you laid out next to each other on the bed, and lance got the blankets over both of you. he held you face and kissed you some more. you coughed a little bit and he kissed your nose, "alright, let's get comfy. you're obviously still sick."

and you were inclined to agree

a few days later, lance woke up to a sore throat and a little too much crust in his eyes, when he opened his eyes slowly the light that streamed through the window felt oppressive.

he rolled over and up against your shoulder. his hands felt cold as he cuddled with you. the iciness of his palms woke you up and you yawned loudly and looked at him.

he looked up at you, his normally big brown eyes eyes partially closed and full of sleep. then he started to cough and you pressed your lips against his forehead. he groaned a little.

you pulled away and looked at him, "i guess it's time for me to take care of you." and then your eyes went wide when he wrapped himself up against you.

"will you, please?" he asked quietly.

you chuckled and snuggled up next to him, "of course." if you two were going to share the same cold over the course of the off season then so be it. because he'll always take care of you, and you'll take care of him <3

#bunny writes #reader insert #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula one #lance stroll x you #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll smut #lance stroll x y/n #aston martin f1 #ls18 smut #ls18 x reader #ls18

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rootedinrevisions · 3 months ago

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Cowboys & Angles (Kinktober 2024: Day 3)

SUMMARY: After years of playful flirting and a deep-rooted friendship, you and Tyler Owens find yourselves crossing the line between friends and lovers when he returns home for the fall. What starts as a fun, teasing night at the local bar quickly turns into something more when Tyler finally takes his shot. But as feelings are laid bare, both of you must confront what this means for your relationship—because for Tyler, you've always been more than just a friend, and he’s ready to prove it if you let him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I first decided to do Kinktober, I was planning on doing a bunch of drabbles (my goal is for them to be at or under 1k words). But kind of like with yesterday's, as I was writing this one it kind of just took off and I kept going and now here we are at over 5k words! So I think Kinktober is probably going to be a mix of both shorter drabbles and longer fics! I will also be mixing up characters/fandoms so Kinktober will have a mix of my Glen Powell characters as well as some WWE/Wrestling, and I may be introducing a few new characters I haven't written for yet too!

PROMPT: "I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me."

KINK: Cowboy Hat / Cowboy Hat Rule

WARNINGS: Teasing. 18+ SMUT. (P in V Sex.)

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

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The bar was quieter than usual for a Saturday night. The usual hum of conversation was replaced by a few scattered groups of locals enjoying their drinks in the dim, amber glow of the overhead lights. You leaned on the counter, wiping down a glass as the front door swung open with a faint creak. The familiar sound made your heart jump before you even saw who it was.

Tyler Owens.

He strode in with that easy confidence, his tall frame filling the doorway for a second before he glanced around the room, spotting you instantly. A slow grin spread across his face, and he tipped his cream-colored Stetson in your direction before making his way toward the bar. You hadn’t seen him in months, not since he’d been off chasing storms across the country, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Well, if it isn’t Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler himself,” you teased as he reached the bar.

“Back in town for a little while. Thought I’d drop by and see what kind of trouble you’ve been getting into.” His voice was smooth, that southern drawl rolling off his tongue like honey, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Amber, the other bartender, had been subtly hinting that she could use the extra tips if you wanted to take the rest of the night off for the last half hour. The bar wasn’t too busy, so you figured now was as good a time as any to give her the extra tips and catch up with Tyler. Setting the glass down, you unhooked your apron.

“Amber, you’re up. I’m clocking out,” you called over your shoulder. She practically beamed at you in response, already moving to take over.

Sliding onto the stool next to Tyler, you felt a familiar warmth wash over you—not from the two drinks you had in front of you, but from the easy energy that always existed between the two of you. You’d known Tyler since high school, and while your friendship had always teetered on the edge of something more, nothing had ever come of it. Flirting was just part of your dynamic.

“So, you’re back home, huh? Storm season finally winding down?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, things are quietin’ down. I thought I’d stick around town for a bit. Y appreciate the peace and quiet without me stirring things up?” He teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Oh, sure. It’s been so peaceful without you around,” you replied with a playful eye roll, though the truth was you’d missed him more than you wanted to admit.

After another round of drinks, your inhibitions softened but far from impaired, you reached out and plucked the Stetson right off Tyler’s head. The hat had always been his signature look, and you couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him a little. You placed it on your own head, adjusting it with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know there’s a rule about wearin’ a cowboy’s hat, don’t you?” His voice was low, but there was something underlying it now, a challenge.

You feigned innocence, leaning in slightly. “Oh? And what rule might that be?”

His eyes darkened ever so slightly, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before he leaned back in his chair, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“Never mind,” he said, his voice huskier now, “you wouldn’t be interested.”

But you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear. “Oh, I know the rule, Tyler. I just wanted to see what you’d do about it.”

There it was—the shift. His expression hardened ever so slightly, but that teasing smirk was still there, hanging on the edge of something more. He didn’t say anything, just gave you that look, the one that always sent a spark straight through you.

Without breaking eye contact, you stood and made your way toward the corner of the bar where the old mechanical bull sat. It hadn’t been used much recently, but it was still in working order. Tyler’s eyes followed you, curiosity piqued. You glanced over your shoulder, the Stetson still perched on your head as you grinned mischievously.

“Start her up,” you called to one of the other employees, hopping onto the mechanical bull. You adjusted your seat, settling in comfortably as the machine started to hum to life.

Tyler's gaze was locked on you now, his arms folded across his chest, leaning back in his chair as if to say, Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.

The bull started slow, rocking gently, but you handled it like a pro. With each buck, your eyes stayed locked on Tyler’s, never wavering. You could see the way his jaw tightened slightly, how his hands gripped the beer bottle in his hands every so tightly as the intensity of the ride increased. His hat sat firmly on your head, and you couldn’t help but grin as you imagined the thoughts running through his mind.

Finally, the bull jerked sharply, and you were thrown off, landing on your feet in a flurry of laughter and adrenaline. Without missing a beat, you sauntered back over to where Tyler sat, your steps light and confident.

“So,” you teased, pulling his hat off your head and spinning it around on your finger, “what was that rule again?”

Tyler’s eyes were darker now, his gaze intense as he reached out, plucking the hat from your hand and setting it back on his own head. He stood up slowly, towering over you, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, lips close to your ear.

“I’m already dyin’ to take you right now,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t tempt me.”

Your heart raced at his words, your playful bravado wavering for a split second as the tension between you thickened. But you couldn’t help yourself—you were never one to back down from a challenge. You met his gaze head-on, your lips curving into a daring smile.

“Well,” you whispered back, voice full of teasing confidence, “maybe I’m countin’ on that.”

The playful tension hung thick in the air, the space between you and Tyler charged with unspoken desire. His hat back on his head, Tyler’s eyes lingered on yours, darker than before, filled with something new—something inevitable. He stepped closer, and before you could say anything, his hand gently cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, the kiss firm yet unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than either of you cared to admit. Your body responded instinctively, leaning into him, one hand gripping the edge of his flannel shirt as the heat of the kiss spread through you. The years of playful back-and-forth, of near-misses and flirtatious glances, melted away into this one moment of pure, electric connection.

Around you, the few regulars left in the bar had noticed. A couple of whistles and cheers rang out, a playful acknowledgment of what everyone in your small town had suspected for years. But their noise faded into the background as you ignored them completely, lost in the feel of Tyler’s lips on yours.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb still gently stroking your cheek. “You good?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper, eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You nodded, breathless but smiling. ��More than good.”

He gave you that signature grin, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the door. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, the warmth of the bar replaced by the crisp breeze of the fall evening. Tyler didn’t let go of your hand as he led you to his truck, parked just out front, the red Dodge pickup outfitted in storm-chasing gear that you’d ridden in countless times before. But this time felt different.

Tyler opened the passenger door, turning to you with an extended hand to help you up. His touch was gentle, but there was a quiet intensity in the way he guided you into the seat. Once you were settled, he made his way around the front of the truck, climbing into the driver’s side and turning the engine over with a low rumble.

As he shifted the truck into gear, he glanced over at you, his lips curving into a smirk. “So, where to? Your place, or mine?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yours.”

The smirk deepened into a grin. “Good choice.”

With that, he pulled out onto Main Street, the quiet stretch of road that ran through the heart of your small town. The familiar sights blurred past as the truck rumbled westward, toward the outskirts where Tyler’s place sat nestled among the trees. You leaned back in the seat, the thrill of the night coursing through you, heart racing as anticipation built with every passing mile.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it only made the air more electric. Tyler’s hand rested on the gearshift, his knuckles brushing yours every so often, the simple contact sending a rush of warmth through you. You glanced over at him, taking in the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his focus stayed steady on the road, but there was an undeniable tension in his posture, like he was holding himself back.

The drive out to Tyler’s place was familiar but felt brand new in the charged atmosphere. Every turn in the road, every familiar landmark, passed by in a blur until finally, the gravel road leading up to his house came into view. The soft crunch of tires on gravel filled the quiet as he slowed the truck, pulling up beside the small, rustic house you’d been to more times than you could count.

But tonight, everything felt different. Tonight, it felt like everything had been leading to this moment.

Tyler parked the truck and turned off the engine, the silence of the night settling in around you as he turned to face you. That smirk was back, but now, there was a fire behind it, his gaze locked on yours as if daring you to make the next move.

Without a word, he opened his door and came around to your side, opening it for you and offering his hand once again. You took it, heart pounding as you stepped down from the truck, feeling the solid ground beneath your feet but still floating on the rush of what was about to happen.

As the door closed behind you, Tyler tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close. His lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, like he was savoring the moment. You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard in the stillness of the night. His voice was rough, barely more than a whisper, as he asked, “You ready?”

You nodded, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his flannel, your voice soft but steady. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Tyler’s lips brushed against yours one last time before he pulled back, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. You barely had a moment to wonder what he was up to before his hands slid down to your waist, fingers gripping with a possessive but playful strength.

With a quick, effortless motion, he hoisted you up and over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. A squeal of surprise escaped your lips as you suddenly found yourself looking at the world upside down, your hands instinctively grabbing onto the back of his flannel to steady yourself.

“Tyler!” you protested, half-laughing, half-scolding as you kicked your feet, trying to wriggle free. “You’re going to fall if you keep carrying me like this!”

His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he tightened his hold on you. “You think I can’t handle it?” he teased, his voice laced with humor as he started up the stairs toward his bedroom, his stride steady and sure. “I’ve carried heavier stuff than you during storm season, sweetheart. You’re light work.”

You squirmed again, the sensation of being tossed over his shoulder making you feel both thrilled and embarrassed, but the grin on your face was impossible to hide. “You’re gonna regret it if you drop me!” you warned, trying to sound serious but failing miserably as laughter bubbled up from your chest.

“I’m not dropping you,” he assured, his tone dripping with confidence. “But keep squirming, and I might just have to remind you who’s in charge here.” Tyler just laughed, one arm hooked securely around your legs while his free hand swatted playfully at your ass.

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, please, Tyler. You think you’re so—”

Before you could finish the sentence, he gave your ass another playful smack, the sound echoing off the walls as he continued up the stairs. This one was a little harder than the first.

“That’s for doubting me,” he quipped, his voice teasingly low, the heat between the two of you rising again despite the lighthearted moment.

You huffed, still trying to act indignant despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. “Alright, alright! Just get me upstairs in one piece, cowboy.”

He chuckled again, finally reaching the top of the stairs and carrying you effortlessly down the hallway toward his bedroom. The door creaked as he pushed it open with his foot, the room bathed in the soft, dim light of a single lamp in the corner.

Tyler walked straight to the bed, carefully lowering you down onto the mattress as if he were laying down something precious. Your heart was still racing, your skin flushed from the thrill of it all. You looked up at him, catching your breath as he stood there, grinning like the devil himself.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the playful glint never left his eyes.

You smiled back, your heart still pounding, but now for a different reason entirely. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter, more breathless. “I’m okay.”

Tyler leaned down, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering against your skin for just a moment before he gave you a wink. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The playful spark in Tyler’s eyes softened as he leaned over you, his hands resting gently on either side of your body, caging you in without making you feel trapped. His gaze locked onto yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was anticipation.

Slowly, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that started soft but deepened with every passing second, the heat between you building once again.

His hands, large and warm, began a slow exploration. He started at your hips, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist before moving up to your sides, sending a shiver through your body. His hands stopped when they reached the bottom of your shirt.

He pulled away from the kiss for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering there. You knew what he was asking without him needing to say it. You nodded, giving him your permission with a soft smile.

Tyler’s lips twitched up in a small, relieved grin as his fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, tugging it up gently. You lifted your arms to help him, your heartbeat racing as the fabric slid off and hit the floor. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat coming from Tyler’s body as he leaned back down, his hands now roaming over your bare skin, igniting every nerve he touched.

Your hands moved up to his chest, and with trembling fingers, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt. As you worked your way down, Tyler’s mouth found the delicate skin of your neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your throat. His lips were warm and gentle, but when he bit down lightly, your breath hitched, a small, involuntary sound escaping your lips.

That sound—small but full of need—seemed to drive Tyler wild. His grip on you tightened slightly, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and playful bites. Each time his teeth grazed your skin, you couldn’t stop the soft moans that spilled from your mouth, your body arching slightly into him.

His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, barely audible but enough to make him pause for just a second, his breath hot against your skin as he groaned softly.

“You keep making sounds like that, and I’m not gonna be able to control myself,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough with need.

His hands slid down your sides again, fingertips skimming the waistband of your jeans, but he paused, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he met your eyes again, waiting for your nod before his fingers deftly began undoing the button and zipper, tugging the denim down over your hips.

You took a deep breath, your fingers still fumbling with the last few buttons of his shirt, finally getting it open enough to slide it off his shoulders. The moment his shirt hit the floor, your hands were on him, running over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your palms. Tyler groaned again, his hands continuing their exploration, mapping every inch of your body as if it were the first time.

His mouth was on your neck again, trailing lower now, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone and further down. Every touch, every kiss, sent a wave of electricity through you, building a tension in your core that made it hard to think straight. The intimacy between you felt more intense now, the playful teasing giving way to something deeper, something that made your heart race and your breath come faster.

Tyler pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your hips again. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low, concern flickering in his eyes despite the heat between you.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat for a second before you managed to breathe out a soft, “Yeah... more than okay.”

His lips curved into that familiar grin, but there was something different in it now—something softer. He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

As his hands continued their journey over your skin, you could feel the shift between you, the playfulness melting away into something intimate, something more raw and real.

Tyler’s lips were on yours again, soft but hungry, as his hands roamed over your skin, pulling you closer, deepening the intensity between you. There was a new urgency in the way he touched you, the last of your clothes falling away, leaving nothing between you but heat and desire. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you noticed that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes, tempered by something softer, almost reverent, as he took in the sight of you.

“Your turn,” you whispered, your voice shaky but steady enough to tug at the waistband of his jeans.

Tyler grinned, the playfulness returning for just a moment as he sat back, undoing the button and zipper with quick, fluid motions. You watched as he kicked off his boots and jeans, your eyes following the movements of his hands as he finally tugged off his boxers, leaving him completely bare before you. You couldn’t help but admire the way he moved—every flex of muscle, every shift in his body.

You moved toward him, but Tyler caught you by the waist before you could get too far, flipping the two of you gently so that he was the one lying on the bed beneath you. His grin was still there, but it softened as his hands rested on your hips, pulling you down on top of him.

"Now that’s a view," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He traced slow, deliberate circles on your skin as you straddled him, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, your bare skin pressed against his.

For a moment, you just hovered there, the tension between you thick and electric. But then Tyler’s hand slid up your spine, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment.

“Before we go any further...” he murmured, his voice low but serious. His eyes met yours, searching. “We need to talk.”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. The chemistry between you was undeniable, but that didn’t mean you were going to be reckless.

"I’m clean," you said softly, feeling a little breathless as you admitted it. "I’ve been tested."

"Me too," Tyler replied, his voice steady but filled with the same tension that ran through your body. “But...” He gave you a sheepish grin as he reached out, fumbling in the drawer of his nightstand for a moment. His fingers finally closed around what he was looking for, and he pulled out a small foil packet, holding it up between the two of you with a little chuckle. “Just in case.”

You smiled at his awkward fumbling, appreciating the way he was handling this—respectful, but still maintaining that easy, familiar chemistry you had with him.

“Good thinking,” you teased, watching as he ripped the packet open, his movements still a little clumsy in his eagerness. He rolled the condom onto himself, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath was heavy, and you could feel the tension building again, stronger now that you’d both cleared the air.

You reached for his Stetson, which had somehow ended up on the bed, and with a grin, you placed it on your head, the brim casting a shadow over your eyes. Tyler’s gaze darkened as he watched you, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out.

Slowly, you positioned yourself over him, your legs straddling his hips. His hands came to rest on your thighs, his fingers squeezing lightly as you sank down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips at the sensation. The Stetson tilted slightly on your head, but you didn’t care. All that mattered at that moment was the connection between you and Tyler—the heat, the closeness, the way his hands gripped your hips like you were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

Tyler let out a groan, his grip tightening as you adjusted to him, your body leaning forward slightly, pressing your chest against his as you both took a moment to breathe. His hand slid up your back again, this time tracing your spine with slow, deliberate strokes that sent shivers through your body. He tilted his head up, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was slow as if he had all the time in the world to savor this moment.

"God, you look so damn good," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough, filled with that raw desire you’d only ever seen glimpses of before.

You smiled, breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Wearing your hat and nothing else?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mmhm.” Tyler’s hands slid back down to your hips, guiding you as you began to move slowly against him. “You have no idea what you do to me...”

