#The vision of the supposed hell was a whole thing too but this is the one that made me think of purgatory

[ruvviks]

toying with the idea of making yancey's friends not real. would that be too evil

[roxyandelsewhere]

purgatory supernatural if they weren't cowards (brought to u by William Blake in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell)

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎

characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader

warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)

notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)

sigh…

another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.

but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.

or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.

at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.

he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.

shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.

finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.

“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.

“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.

“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.

as if you needed the heads-up.

“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.

soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.

“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.

“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.

you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.

immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.

“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.

one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?

apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.

"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.

in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.

with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.

"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.

"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.

[sanarsi]

We Have It All

pre/post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel were separated by the outbreak. Warnings: angst but with happy ending, mention of killing, use of weapon Wordcount: 3k An: I've always wondered what it would be like to experience the start of the outbreak as someone close to Joel, which is why we are here. Music I worked with: We Have It All - Pim Stones

Masterlist

"My flight got canceled," you sighed, throwing your clothes carelessly into your suitcase. You were furious. All your plans were gone to hell. "I'm sorry, baby."

"You don't have to apologize to me," Joel's amused voice echoed in your ear. You winced, still feeling guilty.

"I know, but I wanted us to spend your birthday together," you said calmly and sat down heavily on the bed. "Sarah and I were supposed to make a cake and humiliate you by singing happy birthday in front of the house." Joel snorted with laughter. You smiled to yourself, anxiously picking at your cuticles.

"Yeah, that sounds awful." You fell silent, staring blankly at the floor. "Babe, it's not the end of the world. We can celebrate my birthday when you get there," he assured you, knowing full well that you felt bad about how the whole situation had turned out. "I won't get any older in a few days," he added with amusement. You snorted quietly.

"I don't know. I recently found one gray hair."

"What?" he asked suddenly concerned.

"I'm joking," you laughed at his reaction. You heard him breathe heavily. "I booked tickets for tomorrow's flight."

"Then we'll pick you up from the airport. Sarah can't wait." In the background you could hear a cheerful screams of a girl. "She misses you," he added, making you feel warm in your heart. Joel always knew how to cheer you up. "I miss you too," he said more quietly, with different emotions. With real longing. You felt something inside you clench.

"Fuck you, Joel. You can't say things like that to me when I'm on the verge of a breakdown," you pointed out, smiling under your breath. His laughter echoed in your ear again.

“Yeah, sorry babe.” You could hear some chatter in the background. After a moment you heard Joel sigh heavily. “We have to go. Sarah’s gonna be late,” he said in his typical tired tone. You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” You could hear some murmurs in the background. “I love you.”

“Love you, old man.” His snort brought a wider smile to your face.

“Lovely,” he commented, probably rolling his eyes before he hung up.

You pushed your phone away with a quiet sigh. The screen displayed a wallpaper with a picture of the three of you on vacation a few months ago. You smiled at the memories that flooded your head. You looked around the hotel room and then fell back onto the mattress. You cursed the whole world for today, all your plans went to hell.

Today, of the whole fucking year.

Meanwhile, Joel was sitting in the car, looking at a small ring in a navy blue suede box. A few diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. Tommy glanced at his brother with a smirk.

"So when are you going to propose?" he asked, and Sarah's head immediately appeared between their seats.

"I wanted to do it today," he sighed, closing the box and putting it in his pocket. "But as you can see, it'll have to wait."

He glanced at Tommy and his daughter, then rolled his eyes at their stupid smiles.

"What?" he asked when they didn't say anything for a long time.

"Nothing. I'm just happy for you," Tommy replied with a shrug. Joel didn't comment on his words.

"Will she have the same last name as us?" Sarah asked.

"I hope so," Joel agreed, looking out the window.

"Cool. I'll be able to call her my mom," she said happily, and fell back into her seat.

And Joel couldn't help but smile a little at the vision she planted in his head.

In the middle of the night, you were woken up by loud noises. You mumbled in dissatisfaction, turning towards the window. You winced when you saw any lights. After a moment, you heard an explosion. You woke up immediately, throwing the blanket aside and went to the window.

A few blocks away, you could see that one of the buildings was on fire. You watched it calmly until another explosion engulfed another skyscraper, this time closer to your hotel. The silence was drowned out by car alarms and people's screams.

Your first thought was a terrorist attack.

You felt a surge of stress, observing everything from a distance. The loud sound of several fighter jets cut through the sky, catching your attention. And then the first shot came.

You watched in horror as more buildings in the city center burst into flames. You swallowed hard, tightening your fingers on the curtain. And then the loud sound of the phone ringing echoed through the room.

You almost jumped on the spot, turning towards the bed. The screen lit up the dark room. You quickly answered the call, seeing Joel's photo.

"Hello?" you spoke, swallowing the lump in your throat. Someone's curses and murmurs could be heard on the other end.

"Hello? Baby, are you okay?" Joel's breathless voice rang out in your ear. You immediately looked towards the window and felt your pulse quicken.

"Y-yes, I'm okay. Joel, what's going on?" you asked, looking out at the city. Another explosion. You flinched, looking towards the building that was in flames. Just a few dozen meters away. A quiet curse sounded on the phone. "Joel?" you spoke uncertainly.

"We don't know. There's a lot of soldiers everywhere. They've blocked the highways."

With each word he spoke, you felt more and more panic.

Another thought was war.

"They say it's some kind of virus. People are going crazy and attacking each other like animals."

You looked down at the street where people were running. Screams mixed with the howl of sirens. Your breath trembled as you moved away from the window.

“Joel, I’m scared,” were the first words you said after realizing how bad things were. If it was happening here and in Texas, then it was everywhere.

And you were alone on the other side of the country.

“Listen to me,” he began calmly. You began to breathe deeply to control your growing fear. “Grab the most necessary things. Get in the car and drive out of town on the side roads. You need to get out of the city center, do you understand?” he explained slowly so you could understand every word. You mumbled something in confirmation. “Baby, I need you to take a few deep breaths and do as I said. You need to get out of town. As soon as possible.”

"Okay," you said, feeling your stomach tighten painfully. You looked around the room in panic and then another explosion occurred. That's when you shook yourself. You quickly moved towards your suitcase and started putting on your clothes.

"Stay off the country roads," he continued explaining as you put on your sneakers. You went to your locker and threw everything into your bag in one move.

"Okay," you nodded, grabbing your car keys. You left the hotel room and looked around the hallway until you saw a sign for an emergency exit. You quickly headed in that direction.

"Tommy and I are going for Sarah."

"What?" you stopped, frowning. "She's not with you?" Silence fell on the other end. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was the middle of the night and Sarah was home alone. How on earth?

"I had to get Tommy out of the arrest," he finally spoke. You closed your eyes, sighing heavily.

Of course it was always about Tommy.

You shook your head and headed down the stairs. You had to get to the underground parking lot. You ran out the door, looking around. It was quiet here. You quickly got into your car and looked around like it was your first time driving. After a few tries and a few panicked curses, you finally got the key in the ignition and screeched to the exit.

You looked around the street before you pulled out onto the road and turned on the navigation. You looked around nervously in every possible direction as you started driving through different housing estates.

"I should be leaving the city in a few minutes," you said, driving more carefully than usual. The further you got from the center, the quieter it was. Fewer and fewer police sirens and people.

"Okay, baby, listen," he started slowly. "Head toward Kansas."

"Okay," you nodded, swallowing hard.

"We'll meet exactly halfway, yeah?"

"Okay," you nodded again, feeling your voice start to shake.

"I will find you," he assured you. He wanted to sound confident. He wanted you to feel safe because of him. But his voice trembled as well.

"Okay," you said again, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

"I will find you, I promise," he repeated. You nodded, feeling tears start to flow down your cheeks. You pressed your lips together to hold back a sob. "I lo-"

Silence.

You looked at your phone in panic.

"Joel?" you said, but no one answered you.

You felt panic shake your body. You began to breathe quickly, trying to fight off more and more tears.

It wasn't until you passed the sign informing you to leave the city that you felt adrenaline take over your body. You rubbed your wet cheeks and took a few deep breaths.

"You will be fine," you said confidently and pressed the gas pedal, leaving the burning city behind you.

One year later.

You looked at the map again and cursed under your breath, looking around.

Everywhere fucking forests and fields.

With a sigh, you put the map in your backpack and slowly set off through the tall grass. There was silence all around. The wind gently moved the treetops and the birds sang merrily. Nothing had changed here. Nature continued to live as if nothing had changed at all.

But everything had changed.

The world had stopped and started to fall apart.

At least for those who had managed to survive.

You were one of those people.

You had been fighting to survive for a year. Starving, fighting and killing. Who would have expected that? If someone had told you a year ago what you would become, you would have thought they were mentally ill.

And yet, you were where you were. Which was currently in the middle of fucking nowhere.

After a few hours, you were sitting by a small stream, filling a bottle with cold water. As usual, you took the opportunity to wash your body of dirt. If you could even call it that. At least you didn't feel everything sticking to your skin so you considered it as a success.

You sat leaning against a tree, looking at the map, waiting for the fire to fry the fish you had caught sufficiently. You traced the path you had to take to cross the Missouri-Kansas border with your finger.

You still had a long way to go. But you had already come a lot further. You were getting closer to the goal that had kept you alive for a year.

You knew Joel was alive. You could feel it in your bones.

Joel was a tough motherfucker.

He certainly wouldn't let himself be killed and he was on his way to Kansas.

If he wasn't already waiting for you there.

That's what you hoped.

The next few days passed on a lonely journey. Your legs hurt terribly, but you had gotten used to it. You had gotten used to many things. But it probably took you the longest to get used to the smell.

Another sunset was approaching as you slowly walked along the dirt road kicking a small stone. The sky turned orange as you left the road and headed towards the forest. You had learned that it was safest to sleep in trees. Even though you hadn't seen a living soul in weeks, you were always prepared. No one ever looked up when looking for potential threats. So when you found a suitable thick tree, you began preparing ropes.

You were concentrating on tying knots when suddenly the sound of a branch breaking echoed through the forest. You looked around but didn't see anything that caught your attention.

Despite everything, you slowly and quietly lifted your backpack from the ground. You put the ropes away looking around for threats.

And then you heard another crack of branches.

Your senses sharpened and adrenaline hit you like a bolt of lightning. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and pulled your gun from your belt.

You slowly and carefully took steps not making a sound and hid under a group of trees. And you waited. For some time, all you heard was your calm breathing and the last birdsongs. You began to wonder if you had accidentally run into a deer or some other animal, but then you heard the next branches breaking under someone's weight. You immediately recognized the male footsteps.

Wary and heavy.

You slowly uncocked the gun and looked out through the gap between the trunks. You saw movement. A few dozen meters away from you. And unfortunately for you, he was walking in your direction.

You cursed in your mind at your luck and took a few deep breaths.

Another rustle of dry leaves getting closer to you. You tightened your grip on the gun and listened.

The snapping of branches. You glanced one last time through the gap in the trees to determine how far he was. He was definitely too close.

One last deep breath before you emerged from your hiding place.

“Stop and drop your weapon,” you said sharply, aiming it straight at the man in front of you. But you weren’t the only one prepared. You both stood, aiming your weapons at each other. You both had each other perfectly in your sights. And you were both alone.

"I just want to get to Kansas," he said in a hoarse, loud voice.

"Then you got your sides mixed up," you replied, keeping him carefully in your sights. To your detriment, the setting sun and the fog didn't help.

"What?" he was surprised, slightly taken aback.

"Kansas is the other way," you explained, frowning when you noticed he lowered his gun slightly. "No tricks. Throw the gun in my direction and take a few steps back," you ordered, carefully watching his every move. For a moment, there was complete silence. His hands finally fell loosely along his body.

"Fuck. Baby?" he said in a completely different tone. You frowned, lowering the gun when you heard a familiar voice. A gentle wind stirred the fog, giving you a better view of the man a dozen meters in front of you.

"Joel," you whispered in shock, the gun falling from your hand. Your heart stopped for a moment only to start beating like crazy when you saw his look of relief.

"Fuck," he cursed with a trembling voice before he confidently took a step towards you. And you started running.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging his neck tightly. His arms wrapped around you so tightly you could barely catch your breath. You sobbed with happiness feeling your body overcome with relief. How his arms finally brought you the desired safety. Joel groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you finally held him in your arms. Alive. Healthy.

You tangled your fingers in his hair pulling him even closer starting to laugh with happiness. His fingers dug painfully into your skin as he pressed you closer to his chest. The amount of relief he felt holding you in his arms was indescribable. Like a huge weight from his shoulders fell apart in a second finally allowing him to breathe.

"I knew I'd find you" he whispered almost moaning with happiness.

You could barely see through your tears as he pulled you away, taking your face in his hands. He looked at you closely. Same eyes, same smile, and a few more scars. Other than that, nothing had changed.

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around his wrists, letting out a shaky breath that disappeared a moment later into his mouth as he pressed them tightly against yours.

He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you with everything he had in him. Longing, relief, pain and love. It wasn't a gentle kiss, but the best you've ever had in your life.

His lips tasted like home.

And that kiss was a promise that you'd never be alone again.

He finally pulled away and pulled you to his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair and rested his cheek on your head. You snuggled into his chest, closing your eyes.

"I was so fucking scared," he whispered, hugging you tighter and planting a strong kiss on the top of your head. "I was so fucking scared you'd die," he stroked your back and a few tears ran down his cheeks, soaking into your hair. You sobbed, burying your face in his chest.

His fingers stroked your hair soothingly.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing kisses on your head.

You were in his arms.

Safe and sound.

After a year of separation, you were finally safe.

"Everything will be fine now," he assured you, believing in his own words like never before. "I will take care of you."

[keeksandgigz]

okay okay, but imagine an older!modern!eddie getting ticked off every time you have your phone on 'do not disturb.'

this was supposed to be a blurb but pls queens turn off your dnd this is loosely based on a true story

eddie munson x fem! reader

word count: 3k

cw: porn with a little plot, spanking with a spoon, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv (pls don't do that), use of nicknames (sweetness, sugar, baby etc), established d/s dynamic (even if there isn't much of it here), no physical description of reader, minors dni, smut below the cut!

Like, it starts off kinda funny like "Honey, c'mon I need you to return my calls if I know you're free. I needa know my girl is safe" he says, voice real sweet. You just apologize and turn it off.

Until it becomes a recurrent thing. He'll call you to ask if you still need to get picked up after class while you're out running errands. You don't see his call until after class and you hurriedly call him to come pick you up.

Or he's at the grocery store to pick up dinner for later and he's texting you to ask what he needs to get for you and you just don't answer him. You don't see his texts.

He tries to call. Voicemail.

He later gets home with whatever he was craving and just starts cooking.

"But I thought we said we were gonna do pasta, Ed? Why're you making chicken?" you ask, literally without a clue as to why dinner plans have changed.

"Well, sweetness, if you don't answer my texts or return my calls how the hell am I supposed to know what kinda pasta you wanted, huh?" he just shrugs, voice a bit hardened. You can tell it's starting to tick him off.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Ed, I don't even know where my phone is, really" you scratch your head, looking around but not really in search for your phone.

"Well, if you didn't have your DnD on you'd know where your phone is once I call or text you. It's starting to get a little frustrating, baby, can you please be a little more mindful and turn off your 'do not disturb' when you don't need it please?" you just nod sheepishly, like you've been scolded for not saying 'thank you' to a gift you didn't like.

And it does end up happening numerous times. Luckily, nothing too insane.

Sometimes he'd ask you if you wanted to call and you just sit there waiting for him to call. After ten minutes, you assume he's gone to sleep (he's a bit old after all), so you turn off your phone and tuck in for the night.

"Why didn't you pick up last night baby? I called you like six times" he asks the morning after.

"Wait, you called? I was waiting for you to call and then you didn't so I just went to bed" you explain, then clocking the issue there. Shit.

"You had your DnD on, didn't you, sweetness?" and he gets close to you. Close enough for you to hold your breath, too entranced by his big presence, filling up every bit of your vision. You feel suffocated by him.