Tyler’s breath hitched as you settled against him, your bodies moving in sync, slow and deliberate, as if the two of you were savoring every second. His hands never left your skin, sliding from your hips to your waist, then down your thighs, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you. Each movement sent a shiver up your spine, your body reacting to the way his fingers traced small circles, grounding you in the moment.

The slow rhythm between you grew more intense with every passing second, but Tyler kept his focus on you, his eyes locked on yours, the smirk on his face softened by the emotion behind it. He shifted slightly beneath you, a groan slipping from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hips, guiding you in your movements but still giving you control.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as the sensation built, but you didn’t rush. There was something almost sweet about the way you moved together, like you both understood that this wasn’t just about the physical connection. It was something deeper, something that had been simmering for years between flirty glances, teasing remarks, and late-night conversations.

Tyler leaned up, capturing your lips in another kiss—this one softer, more tender, as if he was trying to tell you something without words. His fingers threaded through your hair, gently tugging, tilting your head back just enough to expose your neck. He pressed his lips to your throat, kissing his way up the sensitive skin there, and you couldn’t help the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to every little touch.

You felt his grip on your hips tighten again, pulling you closer, your bodies moving together with more urgency now. The feeling between you was electric, your heart pounding in your chest as his kisses grew more desperate, more hungry. But even in the midst of it, Tyler’s touch remained careful, measured, as if he was constantly checking to make sure you were okay.

You didn’t mean for it to happen but your orgasm hit you faster than you expected. You felt your walls squeezing around him as your thighs started to shake. You let out several moans into Tylers mouth as he bucked his hips up to work you through it.

When you finally broke away from his mouth, breathless, Tyler leaned his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your lower back, holding you close. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you—just the sound of your breathing and the steady beat of your hearts.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with concern as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He exhaled, a relieved grin spreading across his face. “Good.” His hands slipped down to your waist again, his grip firm but gentle. “Because I’m not sure I can handle you looking like that in my hat and not lose my damn mind.”

You chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss him again, feeling the way his body responded to the smallest touch. The teasing from earlier was still there, but it was mingled with something else now—a deep sense of care and affection that had always been beneath the surface.

As the tension built between you again, Tyler’s movements became more urgent, more deliberate, and his grip on you tightened in response. His groans were low and quiet, but the sound of them sent a surge of heat through your body, making you move faster, more eagerly, craving every reaction you could pull from him.

Tyler’s hands roamed your back, sliding up your spine and then down again, before settling on your hips once more, guiding you, helping you keep the rhythm even when it became harder to focus as your second orgasm crept closer. His mouth found your neck again, biting down gently in a way that made you gasp, your body arching into him as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Every touch, every kiss felt electric, like the two of you had been waiting for this moment for years. And as the intensity reached its peak, you couldn’t help but feel the emotion behind it all—the unspoken bond you shared, the connection that had always been there, simmering just beneath the surface of your friendship.

Finally, as the tension broke and the two of you found your release together, Tyler pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you collapsed against him. His body was warm and solid beneath you, his heartbeat strong and steady as you both came down from the high of the moment. He held you there, his hands still tracing gentle patterns on your skin, like he was memorizing the feel of you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing as you lay in the quiet intimacy of the aftermath. Tyler shifted slightly, his hand sliding up to brush through your hair again, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice soft and filled with that familiar concern.

You nodded against him, your body still tingling from the intensity of what had just happened. “Yeah... more than okay,” you murmured, echoing your earlier words.

Tyler chuckled quietly, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you closer. “Good,” he said, his voice warm and filled with affection. “That’s all I ever want... to take care of you.” His fingers trailed along your back in slow, soothing strokes as he held you there, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a cocoon of safety and comfort.

The warmth of Tyler’s body still enveloped you as you lay there, your head resting on his chest, his hand gently running through your hair. The room was quiet now, just the soft sounds of your breathing mixing with the faint creak of the old house settling around you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. You could feel Tyler’s steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, and it grounded you, but there was something else—a nagging thought that you couldn’t quite shake.

You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him. “Tyler...” you began, your voice soft, but tinged with uncertainty.

He looked down at you, his brows furrowing just a little, concern immediately flashing in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “What... what does this mean for us?” you asked, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you. “I mean, is this... was this just a one-time thing?”

Tyler’s expression softened instantly, and he reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over your skin.

“A one-time thing?” he repeated, his voice almost incredulous. “Are you kidding?”

You averted your gaze, feeling a little silly for even asking, but Tyler didn’t let you look away. He gently guided your chin back toward him, making sure your eyes met his.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers,” he said, his voice low but steady, like it was the most natural thing in the world to admit. “I just... I didn’t think I had a shot in hell with someone like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in slowly. “Someone like me?” you echoed, a small laugh escaping your lips despite the serious turn of the conversation. “Tyler, you make it sound like I’m some kind of angel.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb still brushing along your cheek. “Well, that’s what you are to me,” he said with a grin. “An angel. I mean, come on... a guy like me? A cowboy who’s been out chasing storms and kicking up dust for most of his life?” His eyes sparkled with humor, but there was something deeper behind them—something genuine. “I didn’t think I deserved a shot with someone as good as you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at his words. “Cowboys and angels...” you teased, the playfulness returning to your voice. “Seems like a pretty good combination to me.”

Tyler laughed, the sound warm and rich, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go. “Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Turns out, they go real well together.”

For a moment, you both lay there in the quiet, the weight of his confession settling over you. It felt like everything had shifted between you, but in the best possible way. The years of friendship, the playful flirting, the unspoken connection—it had all led to this, to a moment that felt as natural as it was surprising.

You smiled up at him, the worry that had been gnawing at you now completely gone. “So... we’re doing this?” you asked softly, your hand resting over his heart.

Tyler grinned, his eyes full of warmth as he leaned in, kissing you tenderly. “Yeah,” he whispered against your lips. “We’re doing this.”

And with that, the uncertainty melted away, replaced by the deep, undeniable certainty that this was where you were meant to be—wrapped up in the arms of the man who had loved you all along, even when you hadn’t realized it. The cowboy and his angel, right where they belonged.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Smut

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sako-mii · 7 months ago

Text

-> Doctor's visit

Pairing: Zayne x reader

Tagging: @coxxxmo @rachoka @oni-girx @mill-s @chandeliermichel @tulipsaisle

Warning: You're going for a checkup after a long time, what does Zayne have to say?

Going to the doctor for your regular check ups was something you were used to, but right now, it was something you dreaded. You haven't been to the doctor for a while because of all the missions you took so here you were, sitting nervously in front of the doctor's office with your reports in your hands. You knew that the reports didn't find anything bad, but knowing your Doctor who is also your boyfriend, you could only hope he'd go easy on you with his scolding. You watched a patient walking out of his office and stood up from your seat, saying your last silent prayer before entering his office.

As you entered, you watched him typing on his laptop, his glasses perfectly sitting on his nose and his usual stern expression. Your heart fluttered at his sight after not seeing him for a while but you snapped back when he glanced at you briefly. "Look who decided to show up." He uttered while keeping his gaze on his laptop. Even though his voice was calm, you could tell that he was anything but that. "And here I thought that this wasn't of importance to you." He continued when you didn't say anything. He looked up at you and held his hand out to take your reports. You silently handed them over and watched him. You weren't sure what to say or how to respond because he seemed awfully calm when you expected him to scold you. Instead he just silently looked over your report and signed them. "Go sit on the bed so I can examine you." He said and stood up, walking towards it. You did as told and sat on the bed, looking at him and smiling awkwardly, hoping that this could ease the awkward tension you felt. He only looked at you with his usual emotionless expression, putting on his stethoscope. "Take deep breaths." He instructed and put the stethoscope against your chest, listening to your heartbeat quietly. You examined his face, taking in all of his facial features, from his sharp eyes to his soft lips, his pale skin and sharp features. "Y/n?" He asked, making you snap back. You looked at him puzzled and asked, "sorry, what was that?" He sighed and put the stethoscope down and leaned his face closer to yours. "I asked if you felt anything unusual lately. Tiredness, fatigue or any sort of pain perhaps?" He asked again and kept his eyes locked with yours. You were caught off guard by the way he leaned closer to you. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you answered, "No, not that I'd notice." You replied and looked back into his eyes. He stared at you quietly, making you wonder why when he leaned towards your ear. "Then what's making you so distracted?" He whispered, his breath hitting your ear, making you feel hot. You blushed and leaned back slightly to keep some distance. "Nothing." You replied and shifted a bit to sit more comfortably. Was he really not angry at you? You kept wondering but decided to just leave it at that, considering it a blessing. "Sorry, I was just thinking of something. But I'll focus now." You told him and shifted a little to sit comfortably. Zayne didn't say anything and nodded silently after a moment, putting on the stethoscope again. "Now, focus and take deep, slow breaths." He instructed and placed the drum against my chest again. You did as told and took a deep inhale.

You close your eyes in the process to help you stay focused. You continued to focus on your breathing when you felt soft lips against yours. Your breath hitched as you realized that Zayne kissed you and tried to pull away only for him to keep you in place by holding the back of your head. "What are you doing-?" You tried to ask but he didn't reply and pulled you back again. "Your heart is racing.." He whispered in between the kiss and nipped at your lower lip, causing you to gasp which he took advantage of to deepen the kiss. As the kiss continued, you felt the drum pressing against your chest again. Zayne pulled away after a moment to let you catch your breath. You leaned against his chest, panting and blushing, wondering and confused at the sudden behaviour he was displaying. He lets you lean against him, gently caressing your back to help you calm down. When you were calm enough, he let go of you and started writing something down. "What was that for?" You finally asked, your brows furrowed. He only shrugged but you could swear you saw him smirking before he turned around. "I was just measuring your heartbeat." He replied as he sat back in front of his desk, typing at his laptop. "Your heartbeat was unusually high. I suggest you come again for another checkup. " He continued as glanced at me over his glasses. "We wouldn't want any inconvenience again, do we?"

A/n: I love Zayne

Reblogs and likes are appreciated. Lmk if you want to be tagged<3 (or want to talk about Zayne or lads cause I wanna appreciate-)

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#zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #lads #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #x reader #zayne x you #l&ds zayne #lnd zayne #lnds zayne #lnds x reader #lads x reader

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byuntrash101 · 2 years ago

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boys like you

dom!reader x sub!felix

smut | mdni

2.2k

the first try was a test run but this time you promised to show felix what girls like you really do to boys like him. sequel to girls like me but can be read as a stand alone

nsfw tags under the cut

nerdsub!felix is too cute he just wants to be the goodest boy </3, dom!reader, felix's freckles ♡ (again), pet names (good boy, babyboy), slight degradation, slight humilation, oral (m), rimming, overstim, multiple orgasms (m), unprotected sex (uh naur), creampie, praising, handjob, corruption kink, edging, begging, facial (m)

a/n: i totally did not take months to publish part 2. anyways this is the final part i hope you enjoy <3 dont hesitate to tell me <3

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Felix just couldn’t sleep. After that encounter in the library he kept thinking about you. He kept thinking of how his body reacted to every single touch. And to think after your last class tomorrow you were going to come back to his dorm with him…

He turned on his stomach, trying to ignore the way his hardened cock rubbed on the mattress. He just needed some sleep, that's all.

At first Felix was scared things would be awkward, but they weren’t at all. You just put him at ease and he thought his heart was going to fall out of his chest when you suddenly held his hand while walking from the campus to his dorm.

You briefly greeted his roommates while he offered you something to drink. You chatted lightheartedly with Christopher from your microorganism study class and recognized Seungmin that was hanging out in the library a lot too. But that didn’t last long because to be honest you were just eager to get Felix all alone, all to yourself.

When he took you to his bedroom and closed the door behind himself he turned around and was already blushing.

“Well” his deep voice spoke just above a whisper. “That’s my room” he leaned his back against the door and looked back at you so coyly, the tip of his ears already taking on an adorable pink hue.

You waited for this for so long, you didn’t have it in you to hold back anymore. You walked to him and placed both your hands flat on the door at each side of him. By reflex Felix stiffened his back against the cold door, holding his breath as you caged him in.

“You’re already so flustered and I haven't even laid a single finger on you yet” you whispered against the thin skin of his neck as he tilted his head up, allowing you access to him. You licked along his sharp jaw and felt his throat vibrate as he let out a deep hum of satisfaction.

Your hand firmly wrapped around his waist, making him gasp. You took advantage of this to crash your lips on his. Slipping your tongue past his lips as your other hand wrapped around his neck, your thumb prying his jaw open.

He moaned into your mouth as you pressed your hips against his, your grip on his waist, tightening, bruising his sensitive skin. You felt his already hard and throbbing cock press against your lower stomach and you pushed your thigh between his legs. Felix moaned again, a deep rumble hitting you right in the chest. He couldn’t have been happier, immediately, without even much thinking he welcomed the new found pleasure as he rubbed himself against your thigh. You smirked against his lips. Yearning for more friction, he wanted you so bad. He wanted to feel you, he wanted more, more of you. But you stepped back. He couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuck, you’re already this hard from a simple little kiss” You grabbed onto his balls, lightly squeezing them which made him suck in a deep shaky breath and squint his eyes shut.

“An eager little whore, aren’t we?” you asked, tilting your face in adoration as you observed him peel one eye open and his freckled cheeks flushed red. “Say it” you ordered.

You squeezed harder when he didn’t respond quick enough. His jaw fell open.

“F-fuck” he whispered under his breath. “I-I’m an eager little whore” he finally let out. Already he felt like he could cum just from the sheer humiliation he was feeling, shame and arousal bubbling in his guts and mixing until indiscernible.

You smirked when you noticed his dick twitch, you were still testing the waters here but you were pleased to discover elite student Lee Felix enjoyed a little pain and humiliation.

You let go of his sack to bring your hand over his clothed hard on. Palming it very lightly. It took Felix everything he had not to grind against you again.

“You know I'm not holding back today, right love?” you whispered into his ear. The pet name sent a myriad of butterflies in his stomach.

“Y-yes” he said, holding his breath, as he let his hips jerk one single time unintentionally out of reflex.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anybody else” you growled in his ear.

“Yes, yes please” he answered. “I don’t want anybody else” he said, his deep voice cracking.

“Good boy” you praised applying more pressure as a reward which made him moan. “Strip for me and lay on the bed.”

In a split second Felix was completely nude laid down on the bed for you. His red and swollen cock laying flat on his stomach and leaking precum onto his abs. The sight of him obediently waiting for you made your cunt pulse.

“Spread your legs, babyboy” you ordered as you also slipped out of your clothes, abandoning them without a care on the carpeted floor. You felt your heartbeat stutter as you spotted Felix’s hole.

You found your spot between his legs, wrapping your arms under his thighs and your palms pushing his hips down.

“You’re already so wet for me” you said, swiping your tongue on his slit as he arched his back. The salty taste was absolutely divine. You took him past your lips, your tongue focussing on the sensitive head.

Felix couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe your beautiful face was currently taking his cock. His dick disappearing behind your lips, just before reappearing covered in your spit. Fuck he wanted this to never ever end.

“Fuck” he gasped as you sucked him harder hollowing your cheeks and looking up at his flushed face, his freckles almost erased by the tomato red tint spread across his cheeks and nose.

When you felt him dangerously twitch you popped him out of your mouth in a lewd wet sound. He wanted to whimper at the loss of your lips around him but was cut with a gasp when you pulled on his hips, lifting them in the air. Felix found himself in a very precarious situation where his body weight was resting on his upper back and his legs were spread in the air.

You wrapped your arm around his waist and started to pump around his cock. Resting his lower back against your chest and spreading his ass cheeks with your other hand. You found yourself face to face with his blinking eager little hole. You immediately delved in, swirling your tongue around his rim. Felix started to moan, this time it was more high pitched.

You gave him a couple licks as you lazily pumped around his hard cock now dripping precum onto Felix’s chest and neck due to the position.

Then you pushed one finger in. The reaction was everything you had hoped for. The lewdest, most sinful sound you ever heard escaped Felix's lips.

“Like that baby?” you asked as you curled your finger right into the blonde’s prostate.

“Yesss!!! Oh my god” he choked.

It was the very first time he was fingered and he never suspected it could feel this good. He had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand trying to muffle his moans as you started to come and go inside his tight little ass.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby” you whispered, planting a kiss on his inner thigh. “I want Chris and Seungmin to hear how much of a good little slut you are for me” you sunk your teeth into the soft fleshy muscle as Felix obediently laid back his hand at his side.

You slipped another finger in and Felix couldn’t help but to scream in bliss, sure that this time his roommates had heard him. But he couldn’t help himself at the way you were deliciously spreading him open, loosening his tight little hole while you started pumping around his cock a little faster. Felix was seeing stars.

“Yes fucking scream for me” you said swirling your tongue around your fingers adding yet an other layer of pleasure to Felix.

You kept on harassing his sweet spot and cock head until his legs were trembling.

“C-Can I cum?” he asked, already about to burst.

“Hold it in a little longer for me okay?” you asked, looking down at him. He whined, as his vision turned blurry.

He knew he was already too far gone. He wouldn’t be able to hold on unless you completely stopped.

“I c-can’t” he said through gritted teeth, fisting the sheets beside his face and trying his best not to cum.

He was so cute, chest as flushed as the tip of his cock, eyes glazed over. You could tell he was doing his absolute maximum to be obedient and keep it in but truth is. You wanted him to fail.

You started to pump your fingers in and out faster and held onto his cock tighter, setting him for failure as he came undone.

“I’m sorry” he cried.

You felt his hole flutter open and clenching down on your fingers as he reached his peak. You angled his cock right at his face as large ropes of hot cum came crashing down on his face as he chanted “sorry sorry sorry” squirts after squirts of thick cum splashing on his freckled cheeks and his half open lips, mumbling apologies.