You look down, too much to be looking at him right now, with the aura of calm and cool control that he exudes. It'd be easier for him to swallow you whole than for you to be making eye contact with him right now.

He just takes care of that promptly for you. He gingerly places two fingers under your chin, making you look at him in the eyes.

"You look at me when I talk to you. You know better, don't you baby?" and he puts on this fake pout that makes you blush all over. You imagine the butterflies at the bottom of your stomach tinging a pretty shade of pink with every domineering word that comes out of that man's mouth.

You just nod, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, releasing you from the delicious torture of him invading your senses as he takes a step back, letting your chin go before he just goes back to what he was doing.

"Oughta punish you one of these days if you don't turn that damn DnD off" he mutters and then he's back on his computer.

The gruff words make your shaky legs stutter as you decide you cannot be standing anymore and you plop yourself on the couch.

His last straw, however, is when you're out at a club with your friends. You've had one too many drinks and you text Eddie to come pick you up. He has no idea where you are.

Yeah, baby I can pick you up. Where at? 12:34 am

Can't pick you up if you don't tell me where you are, sweetness. 12:42 am

You there? 12:50 am

Turn off your DnD PLEASE 1:00 am

I'm omw 1:03 am

And he pulls up in front of the bar you were helplessly staring out the door of. You're not drunk, just not having fun.

You run into the car, shivering from the biting November breeze.

"Had to call one of your friends to tell me where the fuck you were. Are you drunk?" he asks. Voice stern, laden with what you could only define as barbed wire. Cutting, angry, almost.

"'m not drunk." you mutter "I had, like, a shot, then I decided I wasn't having fun anymore. Didn't wanna go out in the first place" finding the creases and ridges of your hands very interesting all of a sudden.

"Trust me when I tell you you won't be having fun at home either. Fucking sick of that 'do not disturb' thing on. You had me scared to death." he seethes, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. You notice he's wearing his pyjamas.

Fuck. You made him get out of bed. You shrink in your seat.

"Y'don't wanna be disturbed? I'll fuckin' teach you about being disturbed" and that's the last thing he says before he just speeds home.

There's thick tension between the two of you when he opens the door to his apartment. You sit on his counter, looking at the floor and getting ready for another scolding.

He's leaning on the wall opposite to you, arms crossed.

He breaks the silence "Floor's lookin' clean? You gonna look at me now?" you shiver, then look up to meet his darkened eyes.

He scoffs and takes a few paces towards you, until he's placed between your parted legs.

"What do I gotta do with you, huh? Do I gotta start checkin' your phone to make sure that damn thing is turned off? As far as I'm concerned after your classes you shouldn't have it on at all" he remarks, his hands caressing over the nylon of your tights, toying with the fabric of your dress.

You interject "I just forget, Ed. I'm so busy these days I forget to turn it off" you jut out your bottom lip, trying to coax a bit of sweet sympathy out of him. Something that'll make the punishment a bit lighter.

But he remains unmoved, his lips in a straight line as he moves his hands up, up, up to firmly hold your waist. "So forgetful, aren't you, baby? Maybe you need a reminder, carve some space in that big, busy brain of yours to remember to turn your DnD off, hm?" he chides, playing with the insides of your arm, skin sensitive and waiting as his thick finger moves up and down and you can't help but nod.

Your breath begins to pick up ever so slightly. But he notices, of course he notices. The way your mouth parts and your pupils dilate. The way your chest begins to get closer to him, rising and falling in anticipation.

"So pretty" he teases, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his palm, letting out a sweet humming sound that makes Eddie's stomach flip despite his hardened facade "Y'wanna play?"

His voice goes to a deep, dark timbre, the question making you shiver. You speak for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Yes, sir" voice thin and quiet as you keep looking at him, not wanting to worsen your precarious position as he undoes the zipper of the short dress you're wearing, helping him out by taking your arms out of the thin sleeves.

"Good girl," he remarks, tapping the sides of your thighs to make you lift your hips, removing the dress off of you completely.

He licks his lips when he finds you're wearing tights. He loves spanking you with the nylon barrier between his hand and the soft skin of your ass. A weird quirk of his.

You feel the hardened pressure of his bulge against the inside of your thigh as his body turns to litter a trail of kisses over your jawline and you keen into his touch, arch towards his chest demanding more, more, more. Even if you're in no position to demand anything.

A whine escapes you as you keep arching your hips towards him. Eddie's quick to stop you with a strong hand pinning you down against the marble of the counter. He tuts.

"Don't be greedy. Hop off and bend over" he commands, and who are you to say no to him as you comply with a meek "Yes, sir," resting your elbows on the cold counter.

His nose skims the length of your spine, taking in the way you smell. Sweet and musky, after a night of dancing among sweaty bodies. The thought intrudes Eddie's head. Did a body press itself against you? Is the scent of a random man now on the skin of your back, the fabric of your dress?

He shakes the thought away as he reaches the waistband of your black nylon tights.

"Pass me that wooden spoon, will you, sugar?" he says sweetly, snaking a hand in your hair. You shiver as you reach for the wooden utensil in the metal bucket next to the stove. You pass it to him, skin pricking up from the anticipation of not knowing what he might do with it.

"Thank you, baby" he kisses your shoulders, as the spoon comes into contact with your ass. Caressing up and down.

"Now, I hate to do this, you know me, but I gotta teach you a lesson, sweetness. Tell me you want this" he says, the utensil snaking its way between your legs, rubbing back and forth. A wicked smile appearing on Eddie's lips when you begin to helplessly whimper, your head lolling on its side against the marble counter.

"I- I want this" you say, loud enough to make him hear you.

And that's all he needs. A green light.

The wooden spoon lands on the meat of your ass. You hiss. The feeling is new, he hadn't spanked you with anything aside of his hand before, but the feeling of the wooden handle cracking on your skin makes your head reel.

"You gonna put your phone on DnD again?" he asks, a question he knows the answer to as he cracks down the spoon again.

"Ah- ow- No, sir. Thank you, sir" you say, sweet and compliant, hoping that it will relieve you of your penance earlier than he'd planned to.

His hand sneaks itself on the seam of your tights, knowing you never wear panties with them, feeling the heat radiating off of your core, a dampness that had been sitting there since you'd climbed in the car.

He chuckles to himself, a dark laugh, a notice that he will not go easy on you tonight.

"You're likin' this?" you can almost hear the wicked smile in his words. "You little slut, you're getting wet from this? Me smacking you with a spoon?" he taunts and your legs quiver as he administers two more cracks to your ass.

You have cotton in your ears. Your skin feels everything and nothing at the same time as you begin slumping against the counter.

"So horny you can't even stand, huh, sweetness?" Eddie smacks you again and then reaches his arm around your waist to pull you up "Little slut didn't want me to disturb her, hat true?" he asks, another smack, this time he expects an answer.

"Fuck- ow- no Eddie that's not-ah" another smack "t-true" you sob, tears beginning to well on the waterline of your eyes.

Your ass feels on fire while Eddie puts the spoon down next to your head. Your legs shaky in your heels as he kneels between your legs.

Two of his fingers hooked on the seam of your tights as he rips a hole in them, exposing you to him. You gasp, more at the suddenness of the motion than at the action itself.

Your tights never had a long enough lifespan when you wore them around Eddie.

"You got so wet, sweetness." He whispers, entranced by the way the skin glistens in the dull kitchen light.

His hands hook around your waist to keep you still as his face narrows into your pussy, and he begins to lick.

Broad stripes of his tongue, slurping and lapping up whatever he missed. Eating like a man starved.

Your back arching to get more, more, greedy in the best way possible as you mewled and cried for him to keep going. As you mewled and cried nonsense, feeling your brain turn fuzzy and your eyes becoming accustomed to going to the back of your head every time his tongue lingered long enough on your clit.

When he begins to suck harshly on it you have no choice but to grab the back of his head and push it further, if there ever was a further, as he is wedged deep between your legs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

He doesn't like it, though, the way you grab and push at his head like you're the one calling the shots.

He unhooks his arms from your waist momentarily to reach for your wrists to pin them behind your back, that's when he stands from his place in between your legs.

"Y'think you're a big girl, huh? Callin' the shots?" he lands a smack on your ass, turning you around to finally face him. Hands still pinned behind you as he pushes you towards him.

"I didn't- I don't-" you try and justify yourself, but he just delivers a smack to your face. Light enough to give you a slight sting.

His chin glistens with your slick, and you can smell it on him.

"Look what you did" he says, taunting you. His free hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, making you look at him.

"Clean me up, since you wanna be so fuckin' messy" and he squeezes harder, your tongue jutting out to lick at the clear wetness on his face, slight stubble scratching your tongue and chin. You lick around his mouth, under his nose, until he pushes you away from him.

"Greedy, greedy" he chants, as he places you on top of the counter, cold marble a relief against your aching ass.

You could clearly see the outline of his cock against his sweats, you bite your lip as he inches closer to you. “Look how hard you made me, baby," he mutters, low and dark "it’s impossible to be in your presence when you look like you want to get fucked all the time." he continues "Goin' out in that tight little dress like you don't want everyone to see your pretty tits" he says, grabbing a handful through the bralette you're wearing.

He moves the cups to the side as he toys with your tits, a hand reaching into your mouth to wet his fingers. You gag and sputter around his digits.

"Theeere you go, sweetness. Y'like having your mouth full?" he asks, Hardened stare urging you to answer. You nod and let out a weak hum in approval as his fingers keep pushing in and out of your mouth.

He removes his fingers from your mouth as he begins circling the sensitive buds of your nipples. You let out a desperate moan.

"So sensitive, aren't you? You wanna cum like that while I fuck you?" he asks, and you can't find the words fast enough to nod your head yes.

"Ask me nicely. You know better" he says sternly as he uses one hand to lower the waistband of his sweats, letting his cock spring free.

"F-fuck, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me, sir" is all you can muster, before he guides his cock to your entrance, sinking in all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes you. It never gets old.

"That's a good girl. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he teases, both his hands returning to deliver their ministrations on your tits, thumb unforgivingly grazing your nipples. The motion makes you scream as Eddie sets a quick pace.

"That's right, sweetness, keep singin' for me. Lemme hear that pretty voice" he says, his words making you clench around him.

His hands come off your tits to place your legs on your shoulders, making you curl in on yourself as he leaned his body to make your faces touch.

"Kiss me, baby" and you kiss him with such fervor and need. He hadn't kissed you the whole night. You don't know how much you need him to kiss you until you do and it's like fireworks are going off behind your hooded lids.

His tongue slips past your lips as he keeps thrusting, unforgivingly, hitting your g- spot every. single. time. You whine into his mouth, he chuckles at how needy you sound.

"My baby just needed a good fuck to remember to not put her DnD on, didn't you?" he taunts, an especially harsh thrust follows as you feel his breathing become more ragged and his pace begin to stutter.

"Feels good, huh? Shit, baby you're so tight" he begins and you can't help but moan.

"Feels good Eddie- huh- so... so deep" you hiccup, and you feel close. "Hmm so ah big" you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head when a particularly well- angled thrust deliciously hits your spongy walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? God- fuck- so gorgeous, baby. Look at you" he rambles. He's getting close.

"Oh fuck, Ed, 'mclosesoclose" you cry out and you're seriously teetering on the edge of orgasm. A few more thrusts and you'd be gone.

"Me too, sweetness, c'mon cum for me" he thrusts a couple more times and the coil snaps. You're clenching and whining and screaming his name while he follows after you, finishing inside you.

He stays there even after he's done, laying his head on your sweaty chest while you both try to stabilize your breathing.

"Feel free to disturb me whenever you want" you say, and he chuckles, giving a soft kiss to your shoulder.

taglist: honey-flustered, fracturedarkness, them-cute-boys, ancientcrone-blog, eveybitch, everythingtodayisthoroughly, jennathinker, @vampysstuff, rubyirene, floriscus, mrsmarch64, fairymunson, capricornrisingsstuff, sole-screws, helloweenfiend, flaminggarbagepail, @squigglebottom, @cozmiccass

[norrisjpg]

motion sickness - ᴍᴠ¹

in which, max feels the affects of losing his best friend.

contains: unresolved conflict, implied depression, crying, swearing, mentions of jos verstappen (AH), max losing his home grand prix, social media, happy ending.

max verstappen x unnamed female character

...

...

it definitely wasn't for the better.

driving down a pretty hillside road with the windows rolled down, soft sobs left her lips as the familiar dutch scenery blurred past her peripheral vision.

daniel had persuaded her to attend the dutch grand prix, max's home race - at least she could see him happy here, right? she could tell herself he was better off without her and move on with her life. but, she couldn't help but be a little selfish and think about her wellbeing - it was safe to say she wasn't well at all.

she had met someone - tristan, his name was.

they'd met in a bar in monaco, when she'd been dragged out of her apartment by her friends to pull her out of her grumpy state - anyone would have thought that she had gone through a devastating break-up.

you know that greek myth about soulmates? how we were seperated into two humans from one with two heads, four arms, and four legs?

max never used to believe in soulmates - platonic or romantic - but he adamant that they were meant to be, so be it friends, or hopefully lovers - she was supposed to be his, he was supposed to be hers.

but he had ruined it.

she was currently on her way to the track - it was race day in zandvoort.

qualifying had gone well in her eyes, but she knew that max would be disappointed with himself. she couldn't bring herself to face him when he visited the RB garage to see daniel, so she spent some quality time with yuki and liam instead.

max missed her, so much. he missed her hugs, her smile, her laugh, just her in general. he missed their monday evenings together, now they were spend moping around in his monaco apartment - tortured by knowing that they were only a few blocks away from each other.

tristan was in monaco, daniel claiming he only had one paddock pass left when he'd asked for her to come to the race - he'd lied, of course.

you see, he had this master plan. well, it relied on one thing actually, that both wanted each other back - which he knew was very true for the (previously) best friends. daniel would get her to come to the red bull garage after the race - claiming to have some big news, forcing the pair to confront each other and finally realise how stupid they were.

she arrived at the track two hours before the race started, parking her hire car delicately into a space near the entrance.

"hey, where are you?" daniel asked her over the phone, as she walked through the entrance to the paddock and scanned her pass.

"just coming in now." she replied bluntly, nodding as if he could see her.

"okay, come to the garage, yeah?"

she hummed a quick response before hanging up, shoving her phone back into her bag. her cheeks were slightly tear-stained, her eyes were a little bloodshoot, and her lips were a tiny bit swollen.

max, on the other hand? he was a fucking wreck.

the past few weeks had been absolute hell for him - the car looked pretty shit, mclaren were super close to them in the constructors' championship, and lando was closing in on him in the drivers' championship too - essentiallly, his whole life had gone to crap now that she wasn't in it.

the weekend couldn't have gone worse, so he thought maybe this was the universe telling him to fix the worst mistake he'd ever made.

first of all, the car was a monster, and not in a good way. the tires dropped off so quickly, the grip was atrocious, and his balance was way off. the practice sessions had proved the new lack of pace on the car, it was just so difficult to drive. then, he had lost pole position to lando — why did it have to be him?

of course, max was happy for his good friend, but why him? lando was only a couple handfuls of points behind him, and he was closing in on max's fourth world championship hopes. why couldn't it have been perez or something? well, not that he was doing too well in the car either — in all honesty, max kind of just wanted daniel back as his teammate.

but either way, max wasn't starting first — so in his mind, he was a failure, and did his father let him know that too.

"what the fuck was that?" jos had yelled at him, inside the confinement of max's driver room. "you're three tenths behind lando!"

"i know, dad—"

"god, maybe you don't deserve the seat after all this."

you don't deserve the seat.

you don't deserve the seat.

you don't deserve the seat.

max didn't really hear anything his father was rambling on about after that — he sort of just zoned out, his mind becoming a blur of static noise and foggy disappointment.

he needed her.

he knew he needed her.

he hoped she needed him.

she needed him too, right?

they had been friends for what felt like forever — meeting at an awards ceremony when they were fifteen, exchanging numbers, and it sort of went from there.

and now there was just nothing.

max felt an emptiness he'd never imagined, like the other half of his heart had been strategically cut out and burnt at the stake. but there was nothing he could do about it — well that's what he thought, because max was completely unaware that daniel had invited her to the race weekend.

so, when he thought he watched her walk into the paddock, he told himself he was seeing things. and when he thought he heard her laughing with an RB mechanic, he told himself he was hearing things.

the race rolled around very quickly, and she decided to stay in the garage. headphones over her ears, she stood with heidi berger, watching intently as the formation lap occured.

she had the same old nervous feeling in her stomach, but this time it was a lot worse. the thought that something could happen to max always ate her alive during a race, but the fact that they were also on bad terms currently? she was being burnt at the stake.

...

+ 22.896s.

that was the gap to the lead.

max verstappen had finished a pit stop behind lando norris — in second place.

he got out of his car at parc ferme, trying his best to seem happy with second place, although not too happy because otherwise that would be another thing to add to the list of things his father would have a dig at him for.

max shook hands with a few red bull mechanics, and then headed off to do some post-race interview, lying about how he was okay with second place due to the car new and unimproved pace. the podium felt lonely, max's gaze searching for her in the swarm as he plastered on a fake smile and sprayed his home crowd with champagne - but she wasn't there.

it was on his way back that it happened.

his heart was already beating fast as it was, but the pace sky-rocketed when max's miserable gaze fell on a familiar figure.

there she was, in all her melancholy mood and misery. she was here. in zandvoort. she was real. it wasn't some delusion that he was experiencing, she was here, in front of him.

his feet gained a mind of their own, walking quickly toward her stilled figure, slightly wide-eyed and definitely staring at the dutchman. max might have well collapsed into her body.

his hands tentatively found her waist, holding it as his head fell to the crook of her neck. her hands instinctively went to the back of his head and body - it was almost an involuntary action.

"i'm sorry." max murmured. "so fucking sorry."

"i'm sorry." she replied quietly, ignoring the cameras snapping and clicking around him.

"missed you so much." his voice was at a mumble, scared of what her response would be.

"me too - too much."

then something came over him. he didn't know what it was, but he lifted his head quickly and pressed his lips to hers. it was the softest, most delicate thing max had ever done - he was so hesitant during the movements it was ridiculous.

her eyes widened briefly, before closing and melting into him. the kiss was reciprocated, of course, but it stayed pure and wholesome.

he broke away first, gazing down into her eyes with a mix of pure admiration and lust.

"we need to talk." she blurted quietly, receiving a nod from max, who hummed in response.

a minute or so later, max had discarded his media duties and had headed back to his driver room with her.

"i'm sorry." she began, but max abruptly cut her off.

"no, don't apologise, i pushed you away and i was horrible and i didn't mean any of it." he rambled. "i'm the one who needs to be sorry and i am, i am so fucking sorry. the past month has been fucking awful and i miss you so much and i need you back in my life and please i'm so sorry."

"max, max, max." she stopped the man from literally pacing up and down. "calm down, breathe."

"i'm so sorry." he repeated.

"i know, i know." she nodded softly, cupping his face. "and i forgive you. you were stressed and exhausted and i know you didn't mean it - okay?"

"really?" he furrowed his eyebrows gently.

"really." she responded with a small smile. "now, i'm sorry for letting you push me away, i'd usually stand my ground and make you talk to me, but... i didn't and i'm sorry for that."

"i was never mad at you anyway." he shrugged, a small smile appearing on his lips - a real smile, the first of the month. "i can't ever stay mad at you."

"good." she blinked up at him. "now, you kissed me."

"um. yeah. sorry about that- we can just forget it if you want?" he shrugged, a little nervous at what her response was going to be.

"i mean... if you want to forget it, we can." she replied quickly, nodding her head slowly. "but, well... forgive me, but i don't really... want to."

"thank god." he breathed out, leaning down to her and catching her lips in a delicate kiss.

"max." she murmured into his lips. "i like you."

"i love you too." he replied effortlessly, the words just rolled off of his tongue before he could even realise what he'd said.

"really?" she pulled away, hands resting on his jaw as she gazed up at him.

"um." he pursed his lips. "yeah, i do."

"i love you too." she softly responded, a small smile painted on her pretty features.

"again, thank god." he laughed slightly - the first real laugh he'd let out in a while.

and he kissed her again,

and again,

and again.

this was definitely for the better.

-

guess who's the big fat fuck back!

[redsrooftopprincess]

Early

gn reader x Raphael

No warnings, just fluff

He usually comes by about halfway though his patrol. He only really gets to do it twice a week, but it is something he's begun to look forward to.

He hasn't realized yet that the first "half" of his nightly rounds has been growing shorter and shorter. That, on those nights, he's been counting the seconds until sundown, waiting at the manhole like a runner for a pistol. That, on those days, when he's supposed to be sleeping, he can't help thinking about all the things he can't wait to talk to you about.

He hasn't realized yet just how fucked he is.

He's early. Significantly. He can't help it, he's been thinking about you all day. For the last three days. You made the mistake of telling him you'd never seen the Riddick series, and he has spent the last three days coming up with a convincing argument to have a movie night with you. For the movies, of course.

He alights on the rooftop of the building across from your own, and smiles when he sees the warm light on in the living room.

A sweep of his color catches his attention as you enter the living room, hair wet as if you've just finished a shower. You are wearing the red blanket he knitted you a few months ago. As he watches you sit on the couch, and the blanket rides high up on your thigh, he realizes you are *only* wearing the blanket he knitted you a few months ago, and suddenly his shell feels way too tight.

He watches you lean over the coffee table and pick up your phone, the red knit sliding across your skin like silk. As a few stands of damp hair fall forward and you reach up to tuck them behind your ear, the blanket slips from one shoulder and his eyes can't help but follow the curve of your throat as his tongue turns to sandpaper.

You lay back on the couch, the blanket shifting to expose the skin of your side, the dip of your hips, the curve of your chest, and he's so focused on the vision in the building across from him he nearly falls off the roof when his phone vibrates.

After taking a moment to regain his footing and his composure, he looks at the phone.

You: [ETA?]

He looks back up at you. You are smiling softly as you wait for a response, red fabric draped across your bare skin, the contrast of color bringing attention to every slight shift in your position.

Fuck, you're beautiful...

You're the whole damn package, really. Smart, funny, a total knockout, what the hell are you doing spending all your time with him when you could be doing literally anything else? How could someone like you even give him the time of day?

Bruiser ♥️ : [Depends.]

He sees you make a face when you receive the message and smirks.

You: [On?]

Bruiser ♥️ : [On how much you miss me. 😏]

He sees a bright smile bloom on your face, and you laugh as you send the text, catching your tongue between your teeth.

You: [Desperately. 😭]

How were you both this fucking cute and this fucking hot at the same time? It can't be legal. A grin brakes across his features as well.

Bruiser ♥️ : [Be there in 5.]

....

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

[nataliasquote]

Mustang | cowgirl nat au

Summary: The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind?

Warnings: Natasha is a hot cowgirl, cowboy slang

wc: 4.3k

note: this is for all the cowgirl Nat simps out there (yes you know who you are @katyaromanoffpetrova ). And also for @milfs69420 who drew the inspiration for cowgirl Nat in this scene (i’m obsessed with that drawing no joke). I hope this lives up to expectations!

-⧗-

A loud yell echoed across the grassy plain, rising above the sound of thundering hooves and the distant shriek of a stream train whistle. One lone rider, racing across fields she knew like the back of her hand. Strong thighs squeezed the flanks of the midnight horse beneath her as she raised her arms above her head and tilted her face up to the sky, letting the golden rays of the sun soak into her skin. Not once did her balance falter, years of riding making her feel like an extension of the steed beneath her. Her cheeks started to burn with how hard she was smiling, so she placed both hands back on the reins and kicked her horse to speed up.

There really was nothing that Natasha loved more than riding. It was her escape, her outlet, her way of breaking away from her usual daily duties. Was she out on her horse a bit too often? Her father would say yes. But if there was one thing Natasha Romanoff hated, it was being told what to do.

She’d caught up with the train rolling steadily along the tracks and Natasha leaned forwards, scarlet hair, tied in a single braid, flying behind her from under her hat as she raced beside it, trying to keep up. She could feel the muscles of her horse flexing with every stride they took and the rusted green walls of the carriage were almost in reach of her fingertips if she stretched out towards it. The smoke puffing out of the chimney tainted the air that she breathed in, but she barely noticed it through her euphoria. She knew where this train was headed, towards the larger cities, so she broke away and turned back to her hometown, slowing up as they trotted under the town’s welcome sign.

Most walked their horses through the streets on foot, but Natasha stayed seated, guiding her horse through the swarms of townspeople and down to the large house at the end of the main street. She hopped down and tied him to the fence temporarily, making sure he had enough hay and water before she strolled into the house.

Not even bothering to take her boots off, Natasha waltzed into the kitchen and flopped down on a chair. She tossed her hat onto the table and let out a sigh, staring at the small red symbol on the front of her hat.

“Natasha,” a gruff voice called after her. She rolled her eyes. “Where the hell were you?”

“Out,” was all she replied. She didn’t turn around but could feel her father’s eyes boring into the back of her skull. And his disapproving tone was nothing she wasn’t familiar with.

“You were supposed to be home two hours ago, for the opening ceremony.” Without looking at him, she knew how he was standing. Arms folded across his chest as he took up almost the entire doorway. “Yelena was upset you weren’t there.”

Natasha scoffed. “No she wasn’t, she couldn’t care less.”

“I felt betrayed, actually.” Great, now her sister had joined in. “You’re always choosing Liho over me, don’t you feel my pain?”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Natasha deadpanned, wanting nothing more than some peace and quiet.

But that was a rarity as the mayor’s daughter. Her whole life was scrutinized, and many people disapproved of her non-traditional ways. “Is there anything else required of me? Or can I leave now?”

Yelena appeared in the corner of her vision, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Well, I was going to ask if you would come by the range, seeing as you-“

“Ok, so that’s a no.”

“Natasha, be nice to her please. It’s Yelena’s big day!” Alexei’s voice seemed to be in constant ‘public speaker’ mode, which was fine for pretty much everything except quiet conversations in the kitchen. He was too close, and Natasha scraped her chair back and reached for a glass to fill up from the pitcher of sweet tea on the table. Reluctantly, she offered one to Yelena, who accepted with a soft smile. Alexei took their ignorance of his statement to disappear back to his office, and Natasha breathed a small sigh of relief.

“I knew you liked me really.” Natasha deadpanned her comment but Yelena only stifled her giggle behind a sip, the sweet beverage coating her tastebuds deliciously. “I’m not mad, it’s fine. But promise me you’ll shoot this week?”

“I was planning to anyway,” Natasha admitted. “Do you have riding targets too?”

Yelena let out a ‘ha’ and leaned back in her chair, chin tilted towards the window. “What do you take me for, an amateur? That’s like asking if Barton sells beer.”

“Speaking of, fancy a drink?” Yelena gestured to her half full glass with an eyebrow raised. “I was going to go down to Barton’s if you want to join me?”

Yelena thought for a moment, watching a lone ice cube float around her glass. “I would, but I promised Kate I’d meet her at the stables and you know what she’s like if I cancel on her.”

“Suit yourself,” said Natasha. Ok, so maybe she did feel a little remorse over missing the ceremony, but never would she admit that out loud. “I’ll see you later. Oh, and tell Ma to not wait up for me at dinner. I’ll sort myself out.”

“Roger that,” Yelena gave a mock salute and Natasha just rolled her eyes in jest. She grabbed her hat, slipped it on her head and wandered back out of the door, but not before she slipped a few snacks for her horse. Liho was still waiting patiently for her and he swished his tail as he approached, rather fed up of just standing around in the sun.

As Natasha brushed him down and gave the stable a quick tidy, her mind wandered back to the open grassland. What she’d give to never return home, just riding to her heart's content and staying in whatever town she came across. Or just sleeping under the stars, listening to the howls of the coyotes and the thundering hooves of wild horses echoing behind the mountains on the horizon. She craved the freedom that the cowboys had and the small taste she could get would never suffice; she lusted for more.

With a small threat to Peter, the stablehand, to not hurt Liho, Natasha wandered back into the town centre, stopping off at the ammunition store on her way for a magazine refill. She shot the test targets to pieces purely for the fun of it, knowing her aim was impeccable. The owner just rolled his eyes but let her continue; this behaviour was expected. After all, Alexei was a well respected and slightly feared man, which rubbed off onto his daughters too. And Natasha’s fiery temperament was almost as famous as her father was. No one with any brains would ever challenge her to a duel if they wanted to keep their life.

The redhead’s eyes cast over the centre-most building, the brim of her hat concealing the sign on the front. But she didn’t need words to tell her what it was- she knew her second favourite place like the back of her hand. The heels of her boots clicked against the tiled floor as she pushed the wooden saloon doors to swing open, hitting the walls beside them with a crack.

With her hat still dipped low, she paused, surveying the entirety of the room in one fast sweep. Partially content with what she saw, Natasha tipped her hat from her head and tucked it under her arm, feeling strands from her messy braid to fall and frame her face. Green eyes darted across every familiar face, occasionally leading to the subtle tug of a smile to play on her lips if she felt particularly fond of someone, but not many had that blessing. She didn’t pay two minds to the rest of the townspeople once she’d locked on the one person who didn’t think she was completely crazy.

Wild yet utterly desirable, Natasha somehow held every single person captive within her presence. The general chattering subsided as she moved between the tables, even the men who spent their days airing their lungs over bottles of brandy and rum paused their drinking to take a good look at her. If Natasha even cared, she’d be repulsed, but noticing the way the men of the town looked at her had become a thing of the past. She would never settle down so why bother?

The red velvet-topped bar stools were smooth under her jeans as Natasha slid onto one, her hat coming to rest atop the wooden bar. She unbuttoned the cuffs of her green plaid shirt and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her forearms with a sigh.

“Didn’t see you at Yelena’s gun range opening today,” the bartender commented as he slid an open bottle of beer in Natasha’s direction. He knew her well, and he should, as her childhood best friend. And Natasha may be unpredictable but her beer choices never wavered.

“Oh don’t tell me you were there too. I swear, if one more person asks me about that I’m going to put a bullet in someone’s head.” Her hand fell to her holster for effect, making the bartender step back, hands raised in surrender. Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked before taking a sip of her beer. “My Pa gave me an earful when I was barely through the door. I don’t see why it matters, Barton, it’s just an opening.”

Clint threw the tea towel he was holding into the sink over his shoulder. “I’m just talking, but she’s your sister, so isn’t it in your duties to go to that kind of thing?”

Natasha shot him an unimpressed look, her brow bone casting a shadow across her eyes in the dim light. “You mean that as her sister, or as the mayor’s daughter? I plan on using the range anyway, so why do I need to show my face now? It’s not even about me.” She puffed out her cheeks and rested her chin on the hand that was placed on the beer bottle rim. “If I was Lena, I’d be happy my sister didn’t show up. She can have the spotlight for a change.”

“Where did you go, exactly?” Clint was the only one who would listen to Natasha’s tales, so he just let her talk whilst he worked. Gave him something refreshing to think about instead of his unruly customers.

“I caught wind of a new group riding out by the Ridge yesterday, so I wanted to check it out. Saw nothing but Ol’ Joe moving his cattle. Swear that man digs for his cannon ev’ry chance he gets.”

“Well, he’s not the best with people,” said Clint, only realising afterwards that he’d just stated the obvious. “Is that what you want though? A group like that?”

Natasha pursed her lips. She hadn’t thought through the logistics of what her future looked like, she knew it involved a lot more open space and a lot less… people. “Not a group, I couldn’t handle that.”

“Nat, you know it’s not safe out there on your own. You need your home, a family.” Clint was family orientated to the core, but the same couldn’t be said for Natasha. “You know it’s even worse for women.”

“I can handle myself,” Natasha scoffed, feeling rather put out by his insinuation. “I don’t need a bunch of asshat guys telling me what to do!

“I know, but-“

“If I wanted an argument, I would have stayed at home,” she pointed out. Clint’s mouth opened before he closed it with a huff, thinking better than to protest again. Natasha’s hands tugged her hair out of her braid, reveling in the feeling of it falling loose around her shoulders.