You slowed down the pace allowing him to ride off his high. Squeezing the last drops of cum right out of his tip and licking your fingers clean of the remnants.

You let go of him and his legs fall back in front of him while his red chest heaved up and down.

“You really can’t listen to simple orders can you now?” you grabbed him by the neck, straddling him, the harsh gesture pulled him down from his high.

“I’m s-sorry. I-I really tried” he panted “It just felt too good I couldn’t-”

“Shut up!” you said, squeezing around his neck, Felix’s jaw automatically went lax, his beautiful brown eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Before his dick went limp you grabbed it at the base and aimed it at your entrance. Felix shuddered when he felt his sensitive tip rub against your dripping heat. You sunk down your hips on him, he couldn't help but to mewl so pathetically as he shook under you from overstimulation.

You smirked, knowing the torture had just begun for him.

With all of this teasing you found yourself just as eager for release and since you didn’t have one ounce of mercy left in you you decided to set the killing pace right from the get go.

You moan in bliss at how full you felt, Felix’s pretty cock perfectly fitting inside you. You sighed as the familiar knot tightened in the pit of your stomach, the sounds of skin clashing against skin bouncing off the thin walls of the dorm bedroom.

Felix on the other hand felt like his body was going up in flames, large beads of sweat running down his temples and wetting the pillow he was currently fisting, trying his best not to let his hands fly to your waist to stop their relentless back and forth. He could help but to scream at the overstimulation, the forced pleasure transforming into torture.

“I’m almost there, sweet babyboy” you moaned, smiling fondly at the blonde’s face distorted with pain and pleasure. “You’re gonna be a good boy and let me use you until I cum?” you questioned as you had one hand on his chest, helping you keep your balance as you smashed your hips down just to reel them back up again.

“Yesssss!!!” Felix agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically, his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. “Please please please use me” he begged. Those words were costing him his sanity but he didn’t care. He only wanted to be good to you. Be good for you. To please you. In this moment he felt like it was his only purpose. He was born for this. Born to feel the strangulating clenches of your sweet dripping cunt around his cock, reduced to a mere toy for your pleasure. That’s what he wanted to be for you.

“You’re my toy” you said, seeming to have read his mind, raspy voice lowering.

Felix needed nothing more to cum a second time. This time the climax ripped through his entire body sending his soul ablaze as he delivered his seed inside you. You followed right after continuing your coming and going and fucking his cum deeper into your pulsating pussy. Soon your movements became sloppy, unable to maintain the pace as you also reach your peak, heat overflowing your body and mind as you slipped into a trance.

You crashed next to felix. You turned your face to see him looking completely at peace with himself, his lips parted and taking breaths, the blonde fringe stuck to his sweaty forehead.

You caressed his cheeks with the back of your hand and he immediately pressed his face against you.

“You did so well for me, my baby” you praised. “my pretty babyboy” you said fondly pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Give me 15 minutes and I promise this time I’ll be even better for you”

IF YOU ENJOYED DONT FORGET TO REBLOG 🖤

a/n: im going brrr brrr for sub!lix he's just so cute like i cant! i hope you enjoyed. dont hesitate to tell me if you did. my asks are open always <3

taglist (i tagged everyone that asked for part 2 i hope you dont mind): @imastraykidsfan @skzfelixlove @rizikimkim @ploopy1423 @catirita10 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @moonyangels @sujurunaway @lilquokka04 @fawnpeaks @ipegchangbin

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russellsppttemplates · 10 months ago

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Do you know the little fishes? (Charles Leclerc)

Charles' attention is drawn to the way you're invested in your home country's football qualifying game

Note: english is not my first language. I love me some football and I sort of channelled my energy from the last game we lost too! On the side, if you haven't already, you can read this one here where it goes well for the reader's team!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Charles didn't mind watching the football despite Monaco not having their own national team. He often supported the country the people watching the game with him were supporting or the best nations throughout history in which he recognised the biggest legends of the sport.

However, when he met you, the perspective shifted, especially for your national team. No matter where you were in the world, you would get up at an ungodly hour to watch the football, kissing Charles' forehead and tucking the sheets back in as you moved to another part of the room, sometimes the living room part of the room was that big, your tablet in hand as you watched the game, trying your best to keep quiet as you knew your boyfriend needed his sleep.

"Amour, at what time is the game today?", Charles asked as he poured himself some water from the glass bottle. Because it was a night race, he didn't have to go to the paddock until after lunch, and since you were on the other side of the world, the football game was on at breakfast time.

"It's in thirty minutes", you smiled, "do you mind it if we have breaking the room instead of downstairs? Or you can go downstairs while I watch the football, I have some snacks from the plane", you quickly reassured.

Charles smiled, grabbing his phone and tapping in the hotel app, "like I'd let you watch the game on your own", he shook his head, "I know how important it is to you", he kissed your forehead, sitting next to you as you watched the players warm up on the TV, kissing the top of your head, "are you thinking eggs or something sweeter?".

"He's not playing?", Charles questioned as they recorded the players on the bench, "no, he picked up an injury in training, I'm not sure how we're going to do today", you mumbled, "but the guy that's going in his place is very good, he's a bit young but everyone says he's a prodigy", you attempted to lift your own spirits.

The breakfast arrived a little after the first kick, Charles getting it from the door and making sure to display it on the table in front of you without blocking your view, having been once hit with a pillow when he walked in front of the screen just as your team did the last penalty shoot out for the final round of qualifiers.

"Here's your latte, gorgeous", he said when the game was a little quieter, earning him a kiss on his cheek from you, "thank you, they're playing really well", you groaned as the other team kept approaching the goal.

It only took the opposing team a few minutes to score the first goal, the fans recorded on the stands erupting in cheer as you crossed your arms over your chest, straightening up your back and looking at the replay of the goal, seeing no issue and slumping your shoulders, "it's a good goal", you mumbled.

"Like you always say, there's still a lot of game to play, amour", Charles added as your eyes followed the ball, feeling his hand back on your thigh and squeezing it.

"C'mon, you can do better than that, I know you can!", you groaned as another ball hit the bar.

Rubbing your forehead in circles, you sighed as your team scored just before half-time, "this isn't going anywhere! Our defense is like a large fishing net, everyone can get through and skip throughout them! They need to be those fishing nets that they use to get the little fishes! Do you know the little fishes, Charles?", you showed him your fingers almost pinched together, "the holes in the fishing net are so so so tiny that no fish can escape!", you spoke passionately, getting up to use the bathroom quickly.

"They're all playing really well", you said as you noticed the players going back in the pitch, doing all sorts of exercises, "they're just trying to go from the wings and it's so much clearer on the middle section", you reasoned as Charles nodded, "maybe the coach told them in the dressing room, they all look like they've had their behind handed to them on a platter", Charles chuckled, "they deserve it", you smiled, resting your back against his chest.

"Now the referee? I mean, c'mon!", you grunted, seeing the man in the pink t-shirt run to the screen and analyse the footage, "Oh, it looks like it's a penalty", you admitted despite not loving the fact, "maybe he won't see it", you shrugged innocently.

"I'm sure they'll notice it, chérie", Charles offered, not reading into your sarcasm before you looked up at him, "a girl can dream, handsome, a girl can dream".

The second part kept growing in tension, the other team scoring twice in the space of five minutes after scoring the penalty, "I can't watch this anymore", you sighed, eyes focused on the screen as they were waiting to validate a goal, the offside lines not clear enough on the moment and requiring further analysis.

"It's impressive how much they can get to know with technologies these days", Charles chirped in, hoping to distract you enough to relax against his embrace, "they also waste a lot of time though. I timed the game a couple of months ago and they only had the ball rolling for a little over an hour in total. Imagine if you had to do fifteen laps under a safety car", you tried the comparison.

Luckily, the goal was indeed offside, but your team still couldn't manage to out the ball in the opponent's net.

"Is it bad if I say that we're being robbed even though the other team is playing better?", you squinted, seeing the referee had given an extra time of three minutes, the players just making sure the ball never left the middle of the pitch, trying to leave the score unaltered.

"It was a well disputed match still, they didn't have luck on their side", Charles said, rubbing your arm gently and kissing the side of your head as you waited to the final whistle.

When you got to the track, Carlos was the first one to come and talk to you, "so, Y/N, that face can only mean you've watched the football", he teased.

The frown was a little evident as soon as you didn't feel the public eye on you, knowing they would be quick to judge, "they did their best, and their best was a little bit shit today", you shrugged your shoulders, "sometimes it's like this", you quoted your boyfriend, taking comfort in his words you usually hated when they left his mouth.

"She was a great supporter though, she got up early, she had the stripes of paint on her cheeks, her scarf and her t-shirt", Charles noted, "she was the most dedicated, cheerful and the best supporter, it's a shame they didn't feel it!".

"Now I'm going to support Ferrari, and you boys better not disappoint me", you snickered, kissing Charles' lips one last time before they headed off to their meeting.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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sarahowritesostucky · 11 months ago

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3658

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

3. Cream filled Sponge Cakes (with chemicals)

Bucky

They plan out what they’re going to do when they get to the hospital on the car ride over.

“I think it’s best if you wait outside at first,” Bucky says, glancing away from the road for a second to try and gauge Steve’s reaction to this. He looks neutral. “Just because she’s already pissed,” he adds. “And it’ll probably be overwhelming having one person telling her they’re taking custody, let alone two.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “That makes sense.”

Bucky holds his hand out over the center console, waiting for Steve to take it. He does, and Bucky grips his hand tight. “I’ll get the initial stuff out of the way. I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of paperwork.”

“What if she refuses?” Steve worries. “She can, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t have any legal hold on her. Yet. I’ll just have to try and talk sense into her, get her to see that we’re better than the alternative.”

Steve gives his hand a squeeze back. “You can do it.”

Bucky sighs. “I hope so. I really do.” Inside though, he’s already not so sure.

They get to the hospital about forty-five minutes after Bucky’d hung up from the phone call with the police officer. He spots a cruiser parked outside when they approach the emergency room, and it rankles his nerves to think of Mary being forcibly shoved into the back seat of said car.

He goes to the check in desk with Steve and asks for Officer Santiago. “I got a call about an involuntary hold. My submissive,” he says.

The woman at the desk does a double take at that, looking up and down Bucky where he stands like she’s just realized he’s a different species. “Oh,” she says. “You're one of those?”

Bucky ignores it, but he can sense Steve tensing up by his side, indignant on his behalf. “Yes,” he says. “I am.” He’s not going to waste time getting on his spiel about mental illness and stigmatization. They’ve got bigger problems right now. “I’m going to need her records,” he says, injecting authority into his tone. “And any paperwork for transfer of custody. The cops brought her in. Name’s Mary.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look self-assured while he waits, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the woman demands a last name.

It takes her several minutes to gather everything up for Bucky. She hands it all over to him and says, “That’s the paperwork for custody. The attending physician should be able to provide you with her medical workup.” She points to a set of double doors. “You go down that hallway and to the left. Bed number four.”

Bucky nods and thanks her, then turns to Steve.

“I know,” Steve says, putting on a brave smile. “I’ll wait here.”

“Baby.” Bucky steps close, pulling him into his arms. Steve’s physically just a little bigger than him, and Bucky has always liked the novelty of that. He kisses him gently and then rests their foreheads together for a moment, letting Steve feel their connection. “I love you,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing I could ever hope for, you know that?”

Steve’s smile is more natural, now. “Yeah I know it.” He gives Bucky another kiss and stands back. “Hey, what about this?” He knocks on Bucky’s shoulder—the metal one. “She know about that?”

Bucky realizes that he’s not wearing his glove, and tries to remember if he’d had it on at the café. He frowns. “Oh well. I don’t think that’s going to be her main focus, not after I explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.” Steve gives him a light push. “I Love you. Now on and get the hard part over with. I’ll be here when you need me.”

Bucky nods. He knows he will. He goes back to the check in desk, one last question on his mind. “Is there a food court or something around here?”

Mary

Mary’s taken a break from saying pissy things to the cop who’s guarding her. She’s been so angry, she’s felt like her skin’s boiling. But now she’s starting to get tired, too. She hadn’t slept last night, just stayed up and gabbed on the phone to that crisis counselor.

She grits her teeth as she fumes about that, feeling betrayed all over again. That bitch had called the cops on her!

“You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

Liar!

“I hope you know I don’t have insurance,” Mary snaps at the officer. He’s sitting in a chair in her little curtained off area. He regards her coolly, saying nothing, and she jerks her head to indicate the emergency room. “And I’m not paying a single red cent for any of this.” So far, they’ve taken her blood, her pulse, an EKG, and sent in nurses, a resident, and several shrinks. They’d tried to put an IV in her but she’d ripped it out as soon as nobody was looking. “I’m suing the hospital,” she adds. “And you. I’m suing the whole police department.”

“Okay,” Santiago says, annoyingly calm.

Mary growls, rattling her hand where it’s cuffed to the bed rail. “This is unconstitutional!”

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and then the curtain to their area is being pulled aside. Mary’s eyes go wide when she sees who it is. “You?!”

Bucky smiles politely at her. “Me.” He steps into the curtained room, a little snack bag in his hand. He holds it up to show her, and she sees the Hostess logo. It’s a bag of little … sponge cake pastries. “Best I could do on such short notice. They’re for you, if you behave,” he says, talking to her like a pet being offered a treat.

Mary wrinkles her nose. “Pass. D’you even know all the chemicals they put in those things?”

Bucky shrugs and turns to offer them to officer Santiago, who more than happily accepts. Mary pouts as she watches him rip open the bag and stuff one in his mouth.

“How are you doing, Mary?”

She turns her attention to Bucky and scowls at the way he uses her name like he knows her. “Awful,” she says. She jerks her head at Santiago. “Officer Dickwad over here won’t let me have my phone.”

“Language,” Santiago says dispassionately, through a mouthful of cake.

“Shut up and eat your fucking donut, Rent’a’cop.”

Bucky

He puts his foot down once she starts flinging curses and insults at the officer. As a paramedic, Steve is always in and out of emergency rooms, often working in coordination with law enforcement to deal with uncooperative patients. So Bucky knows just how much drama and belligerence these guys have to deal with on the regular.

“Hey,” he says sternly. “Don’t disrespect him. He’s just doing his job.” He’s not mean about it, but it’s verging on what Steve likes to call his “Dom” voice, and Bucky can see how it affects Mary. She freezes up, all of her focus on him. For a few seconds, she even forgets to be angry. Bucky takes the opportunity to step close to the bed. He eyes where she’s cuffed to the rail. “Mary,” he says gently. “I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re angry.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she growls. “They just showed up and threw me in a cop car! Didn’t even give me a choice!”

Bucky reaches out and places his hand atop her cuffed wrist. It’s his metal hand. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry it happened that way. But do you understand why people were concerned for your safety?”

Her face tenses up as she tries to hold back some emotion (something tells Bucky it isn’t anger, this time). “They called the cops,” she pouts. “They lied to me.”

“They did,” Bucky agrees, wanting to placate her. “But you were hurting yourself, honey. And you were talking about doing worse, weren’t you?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead staring at where he’s holding her wrist. “I … I talked about a lot of things,” she mumbles. “It was just talk. I don't even remember half of it. I didn’t … I wasn’t really gonna do anything.”

“Can you show me where you hurt yourself?” Bucky asks, careful to keep his voice gentle. “I want to see how bad it is.”

Mary shivers, shaking her head sadly. Her hair is loose and hanging messy around her face, so Bucky reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. He hears her give a quiet, shaky inhale. “Come on now,” he coaxes. “Let me see.”

For a long moment, it seems like she won’t obey, but then her shoulders sink down and she takes a deep breath and lets it out, whispering a tiny little. “... kay,” as her hands creep down to take hold of the tee shirt she’s wearing. It’s extra large, going all the way to her knees, and it’s all she’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t know if the police brought her in that way, or if it’s something the hospital gave her to put on after being examined, but either way, he schools his expression as she edges the tee shirt up her leg, higher and higher, until it becomes apparent that she is wearing underwear, and she’s bared her hip to him.

Cutting, then.

Bucky looks her over, not as upset by the fresh cuts so much as the old ones. They litter the skin of her upper thigh and hip—some so old they’re scars, some still in various stages of healing. Bucky forces himself not to touch, even though his brain is screaming at him to fix fix fix! There’s nothing here that can be fixed easily—certainly not with a bandaid. Bucky takes a moment to calm himself down before he asks, “How long have you been doing this, honey?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She shoves the tee shirt back down and meets his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Moment of truth, Bucky thinks. “The police called me. They got my number from your phone. They wanted to call your Dom to come get you.”

She frowns, looking confused. “But … you’re not—”

“Officer Santiago,” Bucky says quickly, cutting her off. “Could you give us a moment alone please?”

“Sure.” Santiago gets up and takes his bag of cakes with him. “Just a couple’a minutes,” he warns, then steps outside the curtain and pulls it shut. Bucky can see as his shoes walk away.

“You told them you were my Dom?!” Mary hisses.

Bucky looks at her sternly. “No. They assumed I was. You had me in your phone.”

“I … I did?”

Bucky’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” she huffs. “I’m not even submissive.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” Bucky says. He reaches up and gathers her hair back in one fist and pulls—gently, just enough to put the barest of pressure on her scalp—forcing her to raise her chin. She visibly reacts to it, softening into his grip, eyes slipping closed and features going slack. “You like that,” Bucky says, making it a statement rather than a question, because it’s obvious she does.

Her eyes open slowly. “S’nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He releases her hair, cupping the back of her neck instead. He grips her firmly in his hand, and this time she nearly moans, lips parting and the sound coming out before she can fully stifle it. Bucky’s mouth curls and he hums. “And that? Is that ‘nothing’ too?”