She chewed on her lip, trying to suppress the anxious feeling bubbling low in her stomach. With each passing day, the small town life rattled her and the walls of the village seemed to close in. It had taken root in her chest since she was a child, that feeling of longing never quite subsiding.

Clint moved off to serve customers further down the bar, leaving the redhead lost in her own mind. Slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the glass bottle.

What did she want? Natasha knew how her dreams played out, but Clint was right; where was her stability? The thought of being alone was heavenly, but that was coming from someone who had never truly experienced it. She’d been surrounded by people since the day she was born, and those fleeting moments of freedom with just Liho for company were the best she’d felt.

But what did a future full of that entail? She’d idealised it to the point where she was biased, getting defensive whenever anyone tried to make her see sense. She may not see eye to eye with her father anymore, but the stubbornness she inherited from him was a clear determiner of her roots and more importantly, her home.

A cacophony of whistles erupted from the tables behind her, snapping her out of her spiral and Natasha turned on her stool to take a look at the source of the commotion. A woman stood in the doorway, dressed similarly to Natasha, which was rather uncommon in this town. Most of the women wore skirts, so seeing another in jeans that wasn’t Natasha, Yelena or Kate had heads turning.

Natasha watched the way the stranger’s hand instinctively flew to her holster as her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, a bitter contrast to the sun blazed street just outside. The saloon was always kept dark, just the way Natasha liked it, but it did look a bit intimidating from an outsider’s perspective.

Ignoring the outstretched hands of drunk men that grabbed at her from their seats at the closest tables, the woman picked her way through the crowd, her hips swaying in her jeans and brown fringed chaps as she rounded the final table and slumped down onto a stool. Natasha peered at Clint out of the corner of her eye and tried to hide her smile, taking a long sip of her beer bottle as the stranger sat four seats over.

“What’s the strongest stuff you’ve got?” The stranger asked Clint, her hat still sat squarely on her head. A strange move in Natasha’s eyes, but it added to the air of mystery around her and the redhead couldn’t help but watch her reflection in the glass opposite.

“I’ve got a couple bottles of whiskey if that’s what you’re after?”

“I’ll get a glass of that, thanks.”

Natasha pulled a face, impressed. “Going for the hard stuff, I see.”

The stranger didn’t turn her head, keeping her eyes down and focussed on her hands that rested atop the bar. “Something like that.”

There was something different about her, something refreshing. Natasha stood up, grabbed her beer bottle and wandered down the bar, now appearing on the seat beside the stranger. She leaned on the bar, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the curve of her hips in her jeans. The stranger’s head moved slightly, trying to get the best view of Natasha that she could.

Clint read his friend’s body language like he was fluent, and quickly swapped her bottles so she was presented with a fresh drink. Natasha waited a couple of seconds before striking up conversation again, not put out by the stranger’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Is this seat taken?”

The stranger shook her head and scooted over, nursing her glass of whiskey with both hands. She was nervous and guarded and Natasha saw the twitch of her fingers that seemed uncontrollable.

“I’ve not seen you before. You not from around here?” Her southern drawl was laid on thick, emphasising the rasp in her voice that came out when she spoke properly. Natasha’s skill set didn’t stop at shooting. She was incredibly proficient at flirting and Clint loved to just stand back and watch her pick her next target that wandered into his bar.

The stranger finally turned to Natasha and lifted her hat from her head, revealing her face and piercing eyes that bore into Natasha’s. “Is it that obvious I’m not from around here?”

Natasha laughed around the rim of her bottle and readjusted her stance, using her movement as a way to take in the woman with a quick flick up and down. “I know my people,” she replied, gesturing to the full tables behind them. Her eyes fell to the stranger’s lips. “And I’d remember a face like yours, darlin’.”

The mysterious woman’s cheeks flushed red and she took a swig of whiskey, welcoming the burn that flooded her chest. The hot feeling racing through her body was purely alcohol induced… wasn’t it?

The brunette ducked her head down, embarrassed. “I’m only passing through. Had to stop off at the stables to get my horse’s hooves checked. Ran across a thorn patch, she did.”

“Well, Bishops’ will take good care of her. And in the meantime, does the gorgeous woman have a pretty name to match?”

Whiskey was by far the best choice she could have made- it could account for the now permanent flush that took residence in her cheeks. The woman turned on her stool and let her knees fall open loosely, her body language much less guarded.

“I’m Y/n. And you are..?”

“Natasha Romanoff, at your service.” The redhead quickly put her hat on and tipped it forwards, eliciting a laugh from the woman opposite. Clint eyed their interaction as he dried some glasses, grinning to himself at how effective Natasha’s charm truly was. She turned it on with the tip of her hat and a flash of her smile, making men and women alike stop dread in their tracks.

“You’re the mayor’s daughter?” Something flashed across Y/n’s eyes but it was gone as quickly as it came and Natasha couldn’t decipher it.

“Yeah,” she trailed off, frowning slightly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” Y/n gave her a smile, nodding to the stool beside her. Natasha sat far too quickly, like an obedient dog. One glance from a gorgeous woman had turned her to mush- what was happening?

A couple of loud thuds resonated from the back of the room and Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who sat there regularly. “Hey, Romanoff, give us a dance, will ya?” A leering voice echoed above the general hum of conversation and Y/n watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted her gun that sat in a holster on her hip.

“Give it up, Stark, you’re barking at a knot.” The man in question jeered at her and banged his beer bottle on the barrel table, several men around him doing the same. “If you wanna watch me dance, you better pay me for it.” This only gained her more nonsensical yelling and a man on Stark’s table threw a dollar bill in her direction.

But Natasha just stood up, squared her shoulders and fired her handgun in their direction, the bullet slamming into the wall mere inches above Stark’s head. She blew the smoke off her gun with a cocky smirk and shoved it back in the holster. The entire saloon fell silent, aside from Clint’s mutterings about yet another hole to fix thanks to his fiery friend.

Natasha waited a second longer, almost daring Stark and his guys to test her again. But they didn’t, now only watching her warily as she turned back to her new woman who was watching with a slack jaw. Natasha felt a burst of pride surge through her chest and she puffed it out slightly, sinking down into her seat with one foot up on the footrest, her legs manspreading.

“I’m sorry about that, that was no way to treat a new lady.”

Y/n snickered, shaking her head. “Oh please, I ain’t a lady. I’ve seen worse men than that in towns over, they really never change.”

Natasha’s gaze had drifted to the way the brunette’s hair fell over her shoulder, and how soft it looked despite being so exposed to the elements. But at the mention of different towns she snapped, eyes wide.

“You’ve visited other towns?” She tried to keep her cool, but there was truly no hiding her excitement. This woman had everything Natasha wanted and more.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s face change. “But I ain’t got much work at the moment. There’s not many people that trust a woman to do what a man can do.”

“So you’re just… floating between towns?”

Y/n nodded, taking a sip of her whiskey. “Yup, it’s just me and my girl. And the occasional over-friendly landlord who tries to get up in my business.”

Natasha’s mind was racing like a mustang. She felt almost childish, wanting to hear stories of her travels and what the world was really like. Y/n could see her curiosity, it was too apparent to mask, and it was like a breath of fresh air. All too often she was met with disapproving glances and was often the butt of circulating gossip, housewives and prostitutes judging her uncommon way of life. But she was happy, and no one was about to take that away from her.

“Where are you from?”

Y/n’s smile faltered and she traced the rim of her now empty whisky glass. “I don’t think about that. Doesn’t matter where I’m from, I’m never going back. There’s nothing for me there. My life is out here now.”

“I wish,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Y/n heard it but didn’t comment. After all, they were just two strangers in a bar, nothing more.

“So, if you’re the mayor’s girl, you must know what there is to do around here.” Her words had an element of teasing to them, which didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha.

Natasha shook her head with a laugh. Ten minutes in and already poking fun at who she was. Why was that so attractive? “There’s a barn dance later if you want to come?” Natasha suggested. “That is, if you’re sticking around for that long.”

“I’ve got a compelling reason to now,” Y/n teased, toying with the hints Natasha had been sending her way.

Natasha quirked her brow and raised an arm behind her head, her bicep flexing slightly under her scrunched up shirt sleeves. “Well, I never turn down the chance to take a pretty girl to a dance.”

“Sounds like you have experience.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes in playful accusation “Is that a problem to you?”

“Not at all. I like a woman who knows what she’s doing.” Her words were heavy and even Clint raised his eyebrows, having been listening in to their conversation whilst he polished glasses.

“Then you’re in for a real treat, darlin’.” Natasha held eye contact and took a swig of her beer, licking her lip as a drop escaped. Y/n stared back at her and then coughed, using that as her excuse to look away. Anyone could feel the air shift and Clint walked away, shaking his head with a smile. God, Natasha certainly knew how to play this game.

“Where did you say you were staying?” Natasha continued, probing yet more information out of the poor woman.

“Here, actually,” Y/n answered, gesturing towards the door that led to the small assortment of lodgings that the saloon housed “ ‘S the only place willing to take someone like me.”

“Barton!” The man in question looked around guiltily. “Keeping things from me now, are we?”

“You were out! When was I gonna tell ya?”

Natasha grunted and jutted her chin out at him, furious that he’d watched their interaction knowing exactly who this woman was. And Y/n found the whole ordeal rather funny, having made the connection that they knew each other a little while ago.

“Well, if you’re stayin’ here, I know where to pick you up later.”

“Inviting me to a dance and picking me up? Do all foreign girls get this treatment from you?”

Natasha winked coyly, sliding her hat along the bar where she’d left it. “Only the special ones.”

“Oh you’re flannel-mouthed!” Y/n exclaimed, to which Natasha only shrugged cockily. “I’ll be waitin’. Right here, so don’t be late.”

“Roger that,” Natasha responded, mimicking Yelena from earlier. She stood up with a flourish, placed her hat on her head and took Y/n’s hand to place a kiss on the back of it, treating her like a proper lady. Clint wolf whistled her, receiving an insult thrown his way before Natasha had disappeared back through the doors she’d come through, leaving them swinging back and forth with the momentum.

“She’s a wild one, watch out.” Clint nodded after the redhead, silently laughing to himself at her dramatics. Always one for the exits, she was.

But Y/n didn’t even notice his amusement. She was gazing at the gunshot hole left in the wall across the room, and more specifically, thinking about the woman that put it there.

“The wilder the better, I always say,” was all she replied, her mind now miles away. Sure, she said that about horses, but Y/n was starting to think that applied to the women she surrounded herself with too.

[teal-fiend]

You lean forward on the porch railing, cigarette dangling between your fingers as you survey the street. Your eyes, predatory in nature, can see every detail in the darkened trees, bushes, and mailboxes. Your friend’s night vision however, is not as competent. 

The evening's warm, the kind of night that feels thick with vice and contentment. 

Adding to that; Your belly is still a little heavy from your last feeding. It's barely a bump now—hardly noticeable—but you know it's there. Maybe someone with some discernment would be able to tell, too. Though Most people would think you’re just a bit chubby in the middle. Or bloated for a less sinister reason, than the fact that you ate someone a few days ago and you were still in the process of digesting them. 

But you imagined by tomorrow your gut would be all finished, and there’d be no indication at all that your prey was ever inside you. Feels good now, though. A lingering fullness. You haven’t felt the need to eat all day, you’re already set. 

In this period of resting and digesting, arose the perfect opportunity to socialise. Or more specifically, gossip. 

"You should have seen her," you mutter, flicking ash. "Dressed like she was going to some red carpet event, not a ‘date night’ at Denny’s - on a Tuesday, by the way. Like what the fuck is up with that?"

You pass the cig. Your friend raises an eyebrow, glancing over at you… and down at your… ex...? (does it count if you only went out once?) as they take a drag of their own. “Oh, and I’m sure you would never do anything remotely tacky. Like, I don’t know…eating your date?”

You narrow your eyes at them, "Excuse me?"

"Just saying," they reply, a savoir-faire smile slipping out. "Everyone’s got their flaws. Some people dress a bit extra on a date; others leave with a full belly."

You scoff, the irritation simmering. "What, and you're some saint? You don't even get it." You take your cigarette back and press it to your lips, inhaling sharply (before coughing grossly). "For your information, she practically begged to come back to my place - she knew what she was getting into."

“Uh-huh,” they reply, smiling. “Sure, if that’s how you want to rationalise it.”

“Go to hell.” You turn, crossing your arms, suddenly very aware of the slight curve at your middle. If your digestion hadn’t taken so long, you’d have a flat stomach by now. Maybe it was the dress. You coughed it up only yesterday. 

Was it… tacky to eat your date? You supposed, it was kind of stereotypical, for a pred. 

"Come on," they chuckle. "I mean hey, I’m just telling you how it is. You’re out here, Eating the person who agreed to go out with you. And you’re being picky about her fashion choices? Glass houses, and all that."

You glare at them, but they take your cigarette and blow out a lazy plume of smoke, thoroughly amused at your expense. You simmer in irritation, shifting your weight onto your other foot. 

The silence between you and your friend settles—until your gut cuts in with a deep, rolling gurgle, loud enough to break it.

You flush, hoping your friend doesn’t comment, but they do, laughing, “ I guess she’s not too happy with what you’ve been saying about her. Maybe she wants to give her side of the story.” 

You scowl, folding your arms tighter across your stomach. The sound goes off again, a long groan that practically echoes in the night. Your gut must be pushing your meal along now. But could it not be so loud? Now was not a good time.

"Real mature," you mutter, kicking ash at your feet, trying to ignore the heat prickling in your cheeks. "She’s not saying anything.”

"Those tummy growls seem to say otherwise," your friend teases, tilting their head down at your inflamed middle,  “She seems a little unsettled about this whole ‘formal attire’ critique… 

I mean, I’d think you would come to appreciate her taste by now… all things considered.”

You shoot them an unamused look, but your stomach gives an almost petulant glorp, as if it's agreeing with them. They just laugh, delighted, and lean back on the railing, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You give your belly a pointed pat. "She's got nothing left to say. Trust me."

But your friend just grins, eyes gleaming with humour as your belly gives another rhythmic groan. "Uh-huh. sure.”

As your friend’s laughter tapers off, you feel an odd little twinge in your stomach. At first, you ignore it, brushing it off as just a slight bit of indigestion, but the feeling only intensifies—an unease right below your ribs. You shift on your feet, putting a hand over your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Your friend looks over to you, their expression switching to concern. “Are you alright there? Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset your stomach.”

You put a hand over your mouth, not knowing what to expect. With a lurch, you spit up something small and metallic, clinking as it lands in your open palm.

It’s a delicate, gold earring, with a little white gem in the centre—one of hers. You stare down at it, your face heating as you remember her fingers brushing over it just last night, laughing as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. You didn’t think much of it then.

Your friend peers over, curious. “Well, well. Looks like she left you a little souvenir.” They observe it carefully, and look down at you, “I wonder if the other one is still in there.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pocketing the earring with a scowl on your face. You press your hand against your stomach again, to gauge whether anything else is thinking about coming back up. 

“Maybe you should remove them first next time,” they suggest, “I hear eating prey with jewellery on can give you indigestion.”

“Helpful.” you mutter through gritted teeth.

[aayakashii]

Ed pissed me off when he called MC plain with not a whiff of sensuality so I'm putting him on his place now by frustrating him

Warning: NSFW !!! MINORS DNI !!!

cherry hard candy

Rui had left the bar in your hands once again, and Ed sighed dramatically as he realized it upon entering the room. Despite that, he still made his way to sit on a stool, grouching and murmuring about how he needed to eat, that Rui was supposed to feed him and how you would never cook food as good as him.

He saw how you rolled our eyes at him, and a hint of amusement grew in his chest at your annoyance.

Oh, how he loved seeing the way youngins reacted to his quips, always so full of energy and easy to cross.

He shut up, however, once you poured him a drink and he began to sip it slowly, getting lost in thought about the things he wanted to watch later that day.

Ed noticed, after a while, the way you moved in his peripheral vision, sitting on the bar stool beside him and lazily reaching your arm in his direction.

He turned his head to see what could that silly human want with him, when he was met with your index and middle finger pointing upwards and your palm facing him, as a sudden scent of copper drifted in the air that surrounded you both.