“Please.” She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, which is typical. There’s a little pinch between her eyebrows that’s so sweet and needy, Bucky wants to kiss it. It makes her look like she might cry, and that thrills him too. “Please,” she whispers. “I just wanna go home.”

“You’re not going home, Honey,” he tells her, keeping the grip on her neck steady and petting at her hair with his other hand. She’s going down a little, likely so easily because of the alcohol in her system, because of how deprived she’s been until now. She whines a little at his words and he shushes her. “They won’t let you. You’re either gonna have to let me take you, or else stay here in the hospital, in the psych ward.”

Mary whimpers. “No.”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I know. I don’t want that for you either, but you have to make the choice. If you want to leave here, then you have to sign the paperwork that gives me custody of you.” He tilts her chin up. “Look at me now, Honey.” She’s sluggish, so it takes a second, but her eyes come up as she obeys. They’re a little glossy, pupils blown wide, and Bucky gives her neck an encouraging squeeze. “Good girl,” he praises.

She practically melts at hearing that. “Please …” she says again.

Bucky would bet money that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. He does, though. He knows down to the marrow of his bones what a ‘please’ like that means. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you. I will.” He bends and pecks a kiss to her forehead, then steps away. She makes a weak noise of protest and he shushes her.

“I’m just gonna go get officer Santiago back. … And my husband, Steve.”

She blinks at the word ‘husband’. “Steve?” she repeats, shoulders shrinking as she pulls into herself. “But—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky promises. “He’s a very nice man. You’ll like him.”

Mary looks unsure. Bucky’s glad she’s down, otherwise he’s fairly certain she’d be arguing by now, maybe even pitching a fit and cursing. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a hesitant little, “... He’s like you?”

“No. No he’s not designated. He’s—”

“Normal.” She says it so sadly, sounds so demoralized. Bucky has to fight the urge to correct her, to give her a speech about how, ‘just because they’re designated, it doesn’t make them abnormal’. He bites his tongue. What’s more important right now is that she’s making progress in accepting the reality that she’s almost certainly submissive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Steve’s not like us. But I wanted him to come in here and meet you. Do you think you can do that for me, Sweetie?” The pet names come naturally, are a part of his dynamic as a Dom, and Bucky can tell that she responds favorably to them. “Hm? Answer me, Mary.”

(And of course, the use of her name gets instant attention and obedience.)

“Okay,” she says. “Yes.”

He smiles and gives her a heartfelt, “Good girl,” wanting to show her that he’s pleased, that she’s doing well. “I’m gonna go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve

Steve is equal parts excited and nervous to meet the woman Bucky has found, the woman they’re going to be taking care of. … Maybe more, if things work out.

He holds Bucky’s hand as he’s led back to where the emergency room beds are. Bucky draws back the curtain and Steve sees the cop sitting there, looking bored, … and her.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hey.”

She’s pretty—which is saying a lot, because that’s Steve’s first thought, despite the state of her. She’s got goo gobs of dark eye makeup that it looks like she put on once she was already drunk, and by now it’s been smeared to kingdom come by tears and her own hands. Her hair sits messy and unbrushed around her shoulders, and her eyes are glazed and tired from a high that’s probably going to wear off soon and leave her looking even more exhausted than she already does.

“Hey,” Steve says, eyes flicking up and down her body where she’s sitting on the bed. She’s wearing nothing but a big tee shirt, and Steve allows himself one glance down at her shapely legs, then resolutely keeps his eyes trained upwards. She’s a disheveled mess, but even like that, Steve can see how she drew Bucky’s attention, that day in the café.

“Hi,” Mary says.

Steve smiles hopefully. By his side, Bucky squeezes his hand in encouragement, and offers, “Mary, this is Steve, my husband.”

Steve watches her face, curious to know what she thinks of Bucky being married. He’s expecting displeasure maybe, imagining that a submissive would feel jealous or upset, if their prospective Dom was already attached to someone else.

But she seems to stay calm, sitting there and taking Steve in with slow blinks, even looking a little bit shy herself. “... You’re big,” she eventually says. “I thought you’d be smaller than him.”

Steve grins and he hears Bucky’s scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with our dynamic.”

Steve knows he’s got half an inch on Bucky, more muscle mass too, but he’s never felt bigger than his husband. Bucky’s personality, his dominance, is larger than Steve.

Mary’s still staring at him, a thoughtful little pinch between her eyebrows. Steve waits in expectation of a question, but none comes. “What?” he asks. He pulls up the room’s extra plastic chair and sits close to the bed, offering her his hand. He’s surprised when she takes it. Steve stares thoughtfully at his hand as she drags her fingers over his fingers, his palm, still not saying anything. He looks over at Bucky, concerned. “Did they give her drugs?”

Thankfully, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s down,” he explains.

Oh. Okay. That’d explain her calm affect. Steve had come in here halfway expecting a screaming hellcat. He hadn’t expected this. He turns back to Mary, giving her a friendly look. “Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?”

She bites her lip, clearly working something out in her head. “Bucky said you two have a ‘dynamic’.”

“He did.”

“But he said you’re normal.”

Steve’s lips thin once he figures out what she means. “We’re all normal,” he scolds. “But no, I don’t have ‘Dominant or Submissive Personality Disorder’, if that’s what you mean.” He puts sarcastic quotes around words to clearly convey his distaste for the classification. He wants her to know how ridiculous he finds it.

“Babe,” Bucky warns quietly from behind. “We’re not getting political right now, okay? Just focus on her, on what we have to do.”

“Right, sorry.” He knows that Bucky’s right, so he tries again, telling Mary, “I’m ‘normal’, but Bucky and I still have a very intimate relationship together. We’re husbands. So yeah, we’ve developed our own dynamic. When I’m with him I tend to follow his lead, so to speak.” He smiles and shrugs. “It works for us.”

Mary looks like she’s thinking this new information over. There’s a slowness to her, a dreaminess in her expressions and her reactions.Steve figures it’s a combination of her being down, and not being sober. In fact, he can smell the vodka leaking out of her pores. It’s actually pretty horrible. “So does that make sense?” he prods her gently. “Mary?”

“… Yeah, I think so.” She eyes him up and down, looking back and forth between him and Bucky. “What will you do?” she asks Steve. She blushes a little from asking the question, so he deduces that she’s asking what he’ll do with her; what their dynamic together will be, outside of her and Bucky.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, because that’s all he knows for sure, and he wants her to feel safe. Steve knows that it’s absolutely crucial for this woman to feel safe right now, if they’re going to take her home with them. “Bucky and I both will.” He holds her hand—the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed—enveloping it between his. “It’ll be much better than staying here,” he promises. “You’ll be so safe. And much happier.”

Mary’s body draws in, seems to actually get smaller as she pulls back into herself. “I’m never happy,” she says mournfully. It hurts Steve’s heart to see it, so he knows it must be killing Bucky, given his overly protective instincts. Steve glances over at him. “Babe?”

Bucky has a clipboard full of papers, which Steve knows must be the custody orders. “Here, Honey,” he tells Mary, handing her the clipboard and the pen. “This is what you have to sign to be able to come home with us.”

It kind of bothers Steve that Bucky doesn’t encourage her to read through the documents more thoroughly, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows they have only the best intentions for her. She’ll be safe with them. He watches as she signs her signature in the places Bucky points out, trying to scan some of the fine print as she goes. Anxiety is written across her face and she starts to bite at the chapped skin on her bottom lip. “But, um … what if I’m not what you think?” she worried, not looking at either of them.

Bucky pets her hair and reassures her. “You are, sweetheart. Trust me. And we’re gonna take you to a therapist anyway, to get an official diagnosis.”

Normally Steve would be scoffing at the word “diagnosis,” but he’s too busy watching the two of them together. There’s a strange feeling in his gut, at seeing his husband touch Mary like that, at hearing him call her pet names and calmly take control of her. Steve’s never seen Bucky dom another person before, and he … he kind of doesn’t hate it. In fact, it’s actually making him feel all the more attracted to Bucky, and curious about Mary. Like he wants to help, wants to get to know her.

She signs the rest of the documents without making a fuss, so Steve figures he’ll be getting that chance.

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youunravelme · 2 years ago

Text

to all the girls you loved before part 3

author's note: thanks for all the kind words you left in the last two parts!! to everyone who wanted to be tagged but didn’t, i tried and tumblr wouldn’t let me, for some reason. :(

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, volatile/toxic relationship

day thirty two

"you look rough."

maybe it was the look on your face, or maybe it was your slouched shoulders. either way, mat almost immediately offered you a cup of coffee instead of apologizing.

"my roommate kept me up with her midnight hijinks. i couldn't sleep."

mat grimaced and all but shoved the cup of coffee in your hands. "i know i say this every day, but if you need to nap when ella goes down, the guest room is open."

you took a sip, cringing at the black coffee, but grateful for it anyway. "i might take you up on that offer."

"when you say 'hijinks'..." he trailed off.

"she was fucking someone really loudly. has been for awhile now," you said as you plopped down on the couch, some of the coffee spilling out of the mug and onto your fingers.

"must be nice," mat grumbled. he gestured to ella who was sitting on the floor with toys in a pack in play. "i haven't gotten any since before ella."

"you expect me to be shocked by that?" he stared at you blankly. "mat, i would know if you were seeing someone. mainly because i'm here more than you are."

he opened his mouth to protest, but sat down on the couch next to you. "touche."

"what time do you have to be at practice today?"

a quick glance at his watch told you it was later than he anticipated when he all but jumped off the couch and ran back to his room.

"running late?" you managed to croak out between laughs.

mat poked his head back into the living room with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "just a little."

"are you driving or is tito picking you up?"

"ee-o," he called from the bathroom. you could only surmise that you were meant to understand that tito was the one driving today.

and like he was summoned, tito burst through the front door and ignored your presence in favor of cooing at ella.

"are you a sweet girl?" he asked. she didn't pay him any attention, more enraptured with the book in front of her. tito huffed and looked at you. "why is she in baby jail?"

you couldn't stop yourself, a laugh slipped out. "baby jail?"

"it's a pack and play, tito," mat said from the bathroom. "and she's in there because she's safe while i get ready."

"then what are you paying mary poppins here for?" tito joked.

"i don't disturb happy babies," you shrugged.

it was silent for a moment. you and tito held eye contact before he moved to sit on the couch next to you. "you've trained him well," he whispered. "didn't think he had a paternal bone in his body."

you didn't know what it was about tito that always had you smiling. maybe it was the fact that he was so at ease all the time. or the earnest attitude he had. or maybe it was the diehard loyalty to mat. or it could've just been that he was fun to be around.

"give him some credit," you said. "he's made a lot of changes in the past month."

"no denying there. the whole team can see it. you've been good for him, momma bear."

you almost shot off the couch. "mama bear?"

"tito," mat groaned from his place in the bathroom. "i thought i told you not to call her that."

the man in question looked unbothered. "you can't say you wouldn't go mama bear on someone for ella."

you opened and closed your mouth before looking down and ignoring him entirely. a quick glance at the clock on your phone had you changing the subject. "aren't you supposed to be leaving now?"

"we would if mat would stop fixing his hair," tito snipped. he turned his head towards the hallway bathroom. "your hair is going into a helmet, mathew. we're not going to the met gala."

mat came out dressed in all black with his hair looking....

the exact same as it did seven minutes ago.

"what the hell took you so long?" tito asked. "you look like you always do. with the amount of time it took you to get ready, i was hoping you would've looked better."

mat flipped off tito, but other than that, ignored him entirely. he walked over to where ella was and picked her up, kissing the top of her head when she curled into his chest. "i'll be back later, ella bean. i love you."

your ears heard everything, but the moment felt private, so you pretended like someone was texting you something important at 7:30 in the morning. the phone had your focus until mat called your name; you looked up almost immediately.

"i'll be back in a few hours."

day thirty four

"i'm so glad you're here," mat said as soon as he opened up the door. you walked in, albeit hesitantly, waiting for someone or something to jump out at you. there weren't many times when someone was actually excited to see you. though, you supposed, all that changed when you met mat.

"what happened? is ella okay?" you asked warily.

he smiled. "she's great! she's in the pack and play while i got ready. are you okay? how are you?"

"i'm fine?...look are you okay? you seem, hyper."

mat shrugged. "just excited. i have a surprise for you."

you blinked once. twice. three times. until the words finally registered with you. "a surprise?" you'd only known him for a month, how did he know you well enough to surprise you?

it was like a switch flipped and suddenly mat was rubbing the back of his neck and walking over to ella to find something to do. "well yeah," he said. "i know you said you didn't really know anything about hockey, so i thought you could come to the game today."

you opened your mouth to reply but he cut you off.

"an--and you could bring jason! i have two tickets, one for you, one for him."

"what about ella?" you asked. "her sleep schedule might be affected."

"i thought about that, but i talked to matt martin and he said sydney, his wife, had done it. worse comes to worst, we can set up a pack and play in the box and she could sleep there for the time being."

you looked at him, and really looked at him. usually, mat was full of confidence, walked around like he owned the place (which in this case, he kinda did). but now? he would barely meet your eye and kept rubbing the back of his neck like he had an itch there.

"i'll go!" you said to finally put him out of his misery. "i just--what do you wear to a hockey game?"

mat's eyes lit up like a kid on christmas. "you can wear my jersey!" you must've had a look on your face because he quickly backtracked. "or tito's! if you want."

"no!" you said before you could stop yourself. "no, i'll wear your jersey. i know you better anyway." you weren't sure what it was but the poorly concealed panic on mat's face did something to make you agree. jason probably wouldn't like it, but you could probably explain that everyone wore jerseys at games. it wasn't that big of a deal.

"great," mat smiled. "that's--that's great."

and it was. you stayed at mat's apartment until it was time to leave for the game. you were dressed in your jeans and threw mat's jersey over your shirt, when jason texted that he was outside. you tossed on a coat. you grabbed ella who was decked out in a mini barzal jersey and sweat pants and sitting in her car seat. you made a quick grab for the diaper bag before locking up.

you met jason down at his car where he sat in the driver's seat. he didn't get out to open the back seat for ella, the most he did was unlock the car. when you finally got her situated, you got in the front seat, not sparing him a glare at his lack of help.

"thanks for the assistance," you bit out.

"i didn't know what you wanted me to do. i'm not a mind reader!" jason snapped back as he pulled the car away from the curb. "besides, it's just a baby car seat, it's not like you couldn't handle it."

"it would've been nice had you even offered to grab the diaper bag or offered any help at all."

jason scoffed. "whatever."

not a word was spoken outside of ella's babbling in the back seat.

by the time the three of you arrived at the arena, you were hopeful that you could act like nothing happened. you got out of the car, and put the baby carrier on while jason grabbed the diaper bag. you quickly got ella situated in the carrier and put on the lanyard mat gave you, handing jason's to him.

the three of you started walking towards the arena. everything was fine until another fan made a comment when you got inside.

he pointed at you and shouted. "a house divided, eh?"

you furrowed your brows. what the hell was he talking about? you turned and looked at jason who was doing his best to look as confused as you were and failing horribly.

he was wearing a rangers jersey.

to the rangers and isles game.

when you were invited by mat.

you clenched your jaw and kept walking, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone.

by the time you made it inside the box, you were fuming. you wanted so badly to scream at him for being a dick, but another part of you said he was allowed to wear a jersey for a team he liked. after all, that's what you were doing, right?

right?

not that you really had time to think about it because the prettiest woman you think you'd ever seen came bounding over to you with the whitest smile you'd ever seen in real life.

"hi!" she said. "i'm sydney, mat's told us so much about you and miss ella."

you introduced yourself and did your best to smile back, though you're not sure if it was convincing. "this is my boyfriend, jason."

for a moment, just a flicker of a second, the smile on sydney's face faltered. it was so quick you almost second guessed yourself that it ever happened in the first place. "i'm really excited you're here, we love new company." she grabbed you by the arm in a gentle way but with a strong enough grip that you knew you really had no other option. "let me introduce you to everyone!"

after introductions, you found yourself and ella a seat. you pulled her out of the carrier before taking the carrier and your coat off. an action you almost immediately regretted.

"are you fucking serious?" you heard jason say. you turned with ella in your arms to see his normally pale face burning red. "you're wearing his jersey?"

there were no words coming to your mind. the two of you had argued before, but you had never seen him this volatile before.

in a flash, he was in front of you yelling as spit flew from his mouth. you didn't even register what he was saying, how could you when ella was crying? all you remembered was mumbling an apology over and over but that only served to make him angrier.

it wasn't until sydney literally got between you two that he stopped screaming. he looked around to see everyone staring at the two of you and threw his hands up in the air. "you know what?" he said. "fuck you, i'm leaving. you can find another way home."

sydney was in front of you, trying to calm you and ella down but you couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears.

jason was never the nicest boyfriend, but he'd never been that angry before. you'd never been scared of him before.

"here," sydney said. "let's get you some water."

"ella's upset--"

"because she knows you're upset. once you calm down, you can calm her down."

you nodded and let her sit you in a chair and bring you a glass of water. once your hands stopped shaking, you were able to bring ella to your chest and rub her back in the way you knew she liked.

"i'm sorry," you said.

sydney just tilted her head in confusion. "what for?"

"i brought him here, i didn't know he'd act like that--"

"honey, you are not responsible for a grown man's reaction to a stupid jersey." she pulled her chair closer to yours. "so let's just put all of that on the back burner and enjoy the game, okay?"

you nodded and turned your attention back to the rink where the players were warming up. ella yawned and snuggled into your chest when it hit you.

you forgot the pack and play.

"shit."