Small droplets of crimson slowly dripped down from your fingers towards your palm, staining your skin in red. A deep cut ran through both of your fingers, and he observed how, right behind you, a knife was stained in blood.

What the hell were you planning?

Ed paused for a second and stared at your extremely bored expression. You nodded towards your hand and waved it lightly as if to make your point clear, blood smearing a bit more against your skin at the movement.

His traitorous hands trembled as he reached out to grab you, clearly unable to pretend he was nonchalant about that whole ordeal.

His fangs grew longer and sharper, and he panted against your skin, tongue lolling out of his chapped lips, the metallic smell making his nose tingle and his stomach churn in anticipation.

It's been so long since he drank human blood.

He had to be content with tears and the blood of random anomalies Rui brought to be used in his bar, but none of it could ever match up to the thick richness of the wine that ran inside humans' veins.

As the tip of his tongue touched your bloodied skin, Edward rolled his eyes unconsciously, and a desperate moan left his lips. His grip tightened, nails digging a bit too deeply into your pulse, and he felt the steady and fast beat of your heart, pumping that delicious blood in your body.

It would be so easy to rip your throat apart and drink you dry, take this chance that was presented to him on a silver platter before you became an anomaly and your blood became dull and disgusting... But he was no brute and there would be no end to the tortures Darkwick would impose on him as punishment for the capital sin of murder.

Ed moaned as his tongue licked in between your fingers, coating your hand in his saliva before he finally reached the cut that bled for him.

He unconsciously got up from his seat on the bar stool, and leaned his body against yours, his hips pressed flush against your crossed legs.

You felt the way he began grinding his growing bulge against your thigh as he moaned and whined, nicking your skin lightly to draw more blood.

You smiled triumphantly, getting a sick sense of satisfaction from the way in which that centuries old powerful being was acting like a desperate slut after having just a little taste of your blood.

His lips finally closed in on your cut, sucking your fingers like hard candy and, not long after, he came undone – a low whimper slipped from his mouth as you felt a dampness form against your thigh while he humped your leg like an animal in heat.

Ed came hard as his hips bucked shamelessly and erratically against your body, the sticky white liquid making a huge stain on his pants.

Why were you not surprised that the vampire had an oral fixation kink?

The clarity that came after his orgasm made him let go of your hand, your wound long healed by his saliva's coagulating properties.

He panted, pale skin flushed red, and he blinked, clearly not believing his own unbecoming behavior.

"U-um..." he mumbled, unable to find proper words.

You smirked and got up, wordlessly, making your way towards the bar's door, with him following you with a confused and needy gaze – the tent in his pants making it clear that he still wanted more from you.

You hummed, dramatically acting as if you were in deep thought.

"Who would've thought that the plain person with no whiff of sensuality would make you act like this, huh, Ed?" you said, victoriously, as you opened the door and left him behind, frustrated and confused.

You had to wash your hands.

They reeked of vampire.

Masterlist link

[riririnnnn]

These Itoshi brothers are going to be my end one day.

Every time I'm like, "Yay, I made a sensible theory. I'll stick to it now," these two always whack me out of nowhere. It's like they love to go, "🗣️📢 HELL NAH❗HE-HE-HELL NAH❗"

Anyway, so I was re-reading Rin's part in the LN, and I realised something:

So, after Sae left for Spain, there was a visible decline in the performance of both Rin and their Soccer Youth Club. Rin says it's because he could see the goal path and stuffs, BUT his teammates couldn't and the only person who could match his vision was, of course, Sae.

That's why Rin had to change his playstyle to match that of the Team's. He began passing instead of waiting for a pass and all. Things starts to get better, and the whole team starts to get their glory days back.

There was a line in the LN which goes something like, "The teammates thought they were playing good, but they were actually just playing in strings of Rin's. Rin was controlling everything."

He then goes, "This is tough and Nii-chan was doing this all along? Nii-chan was holding back. That's why he chose to go to Spain, so he can play the way he wants."

See.

THIS

is exactly where my brain started to churn.

So, Sae was in that soccer club since way long, and he was legit considered as the pillar of it or something. However, all these years, he was, in fact, holding back himself and when he got to go to Spain, he thought like, "Yes! Finally! I can show the world what I got," but sadly, he found out he just wasn't it.

Maybe it could be because he played UNLIKE his real self for so long that he forgot himself.

OR

He just wasn't that good as he thought he was. He found out that he was the Frog in the well.

HOWEVER.

He still had Rin back home, and he trusted him because he knew about his younger brother's true potential or impulses.

So time passed and the day of the U-15 Championship Finals came.

Reminder: Sae was scouted by Real Madrid/Re Al when he won in the U-15 Championship alongside Rin. That's why it was really important for Rin to win that Final match too.

What I said above was a fact Sae, probably, knew too. That's why he came a whole day AHEAD of his schedule to watch the younger Itoshi play with his own eyes (Rin had pointed out that Sae was supposed to come a day after).

But, surprisingly, what Sae saw was what he feared— he saw Rin play the way he himself used to. He was probably like, "I sacrificed everything for you and you became exactly what I sacrificed myself for you to NOT be."

Reminder: Rin gets into his real flow state/becomes berserk during the LAST three minutes of the whole game.

Which gives us two possibilities:

Firstly, Sae just gets up and leave without seeing Rin's berserk mode. After which he comes back to confront him once the match is over.

Secondly, Sae stayed the whole match and saw Rin's berserk mode and was somewhat relieved to know that the younger Itoshi hadn't completely lost his true self. After which the confrontation proceeds.

I don't want to say much about their reunion in this post, but I do want to add another perspective to why Sae challenged Rin for a 1V1:

Sae, probably, had thought that, "I couldn't beat the world and if you can't even beat me, then you are nothing in this world."

That's it, I guess.

.

.

.

I really wish for a Itoshi brothers spin-off because it's hinted that they had a big shared room, so I really want to see how everything is like after Sae returns from Spain.

[mydearzero]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 | 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: What once was an innocent crush on a coworker quickly turned into a full blown infatuation with your boss. She could reprimand you all she wanted, but did she have to wear red while doing so?

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, unit chief!Emily, SMUT, coworkers, very slight dom/sub undertones, office sex, oral sex, grinding, fingering, power imbalance (boss), canon compliant violence, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.8K words

it's here folks, enjoy. let's just ignore that everything about emily screams woman lover to build tension okay. this was the quickest 2.8K I've written in a long time so uh yeah do with that info what you will (I'm horny for Emily) - nik

You hadn't had the opportunity to work with Emily Prentiss before she left the team to work for Interpol. You'd only just missed each other, you joining mere weeks after she'd left. 

Her reputation preceded her. The team was overly fond of her, even after having faked her own death. You'd seen a picture here or there, but nothing could live up to the Emily Prentiss who met you in New York for the Copycat Killer case. 

She'd been in a relationship with some guy Mark, so you'd really tried to look the other way. But when Hotch went on temporary leave during the whole Scratch situation, she volunteered to rejoin. The day she stepped foot in the bullpen, you knew you were in trouble. 

You could ignore the heat rushing to your face and your hands getting clammy. You could ignore the knowing glances JJ gave you. You could even ignore the digs Luke sent your way once he'd figured out something was going on. What you couldn't ignore, however, was the story Emily was telling while having had one too many drinks. 

"-and my girlfriend at the time freaked out. I tried to tell her it was a fake, but she was already halfway to crying in my arms." 

The words repeated over and over again in your head. 

Girlfriend. 

Her. 

She. 

You could handle an unattainable crush. Hell. Who hadn't had a crush on a straight girl at least once in their life? But knowing Emily played for both teams changed things. It made your irrational feelings rational. You completely lost the ability to look her in the eyes after that. 

You tried to not let your feelings get in the way of your job. The work the BAU did was too important to let that happen. 

It didn't last long. 

An adrenaline rush got the better of you while attempting to talk down an UnSub. But what were you supposed to do? He'd held a gun to Emily's head. One wrong move and it would've been over. You couldn't take that chance. 

Your ears were ringing as tunnel vision took over. The grimy scenery of the warehouse faded into the background. The dripping of the leaking pipes was deafened by your heartbeat. The UnSub's words were drowned out by Emily's haggard breathing. She was scared. 

You did what you had to. You took the shot. The man had dropped to the floor, but not before firing a storm of bullets in your direction, only missing by a few inches. 

While you'd been lucky nobody had been hurt, the same couldn't be said about the team's reactions to your actions. The flight back to Quantico had been short but tense. You wouldn't be hearing the end of this for quite some time to come. 

Though you knew the team would be on edge around you for some time, you hadn't expected what would happen on the very next case. 

"You're off the case." Emily's words were blunt. 

"What? Why?" You questioned. You'd expected to have to take a psych evaluation. Maybe even redo your gun qualifications. But to be put on the bench? Especially on a local case? 

"We've profiled this UnSub as highly unpredictable. I can't have you take uncalculated risks in the field. I appreciate all the work you've done so far, but this is where I need you to step back." Emily looked apologetic. 

"The last case was different! I can stay back here with Penelope. Just let me help, Emily, please," you pleaded. Damn your inability to be mad at her. You couldn't, not when she wore that damn red top that complimented her complexion (and boobs) so well. 

"I'm sorry. We'll talk when we get back." 

Penelope wouldn't let you into her office, so you resorted to catching up on paperwork at your desk. You could've left and taken this as a sign to get some free time. Yet you stayed right there, waiting. 

When Penelope finally left her office with her stuff, ready to go home, you knew the case was over. She asked you to late dinner, but you declined, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. She waved a short goodbye before stepping into the elevator, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 

It wasn't long before the elevator moved again, doors opening to reveal Emily Prentiss. Just Emily Prentiss. You frowned as she walked into the bullpen, nodding at her office, signalling you to follow her. 

"Where's the rest?" You wondered, walking through the door and taking a seat across from the desk. Emily shut the door and turned to close the shutters. 

"I sent them home. We'll debrief in the morning," was all she said. 

She gestured to the chair across from hers. You sat, unsure of what to expect next. 

"I think we need to talk about what happened in New York," Emily left it an open statement. She obviously expected you to do the talking. 

"I'm aware my actions didn't look thought through. And maybe they weren't. But I was worried about what he would do to you," you were honest about what had gone down. 

"Worried or not, there are protocols we need to follow. You put everybody in that room in danger by making that choice. How is that any better than having me potentially get shot?" 

You really tried to focus. It was a serious and consequential discussion. But it was at that moment you realized you'd never actually been alone with Emily. You rubbed your hands on your thighs, trying to rid them of their clammyness and the tension that built in your body. 

"I don't know," was your final reply. A weak one, at that. Emily searched your face for answers. She noted the sheen covering your skin and dilated pupils. You felt scrutinized under her gaze. She squinted, slowly leaning back and crossing her arms. 

You hadn't meant to look, but the action brought the red top back to your attention. Your eyes dropped to Emily's cleavage, if only for a second. Your mouth went dry as they quickly snapped back up to meet her now amused ones. A coy smile crept onto her face. Emily took a deep breath before speaking again. This time, you knew better, only looking in your peripheral at how her chest raised and fell. 

"You know, earlier, you mentioned the last case was different. How come?" Emily inquired. She'd caught that, huh? You felt trapped as you figured she'd deduced the real reason for your careless actions.  

You didn't speak as Emily rose from her chair, taking slow strides around the desk. She placed a hand on your shoulder, standing behind you and leaning over the other. Goosebumps raised on your arms as you felt her warm breath against your collar. 

"I think I know," she whispered in your ear. You unconsciously craned your neck, allowing her more access. Your heart beat rapidly. The hand on your shoulder slowly trailed down your arm, rubbing up and down. 

"Would you have taken the shot if it had been JJ? Or Spencer? Or maybe you would've taken it if it were Garcia. You're such great friends, after all," Emily's tone was taunting. The rising temperature of the room was quickly becoming unbearable. 

Her free hand reached for your chin, turning your head to face her. She cupped your cheek gently, admiring the sight of your desperation. She'd barely even touched you. Barely implied anything. 

"Is this what your strange behaviour lately has been about?" Emily asked. You bit your lip, not saying a word. She clicked her tongue, getting annoyed at your lack of response.  

"Is this not what you want?" She walked around the chair, standing in front of you. You couldn't give in. You wouldn't be able to stop. Not if she gave you a taste. Your hands remained firmly planted by your side as Emily did the unthinkable. She put her hands on your shoulders and draped her legs over yours, straddling you. Your eyes closed at the sensation of having her so close. 

The weight of her ass on your thighs was delectable. Her hands trailed down your arms, stopping when they rested on yours. She leaned forward, and you had to suppress a groan at the feeling of her chest pushing against yours. She took your hands and brought them around herself, planting them firmly on her bottom. Your entire body was on fire. 

"Look at me," Emily's voice was sultry. You opened your eyes tentatively, immediately dropping them to her lips, which were now dangerously close to yours. She didn't hesitate, kissing you roughly. Her hands came up to cup your face. You finally gave in, properly holding her on your lap as she fervidly kissed you. 

You moved your mouth away from hers, kissing down her jaw and sucking harshly at the skin of her neck. A timid moan came from her lips. You'd never heard a more beautiful sound. Her fingers started unbuttoning your blouse as you continued your attack, creating blemishes that contrasted with her pale skin. Once she got the blouse off, Emily's hands fondled your breasts roughly. 

"Shit, Em..." You sighed. You leaned back against the chair, admiring Emily in all her glory. 

"You look so fucking good in red, you don't even know," you groaned, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. 

"I do know," Emily raised her arms, allowing you to pull the shirt over her head. "That's why I wear it." 

"You drive me crazy, Prentiss," you finally admitted. 

"I think I know the feeling," Emily moaned, taking your hand and crudely stuffing it down her pants. Luckily the waistband was elastic, allowing you to feel the dampness of her underwear as you manoeuvred your wrist to cup her pussy. 

"Fuck... You don't know how many times I've imagined feeling your pussy," you confessed. "I've dreamt of the things I'd do to you." 

Emily groaned as you pushed her panties to the side, feeling the wetness against your fingers. The positioning of your hand might've been awkward, but you didn't care. Emily opted to go for another kiss as you started rubbing her clit. 

The soft noises she made while her tongue was in your mouth were otherworldly. Her hips ground against your hand, desperate for more friction. 

Emily hooked her fingers into the cups of your bra, not bothering to unclasp it, simply tugging them down to free your tits. She left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest before taking a nipple between her teeth. 

"Fuck- Emily," you whine. She brought her hand up to your other breast, pinching and biting your nipples in tandem. You retaliated by finally circling your fingers over her entrance, pushing two inside. 

"Oh! Ah- Fuck," Emily exclaimed, throwing her head back. You curled your fingers in the way you did to yourself while thinking of her late at night. Emily reached behind her, placing her hands on the edge of the desk, creating more space for you to do what you had to. 

Emily was becoming less coherent with every pump of your fingers. Your thumb hit her clit harshly with every thrust inside her pussy. Just seeing her come undone like this, on your lap, by your hand, was enough for you to drench your own underwear.

You brought your unoccupied hand to her naked waist, admiring her figure. You couldn't believe you got to see her like this after all this time you spent pining. Her eyes were closed as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. 

"Fuck, don't stop," Emily moaned. Her jaw was slack. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the desk tightened. You felt her walls constrict around your fingers. You curled them in a come hither motion as you circled her clit with your thumb. 

Emily's arms shook as her moans turned into high-pitched whines, signalling she was getting close. 

"Shit! Oh my god," She exclaimed, followed by a loud moan of your name. It was like music to your ears. 

She rode out her high as she gushed around your fingers. Your free hand drew soothing patterns on her hip, working her through her climax. 

You carefully withdrew your hand from her panties, bringing your fingers to your mouth and sucking them clean. Emily let herself fall back forward, no longer having the strength to hold up her upper body with her arms. 

She took your fingers from your mouth, wrapping her lips around them and sucking seductively. She released them and pushed herself off your lap, tugging you up from your seat. She switched your positions, pushing you against the desk before getting on her knees. 