"honey, i told you it's okay--"

"no," you laughed. "it's just i forgot the pack and play so my boyfriend isn't gonna be the only who's mad at me by the end of tonight."

sydney, despite the implications of your statement, smiled. "she'll live," she said. "mine have definitely missed bedtime before and they're turning out alright. just means tomorrow might be a little difficult."

"thanks, sydney.'

"anytime!"

the two of you turned your attention to the rink where the game was beginning. occasionally, you'd get up and bounce ella around the suite, but for the most part, she was content as long as she was in your arms. by the time the second period was over, the isles were tied with the rangers 1-1.

ella had long since fallen asleep in the carrier with her thumb in her mouth. the tears were long gone by then, both of you having calmed down significantly since the start of the game. though now your heart was racing due to the intensity of the game instead of the screaming of your boyfriend.

despite your anger at him earlier, and the fear you felt before he left, you still found yourself checking your phone periodically for any text or missed call he might've left.

nothing.

you were so focused, you nearly missed mat's one goal of the night but your attention was brought to the game when you heard sydney shout his name.

you smiled as you watched him celebrate his goal, skating around the rink and shouting. you were too high up to see if he smiled the same way he did when he looked at ella, with that same look of pride. maybe you'd come back to another game to see it up close and personal for yourself.

the isles won 2-1.

sydney, ella, and you waited in the suite until the stands had mostly cleared out, then the three of you made your way down to the locker rooms. ella was out like a light, and you couldn't blame her. you were out later than you had been in months.

you and sydney made small talk while you waited for mat and matt. you watched as other players greeted their friends and family, smiling at the hugs and kisses going around.

it wasn't until matt martin came out that the tears started coming back. the way his face lit up at the sight of his wife, the kiss her gave her that was almost too inappropriate for a public place--

you would've given anything to be loved like that.

in the two years you'd dated jason, you couldn't remember him ever looking at you like that, like you were his entire universe.

you cleared your throat and rubbed at your eyes just in time for mat and tito to walk out.

"mama bear!" tito called. he started to jog over but slowed down when he saw ella asleep in the carrier.

mat, however, looked you over. his brows pulled together and his lips turned down in a small frown. it didn't make sense on the face of someone who shot the game winning goal.

but it made sense for an observant friend who noticed the plus one you came with.

"where's jason?" he asked.

"i--"

sydney cut in with a smile on her face as she dragged her husband over. "this is mat's nanny, babe. the one i was telling you about?"

you could've kissed her feet for the change in subject.

"nice to meet you in person, finally. barzy over here talks about you and ella all the time." matt stuck his hand out to shake, ignoring the glares of the other mat.

"well, we gotta get home to the girls," sydney said. "nice to meet you finally. maybe i'll see you at another game, yeah?" you smiled and nodded and watched as the happy couple walked away.

when they were finally out of sight, you turned your attention back to mat and tito, both whom looked a little too good in their suits.

"where's jason?" mat asked for the second time now that you didn't have another person around to interrupt you.

"he left," was all you said.

"he left you here? alone?"

you nodded. "and he took the car seat."

mat nodded and clenched his jaw while tito glanced back and forth between you two. "i'll drive you home. thankfully, he took the bonus car seat and not the one i use."

you mumbled a small thanks and watched dumbly as he scooped the diaper bag off your shoulder and put it on his own. "mat i can carry it just fine--"

"sounds like you've been carrying enough on your own. i got it."

you had no rebuttal, so you followed him and tito out to the garage. tito parted ways when you reached mat's car. he bid you a silent wave and smile as a form of goodbye and headed to his own vehicle.

you didn't speak until mat started the car. not even when the both of you were loading ella carefully into the car seat or putting the diaper bag in the back. you didn't even say anything when he handed you his phone to plug your address in.

it was silent until you mumbled a small "thank you."

"for what?" he asked.

'"for taking me home. for inviting me to the game even when jason..." you trailed off.

"when jason...?" he implored you to go on. you hesitated. "cmon, you've seen me at my worst, scared about this new baby and raising her. you can trust me."

you sighed. "jason kind of lost his mind tonight and made a huge scene. i tried apologizing to sydney but she wouldn't have it. i'm just sorry that we embarrassed you like that."

mat went real quiet for a second. and in the corner of your eye, you saw his fists grip the steering wheel a little tighter. "what did he say?"

"huh?"

"i saw the look on your face when we came out. he said something that upset you. what did he say?"

and how do you say you didn't remember words just feelings? you couldn't remember the insults he hurled your way, but you remembered the sting of his tone and the burn of his spit and the pure rage in his eyes. you could remember shaking like a leaf during fall and the cries of ella muffled by the jersey with her last name on the back and her father's number on the sleeve.

mat called your name. "i don't remember." he didn't look convinced. "i really don't. he said a lot of things but i blocked most of it out," you said thinking that would placate him.

if anything, it made him angrier.

but he didn't say anything, mainly because your apartment was approaching and he didn't have time. mat parked the car out in front of your building and turned his flashers on.

"you need me to walk you up?" he asked.

you shook your head. "you have ella in the back. i'll be fine."

"text me when you get inside."

any other day, you would've argued with him, but you were just glad someone cared enough about your wellbeing to ask, so you nodded and opened the door.

you got into the elevator, hands wringing themselves together. you wondered what you'd tell your roommate natalie, if you'd tell her anything. but considering how much jason liked to make your relationship business natalie's business, she probably already knew and she probably was waiting on the couch ready to chastise you.

the elevator doors opened at your floor. you walked down the hallway towards your front door. you pulled your phone out, ready to text mat when you heard noises coming from inside your apartment.

your first thought was: intruders. but when listening a little harder, it just sounded like moans. you rolled your eyes and carefully and quietly unlocked the door. only to be confronted with clothes strewn about the living area. natalie's shirt, shorts, socks, all leading on a less than ideal trail to her bedroom. you shouldn't be surprised given how active she's been lately. you just never expected it to be this in your face.

you continued into your apartment, two seconds away from texting mat when you saw it.

a rangers jersey.

taglist:

@whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @calermakar @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe

#my writing #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal #nhl blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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runningfrom2am · 4 months ago

Text

requiem // part six

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: omg hi i am finally back with a new part for this series!! kind of a filler but idk i still think it's cute :) enjoy!

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

two years earlier

"So, I'm thinking balloons over the whole ceiling of the foyer, gold and red- thoughts?" Your mother asks as you enter the threshold of your family's lake house.

"You say that like you haven't already ordered everything." You giggle in response, footsteps echoing across the tile as you step off the carpet of the grand entryway.

It was less of a "house" and more of a mansion, in Coriolanus' opinion.

He had been here countless times throughout the years and sporadically would spend the weekends here with you and your parents when you didn't want to be "bored" and "lonely" on the large lakefront property. Poor you, he always thought sarcastically, but would never voice it.

Regardless, he loved getting to come out here with you in the summers and occasionally for a day or two over the holidays when you could skate on the frozen lake. You had taught him how yourself, holding onto his hands at nine years old and skating backward in front of him while he channeled the look of a baby deer taking its first steps. Your little laugh and small words of encouragement were the only thing that kept him upright- most of the time.

But this time, it was summer, and he had been looking forward to this weekend for weeks. Not because he was all that excited about seeing your classmates who he had needed just as much of a break from as his studies, but more so because it was your birthday. Or, close enough to it.

Your sixteenth birthday, more specifically, and your parents were pulling out all the stops. Thus the balloons and your family's staff running around like their lives depended on it to get everything ready for the early afternoon when all the other guests would be arriving to stay for the night and the following morning.

"Okay, well, yes, I did, but I knew you would like it so it's fine." Your mother insists and you look over at Coryo, rolling your eyes behind her back. She was right, you didn't mind the red and gold, but it was no surprise you didn't have any say in the planning of your own birthday party. It was more for your parents than it was for you, anyway. More for the reputation of your family name, although, you didn't doubt that it would be fun.

"Come on." You whisper to your best friend, gently tugging on his shirt to pull him upstairs.

"Mom, we're going upstairs until the others get here!" You call over your shoulder, already running up the staircase.

"Yes, yes, I'll send someone for you when everything's ready. Just shout if you get hungry." She agrees mindlessly, already putting down bags of last-minute snacks you had picked up on the way.

"Thank you!" Coryo adds in as well as you pull him along.

She laughs softly and shakes her head. "Of course, Coriolanus. You kids have fun. Oh, and go ahead and leave your overnight stuff just in the sitting room upstairs!"

When your other classmates who were able to make the hour-long trip finally all made it out to the beach house, it quickly became bustling with life. The large floor-to-roof windows that spanned both stories of the home were pulled open completely, opening it out to the porch, the pool, and the lakefront. The music was loud, and your parents had set up every screen and projector on the property, inside and out, playing home videos of you when you were growing up. Most featured your performances, and you loved those, but your favourites were of you and your friends.

Coriolanus was a star in your home videos, undeniably. Some of the girls from your class were sitting on the back porch with virgin cocktails your parents' staff had made, pointing out themselves in clips from school events and previous birthday parties and laughing at their younger selves.

Laying on the dock next to Coryo and Clemmie, you were laughing at the boys at the other end of the dock trying to shove each other off when your father's boat pulled back up next to you and he cut the engine.

"You want to go next, bird?" He calls to you as Festus and Pup stumble out of the boat, drenched from head to toe and dripping all over you and your towels.

You look over at Coryo, smiling hopefully at him and he nods, getting up quickly while you make the same effort to get Clemmie to come with you. "Clemmie, come on. The tube fits three people well enough." You tell her as you get up, pulling at your bathing suit to make sure it is still fitting right.

"No, no. I'm good. My parents say that's a death trap, and I believe it." She chuckles, waving her hand dismissively. "I'll be here. You two have fun."

"Suit yourself." You shrug, taking your father's hand as he helps you onto the boat, and Sejanus Plinth, who was already onboard and apparently decided to just stay, hands you a life jacket which you quietly thank him for.

"Clemensia, it's perfectly safe. I'll even go slow for you." Your father offers her as you zip yours up, watching Coryo do the same. Weirdly enough, you can't help but notice it looks good on him. Just about anything does, though.

"No thank you, I'm just fine right here. I'm not the best swimmer as it is." Your friend replies gratefully. "I prefer land."

"Alright, then, but we'll be doing trips all afternoon if you change your mind." He tells her, going back to the helm of the small speed boat reserved specifically for your tubing and wakeboarding and starting the engine up again.

The boat starts moving and you go over to the ship's radio, clicking it on again and turning it up to hear the music better over the sounds of rushing water as he takes you out deeper on the lake.

Once you're satisfied with the volume and the song, you climb up to the front of the boat to sit next to the two boys who are waiting. You weren't sure what they were talking about, making small talk most likely, knowing the both of them, but regardless it stopped when you sat down.

You enjoy the music and the spray of fresh water on your skin for a couple of minutes until you're far enough from the shores to stop.

You and Coryo both get up with a fair bit of excitement, having always loved going tubing with your father behind the wheel of the boat every summer.

"Sejanus, are you coming?" You ask hopefully as you and your friend throw the large inflatable off the back of the boat and into the water, pulling the rope back so it's close enough to climb on.

He looks to your father, who nods encouragingly at him. He'd been on the boat for almost all of the afternoon but hadn't once actually got on the tube. It wasn't much of a secret that he wasn't very well-liked by other kids, but his parents had insisted that he attend your birthday, so he just decided to stay close to one of your parents.

"Um, okay. Sure." He replies quietly with a nervous nod.

Out of all of your classmates, he was the most comfortable with the two of you- being among some of the only kids who hadn't been mean to him in the past.

"Hold on tight." Your father tells him as you and Coryo get situated, laying on your stomachs next to each other and holding onto the handles by your heads and leaving enough room for Sejanus on your other side. "These two are professionals, I don't hold back like with the other kids." He says teasingly, giving you a knowing look.

He climbs on next to you while you hold onto the back of the boat for him, trying to keep it as steady as possible.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be fun." You say to him when you hear the motor start up again and you give your dad a thumbs up to start going.

"It does look like fun." Sejanus agrees quietly, and you can hardly hear him over the waves as the boat moves slowly away from you and the rope starts to unravel.

You turn to look at Coryo again, giving him a smile. "Here, let's switch handles." You suggest, letting go of one of yours and nudging his hand away from his to trade so your arms would overlap on the somewhat rough material that was known to give you both rug burns in the past. "That way we can keep each other on."

He nods, chuckling to himself as he complies, looping his hand under your handle and gripping on tight. "Yeah, we can definitely try."

You knew it wouldn't make much of a difference, but you liked the way his arm felt over yours; warm from the heat of the sun but somehow chilling you down to your bones.

The tube jerks to the right to catch up with the rope as your father's boat gets far enough away and begins to pull you, and you can feel Sejanus tense up beside you as you start to pick up speed.

"You gotta relax!" You call out to him over the rushing water, and he just looks at you with wide eyes as you continue straight for the time being. "Lean into it and you'll stay on easier!"

Sejanus didn't really listen. That much is clear when within a matter of minutes, hitting a corner and bouncing over the waves created by the boat, he tumbles right off the side.

You glance back over your shoulder to see that he's okay, but with the speed you're already moving and the turn your father makes to go back for him, that was a clear mistake.

You weren't paying attention when you hit the corner hard, swinging out behind the boat with the now uneven weight distribution, and before you know it the tube is flipping completely and rolling fast over the surface of the water.

Coryo hears you scream as you suddenly disappear from his side, which only makes it flip faster. He somehow holds on, but not without a blinding pain in his hand and up his arm as it gets caught in the handle that wasn't his, and then he's quickly surrounded by the blue of the lake as well.

You're giggling when your father circles back to you after helping Sejanus out of the water, and you can still see Coryo a ways away. You never realized how fast you were going until you both got thrown off, and you were usually very far away in the water.

Climbing up onto the boat and dripping wet, you pull the tube back up to the boat and hold on to the rope while your father steers you over to your friend, his blonde curls soaked and clinging to his forehead, almost completely covering his eyes.

"Coryo!" You call out as you get closer, laughing through your words. You get closer to the back ladder, prepared to help pull him out. He doesn't respond, though he's looking at you, and you realize quickly that he's ghostly pale- more so than usual, and he's clutching his hand to his chest. "Hey, you okay?" You ask, your smile fading quickly as you lean over the edge to reach for him.

He nods stiffly, and when he reaches out to take your hand, you notice that he's trembling.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?" You ask, and you quickly hear your father's steps behind you.

"I- um..." You can tell as you try and help him up that he's embarrassed to admit that something's wrong- though he doesn't need to be.

"Dad?" You begin to ask for help, worry seeping into your tone, but he's already there. He gently nudges you out of the way and reaches into the water to pull Coryo out, which, is decently easy for him to do. He was always a skinny kid, and right now you were grateful for that.

"You okay, son? Let me see that." Your father says once Coryo gets his footing, still holding his hand close to his chest.

"You hurt your hand?" You ask when he doesn't move, just staring between you and your father with shock plastered all over his face.

He nods slightly, teeth chattering, and you hear that Sejanus must have turned down the music.

Your father gestures for him to show him his injured hand again, holding his own to take at it and look. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to take a look."

Coryo looks at you for a split second before looking away again, carefully holding his hand out for your father to look at.

Your father decided after that that maybe that wasn't the best activity to take other people's kids on while they were under his supervision. Secretly, it's a relief that Coryo was the one who got injured from it- he was closer with your family than anyone else, and there likely wouldn't be someone showing up at your door within the week to press charges over a broken thumb. You were still worried, though.

You made quick work upon returning to dry land of hurrying upstairs to your room with him, arm wrapped around his waist as your father tied up the boat. It was only his hand that was injured, but you had never in your life seen someone so pale- Coryo looked like he could collapse at any minute.

"Someone's grabbing ice for it, just sit down on the bed and I'll get you some water." You say as you guide him to sit on your bed that sat against the corner of the large room, only mildly aware of the shake in your voice and the panic you were quickly descending into.

"I-I'm okay, it's really not that big of a deal..." Coryo mutters and you shake your head, about to leave when your mother walks in in a hurry.

"I brought some ice, darling." She says as she brushes past you to sit next to him and you stand clear out of the way. You needed to give her the space to be a mother and help- you knew that much.

You look around for Coryo's overnight bag while she helps hold the ice pack wrapped in a dish towel to his hand, but you can't find it anywhere. "Mom, we left Coryo's stuff in here this morning, did any of the staff touch it?" You ask, hoping to find him a shirt to cover his shivering skin. The shock, the air conditioning of the house while still dripping wet, and the ice pack were not a friendly combination.

"Oh, I had it moved to the sitting room." She points to the door and your brow furrows slightly.

All your friends who were spending the night were sleeping in the sitting room, and there were beds and a projector screen set up in there with snacks for movies and everything, but you and Coryo were supposed to stay in here when it was time to actually go to sleep. "What? Why? We're sleeping in here."

Your mother shrugs. "I don't know, honey, I just feel that it's time that you both have some of your own space."

What she means is 'I don't think it's appropriate for the two of you to share a bed anymore.'

You and Coryo look at each other, only briefly, and it's only safe to assume that you're both feeling the same thing.

You had never been in less of a rush to grow up, and to be forced to grow apart.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

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punkshort · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, death, blood, language, alcohol, sexual tension etc :)

A/N: I needed to give these poor characters a break lol

Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

April 2004

Spring was in the air and the days were getting warmer, which meant you both needed new clothes. You rifled through the closet of the house two doors down, tossing clothes that were both your sizes onto the bed behind you. Whoever lived in the house you were currently staying in was much larger than you and Joel, so you made rags from their clothes, and you ended up searching inside the house down the street.