Emily reached for the button on your pants, undoing it and tugging it down. She tapped your ankle, signalling you to step out of them and spread your legs. It was a bit awkward with your shoes still on, but you made it work. Her fingers left a trail of goosebumps in their wind as she traced them up your leg to your inner thigh. 

She followed the path she'd just drawn with her mouth, hooking her teeth in the waistband of your underwear, laughing as she tugged them down. You smiled at her antics. 

Her mouth returned between your legs, licking a hesitant stripe between your folds. The kitten licks to your clit drove you crazy. 

"Fuck, please, Em," you begged, bringing your hands to her hair. You couldn't feel more lewd, tits out in your boss's office, said boss between your legs eating you out. The scandal of it all only turned you on even more. 

"Can't believe you put your whole job on the line-," Emily scoffed between licks. "-just because you wanted some pussy." 

"Not just some pussy," you moaned as she sucked on your clit. "Yours." 

"Such a horny little thing for your unit chief," Emily mumbled. The vibrations of her words added to your pleasure. 

Your grip on her dark locks tightened as she fucked your entrance with her tongue expertly. You had to put all your weight against the desk to stop your knees from buckling.

"F-fuck, Em. Oh my god," you groaned as she added her fingers to the mix. 

You dared to look down, only to be met with the finest sight the world had to offer. Emily gazed up at you through her lashes, dark eyes blown wide and amused. You could see her free hand was between her legs, stroking herself at the same rhythm she had with her mouth on your cunt. 

God, did you wish you had Reid's memory right about now. 

You didn't know how much longer you could last. Having had the pleasure of feeling her around your fingers, witnessing her expression as she came. It was enough to have you teetering on the edge. 

"Ah, fuck. I'm close," you whimpered. Emily moaned loudly, her pace increasing. Your hips bucked against her mouth, chasing the pleasure. Her hands came up to your sides, holding you in place. 

You had to withhold from forcefully pushing her head closer, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more more more. 

You balled your fists, throwing your head back. The knot in your abdomen tightened, threatening to snap any second. 

"Oh- shit, please." 

"Come for me." It was like she'd pressed a magic button, your climax immediately upon you as she spoke the words. 

"Emily!" You came with a loud cry, grinding your hips against her mouth. It was mindblowing. You'd never come that hard. Emily helped you ride out your high, careful to not overstimulate you. 

She rose from her position on the floor, hands never leaving your body as she got back on eye level. You searched her face for regret as both of you stood there, taking in the situation and catching your breath. 

She leaned in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You smiled, kissing her back passionately. She helped you redress your upper body, all while never breaking the kiss. 

You separated to pick up your respective discarded pieces of clothing. The atmosphere was light. There was no unresolved tension as you had expected. A mutual understanding had been created. 

Emily grabbed her stuff and walked with you down to the bullpen. "Dinner tomorrow, my place," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you agreed, putting your things in your bag. 

"For now, go get your go bag out of your car," she instructed, locking the door to her office. 

"Why?" You asked as you walked with her to the elevator. 

"Because you can return the favour and have an early appetizer in my bed tonight." 

[happy-beeeps]

Darling, I Would Do it Again

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, injury, angst with a happy ending, language

Summary: After a mission goes south, Hunter risks it all to get you back.

Thanks @starboytech for the request! Birthday requests still open!❤️🥰🫶

Four walls, one floor, one metal slab you assume is a bed, one small chamber pot you’ve decided not to investigate.

One broken rib, three gashes, one puffy lip, one bruised ego.

You’ve been itemizing your surroundings, counting your affects, trying to keep some semblance of composure. It’s what you’d learned in med training, the effects of shock can be the sneakiest killer in a crisis. From the moment that Trandoshan had grabbed you, you’d been doing your best to keep yourself on the other side of a panic attack.

To say the mission had gone sideways would’ve been a colossal understatement. It was well and properly fucked. Truly FUBAR as Wrecker would say. What was supposed to be a simple grab and go of some cargo (and information) from a small collection of pirates had turned into the squad attempting to infiltrate a fully operational pirate base, who dabbled in trading and selling live cargo. CID’s intel had been dated at best, or designed for failure at worst. The last thing you remembered was pushing Omega towards Wreckers outstretched hands, as Hunter screamed, clamoring for you as the squad ran towards the exit they had blasted open. You were running, legs striding, until you felt a singe, then burning pain in your calf. The tranq was fast, your vision fading to black before you even knew what had hit you. 

That was, by your count, three rotations ago. The pirates had scarcely been by, only to throw food at your cell and offer vulgar remarks. From what you had gathered, you were the only live cargo aboard this section of the ship. There was no way of knowing where you were going, and no way of knowing what awaited you when you got there.

Honestly, you hoped Hunter and the rest of the batch had figured you a lost cause. You were vastly underprepared for any siege, and the danger these pirates posed to Omega made you sick. You had looked hell in the eyes before, and you’d do it again to keep them safe.

Hunter was, in Tech’s words, displaying the worst show of territorial protectiveness a clone had shown in his memory. In Echo’s words, he was kriffing irate. He hadn’t spoken since you were taken, instead pacing aimlessly through the hull of the Marauder, eyes glazed over, jaw tightened. Not even Omega had dared speak to him in this state, instead coloring pictures of their small family to give you when you returned. Tech had warned them that even with the tracker Wrecker had chucked onto the ship, they needed to be practical, but the look that flashed across Hunter’s eyes had softened the rest of the statement into a whisper. He was going to get you back, non debatable. Even as the ship blurred through hyperspace, tailing the ship to the best of their abilities, he had willed a thought to you. I’m coming for you cyar’ika.

One broken rib, one gash, two cuts, one broken heart.

You knew that even as the ship touched down, there was no way they were coming, you had hoped that even. Still, the thought that you’d never see them again, never lay in Hunter’s arms again, had you fighting back tears. A different pirate, a human man with a cybernetic eye that reminded you all too well of a clone you had befriended so many moons ago, had warned you that when they had completed inventory, you’d be taken to the highest bidder.

You hadn’t shown any crack of emotion the whole time, but wept the moment he left. It had all gone so wrong, so fast.

The ship rocked for a moment, a commotion coming from far down the hall.  You had seen large crates of merchandise when you had first snuck aboard, and figured something had merely snapped loose. It wasn’t until the telltale sounds of blaster fire that you had even begun to think about this hell coming to an end.

It was coming closer, moving towards you. The sounds of yelling and blaster fire and body after body hitting the floor. In a flash, the door was flung open, and you caught sight of the silhouette of Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker standing against the smoke and sparks in the air. 

Echo had moved to a panel near you, where you assumed the controls to the cells were held, and Wrecker stood near the door, ready for incoming threats. Echo had gotten the door opened in a mater of moments, and was now working on closing the main blast door to the detention area. Hunter had moved in immediately, taking one, two, three, big steps and closing the gap between you, careful to press you against his chest on the opposite side of your break.

“You came for me.” You wept, tears flooding from your eyes freely, “but Omega, the squad,”

“There is nothing in any system that could ever keep me from you, you understand? I would never stop looking for you, whoever had you would never know peace.” His words were rushed, angry, but his smoothing hands against your hair told you all you needed to know. Hunter was terrified, terrified that they’d have come all this way for you to already be gone, or worse, come to collect your corpse. You wanted to badly to rip off his helmet and kiss him, but given the circumstances, held back.

“This is cute and all, but we gotta move!” Wrecker’s voice came in loud as Echo managed to get the opposite blast door open. The four of you took off running, Hunter pressing against you as he cushioned any impact on your already aching body. It was working, you thought, whatever distraction Wrecker had planned and whatever interference Tech was running was working. You’d nearly made your way to the door Echo had opened, to what you assumed the rendezvous point was, when you were met with company. Most shots were met with a fast response from the batch, but a few were close for comfort. It was like deja vous, you were so close to freedom.

In a moment that had to have lasted no longer than four seconds, you heard Hunter turn around, before yelling “no!” And sidestepping in front of you.

The shot that landed in his chest would have hit you squarely, with no armor. You screamed his name, and Wrecker wasted no time picking up his downed brother, tossing him over his shoulder as if he was weightless. Echo slid into Hunter’s spot, urging you forward as you all moved to where the Marauder was waiting, engines already firing as Omega motioned you all foreword, eyes wide.

One shattered chest plate, one nasty bruise, two broken ribs. He was alive. He wasn’t wounded. You tried to repeat these truths to yourself as you worked on him on the tiny pull down stretcher the Marauder had. All your years as a med never made caring for those you loved any easier. You shakily applied bacta patches to the angry bruised spot on his chest, anxious to heal it before any internal bleeding caused irreparable damage. Tech is expertly piloting the ship away from danger, and last you saw Omega was tucked snuggle between Wrecker’s arms as he attempted to distract her from any negative thinking with Lula. Echo was up front with Tech, so it left you alone with Hunter.

You knew he’d pull through the second you removed the plastoid. Sure, his chest plate had been shot to smithereens, but it had done it’s job. Your own chest ached at the reality of how much danger you’d actually been in. How much danger he had risked just to bring you home. 

His wounds were patched, bacta slowly working its way through his body. All that was left to do was wait.

You weren’t sure how long had passed, the inhabitants of the Marauder had moved to a restful sleep while you were keeping a vigil for Hunter. He woke up with a shaking breath, eyes wide, hand shooting out to grip the side of the stretcher, your name breathing from his lips like a desperate prayer.

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here,” you crooned, leaping up from your chair and moving to stand next to him, hands running across his sweat-damp face and hair. Your own wounds had been patched in the meantime, and your sudden movement had made you wince, but it didn’t matter now that you had tangible proof he was okay.

“Couldn’t leave you, had to come back for you,” he breathed, his eyes settling as he locked with yours. He pushed up a bit, leaning against the metal wall of the ship while he focused on you. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing I was the reason you were hurt.”

“Hunter, with all my love, how do you think I’ve felt waiting for you to wake up?”

“I’d take a blaster shot for you for less, you know that,” he sighed, but offered you an apologetic smile. The two of you settled into silence for a beat, you simply tracing your fingers over his knuckles while he watched you, content to see you alive and in his arms.

“I’d do all of this again, you know. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“You know, to end up with you, to have you with me,” he brought your hand to his face, lips pressing sweetly on each of your knuckles, “I’d go through any kind of hell just for, just for the chance to have you in my life. Every banthashit choice, I’d do it all for you ten more times, cyar'ika.”

You had no words at first, just leaned over to him and tried to channel all of your possible love into a kiss along his hairline. The words came to you, slowly, and you murmured back, “I’d have them put me back in it. All for you.”

[ghostlywhiskey]

John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 3

Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,573 Warnings: Mentions of fingering Summary: Maybe the idea to snoop through your bosses garbage while he is out of the office isn't the best idea, especially when he catches you doing it. Notes: Obviously, I recommend reading part one and two before this, just to understand a few things, etc. Please be advised I did not proofread at all, so if you catch anything I apologize. I always read through after posting and fix things. But, here is part three of lawyer!price. Woo! ▸read part one here I part two here ▸find my masterlist here

A deer in headlights.

A child caught grabbing sweets before dinner.

You, bent down and snooping through the trash of your boss, while he stands in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” Price’s voice repeating the words he just spoke.

You need to respond. Lie. Something.

“You’re back,” any other words you planned on fumbling out of your mouth are quickly cut off.

“And you’re digging through my trash,” he doesn’t question it as if he’s unsure of what you’re doing, he’s certain. 

Every part of your body feels tense as you raise yourself from the bent position, hands grabbing the edge of the desk to stabilize yourself as you stand. Price hasn’t made a move, still standing still by the door as his eyes look at you. 

Standing in his spot, the spot where he talked down to you from, made you feel stupid for questions, raised your anxiety. That same power didn’t seem to rub off on you. If anything, you were ready to break into a sweat and start panicking.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

“I’m not,” and once again, he cut you off.

“Okay, you’re trying to get fired then.” The calmness in his voice was raising your own heart rate.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, your body finally relaxed itself as you accepted being caught. The movement of his body towards yours kept your vision locked on him. 

“Lawyers are supposed to be good liars.” he mumbled as he got closer to you, his frame taller than yours as you face him now. The two of you behind his desk now and for once, you wanted to be in the doorway getting yelled at instead. This was far too unfamiliar - the distance between the two of you, the lack of anger from him.

“Then again, you’re just a paralegal,” it was the emphasis on ‘just’ that made your blood start to boil. “Hope you stick to that and never take up private investigation.”

Just a paralegal? The nerve he had to say it so venomously. As if you weren’t there to put out every fire on his cases, sweet talk other counsels into more time for him to reply to demands, all of it. The majority of his cases would be headed nowhere or settling for way more than what they were worth if you didn’t bring up certain issues with them. You weren’t just a paralegal, you could be doing his whole job at this rate if it weren’t for the lack of degree.

“Have fun finding another paralegal,” you scuff, going to walk past him but his hand grasps your bicep. A small hiss leaves your clenched teeth at his grip as he brings you back in front of him, eyes locked on yours. 

“Don’t recall being in the market for one. I’m looking past your snooping this time, but if I catch you again,” he muttered, his grasp releasing before he spoke again. “Then you can have fun finding another job.”

“Do you enjoy being a piece of shit?” There was no emotion in your words, and quite frankly, you didn’t realize the words were spoken instead of just a thought in your head until you watched his eyebrows raise.

Quickly, your brain went into damage control.

“I didn’t mean,” the hand that had grabbed your bicep now reached for your waist, urging you towards the desk. The edge of it poking against your ass as he positioned you to stand in front of him, trapping you between him and the desk. 

“You didn’t mean it? Just like you weren’t digging through my trash, right?” 

Lips parted as you were going to say something, but a hand that grabbed your chin made your entire body and mind go numb.  

“Don’t lie to me.” And, to be quite honest, you wouldn’t dare to at this rate. You did mean it; John Price was a piece of shit and made your life hell since making you his main paralegal. 

“You’re a piece of shit,” you murmured, body completely stilled except for your hands that grabbed the edge of the desk as if it would support you if your body gave out right now. The words that left your mouth came out as if you were unsure you actually meant them. 

But, before you could say anything else, the fingers that held your chin slipped away and he stepped back. He scuffed, hands slipping into his pockets.

“And it seems you’re still competent enough to listen to me,” The words made your stomach tie into a knot. In some twisted way, you just saved your job by restating he was a piece of shit. Staying silent, you waited for him to speak again before moving or saying anything.

“Gonna stand there until I leave again so you can keep snooping?” He questioned, eyes looking down at you. “Go home, before I actually decide to fire you,” he muttered, body plopping down into his desk chair. 

And without a word, you left his office and quickly gathered your things from your desk to head home.

And after enough time had past since you left, the office was quiet after Ana had come around to clean it, now just leaving Price as the only one. Despite another soul not entering the office until the next morning, he stood up and closed his office door before returning to his chair.

Sitting quietly for a moment, he stared at the open space under his desk for a moment where you had been snooping hours earlier. His brain spacing out as he let his thoughts wander, only coming back to reality when he cleared his throat and hand reached to adjust his crotch. 

“Fucking ‘ell,” he muttered to himself, head resting back against his chair as he stared up at the ceiling.

Price’s finger brushed against your bottom lip before pushing its way into your mouth, lips wrapping around it as you coated it with saliva.

“Don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he moved closer to you, lips close to your ear as he leaned down to let his hot breath hit against the skin of your ears. “Show me how far you can get without instructions,” his thumb slipped out of your mouth, despite slight resistance from you to keep it inside. But, the ‘tsk’ sound his tongue made quickly caused you to release his finger.

And just as he requested, you proceeded without instruction. Hands grabbed the edge of the desk your back faced, pushing your body on top of it. Adjusting, you wiggled your ass back further on the wood surface just enough so the back of your knees hit the edge as you spread your legs. The dress you wore hiking up your thighs, but not all the way until Price’s hands started at your knees, hands making their way up either thigh until he hit the hem of the dress and pushed it up.

“Look how fuckin’ soaked,” he drawled out as your exposed panties had a spot indicating your arousal, which Price’s fingertips came in contact with as he pressed them against you; the fabric of your panties getting pushed between your folds to soak up more of your wetness. “What’s got you this worked up?” 