In the past two months, neither of you had seen an infected or a living person unless you left the area to explore the nearby town. You were beginning to feel like the two of you were living in a little bubble, completely cut off and alone, and it was wonderful. You let yourselves relax, laughing and joking, and you felt comfortable going out by yourself to explore the neighborhood. The houses were practically untouched and stocked with all kinds of food that you could use, and Joel felt confident about starting a fire in the seclusion of the forest. You would make dinner together at night, and afterwards you would play cards, read, or do crosswords in front of the fireplace. It was overwhelmingly domestic and peaceful.

Joel had originally said he wanted to stay there until you were healed and the weather warmed up, but it's been a couple weeks of spring and he hadn't suggested leaving yet. You didn't bring it up because it was as close to normal as you thought you would ever feel again, and you were scared to let it go.

Almost every morning, you woke up with Joel's arms wrapped around you. You were both so used to it by now that it no longer felt forbidden, but it was expected. There hadn’t been another charged moment like that morning in your childhood bedroom, but there had been a few moments here and there that caused your mind to wander. Like when you would make dinner together in the kitchen and Joel would slip by you, gently placing his hands on your hips as he brushed past while you prepared food, or when you sat together reading in front of the fireplace and he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his long fingers grazing your shoulder.

You became an expert at avoiding your feelings for him, so you never acted on those moments. Instead, you distracted yourself with the new world around you. Joel would spend much of his time during the day hunting in the forest and gathering wood for the fire, and you would explore each house on the street, first for supplies, and then for entertainment. You had found a romance novel tucked into the bedside table of the house you were currently rummaging through, deciding at the last minute to bring it back with you for something to read.

You tucked the book in the back of your pants and grunted as you lifted the pile of clothes off the bed. Your wounds had healed pretty well, but you were still a little stiff and you had a few nasty pink scars along your ribs to show for it. You wandered down the street, barely able to see over the clothes, as you made your way back to your white house with blue shutters. Joel had been resting in a rocking chair on the front porch, waiting for your return, when he saw you struggling with the clothes. He jogged down the stairs to meet you halfway and grabbed some from your arms.

“Thanks,” you said, readjusting the clothes as you made your way to the house. “When did you get back?”

“’Bout ten minutes ago. I got lucky early and got us a small doe, probably just a yearling. I got it in the garage, I’ll skin it later.”

“That’s great, we haven’t had venison in a long time,” you said, climbing the stairs up to the front porch. You dropped the clothes unceremoniously on the couch in the living room, deciding to tackle the sorting later.

“What’s this?” Joel asked, yanking the book from the back of your jeans. He glanced at the cover, his eyes widening, and he shot you a teasing smirk. You huffed and tried to tug the book from his hand, but he was too quick, dangling it above your head and then turning around so he could thumb through the pages. He stopped on a page and skimmed a quick paragraph, giving a low whistle. You wrapped your arm around him trying to grab the book, but he anticipated it and twisted away, taking a few steps backwards as he continued to read.

“This is dirty!” he teased, and you felt your face flush.

“I didn’t know what it was, I just grabbed it for something to read!” you lied, lunging forward again but he held his arm out and tucked the book behind his back. You grumbled irritably, your hands on your hips as you glared at him. He tsked at you and waved his finger back and forth.

“Liar,” he said, grinning as you felt another wave of heat roll over your skin. “You’re blushing, you knew what this was.”

You had enough of him embarrassing you now, so you decided two could play that game.

“Fine, maybe I did,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “A girl’s got needs, you know.”

You smirked as you watched his teasing grin fade instantly from his face. His gaze darkened as he regarded you for a moment. You stood your ground, hands still on your hips and looking at him defiantly but you could feel your fast heartbeat and the butterflies in your stomach betraying you. He took a step towards you, then another. You played it cool, refusing to break eye contact and let him win, but you couldn’t stop from swallowing nervously. You tilted your head back to continue to meet his gaze once he came to a stop right in front of you. Now that you were up close, you noticed there was a slight pink flush dusting his cheeks. His lips were parted, and you swore he was breathing faster than normal.

“Is that right?” he murmured to you now, his voice unmistakably heavy with desire. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything without it coming out three octaves higher than normal, so instead you slowly nodded your head.

You must have parted your lips without knowing it because he finally broke eye contact to look down at them hungrily. You shifted your weight slightly as you felt your arousal pooling in your underwear. You dropped your arms to your sides and rose to your tip toes, slowly leaning up towards his face. He could smell the soap you used this morning and felt your exhale tickling his neck as you rose higher. He was practically in a trance as his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned down a fraction, eagerly awaiting the feel of your mouth on his.

Once his eyes shut, you swung your arm out and snatched the book from his hand, jumping back and holding it in front of you triumphantly. His eyes snapped open and he held back a groan, the look of disappointment evident on his face.

"That wasn't very nice," he said. His whole body was on fire, and he prayed you didn't notice the growing erection through his jeans.

"Aww," you gave him a teasing frown and pout, tapping the book on his shoulder as you passed him, "don't worry, I'll let you borrow this when I'm done."

After dinner, you and Joel settled into the living room like you always did, today choosing to play cards in front of the fireplace. You were closely examining your hand and struggling to remember the rules of poker Joel had taught you last week. Joel watched you as your brows furrowed and you shuffled the cards around.

"Hey," he said softly, placing his cards facedown and putting his hand out to push yours down as well. You looked up at him curiously, dropping your hands to your lap and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "Can we talk about somethin'?"

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the softness behind his eyes and heard the tone of his voice. This is it, we're finally going to talk about it.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I've wanted to talk to you about this for a while, but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it," he began, and your heart started thudding in your chest. "Just know that we can do whatever you're comfortable with," he continued, your eyes widening. Holy shit. He took a deep breath and leaned forward on the table, inches away from your face. You thought you were going to pass out from how fast your pulse was racing. "What do you think about gettin' a CB radio?"

You froze, not sure you heard him correctly.

"What?" you asked, your voice cracking.

"A CB radio," he repeated, leaning back in his chair again. "I bet either the fire department or the police station in town's got one. Figure we can listen in on one, maybe there's other survivors, communities... maybe we can even find Tommy."

"Oh!" You said, shaking your head to clear your mind from the wrong direction your thoughts had gone. "Yeah, sure, let's do that."

"I know you really like it here, and I do too," he said, picking his cards back up, "but it's not safe to stay here forever. We gotta have a plan. People'll eventually find us here. Call." He pushed a red button you were using as poker chips into the center of the table.

You nodded and bit your lip, looking back at your cards. You let out a shaky breath, your adrenaline still rushing through your veins.

"You alright?" Joel asked you innocently, noticing you were jittery.

"Yep, I'm fine," you said, sounding clearer now. "I fold." You tossed your cards face up on the table and leaned back as Joel swept the pile of buttons into his hand.

You yawned and stretched your arms above your head. "I think I'm gonna go get ready for bed." You stood and picked up your flashlight to make your way upstairs.

"Did ya think I was talkin' about somethin' else?" He asked lowly, right as your foot hit the first step. You whipped your head around to find him smirking with his arms crossed in his chair. Your jaw dropped and he winked as your cheeks began to feel hot.

"That wasn't very nice," you repeated his words back to him before ascending the stairs to bed.

New Virginia, Iowa was a very small town that consisted of a few churches, a library, a handful of restaurants and a post office. The whole town appeared deserted except for a few infected, most of which the pair of you took care of when you first explored the town back in March. Joel had trouble trying to break into the front door of the police station, so you tried your luck with another entrance attached to the small parking garage. You shifted your backpack on your shoulders as you waited for him to jimmy open the lock. Whenever you left the safety of your house you always made sure to pack both your bags with all your necessities. Even though the past couple months have been quiet and relaxing, you refused to let yourselves be caught off guard. You brought your supplies and weapons with you whenever you left the neighborhood, never knowing for sure if you would have to make a run for it one day.

You glanced around the parking garage once again before hearing the telltale click of the lock breaking.

"Shit," Joel whispered harshly. You turned back to look at him and saw blood dripping down his palm. You dropped your pack to the floor and rummaged around for a handful of rags, pressing one into his hand before digging for some rubbing alcohol. You both sat down on the floor, his hand held out to you while you gently cleaned his cut, first with some water, then with the alcohol. He hissed at the sting and clenched his eyes shut while you pressed a clean rag against the cut and squeezed his other hand comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, removing the rag to assess the damage. He opened his eyes and watched as you tended so delicately to his injury. He stared adoringly at your face while you were distracted, taking in the way you bit down on your lower lip in concentration, the loose strands of hair that dangled in front of your eyes, the little frown your brows made. He had been so distracted that he didn't even notice you were done patching him up. You looked up at him and smiled.

"Good as new. Well, I think, anyway. Cut doesn't look that deep, I don't think you need stitches." He looked down and saw you had expertly wrapped his hand tightly with a couple of rags. He flexed his fingers as he tested his mobility.

"Thanks," he said, standing back up and looking back down on the floor at his broken hunting knife. He sighed. "I really liked that knife."

"We can find you a new one," you said, pushing the door open a crack to listen inside. You pushed it open all the way and scanned your flashlights over the room. As expected, it was empty. You both walked past a few desks towards the back of the room, opening up each door until you found a gun locker. You were about to offer to work on the lock instead but Joel walked up and the door swung right open. He turned back to you with his eyebrows raised and shrugged.

“Small town, I guess,” he said, looting around for more ammo and then pulled out a handgun. He checked that it was loaded and handed it to you, remembering yours was stolen from your house after you left it with Tim and Lucy. You double checked the safety was on and shoved it in the back of your jeans, pulling your light jacket over the top. Joel couldn’t find any knives, but he did find two retractable police batons. You tested it out with a flick of your wrist, the baton extending instantly in your hand, then collapsed it so it would fit in your jacket pocket.

You left the armory and went to explore the police chief’s office where Joel found a CB radio on top of a filing cabinet next to the desk. He flipped it around to examine it, then picked up the transceiver and microphone, shoving it into his pack.

“Maybe we can find a car battery in the parking ramp before we go home, get this thing workin’," Joel said, but all you heard was the word home. You grinned like an idiot once his back was to you, leading you out of the police station.

Joel pried open the hoods on the cars remaining in the parking ramp, trying to find a battery that still had power and was in good condition. You yawned and meandered around the corner, looking for something to occupy yourself while he worked. You saw a car with the passenger door open and what looked like duffel bags inside. You glanced at Joel over your shoulder, his head buried under the hood of a red sedan.

“I’m gonna go take a look at this car down here, see if there’s anything we can use,” you said. He turned around and looked at the car you had pointed out. He nodded before saying, “Be careful.”

He was muttering to himself as he unhooked yet another dead battery when he felt the cold metal barrel of a pistol press against the back of his head.

“Don’t say a word, or we kill the girl,” a deep voice said quietly behind him. We. He froze and swung his eyes around frantically, trying to think of anything he could do to get the upper hand. He glanced down at the revolver on his hip, but the man behind him already saw it. “Two fingers. Pick it up slowly, and hand it over. Slow.”

Joel did as he was told, his heart slamming against his ribs as he listened for any indication that you were hurt.

“Stand up, turn around, hands in the air,” the man said, and again, Joel obeyed. He was faced with two men, one of which was now sheathing his knife in favor of Joel’s revolver. He looked behind them, trying to spot you by the car you said you were looking through, but you weren’t there. He began to panic, and his vision narrowed.

“Take whatever you want, just don’t hurt her,” he said gruffly to the men, but his eyes gave away how fearful he was. They chuckled, slinging Joel’s backpack over their shoulder along with the rifle he had set down next to it. “Please,” he tried again, begging.

“Don’t worry,” sneered the man holding his revolver. “We got a friend taking real good care of her.”

Before Joel’s mind could even process the implication, he heard a man’s wild, high-pitched scream coming from the other end of the parking ramp, around a corner none of you could see beyond. The two men exchanged nervous glances, then one single gunshot rang out, echoing over the concrete walls. The men stared at the corner of the garage, guns still aimed on Joel, waiting to see who had pulled the trigger.

Joel tried to control his panicked breaths until he saw you round the corner with a look of anger and determination on your face. In one hand was your handgun, and the other was reaching into your jacket pocket, flicking open the police baton. Your eyes were glued to the two men threatening Joel, your jaw clenched, and nostrils flared as you suddenly picked up your pace and made a beeline towards the one holding Joel’s revolver.

Joel could tell you had surprised them with your bold plan of attack, so he took advantage of it and lunged forward, tackling the man who originally held a gun to his head. He knocked the gun out of his hand, and it skidded under a parked car. Joel began mercilessly beating the man’s face with his fist, watching as he broke his nose and then his jaw, only stopping when he noticed his own blood began to flow from his knuckles and the injury on his palm. As he stood up, he pulled the knife from his boot. The man’s eyes shifted towards the knife and then back at Joel with a wild look in his eye.

“No! No, no, no, please, I’ll –“ before he could finish, Joel rammed the knife into the man’s chest with a grunt. He made sure he was dead before pulling the knife out and stumbled in your direction, but as it turned out, you didn’t need any help. You had the other man on the floor with your foot on his chest as you removed your own switchblade from the side of his neck.

You turned around, gasping for breath from the exertion, and wiped the blood from your face with the sleeve of your jacket. Joel strode right up to you and yanked you into a tight hug, pressing the side of your head against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart was beating as you wrapped your arms around his waist and closed your eyes. He finally allowed you to pull back, but he held your face in both his hands, looking you up and down for any injuries.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you told him, covering his hands with your own and gently tugging them downward. You folded the switchblade and baton back up and put them away before leaning over and picking up Joel’s revolver, along with the dead man's knife. “Told you we'd get you a new one,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as you could tell Joel was still shaken from the fight. He let out a small chuckle before picking up his belongings.

“What the hell did ya do to that guy to make him scream like that?”

“I stabbed him in the balls,” you said, glancing sideways at him and catching the wince on his face.

“Fuck the battery, let’s go home,” he told you, wrapping an arm around you for one more half hug before heading back out the way you came.

Once you got back to the house, you each took a turn washing the blood and grime off your bodies before preparing some venison to eat for dinner. You had made a packet of instant mashed potatoes and you shared a can of green beans as you settled on the couch to eat. Halfway through the meal, Joel's eyes lit up and he turned towards you.

"Wait here, I forgot I found somethin', I'll be right back," and he headed out to the attached garage to bring back two bottles of white wine. You gasped, grabbing them from his hands to look at the labels in the light of the fire.

"When did you find these?" you asked, still in shock.

"Couple days ago in the basement of the green house. I was settin' them aside for a special occasion, and seein' as you kicked so much ass earlier, I figured today is that day," he said, heading into the kitchen to find a corkscrew and glasses.

"Well, I don't know if I kicked ‘so much’ ass, I think I kicked an average amount of ass," you giggled, sitting back down to finish your meal as he poured you each a glass. You tried to ignore how casually you spoke about killing other people as you gratefully took a glass from his hand, taking your first sip and letting a moan escape your lips. Joel smiled and went back to finishing his dinner, trying to ignore the sound you made.

Your plates long discarded and on your second glasses of wine, you insisted on properly bandaging the cut on his palm, now that the bath he took had washed away all the dried blood. You tipped his hand towards the light of the flames as you diligently sanitized the cut again before sticking a big, rectangular bandaid over it.

"Maybe you should take some antibiotics," you said, gently running a finger down the bandage. "That parking ramp was filthy." He shrugged as he watched you lazily tracing his cut through the bandage.

"Yeah, maybe, I'll take one tomorrow," he mumbled. He could tell his alcohol tolerance was next to nothing after all these months because the wine was going right to his head. You flipped his hand over and ran your fingers gently along his damaged knuckles. His breath hitched at the contact, and he took another sip of wine to hide it. Maybe the wine was going to your head, too.

You dragged your gaze up from his hand to his exposed forearms, remembering how fixated you were on them just a year ago. You bit your lip and reached for your glass, in the process dropping his hand to rest on your knee. You almost gasped, then had to stifle a laugh at how absurd it was to have such a reaction to a simple touch on your knee. You took another sip of wine and blamed the fact you hadn't had sex in nearly a year as the reason. The time you had sex with Justin wasn't exactly fulfilling, so it hardly counted. You stole a glance in Joel's direction as he stared at the open fireplace and sipped his wine. You thought back again to that night at the bar when Joel asked you to go home with him. You could kick yourself now for not doing it. You knew he was still attracted to you by the way you saw his pants tighten yesterday when you teased him with the book, and months ago back in your bedroom when you had almost kissed. That day, you were ready to take things further with him, even with the understanding that all he was willing to offer you was the physical part of a relationship.

"Why are you lookin' at me like that?" he asked you without taking his eyes off the fire.

"Like what?" you replied lowly.

"You know what," he said, turning to you now. His beautiful brown eyes were a shade darker as he looked at you, his fingers curling around your knee, this time pulling a gasp from you.

You decided to go for it. You put your glass down and slid over to sit a little closer to him as he eyed you warily. You trailed your fingertip along the back of his hand again, admiring how long and thick his fingers were before dragging a line up his forearm and wrapped your hand around it gently.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked huskily, staring down as your thumb rubbed his arm.

"Mhmm," he murmured, entranced by the contact.

"When we first met, I couldn't stop thinking about your arms. Every time I saw you... I was just so distracted," you flicked your eyes up to his face and watched as he held his breath at your words. He finally found his voice and brought his eyes up to look at you.

"That wasn't exactly a secret," he whispered, "even Tommy noticed that."

You hummed, refusing to let any embarrassment throw you off. You watched as he took another sip of wine and tried a different tactic.

"Do you remember the last time I had wine like this?" you asked, raising your eyebrow. You saw his Adam's apple stopped bobbing mid swallow. That did the trick.