Not able to form any words, you just hummed in response to the feeling of his fingers pressing against you. 

“Need instructions already?” The tone of his question almost disappointed in you, an eyebrow raising. 

“No,” you were cut off by his words.

“Then I think I asked you a question, did I not?” 

“You have me worked up.” The response was satisfactory to him, earning a nod of approval as his fingers released pressure and instead, two fingers hooked the edge of the fabric and pulled it to the side. His other hand reached to grab it and hold it in place while he lets the two fingers now drag between your folds. The index finger gently circling your clit before his middle finger joins.

“John,” you choke out, one hand reaching to grab his wrist. His eyes glanced at you, a warning look for you to let go of his wrist. Releasing his wrist, your hands rested on either side of you, palms on the desk to steady yourself. “I need you.”

“You need me?” He questioned, fingers still toying with your clit as he spoke nonchalantly. “Think you can only handle my fingers for now,” he cooed, letting them move away from your slit and down to slide into you. The whine of pleasure that escaped your lips at the same time caused him to grin. “Fuckin’ tight around just two fingers,” Price chuckled, pumping his fingers slowly and watching your face closely.

“I can handle more,” you assure him, eyes pleading up at him. Even while you were sitting on the desk, he still stood taller. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” 

The dream caused you to shoot up straight from sleep, eyes adjusting to the dark room as your chest rose and fell. 

Glancing around, your brain registered you were in your room and not in the office like you had been made to believe. A hand came up to your chest as you tried to soothe yourself, but the wetness between your legs wouldn’t allow you to go back to sleep until you took care of that.

And, nor would your brain now.

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows the risk, he knows the danger, he knows how stupid it is. But the thing is, he's never been good at avoiding risks or not being stupid. So here he is, pressing Ray against the wall of the Hideout, because he's five beers and three tequila shots in, and he wants it, no, he needs it, he needs to feel something to make that gnawing feeling in his chest go away, and Ray is available and willing and honestly not too bad considering the size of the queer dating pool around a town like Hawkins.

'Eddie.' Ray pulls back in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to slow him down. 'We're not at some gay club in Indy, man, you shouldn't –'

'Shouldn't I?' Eddie interrupts him. 'What if I don't care that we're not in Indy?' His lips find Ray's again, and Ray doesn't make any other attempts to cease what they're doing, so he supposes it's all good and presses his whole body as close to Ray's as he possibly can. He's swaying on his feet a little bit and his head is spinning, but Ray's arms around his back are keeping him steady enough – until a sudden blow lands against his shoulder and he finds himself stumbling backwards.

Fuck. He should've known, of course. Something about not taking risks, right?

‘The hell are you doing, freak?’

He blinks rapidly to get the blurry blonde-haired face opposite him into his focus.

‘What does it look like we’re doing?’ he scoffs.

It’s Jason Carver, he now realizes, because of-fucking-course it is. The guy brusquely shoves him against the wall; beside him, he hears Ray utter a scared gasp. He blindly grabs Ray’s wrist, because no matter the haze in his brain, he still thinks he should probably do something to comfort the guy - and he watches Jason’s eyes flick down at the movement before they settle back onto Eddie’s face.

‘Looks like you’re practicing sodomy out in the open,’ Jason breathes out.

Eddie can’t help it - he laughs. ‘You’re about ten years behind, Carver. Nothing illegal ‘bout that anymore.’

‘Tell that to Leviticus 18:22. “Do not have sexual rela-”‘

‘What part of me makes you think I give a single shit about goddamn Leviticus?’

‘Eddie,’ Ray chimes in, with a slightly begging edge to his voice that Eddie has only heard in very different circumstances before. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Jason settles his gaze onto Ray now, loosening his grip on Eddie’s upper arms a little bit. His blue eyes look innocent as ever, but that’s exactly the thing that makes Jason Carver so dangerous - Eddie knows that all too well.

‘No, you’re not going anywhere yet.’ A slight smile is playing around his lips, as if he’s actually enjoying this - which he is, of course, the fucking psycho. ‘I think I’m gonna need to put the fear of God back into you two first.’

His strike is sudden and unexpected despite the build-up; Eddie didn’t actually think he’d have it in him. An involuntary gasp escapes his lips when he witnesses how Ray’s head gets knocked against the wall of the building with a thump that blends right in with the loud bass emerging from the bar.

The alcohol has made Eddie slow - too slow - and Jason catches his wrist before he can punch back properly.

‘Ray -’ Eddie pants.

But Ray is already getting away, running as fast as he can across the parking lot without even once looking back. Jason’s eyes flash quickly back and forth between the two boys, but he seems to decide that going after Ray isn’t quite worth it if he has the superior target - the drunk freak - right in front of him. He twists Eddie’s wrist into a painful angle with his left arm, using his right for a well-aimed blow against Eddie’s jaw.

Eddie tries to aim his knee at Jason’s most vulnerable parts, but he’s too sluggish and Jason too quick on his feet, and before he can really shake off the stars that are dancing around in his vision, he feels another two hits against his face and then one in his stomach, making him gasp for air as he tries to find some support from the building behind him. Before he knows it he’s knocked down to the ground - but then, another pair of legs appears in his vision and when he lifts his head, he sees Jason being knocked back a few steps by someone - no, not just someone - by Steve.

Before Jason can even raise his hand to hit back, Steve grabs his wrist and twists his arm while landing a punch in his face with his free hand. Eddie scrambles to his feet, getting himself out of the way of Steve throwing his whole body into the fight, shoving Jason against the wall; a choked groan escapes from Jason’s mouth when Steve hits him right in his stomach.

Steve catches hold of the other guy’s collar as he presses him against the wall. Jason’s usually meticulously styled hair is hanging over his eyes and his lip is bleeding.

‘You stay the hell away from my friends or the next time we run into each other will do some irreparable damage to that pretty face of yours, Carver. Now get the hell outta here.’ There’s more of the old King Steve in there than Eddie has seen in years, and it’s twisting his stomach in a way that has nothing to do with the punch he received there half a minute ago.

‘Fuck off, Harrington,’ Jason spews out when Steve releases his grip. ‘You’re pathetic. Have fun hanging out with the freaks.’

But words can’t hurt - not when they’re coming out of Jason Carver’s mouth anyway - so Steve gives him a final shove into his back as the guy stumbles away with a limp in his step.

Steve turns around to face Eddie, his chest still heaving.

‘You won a fight!’ Eddie exclaims triumphantly, while making the mental note not to forget any details so he can tell Dustin all about it tomorrow. He strongly doubts how much he’ll remember by the next day, however, and he kinda wishes he hadn’t been drinking this much.

But Steve doesn’t look nearly as victorious as he should; there’s a frown on his face and his lips are pressed tightly together.

‘Jesus, Eddie, what happened?’ His eyes are wide as they wander over Eddie’s face, and this is probably not the moment to think anything along the lines of ‘Holy fucking shit, Steve is worried about me!’ but it’s pretty clear by now that Eddie doesn’t really care about right moments anyway.

‘Nothing to worry about, Stevie.’ He tries to grin, but the movement is hurting his jaw and he has to bite back a groan. ‘Just a good old-fashioned Indiana hate crime.’

The frown on Steve’s face deepens. ‘Did he - did you -’

He doesn’t finish his question, and Eddie merely shrugs in response.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Steve brushes both his hands over his face in an exasperated motion. Then, his expression settles into something softer, more cautious.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Aside from the fact that my hookup fucking left me to be beaten to pulp by the local Christian psychopath and my head feels like it might split in two, yes, never better.’

Steve huffs. ‘Fair enough,’ he mumbles under his breath. ‘Alright, why don’t we go inside and get you cleaned up?’

He holds out his arms to support Eddie, but Eddie stubbornly chooses to ignore that - until he takes the first step and the combined dizziness of the shots and the fight almost immediately sends him crashing to the pavement.

‘Woah, I got you, man.’

Steve’s strong arms keep him steady before he can even blink, and maybe it’s not so bad after all, to feel those warm hands firmly around his arms with every step he takes.

Eddie clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the bass that starts hammering into his skull as soon as they step back inside the bar, and he lets Steve guide him to the restroom without paying attention to any of the staring patrons around them.

Steve lifts Eddie up like he weighs nothing and positions him on the sink, then swiftly turns on the tap and gets himself some paper towels. Eddie notices the blood on his knuckles, but Steve seems to be more worried about Eddie’s face than about his own injuries: he starts carefully dabbing the bruises at Eddie’s temple with the bundle of wet towels in his hand, with a concentrated frown between his brows and his eyes fixed on the damage that has been done. There seems to be a kind of routine to his movements, and something about that kind of makes Eddie want to cry.

‘You gonna tell me what happened exactly?’ Steve asks.

‘You know what happened,’ Eddie replies stiffly. ‘Forgot that this is what happens when you kiss someone.’

The worry on Steve’s face turns into skepticism.

‘So let me get this straight,’ he says, now moving the wet paper towel down over Eddie’s cheek, ‘You decided it was a good idea to have a full-on makeout session with a guy right outside the Hideout for everyone to see and -’

‘So I deserved it?’ Eddie cuts him off, a biting undertone to his voice.

Steve’s gaze flashes away from Eddie’s cheek and settles on his eyes. ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, man,’ he says, warning. ‘I just - I don’t want you to get hurt if you don’t have to. Were you even thinking at all?’

‘Hm. If you put it like that, it really does sound stupid, huh?’

‘Well, I hope it was worth it.’ There it is again, that coldness.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hooking up with some random dude outside a bar. I hope it was worth the punches. Seriously Eddie, why would you even do that?!’

He probably shouldn’t be saying this. No, he really shouldn’t be saying this. But there’s something about the way in which Steve is phrasing all this shit that makes him feel cornered. ‘Because I needed to forget about you.’ He lets it slip out before he can stop it. God-fucking-damnit.

Steve’s hand freezes mid-dab, cloth hovering in the air in front of Eddie’s skin. His mouth opens, the inevitable What?! frozen on his lips.

‘There you have it,’ Eddie says with a stiff shrug. ‘Not only stupid enough to get beaten up while I shoulda known better, but also to fall for my straight friend like the total idiot I so clearly am.’ He can’t even look at Steve anymore, fixes his gaze on a point somewhere behind Steve’s shoulder. ‘You know what, you should go home. I’ll get myself cleaned up; I can walk to Reefer Rick’s and crash there.’

But Steve moves to position himself right in front of Eddie, making it impossible for him to jump off the sink like he was planning to.

‘No, we’re not going anywhere.’

‘Steve, c’mon, this whole shitshow has been embarrassing enough as it is, alright?’ He feels the burning behind his eyes; he knows what’s gonna come next and he doesn’t want Steve to be the witness to that. ‘I don’t wanna talk about it. Just - at least give me the dignity to have my pathetic breakdown in private.’

‘Well, I do wanna talk about it, and you know what, Eddie?’ There’s a certain edge to Steve’s voice that Eddie can’t quite place. ‘You are a total idiot. I don’t know why the hell you would ever assume I’m straight, so honestly, that’s on you, man.’

It takes a good few seconds before Eddie’s hazy brain finally catches up to Steve’s words. Wait, what?!

‘Steve, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me right now...’

‘I wish I was.’ And something about the complete seriousness with which Steve says that, finally makes the penny drop in Eddie’s head.

For a couple of seconds, he can only stare at Steve, frozen in time and in the hundreds of words that are hidden behind that soft brown-eyed gaze of his. Then, he stretches out his hands, wraps them around Steve’s waist, tugging him closer between his legs, reaching -

But Steve doesn’t kiss him. He merely envelops Eddie in his strong arms, tangles his fingers into his hair, rests his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck...

‘Steve...’

‘Not right now, Eddie,’ Steve murmurs into his hair. ‘Not like this. Just let me hold you, okay?’

So he does. He lets Steve hold him. He feels his arms around him, feels his waist pressed against the inside of his thighs, feels the warmth radiating from his body, hears the steady breathing in his ear, smells the scent of hairspray and aftershave and something he never smelled before. And he lets Steve take him home, where he keeps clinging onto him like a koala to a tree - and he doesn’t even mind that nothing else happens while he’s in Steve’s bed for the first time, because he’s there, and Steve’s there with him - and for now, that’s more than enough.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: i think i’m finally clean || part two: HERE

summary_ after a failed desperate attempt from Joel to get you back, you go missing while doing patrol, which leads to the Millers having to go and find you.

warnings_ age gap! (not specified tho), angst, fluff, ANGST, emotionally constipated Joel!, lots of apologies, mostly Joel’s POV

notes_this was supposed to be 1989 related like part one but I love Suki’s new album so much and it’s so Joel Miller coded, Legendary is all I played while creating this.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

…

How could there be a disco ball in the room? Who found it? And where?

You weren’t expecting much from the Halloween party in Jackson to be honest. But turned out to be full of people with mid-costumes made by the first thing they could come up with. At a long table, you could spot a jar of fruit punch, some simple pastries, and snacks.

Some music was playing as many couples danced on the improvised dance floor. You only stared as you drank some alcohol your friend Lia sneaked in.

“Hey, love your outfit,” Sally says, a friend of yours who also worked in the gardening business of Jackson with you.

“Thanks, Sally. I also love yours” She has a crimson dress with her old usual boots and some fake blood everywhere, made with berries and pomegranate juice. You know because you helped her out with that.

“It’s been ages since I saw so many people gathered. Not even on Christmas” You nod, although you hadn’t lived in Jackson long enough like her.

“I guess Halloween really is that time of the year” she laughs and offers you a gentle smile.

“Hey… I’ve heard Joel has been trying to talk to you”

“I’m not in the mood to handle him or his bratty little girl right now…” Sally laughs even harder at your words. But you’re being serious. For a whole night, you don’t want to think about Joel and Ellie. They are around, you saw once the man talking with Tommy, helping him to drag some trash cans. The girl on the other hand was barely talking with a girl who looked around her age.

“Perhaps… but it’s so hot of him to keep trying with you,” she says and you scoff shrugging.

“You made it sound like he wants to seduce me”

“He may be…”

“No. Oh my God, no, Sally.” You say crossing your arms. Completely missing the pair of eyes that were fixated on you.

“You spent months with him and Ellie in the wild. I swore you were a family when you arrived here the first time”

“I used to think we were a family too. But that’s long forgotten. I’m good right now. Without them…”

Sally doesn’t push it anymore. But she thinks you’re trying to ignore your emotions. And she can’t judge you, she saw how Joel treated you the day of the vegetables.

“Let’s just forget about it, I’m in the mood to dance.” You add, dragging her and improvising some lame dancing along the 90s music playing.

…

Your vision is spinning. The lights that made the party feel like a real disco now seem to be violent faded dots. But you don’t feel sick, you feel light.

It’s nearly past midnight. And there’s still a lot of people in the party. All of the kids of Jackson have been long ago finished with the trick or treating. Sally found a guy to spend the night with and you told her to enjoy but also be careful.

And so you’re also ready to call it a day. You got dressed for Halloween ever since the outbreak. You witnessed a big party, you kissed two guys for fun and you were drunk as hell.

You couldn’t recall another day as happy as that Halloween.

When you almost trip when going down the stairs of the dining hall, you have to sit on them, laughing.

For some seconds, you can see the blurred image of the bright yellow moon. It’s a cold night, but nothing near freezing.

“…y/n?” You hear a male voice calling you.

It was Joel.

“Not tonight, Joel.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I don’t give a shit, I can stand and make it home,” you say calmly. Although you’re drunk, you still feel very conscious.

“I’m takin’ you home” Joel barely grabs your arms when you squirm away from him, standing up immediately.

“For fucks sake, Joel. I want you away from me. A-W-A-Y… GET AWAY FROM ME!” He was taken aback. And there was nowhere to hide his feelings. Joel had been painfully hurt by your words. Even when he had heard the same hours ago, this time hurt even more.

“All of your friends say you keep avoiding the way you feel. Why can’t you just let me speak then you can ignore me the rest of your life?” He shouldn’t be arguing back when you’re drunk. He really shouldn’t.

“Because I’m not interested in whatever shit you will say. You never gave me the chance to speak back then… Remember?…” you say dragging every word with a vague look that only confirms how drunk you are.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I’m sorry. To Ellie, to me… you are family.”