"Yes," he said roughly, looking straight ahead at the fire again, his grip on your knee tightening as you slowed the circles your thumb was making on his arm.

"That was a fun night," you said, willing him to look at you again.

"Followed by a not so fun day," Joel replied, trying to throw some cold water on the conversation. You sighed, growing frustrated as he put his glass down on the coffee table.

"Right, the outbreak," you muttered, your hand releasing his arm.

"No," he said, finally turning towards you. "Because that's the day I fucked everything up." His eyes burned into yours, desperately trying to say the words.

"You didn't fuck everything up," you told him, scooting even closer to him on the couch. You leaned forward and put a hand on his knee for balance, then placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped his other hand around your wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked, fighting the urge to give in.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" you said back, planting another small kiss in the same place. His grip on your wrist loosened and he swallowed hard.

"Please," he croaked out, his expression pained when you leaned back to look at him. "Don't do this again. I don't think I can take it."

You frowned, confused. Maybe he didn't realize you now understood what he wanted. You reached out a hand to rest on the back of his neck.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," you murmured to him, licking your lips. "I get it now."

Now Joel was the one to frown and pulled his head back a fraction to discourage your kiss.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, unable to hide his heartache as he searched your eyes for an answer. Maybe the wine was getting to you more than he thought. You paused, genuinely perplexed now.

"Isn't that what you want?" you asked him, your brows knit.

"What are you talkin' about?" he questioned louder now, turning his whole body to face you, your hands dropping to your lap as he removed his hand from your knee.

"The day we fought in your office, the day I quit, your birthday!" you said, your voice getting louder with each word.

"What does that have to do with this?" Joel asked, his voice filled with despair. What the hell were you talking about?

"You got mad at me for not sleeping with you!" you all but shouted now, getting angry you had to spell it out for him. "I didn't want to just have sex back then, but I'm trying to tell you now that I'm fucking fine with that, if that's all you want!"

You stared at each other for a minute, both panting slightly as you got increasingly agitated. Joel shook his head and rubbed his hands up and down his face. Then he suddenly stopped and his hands grasped your shoulders, bringing you an inch closer.

"Do you got any idea what you do to me?!" he exclaimed, almost shaking you. You could hear the pain in his voice as it cracked. "'Course that's not all I want. I want everything! I want you!"

Your breath caught in your throat at his admission, completely stunned. You shook your head now, finally asking him the question that weighed on your mind for months.

"Then why did you call me a whore?" you asked, softly now, your voice laced with sadness. He slowly dropped his hands from your shoulders, casting his eyes downward in shame. His eyebrows furrowed as he brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing before dropping his hand to his lap and looking back up at you.

"I..." he began, chewing on his lip and casting his gaze around the room to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I saw you that day, before you came up to my office," he said, looking back at you now, your lips parting as you tried to think back. He could see the confusion in your face. "I had no right to feel, to think, you were mine," he added, "but when I saw you flirtin' with him, I just lost it."

You frowned and pursed your lips, still not making the connection.

"Flirting with who?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

"That guy in your department, the one that was at the bar that night!" He said, throwing his hands in the air. "I saw you dancin' with him in the goddamn copy room. It's my own fault, I knew we weren't anythin', but I guess I'd hoped... and that fuckin' copy room... it just set me off," he said, looking deep into your eyes before finally saying, "I'm so sorry."

You remembered now. He had seen you dancing with Kyle in the copy room. Kyle. You shouldn't have found it funny, but the wine coupled with how ridiculous your fight seemed now made you giggle, which then escalated to full blown laughter as your covered your mouth, turning your face away from Joel's intense stare. He raised an eyebrow at you, still not finding it funny. You saw he was patiently waiting for you to explain, so you wiped a stray tear away from the corner of your eye and composed yourself.

"Joel... Kyle was gay," you said, still trying to hide your smirk. You watched his face as he absorbed the words, his pained expression slowly softening and his eyebrows relaxing.

"I'm so fuckin' stupid," he whispered, his bandaged hand reaching out to grasp the back of your neck and pulled you into him, his lips locking onto yours. You whimpered as you brought your hands up to rake through his hair, his other hand coming to rest on your hip before sliding down your leg. He leaned forward to push you backwards onto the couch. Hovering above you, he hooked your leg around his waist and rested his hand back on your hip, licking at your bottom lip. You eagerly opened your mouth at his request, deepening the kiss as you ran your tongue alongside his own, tasting the remnants of the wine between you. You moaned into his mouth, removing one hand from his hair and wrapping it around his back, trying to bring him closer. You were desperate to taste and feel him everywhere, a year of yearning for him finally coming to a head.

Joel could hardly see straight from the adrenaline coursing through his body. Every nerve ending felt alive. He thought he ruined his chance of ever being with you. He had resigned himself to a life where he was content with just being near you and occasionally got to hold you at night. His emotions were so overwhelming that his movements were becoming chaotic, his hand briefly sliding from your hip to cup your ass, then back to your hip. His other hand moved from the back of your neck to hold your jaw in place as he broke contact from your mouth for a moment, just to flip his head in the other direction before sliding his tongue back inside your mouth.

You arched your back off the couch to press your body against him. You tugged at the back of his t-shirt and wrapped your other leg around his waist, pulling him all the way down so he was laying on top of you. You lifted your hips up to grind against the erection straining against his jeans, eliciting a groan from Joel, when you felt something sharp digging into your thigh. You let go of his shirt and brought your hand around to his chest, pushing him up and breaking the kiss. You had to tug gently on his hair to keep him from latching his mouth onto your neck.

“Wait,” you gasped. He removed his hand from your hip and pushed his fist into the couch cushion, holding himself above you. “What is that?” you asked, flicking your eyes downward. He paused, confused, as he looked down at his cock rubbing against your inner thigh through his jeans, then back up to you.

“Not that,” you said, removing your hand from his hair and swatting playfully at his shoulder before reaching down to his pocket. “This.”

“Oh,” his face broke out into a warm smile now as he removed his hand from your jaw and dug into his pocket, pulling out the Texas shaped keychain. He dangled it between you, still smiling as he watched the realization hit you. Your jaw dropped as you stared at it and then gently reached out to take it from him, turning it over in your hands before looking back up at him. You couldn’t help it. Tears sprung to your eyes as you swallowed roughly, biting your lower lip. He pressed his wounded palm back against your jaw, using his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth and then wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, running his thumb across your cheek again. “Please forgive me.” You choked back a sob at the pet name he refrained from calling you for so long. The last time you heard it, it was said with such cruelty and disdain, and to hear it now, said with so much love and adoration, nearly broke you. You could only nod your head enthusiastically, not trusting yourself to speak as you looped the keyring around your finger and pulled him back down to you.

This time, the intensity behind your kiss escalated. You gently raked your fingernails through his hair and then up and down his back, your tongues swirling together, quiet moans leaving your mouth and being swallowed up by his as you ground your hips up into him, begging him to take things further. He broke your kiss to allow you to get some air, but he continued, leaving gentle kisses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe, then traveling down your neck, occasionally giving your skin a warm lick if he felt he had left a mark with his teeth. You reached down with the keychain still looped around your finger, and fumbled hastily with his belt buckle. He stopped his assault on your neck and pulled back, taking his hand from your face to stop yours from undoing his belt. You frowned as you laid underneath him, gasping for breath.

“Not tonight,” he panted, drawing a whine from you. “We’ve been drinking,” he continued, bringing your hand away from his belt to rest above your head, where he pressed your wrist into the arm of the couch. “I wanna take my time,” he leaned forward, gently pressing his mouth against your swollen lips before pulling back, “and remember,” giving you another languid kiss, “every,” he pressed his lips against your cheek, “single,” kissing the tip of your nose, “sound you make for me,” he finished, massaging his lips tenderly against yours again.

You groaned against his mouth and you felt his lips tug into a smile.

"It'll be worth it, I promise," he whispered against your lips, his grip tightening against your wrist as you squirmed under him. He tugged on your wrist as he rolled off of you and onto his back, pulling you onto your side and under his arm. You rested your cheek against his chest and drew lazy patterns on his stomach, while he absentmindedly dragged his thumb over your upper back and stared into the fire. You slid the keychain off your finger and tucked it back into his jeans pocket with a smile. You couldn't believe he had it, after all this time, and never said a word.

"Why don't we go up to bed?" he mumbled as his eyes slid shut. You nodded and nuzzled your face into his chest.

"In a minute," you told him, your eyes closing. He hummed in response before his thumb slowed its movement on your back and you heard him softly snoring. It wasn't long until you had also drifted off, your arms wrapped around each other.

Chapter Fourteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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faust-the-enjoyer · 5 months ago

Text

Bumper Cars

Tags/CWs: gn!kid!reader, reader is in their mid teens, dad!simon, familial, use of terms of endearment, mentions of Simon's deceased nephew, fluff.

A/n: Dad!simon ❤. my inbox/requests are open! Especially for familial requests!

Divider by: @/saradika-graphics

Tags: @identity2212 (I remember you saying on one of my posts to tag you in dad!simon fics, so!)

You pulled his hand as you walked through the amusement park, looking over the rides you haven't tried yet. Simon decided to take you somewhere nice during your school break, wanted you to have some fun while you had free time, so you dragged him along, so that he could have fun too. "Which one do you wanna go on, petal? It'll be the last one, it's getting late, yeah?". You pay him no mind, you already know which one you want to go on. As you make your way to the bumper cars and stand near them, you see that each car has two seats, and it's mostly empty by now.

You turn to Simon and yank his hand a little, "Look! It has two seats...please?", he raises one of his eyebrows, "Please what? Don't expect me to get in with you, petal, I don't think I can even fit in there...". If there's one thing you learned from the time you were in his care, it's that if you beg hard enough, he'll agree, so you turn to him, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could do, "Please...please...it's the last ride, then we can really go home, I promise!". He sighs quietly, and you know he's gonna do it whether he likes it or not, for you. "Fine.", you pull his hand as you walk into the now still ride, the operator letting you both in, albeit her eyes widening when Simon got in after you did, the man's a unit.

As you sat in one of the cars, Simon sat next to you, he surprisingly fit in the small car. You saw other parents with their kids too, though there were only a few your age that got in, with what looked like their parent or older sibling. You two buckle your seatbelts, and wait for when all is still so you can start moving the car, you look up at Simon and smile mischievously, he knows that glint in your eyes very well, and he chuckles as he looks away from you, looking at the other parents and kids. Before he knew it, the car's moving, and you're spinning the steering wheel around and bumping into other kids, almost every child's laughter filling the area, filling their parents' ears.

"Jesus!", Simon kept a steady hand on your shoulder as you drove around, that is, until he started remembering something. He used to take his little nephew out to amusement parks as well, one of the few rides he really loved were the spinning teacups and a kiddie rollercoaster that looked like a train. He missed those days, but your laughter brought him back to reality, your hands quickly spinning the wheel as you and another kid who looks about your age compete to see who bumps more cars than who. He looks down at you, seeing you smile so joyfully, he'd move heaven and earth just to see you this happy.

The time flew, and the ride's time was over by the time he looked at the other kids and their parents, all slowly leaving their little cars, and as he turned to you, he saw you unbuckling your seatbelt. He chuckled and started unbuckling his own seatbelt, "Had your fun? Now, what was the point of making me ride with you, hm?", you stand up and exit the little car, looking down at him while giving him a slightly weary smile, "Because I love you dad, and I wanted you to have fun too, I wanted you to have fun.". He slowly lets go of the seatbelt and looks up at you, his eyes softening and a warm, loving smile appears on his face as he chuckles quietly, "I love you too, petal, let's go home, alright?".

As you two make your way out of the ride, the walk out of the amusement park and to Simon's car is one filled with quietness, one that you both feel comfort in. He sighs as he walks, "Where'd you learn to drive like that?-" you cut him off almost immediately, a shit-eating grin on your face, "You.". He huffs, pulling on your ear gently, earning an annoyed whine from you, "My driving skills are-" you cut him off again as you chuckle smugly, "No they're not, don't even try to defend yourself, old man.". The whole walk back to his car is full of silly bickering, and he wouldn't wish for anything else.

#faust speaks #cod x reader #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #call of duty x reader #my writing

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zhvakinnn · 9 months ago

Note

Hi can't find your rules or anything and I'm sorry if this is out of your comfort zone but may I request the sbg crew and cuddle headcanons where reader is the big spoon. If possible can the reader be male?

Hii, yes sorry i haven't done my rules yet I'm kinda getting lazy but i will make one 🫡

Male reader!

Warning/s: homophobic's

Characters: Logan, Ben, Aiden

Part 2 characters : tyler, Taylor, Ashlyn

✨as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me✨

Logan fields

∆ He always wanted to be hold tight because he finds you're hug comfort

∆ whenever he got beaten up all he wanted was your hug, he always stopped you attacking Barron

∆ " he literally fucking beat the shit out of you for not doing his homework?! How can't i beat his ass too!"

"please, i just want a hug.."

∆ you'll see him startled when you raising you're voice, you suddenly stop and wanted to melt

∆ you'll just stop being mad then hug him telling him I'm sorry

∆ so whenever he wanted to hug he wants to be the little spoon because like i said he finds comfort in your hug's

Bonus fanfiction:

You we're all looking for Logan he said his going to the bathroom so you went there but as you went there you saw him and Barron hearing their conversation

"you think that little boyfriend of yours is gonna save you faggot?"

That last sentence hit you, you noticed Logan looked at you widen eyes you can see him having a black eye

"who you calling little and faggot?.."

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You and Barron ended up in the guidance room

Once you got out you glare daggers to barron as he walk out with his new bruises you scoff as you went to find your gang

Once you got there they looked at you in a worried faces they all ask you if you're ok, i only nodded and looked at logan who was more worried once we all got home Logan wants me to go in his house

His grandparents asked me how i got these bruises then i explained to her grandma what happened while Logan got a ice

"thank you for protecting my grandson, now i know who will protect him after i die"

"grandma please don't say that..."

Logan finally got the ice and you two went upstairs once you got there he hugged you and he buried his face in your neck

"thank you.."

You smiled and cuddle for a while

" i love you too"

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Ben Clark

∆ another one of those who were bullied which means he likes being hold aswell well sometimes if you're not in a good mood he will hug you but most of the time you're hugging him

∆ he likes being a small spoon because of his anger issues too, whenever his mad just take him somewhere private and hold him like a damn baby because he is

∆ like dhar mann would say 'dont judge a book by its cover' he may look tough and imitating but inside his such a softie

∆ when you two are cuddling he likes to play music in the background

∆ "hey what happened to him?"

"(name) finally you're here ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ"

Aiden was covering Ben's face and saw his fist rolled

∆ you have to drag him in the bathroom to hug him and tell him to calm down

Bonus scenario:

You were all in the classroom then the bell rang meaning its lunch time

You stretch a bit then when to ben who was sleeping

"love c'mon were to the cafeteria"

You nudge him a bit then he woke up when he lifted his head he smiled at you making your whole body melt

"ok c'mon now you lover birds"

That make him chuckle and so was i when he got up i hold his hand tight, we were all chatting in the hallway while walking to the canteen

You were both holding hands then a bitch went between you too

"exuse me"

She pushed you and Ben apart making Ben angry

"hey hey its ok nevermind her" He sigh and nodded

Then the same girl came annoying you again and again and again

"you're a disgusting homo"

It kept that on Ben's mind

Once you tag along with aiden chatting with him on the way

I pulled ben upstairs

"its ok nevermind her I'm here and i love you" you smiled as you hug him

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Aiden Clark

∆ sometimes you hate him being a small spoon because he wont stay still while sleeping!

∆ you, him and Ben went to a sleepover and he wanted you to hug him behind his back but as you hug him he will turn towards the wall, then the ceiling, then at you and annoying you're face

∆ "i might be annoying but i know you love it (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆" you wanna deny it but you cant because you love him

∆ like Ben he wanted to listen to music but his more into you humming him a lullaby

∆ he's so clingy

Bonus scenario:

He was so hyper everyday but today its ten times worst

Everyone looked at you and like 'how the hell did you get together with this maniac' or ' how do you have so many patients'

After all this you just wanna lay down and sleep

When he was yapping something who knows what that is he suddenly stop when he saw you getting annoyed

For the rest of you're class you wonder what happened to aiden he suddenly became silent

He might be annoying but you miss him yapping

"what the hell happened to him?"-tyler

" yeah he suddenly became-" -taylor

"silent..." -ashlyn

You shrug and looked at aiden once you got him home you greeted his parents and went to his room

" ok what..why...um why did you suddenly became... Silent?"

You said but panic when he looked down the ground, when you're about to speak he said

" am i annoying?"

Oh no no no

" why would you say that" you melt at his words why did he suddenly said that

" because whenever i talk to you you just frowned, i know that fine with everyone for me but whenever i talk you're face suddenly change to annoyed"

You didn't answer and just hugged his head

"I'm sorry I'm sorry i didn't mean to be like that but I'm just stressed but i shouldn't do that I'm sorry i love you"

He hugged you back as you both lay down you hum him a lullaby and both of you fell asleep

---------------------------------------------------

Finally donee🤸🏻!

Masterlist | about me | rules

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thefallennightmare · 2 months ago

Text

För Alltid: Jolly Karlsson x OFC! Astrid-One Shot[JP Universe]

Pairings: Jolly Kalrsson x OFC! Astrid[Just Pretend Universe]

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut( unprotected p in v while Jolly sits in the computer chair, slight biting, slight masturbation, Jolly suddenly realizing he has a breeding kink)

Words: 4,011.

Summary: The rope that binds Jolly and Astrid together is bound to snap. Can they tighten it before it's too late?

Authors Note: I've realized we haven't had an update into this couple since Fika came out so I decided why not! A little insight into the JP world without posting the next chapter. Also, I didn't tag anyone because I'm currently working on my tag list.

ASTRID

With a soft yawn, I scratched at my stomach as I walked into the apartment, the bag from the pharmacy clutched tight to my chest. My heart beat wildly in my chest with the only thought in my mind was making it to the bathroom. Thankfully, Jolly wasn’t home so he wouldn’t question what was in the bag. Even if he did catch me, it wasn’t like Jolly would say anything. He barely spoke more than five words to me since this morning; since our fight. He left almost immediately after our fight with a simple love you and I hadn’t seen him since, which was almost eight hours ago

The fighting had been more recent, almost every day one of us would bicker about something. It was like this months ago when I was dealing with the aftermath of my fathers death. Jolly suggested I talk to someone, outside of our relationship, about how I felt about his death. I took his advice and started seeing Dr. Poulos, which helped immensely. Jolly and I were good again, our relationship was thriving like how it had been in the beginning; back when he came to Fika every day.

I kept up my therapy appointments until recently. The last two weeks, the only thing I had energy for was working at Fika from open to close and then coming home to sleep off the exhaustion. Jessica and Tori quit, both deciding to move onto better things which I couldn’t hold against them. I still had Sean and a few other new employees but none of them were management material. So all the extra behind the scenes work fell on my shoulders. Jolly would come and help out when he wasn’t busy with Bad Omens but that wasn’t nearly as often.

It was four in the afternoon on a Thursday and I had plans on staying at Fika till close but after getting sick, I decided to come home for the evening, not before stopping at the pharmacy.

Setting the bag on the counter in the kitchen, I glanced around the quiet apartment and felt my heart sink when I still didn’t see Jolly’s Bad Omens sweater hanging on its normal hook. I pulled out my phone to check if I had any new messages.

I had five. Four from the girls group chat and one from Jolly.

My hands shook as I clicked on the one from Faye first.

Faye 🩵🧚: I’m going to throw up. I’m shooting for The Ghost Inside tonight while Matt works their front of house.

Tay 🍓: Meanwhile I’m going to cry because I’m looking at huskies for adoption but my apartment doesn't allow dogs.

Y/N 🐦‍⬛: Don’t get me fucking started on crying.

Tay 🍓: Shit.

Clicking out of our text thread without saying anything, I clicked on Jolly’s text.

Joakim ☕🩶: I’ll have dinner for us after you get home from therapy.

Fuck.

My therapy appointment was in two minutes but even if I wasn’t sick, there wasn’t any way I’d make it in time.

Right, were you sick the last two times you skipped therapy?

Typing out a quick excuse to Dr.Poulos about needing to cancel for being sick this time, I set my phone on DND and let it rest on the kitchen counter. As I reached into the bag from the pharmacy, the front door opened revealing Jolly who wore his typical sweater and dark glasses hiding his eyes as I locked mine with them. His hood was pulled over his hat but his long hair poked out down his shoulders.

“Shit,” I murmured when I noticed his shoulders stiffen.

“You’re supposed to be at therapy,” Jolly noted with a deep voice.

I rubbed my elbows. “Yeah-uh-I haven’t been feeling well.”

Jolly took off his sunglasses, setting them in the bowl on the table next to the door, and furrowed his brows while resting his hands on his hips. “Is that the excuse for missing the last three appointments?”

I blanched. “How did you know?”

“Dr. Poulos’ office sent a letter home,” he held up a letter that was ripped open.

“You read my fucking mail?” I seethed while slicing my eyes into him. “That’s an invasion of privacy!”

“I had no other choice, Astrid! You’ve been keeping shit from me,” Jolly sneered while throwing off his sweater and not bothering to hook it up. Instead he let it rest on the back of the couch.

I bit my tongue trying so hard not to have yet another fight today. Mentally I was exhausted and needed to remember what it felt like to be loved by Jolly.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” I blew out a shaky breath while running a hand through my white hair.

The brokenness in my voice made Jolly’s stern face soften just a tad. “Karaste. I just want you to talk to me.”

I scoffed. “Talk to you? Why would I when I try to, it always leads to a fight.”

“You’re lying to me!” His voice boomed in the space. “Are you even sick? You had no problem going to work all day.”

Every word he spoke dug the knife deeper and deeper into my chest because while I didn’t look sick on the outside, I knew what was wrong on the inside. Jolly wouldn’t understand, not unless I told him what was wrong. I just needed confirmation first.

I looked away from his assessing eyes and casted my gaze down at my feet, kicking my scuffed up VANS along the hardwood floor. When Jolly first moved in, he made the emptiness in here feel like a home. Now with all of our fighting lately, it was as if the love had been sucked out.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jolly,” I held up my hands exasperated. “It’s not like you’ll believe me since you think I’m lying.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and I did my best not to gawk at how his thick muscles clenched underneath his tight black shirt. Somehow with him throwing off his sweater, Jolly was still able to keep the black hat on. I let my eyes linger too long on the tattoos covering his left arm, up to the typical cross earring he wore, and finally over the dark facial hair that covered his face. He always made it look so good.

I clenched my legs together hoping to curb the fire that festered low inside of me. It had been so long since we touched each other but both of us were too angry with each other to even think about sex.

“Do you plan on getting back into therapy?” Jolly wondered.

My lips parted but nothing came out because truthfully, my therapy sessions were the farthest thing from my mind at the moment.

“I-I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“You fucking promised,” Jolly scoffed while running a hand over his jaw. "Everything is a lie. Every fucking thing!"

The door slamming in the small confines of my apartment echoed causing me to jump, doing whatever I could to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't cry, not for him. Not for Jolly. Even though the moment he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was cry not only because of the constant arguing but because I missed him terribly. He was here physically but emotionally, Jolly was checked out.

"Asshole," I grumbled under my breath, eyes boring daggers into the closed door of his office/studio.

Well, you did lie to him. You've been lying to him. Keeping secrets.

Ignoring the thoughts plaguing my existence lately, I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to turn back towards the kitchen counter. The exhaustion had been buried deep in my bones for the last couple of weeks and I didn’t think it had anything to do with working almost every day. All I wanted to do was curl in bed to sleep the rest of the evening away. Even though Jolly's words from our fight this morning before I left for work kept pestering me.

"I haven't thought much about the future. I'm trying to focus on now."

I asked him in the middle of yet another argument where he thought this relationship was going because I made the mistake of mentioning how I felt like things were stale between us. Jolly didn't think of the future. Of our future. He only thought of the now.

It had been weeks of arguing. Weeks of walking on eggshells around each other. Weeks of not having sex. And weeks of keeping a secret to myself. Now that I knew how Jolly felt, I couldn't decide on if I should continue to keep it to myself or tell him which could potentially ruin everything.

The urge to cry burned in my throat as I snatched the bag off of the kitchen counter and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment, noting the dark circles under my eye and the dark roots of my hair indicating I had not only skipped out on my therapy session but my hair appointments as well.

Averting my gaze away from the mirror, I dug out the box from the bag and nearly choked on a breath when I read over the letters once more. I nearly dropped it in the pharmacy when the realization began to sink in.

Pregnancy Test.

I had missed my period last month and it was coming up on when I was supposed to get it this month but with how I’d been feeling, I knew I wouldn’t be getting my period this month either.

That night was a night where we had a huge blowout argument, both of us questioning if we loved another. Deep down we knew we still loved each other and it was wrong for us to question it. But both of us were stubborn so instead of admitting our love, we decided to fuck out our frustrations; Jolly dragging me to the shower with him as I wrapped my legs around his midsection, marking his neck as mine while his cocked slammed into me.. Afterwards, Jolly helped me to our bed and apologized for the fight as he held me against his chest. I took the morning after pill later that afternoon once we realized we weren’t safe which is why I was hoping the test would be negative. Maybe the reason why I missed my period was because of all the stress I’d been under.

“Might as well get this over with,” I grumbled under my breath while ripping open the box.

It came with two tests and I figured it would be better if I used both so after peeing on both sticks, I set them on the counter and washed my hands. These next five minutes were going to be incredibly slow so after I changed into one of Jolly’s shirts and opted out of wearing pants, I paced the bathroom. I thought about maybe texting the girls group chat but knew with what Y/N was going through, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I didn’t want it to seem as if I was rubbing it in her face if I was pregnant.

“Shit,” I clutched my chest when the timer on my phone went off.

As I reached for the tests which were overturned, I paused for a moment wondering if maybe I should have been doing this with Jolly.

“If he wasn’t such an asshole,” I muttered to the thought in my head and turned over the two tests.

My heart was in my ears, in my throat, and in the depths of my stomach when I saw the one word that sealed our fate.

Positive.

Both tests were positive.

“Fuck me,” I breathed while resting a hand on my stomach, the tears finally falling.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that even though we were fighting, Jolly would be fine with whatever I decided to do. It was my choice. But would he stay with me? Bad Omens had been working non stop on touring and recording their next two albums. Hence why Jolly had been in a mood lately. I knew his anger wasn't directly related to me but because he’d been overworked. I also knew that didn’t give him the right to take it out on me.

Pulling up Jolly’s text thread on my phone, shaking fingers worked out a text even though he was still in the next room.

Me: I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you meet me in the living room please?

Joakim ☕🩶: I’m busy working.

With a snarl, I snatched the tests off the bathroom counter and stormed out into his office, letting the door smack against the wall. Jolly didn’t bother to look away from his computer, one of Bad Omens new tracks on display, as I dropped the tests on the desk in front of him.

“Congratulations. You’re going to be a father,” I snapped before turning to walk away.

The chair creaked as Jolly leaned forward to gaze down at his desk, a soft breath catching in his throat.

“Karaste,” his fingers grazed my wrist, halting me. “Wait.”

“What? Are you going to claim I’m faking this again?” I snapped, slicing him with my gaze.

“I-,” Jolly’s face softened as he looked back at the pregnancy tests. “You’re pregnant?”

I let the anger fade momentarily when I heard the sincerity in his voice, the slight excitement.

“Yeah, I guess so. I missed my period last month and I’ve been so exhausted lately. Not to mention my boobs have been really sore,” I cringed while running a hand over my chest.

Jolly glanced up at my breasts with a small smirk but then he let his gaze lower on my stomach where it rested for a long few beats of silence. Fear of what he would do or say weighed heavy on my shoulders causing me to remain frozen in front of him. The air in the room was thick with an unreadable tension and the ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn’t even hear our shared breathing as Jolly continued to stare at my stomach before his large hands rested there.

“Hi,” he breathed. “Jag är din pappa.”

Over our time together, Jolly had been slowly teaching me Swedish so immediately I knew what he said.

I’m your dad.

I dragged a finger over his cheek, those amber eyes I adored so much gazed up at me underneath his black hat. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Astrid?” Jolly asked with furrowed brows.

“For lying to you. For not going to my therapy appointments. For avoiding fixing things between us by working nonstop.”

I rattled off which made him link fingers with me and brought me down onto his lap, both of us now sitting in his computer chair. He rested his hands over my hip, slowly raising up the hem of my shirt so he could drag calloused fingers over my skin. It was the most contact we’ve had in a week and I leaned farther into him. His nose dragged over my jaw, breathing me in.

“I’m sorry for all of the hurtful things I’ve said. I’m sorry for reading your mail when I should have asked you up front what was wrong. I’m sorry for locking myself away with work instead of fixing things between us,” Jolly apologized.

Removing his hat, I looked deeper into his eyes, taking in the slight freckles on his face.

“Can I be honest?”

When Jolly nodded, I continued. “You freaked me out when you said you never thought of our future and now that I’m pregnant, I’m worried you’re going to leave.”

“Absolutely not,” he cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb just underneath my eye to wipe away the stray tears. “I’ve never thought about the future until you came into my life, karaste. I might not express it enough, which is my fault but please know you’re in my future. Especially now.”

His free hand grazed over my stomach and I nodded into the grasp on my cheek, leaving a kiss on the inside of his palm.

“Can you promise me one thing?” I asked.

“Anything.”

Biting my lip, I spoke. “Can you promise not to propose to me just because I’m pregnant? I want you to propose because you want to, not because you feel like you have too.”

Something flashed in his eyes but Jolly eventually nodded. “Of course.”

While sitting on his lap, the chair continued to creak underneath our shared weight and I sighed, ready to get off which caused him to tighten his grip on me.

“Stay,” he breathed in the crook of my neck. “I need to show you how sorry I am.”

Quickly, Jolly’s lips were on mine in a leisurely kiss. It started off like how our first kiss did, like he was testing the waters again. I nearly sobbed into the kiss when I felt the love pour out of him. I’d been desperate to feel this way again. With his hands on my hips, he began moving me up and down his lap, the hardness of his cock pressing against the thin material of my panties. His name fell from my lips, almost immediately swallowed by his tongue as it explored my mouth, tasting me.

Tattooed fingers slinked up my shirt to graze over my back before Jolly tossed it over my head and down to the floor, breaking our kiss. Lust bleed in his already dark eyes as he looked at my stomach, his cock straining in his jeans.

“Shit,” he groaned while pressing kisses along my chest. “I can’t wait to see you round with my baby.”

A moan fell from my lips as I exposed more of myself to Jolly, his teeth now grazing over my nipples. Along with my sore breasts, my nipples were extra sensitive.

“Jolly,” I pulled on his shirt.

He immediately understood and helped me work it off. Immediately my nails raked over the familiar tattoo along his chest as my lips met his again in a fiery kiss, this one more intense than the last. With a gentle tap to my ass, I raised my hips slightly so Jolly could drag down my panties with a bit of maneuvering. However with his jeans, it would have taken way more maneuvering on his part to slide them off completely.

“We should move to the bed,” I suggested, breathless.

Jolly shook his head, keeping his lips on the current mark he was working on my neck. “Absolutely not. I want you to sit on my cock while I sit on the chair.”

Feeling feisty, I pulled away from him slightly to gaze down at him. “Really? This has nothing to do with Noah making it slip the other day how Y/N and him did something eerily similar to this.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Please don’t bring up Noah having sex right now.”

When he motioned towards his unzipped jeans, I let out a soft giggle and then reached my hand in his briefs to grab his cock, already so warm and hard.

“I’ve missed this,” I whispered, gathering his precum to drag it over the head.

“Astrid,” my name came out through gritted teeth as Jolly rested his head on my shoulder. “I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Pulling his cock out from his briefs completely, I dragged it between my folds a few strokes before sinking down on him; both of us letting out a loud groan of pleasure. It had been so long since we’ve felt this so I knew we wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck,” Jolly strangled out while wrapping his arms around me to bring me closer. “I can’t wait to watch your belly get round with my baby.”

I mewled in response, mouth busy with leaving dark marks across his neck while one of my hands slipped between our bodies to press circles on my clit, bringing me closer to the edge.

His cock twitched inside of me, indicating he was close when his hips stilled. “You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my kid. Your belly and tits-oh shit."

“Don’t stop,” I begged while riding him faster this time, the chair nearly falling over.

For the first time since I walked into the room, I noticed a soft tune emanating from the computer speakers, instantly recognizing the voice.

“What if we got even for all the wrong reasons? What could it change?”

“Astrid,” Jolly’s voice now pulled me away from the song back to him and I brushed away the hair from his sweat slicked forehead. “I’m going to fill you up over and over again.”

I nodded as the coil in my stomach began to ignite in a blaze of ecstasy, my orgasm about to snap.

“I love you,” I cried out when my body finally snapped, arousal coating Jolly’s cock.

With one final thrust, he followed me over the edge as he filled me with his cum and a breathless Jag älskar dig mer, karaste in the skin of my neck.

I love you more, dearest.

Falling into him with exhaustion, Jolly lifted me from the chair and carried me through our apartment towards the bathroom.

“Are you alright?” He questioned while still carrying me.

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Setting me on the closed toilet seat, he turned on the shower and removed his pants while we waited for the steam to bellow around us.

“First thing tomorrow, you’re calling Dr. P to reschedule your appointments,” he said while running a brush through my hair.

“I will,” I promised. “I never meant to skip them. I just got overwhelmed with everything. Work, feeling sick, and our fighting.”

Putting the brush down, Jolly kneeled in front of me so he could rest his hands on my thighs.

“What do you say we get away for a bit? Just the two of us. We could head up to Big Bear. I know how much you loved it the last time we were there.”

I nodded eagerly. “I would love that. Fika is doing so well that if I closed it down for the weekend, we’d still survive.”

When the steam began to gather on the mirror and stuck to our skin, Jolly helped me up to my feet and rested his hand on my stomach where our baby was growing.

“I need to call the doctor to get an ultrasound scheduled so I can figure out exactly how far along I am,” I said while covering his hands with my own.

“Tomorrow?” He asked with bright eyes.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I led him into the shower with me. “I don’t think I’d be able to get in that quick. Plus it’s Y/N’s birthday tomorrow. Noah wants us all there by four p.m.”

As Jolly set me underneath the stream of water, he reached for my shampoo and lathered it up in his hands.

“We should probably keep this quiet, for multiple reasons,” he noted while working the shampoo in my hair.

I hummed in agreement and settled into the tranquility of Jolly washing me first and then me doing the same to him.

Even through all of the fighting we’d gone through recently, it was evident our love remained just as strong as the first day he walked into Fika asking for a black coffee with two spoonsful of sugar. Almost two years later, he still took his coffee the same way. Just like our love had remained the same, regardless of the fighting. While I was unsure of a lot of things recently, there was one thing I knew for certain now besides our baby growing inside of me.

För alltid.

We were forever.

#tina talks #bad omens #just pretend noah sebastian #bad omens cult #joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson fics #jolly karlsson one shot #jolly karlsson smut #jolly karlsson x astrid #jolly karlsson x ofc

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