Your eyes prickle with tears.

Suddenly you’re sober. Your brain works perfectly fine. So you cry.

Joel sees the first tears rolling down and he sighs. He couldn’t comprehend your side of the story because you were excluding him and Ellie. But he wanted to be in your life again. He was a man who had changed so much after Salt Lake.

Joel was open to being vulnerable, just for you.

His body moves closely, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Or at least touch you.

But you move away.

“I need time…” you say before walking away with weak steps but a confident pace.

You don’t dare to look back. The way home is more quiet than silence itself. You block every thought regarding Joel while you wash your hair in the shower. And you are even scared to think about it as you light the candle on your nightstand.

…

Two weeks without any contact with the little Miller family pass by. Ellie sees you in the garden and picking vegetables to send to the kitchen and the rest for livestock or as fertilizer. She also saw you once in the dining hall with your friends laughing and gossiping. And the young girl couldn’t help but think she hadn’t seen you laugh like that. Not ever since you and Joel used to mess with Ellie about the dirty tee shirt she always wore.

Joel goes to your house one night and spots you outside, taking care of your plants, humming some songs, and wearing pajamas. He stood there in the shadows like a creep for more minutes. He looked carefully at how you sat on a patio couch you had near your door and got into the book you pulled out.

Joel reminisced the night Ellie and he had a hateful dinner. They recalled the moment they met you some miles away from Boston. And by the end of the memory, when you told them you were staying in Jackson instead of going with them to the Fireflies in Salt Lake, Ellie snapped. The girl and Joel briefly argued, blaming each other for treating you so bad. But soon Ellie made Joel say three precious words.

He loved you.

And seeing you alone, in your home, almost a year after taking separate ways, only made Joel desperate to feel worthy of your affection.

…

The Miller brothers carried heavy piles of carved wood for a new library the men had built during the summer. Joel and Tommy never lost their contractor’s touch. They beautifully worked so well that ended up giving advice to the younger ones. It was a normal day. That morning a group left to patrol as usual. Others prepared the food of the day. Others refurbished the town. The kids went to school. Everything was normal. Joel was pulling splinters out of his left hand, ready to go home. Ellie discovered the new guitar Joel got, so she seemed curious about the instrument.

His home smelled like cedar and burnt wood. Joel rolled his eyes, watching how Ellie forgot to wash the dishes again. But he was tired, he went straight to take a shower and soon landed on his couch. His muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes for a minute.

Which turned into two hours.

“JOEL!” Ellie yells on his face, waking him up.

“What the fuck, kid?”

“Tommy is here, y/n didn’t come back with her patrol group.” His eyes opened wide as soon as he heard the girl.

“What?”

“She’s missing…” Ellie sounded scared, even anxious. Joel immediately got the chills. He sighed and quickly stood up, ignoring the way his back cracked.

In the kitchen, Tommy sat, looking stressed out.

“What happened?” Joel crosses his arms, already losing his patience.

“Patrol was coming back when some raiders attacked them. It was y/n who gained time for the group, and said she would follow soon, but she didn’t” Joel sighed once again.

“How long ago?” Ellie asked timidly.

“Almost three hours ago…” Joel huffs. Angered at his brother, he gave the table a slight slap.

“Why you didn’t tell me sooner?” Tommy tried to calm him down. The whole reason why he avoided his older brother was because he would get stressed. He had hoped that the other groups that went out to find you would come back with great news.

“The group is almost back but now news so far…”

“I’ll go to find her…”

“I said we’ve already sent people around the area…” Tommy says, but Joel rolls his eyes, putting on his boots. Unbeknownst to Tommy, his last resource was Joel. And deep down, he disapproved of the age gap between you two, but he wanted nothing but your happiness and Joel’s.

“Tommy. I’ll go find her.”

“I’m coming too” Ellie quickly says.

“No. You stay here.”

“Joel. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you could be out there alone. Even worse if she’s hurt or…”

“Don’t say it…” Tommy pleads with the girl, so she nods.

Joel’s heart pounds in his ribcage. He is scared, to be honest. And he wants nothing but to grow wings so he can quickly find you.

“Is there any place you haven’t checked?” Joel asks, putting on his jacket. Ellie opens the closet near the entrance and grabs her and Joel’s emergency backpacks.

“There’s a cabin only Maria, the meds, and council know about…” Tommy reveals.

“And y/n too…”

“Yes, Ellie. It’s only for emergencies, hidden near a cliff, where the bushes grow wilder and perfect to disguise raiders and infected.”

“Where is the cabin exactly?” loading his rifle and grabbing more bullets, Joel asks to his brother.

“About an hour away from here. If you go now, you’ll make it before the night falls. I’ll check it in a map…” the man grabs the paper from his pocket, marking a red circle around the green area.

“There’s a lot of apple trees near the area. We collect from there every fall, once you start seeing rotten apples in the way, you’ll know you’re very close” Tommy says.

“Remember. We have a periwinkle ribbon hidden in the bushes. That’s the entrance. Be careful, Joel. And good luck, to the three of you…”

At that moment, Joel realized he would find you in a bad position or a terrible one he didn’t even want to imagine it.

But he was full of fate.

“She’s alive. Right, Joel?” Ellie asks once the gates of Jackson opened and the pair left in two horses.

“Of course she’s alive…” he confidently replies. But the pounding of his heart made him conscious of the anxiety he was feeling.

…

The woods howl with every sound of the wind pushing dry leaves around. So far Joel hadn’t used a single bullet. The way was clear. Only the fainted sounds of the waterfalls and the eco of the cliffs.

There were indeed a lot of apple trees. With the sun almost gone, the burgundy spheres hanging from the trees looked even more majestic.

“I guess we’re here…” Joel announced, putting his feet on the ground.

“Look for the periwinkle ribbon, Joel” the man nodded.

Sneaking his hands through the bushes, he could feel some thorns. At first glance, those bushes looked very intimidating. As if poison would suddenly leak from their tiny white flowers.

“Found it!” Joel didn’t get it, but when he tried to pull the ribbon, he lifted a whole branch attached to it.

“Holy shit!” Ellie gasped surprised to see that the bushes were actually very light.

“The horses can make it inside too. You go first…” Ellie nods, taking the lead.

Then followed Joel, leading his horse inside the property and then making sure the ribbon was completely hidden.

The Cabin was small, rustic, and surrounded by the same bushes and big rocks. It was strategically positioned where the pines and apple trees could disguise it.

“She’s here. Look…” Ellie says, pointing at your backpack and a rifle thrown on the stairs of the cabin.

“Stay back…” he indicated, firmly holding his rifle in case of anything.

Both went up the stairs and were notified the door was barely closed as if they had been in a rush. Joel opened the door slowly and when the view was granted, he saw you on the floor pointing at him with a small pistol.

“It’s okay, it’s just me and Ellie,” he said dropping and rifle and literally running towards you.

“Joel?” You ask looking at his barely distinguishable silhouette.

“I told you once. Don’t go where I can’t follow, darlin’…” he says, but you can’t hear him.

Ellie finally saw you and noticed you were sweating so much, panting for air. The skin of your neck looked between pink and lilac. For some seconds, she thought you had been bitten.

“You can’t breathe,” Joel noticed when you literally dropped your head against the wooden floor.

“J-Joel… My- ribs. It hurts…” you barely spoke and tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hand grasped his and didn’t want to let go.

“Shh… we’re here. I’m gonna take care of you”

Respectfully, Joel tore your long-sleeved top. You had a silk bra that looked very vintage but that wasn’t capturing all of Joel’s attention.

You had indeed swollen ribs. Your right side looked awful in comparison to the left one. There was also a small cut in your shoulder, but your ribs were painted in shades of red, purple, and blue.

The man turned to see the girl standing at the door. Ellie couldn’t hide it, she seemed scared, her eyes slightly teary.

“No tears, she’s gonna be okay. Now help me with the remedies and medicine we have” she nodded.

By the time Joel had finished putting ointments and giving a local spraying of anesthesia, you had completely fallen asleep. Ellie helped him to put a bandage around your ribs and the man carried you to a room that had a bed.

Joel took a brief glance at you and sighed in relief. You were alive, and your chances of survival were big. He just had to take care of you. Like he should have since the first time.

…

You wake up violently, quickly trying to sit down because you can’t remember anything. Your last memory was the raiders shooting and hitting you with his rifle, throwing you off of your horse.

“Hey, easy there!” you immediately stop, encountering Ellie beside you.

One thing was for sure; you felt amazing compared to the day before.

“What are you doing here?” She sighed.

“Patrol came back and you were missing. Since nobody could find you, Tommy suspected you were here. So Joel and I came…” your eyes closed in embarrassment. Blurred memories of them stepping inside the cabin, you pointing at them, telling Joel how bad you were in pain, and Ellie helping him to bandage you.

“Thank you.” She nods, but her lips get sealed, like she wants to say more but she’s unsure.

“I’m sorry.”

“You were the closest thing I had like family and Joel and I fucked up everything,” Ellie says looking away.

“When we’re grieving the past, we get so scared to mess up our present. Which makes us mad and terrified.” You tell her with a little smile.

And you also talk to yourself, because you were so hurt by how they treated you that it made you feel scared of getting hurt again by them.

“Joel said you needed time. But do you think you already have an answer about us being friends ever again?”

You can’t make a teenager beg for your forgiveness. Every single person you know has suffered. All have sacrificed something. And you didn’t want to grow old alone.

“Come here…” you tell her and in less than a second you have Ellie hugging you tightly.

“Wait… my ribs” she breaks off the contact, looking scared.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-“

“Ellie, it’s okay…” you smile at her and she reciprocates it.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Patrolling around. She already signaled to Tommy we were fine. He also went to get something to eat. There’s nothing of food besides the bread and water we brought.”

“Oh…”

“Joel can be an asshole. After all, we both know him so well. But… give him a chance, please” Your smile grows. It makes you blush because Ellie sounds like she’s implying Joel had feelings for you.

Ever since you met him, you developed a crush on him. But he was a grumpy old man, he never showed any sign of romantic attraction towards you.

“I could give him a chance, but I think everyone has misinterpreted the way he feels for me,” you say, remembering how Sally implied the same time during the Halloween party.

“You know how Tommy looks at Maria?” You nod at her.

“That’s the same way Joel looks at you. And I’ve never experienced it, but I know that must be love”

Was the girl in the correct?

…

It’s already late when the need to get out of bed gets stronger. You took a very careful shower, and with every droplet of cold water that washed you, you also repeated every word Ellie said. You could easily admit you loved Joel. Even after everything. Because was there in the harder days out in the wild. You were a stranger he also carried wherever he was going. And always reminded you how strong you were.

“Ellie!” The girl appeared with her hair also wet.

“Can you help me go downstairs?. I want to help you with dinner” you said.

Ellie carefully grabbed your hands to help you stand from the bed. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of apples and cinnamon hit you.

“What are you cooking?” You asked her.

“Just apples with honey and cinnamon…”

“Smells really good, Ellie” she thanks you, paying extra attention as you walk down the stairs.

Just when you make it safely. The front door opened. Joel came in with a dead rabbit in his hands.

“You’re awake…” he said surprised.

“I am…” you reply feeling your face burn in red.

“How are you feeling?” He asks scratching the back of his head.

“Better. Thanks to both of you”

“It’s nothing”

Ellie can’t stop looking between you and the man. She has a little dorky smile and her heart beats in hopes you two can solve your problems.

“Can I skin that rabbit?” You ask him shyly. He looks down at the rabbit and then back at you.

“Let me do that. But if you feel okay, you can cook it” You nod, offering him a brief smile that takes him aback.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Ellie in the kitchen.”

Joel is shocked. Ellie has to go and pinch his ribs to take him down to earth again.

“Don’t mess it up.” She says.

“What?”

“I think we’re okay now. Talk to her tonight, please” he sighs but nods.

“Joel?” The girl asks.

“Hmm?”

“I think y/n feels the same way about you. But she doesn’t think you do.”

His heart beats softly but hurriedly. Joel has to hide his smile as Ellie walks away into the kitchen.

…

Dinner was quiet. Some words were exchanged. Mainly about your accident. You explained how the raiders ambushed you and your group. After gaining time for your partners to leave, there was nobody left to save you. A man hit your head with his rifle, then your ribs. You fell from your horse and barely noticed when the raiders left. Your body dragged itself towards the cabin, where all of your energy disappeared and your Brian processed the pain.

Thankfully, you had two saviors. Joel and Ellie appeared and saved your life.

The plan was to go back to Jackson the following morning. You agreed as long as your health lets you. Ellie helped you go upstairs again as Joel cleaned the dishes. You said good night to the girl and went to brush your teeth. By fortune, you always carried first necessity items in your backpack.

There is no electricity in the upper rooms. But there are tons of bottles of wine, soda, and old glasses with half-melted candles. It made it a little harder while showering. But after feeling clean, relaxed, and lonely, it brings a sense of peacefulness.

In the mirror, you encounter a woman whose body is tired but her mind is starting to feel at peace. You have decided that if Joel came knocking at the door, you would let the past go and you would focus on the present.

But your hopes die a little when an hour passes and you are still alone in the room.

And just when you’re about to give up, you hear it.

A knock on your door.

You encounter Joel with the same clothes he arrived with. However, his hair is slicked back and wet from the shower he took. You remain silent as he stares closely at you.

“Can we talk?” The man asks.

“Okay…”

You let him step inside. Joel sits on the little couch that faces the bed, and both of you stare in silence. There’s a distant howling from coyotes or jackals near the area. But then, you only pay attention to Joel. He continuously moved his hands and tried to speak up but couldn’t.

“Ellie said you and her are okay,” he says and you nod, avoiding his gaze. You hear him sigh.

“If I had accepted sooner how important you are to me, I would’ve given you the whole night to tell me why you couldn’t come with Ellie and me to Salt Lake” he starts, bringing you back to the night where the doctor of Jackson told you your body was full of anemia. That if you went out to the wild again, you’d likely suffer a breakdown.

“I would’ve understood, I would’ve told you I’d be back. But I didn’t because… I guess I got scared, I was convinced you were abandoning Ellie. But mostly me… I got used to having you in my life. And thought you wanted to take separate ways as soon as you discovered you could have a better life in Jackson”

“I started to feel dizzy that day. If I hadn’t felt anything, I wouldn’t visited the doctor and I would have gone with you and Ellie” you admit looking at the melting candles.

Joel feels a little worse. But it only makes him even more eager to stand up and walk towards you.

You witness how he goes down to his knees with difficulty, knowing his bones are tired. It takes you aback when he grabs your hands and gives you the softest look.

“I’m sorry. For everything. When I saw you were back, so full of life and willing to keep explaining to us what happened, I kept acting like an asshole. That’s not what a man does to the woman he’s in love with…”

You quickly look at his eyes again, trying to see if what he said was true or not. He briefly smiled, tender to see the way you reacted.

“I probably won’t stop saying I’m sorry until I have you by my side every morning and every night. ‘Cause if want thing has thought me, Ellie, is that I have to express my feelings. So I’ll do it, I’m in love with you and I’m sorry”

You are near tears when he says that, Joel only squeezes your hands softly, but you break the contact only to pull him towards you in a big hug.

“The moment I saw you came with Ellie through the door of this cabin, I knew I didn’t want to lose my little family. I’ve been trying to be strong but the truth is that I need you, Joel” his cheek touches yours and you feel the warmth of his skin. Any trace of uncertainty is gone. Only he could have taken and brought back your happiness.

“I need you too, darlin’”

He kisses you, so soft, so simple. You barely pay attention to the rain that suddenly started pouring. Joel slowly stands up and you lean back on the bed. His kisses were addicting even when you just met them seconds ago. But you take the lead by moving your lips down south, marking traces on his chin, towards his jaw. It is there when Joel lets out the first moan. But he suddenly stops

“Wait, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you. Your ribs aren’t completely healed. And-“

“Joel… If I kept going, it’s because I can. And because I want to…” you say before capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Is Ellie asleep?” You add. Joel chuckles.

“You know she snores loudly. Listen…” Both of you remain quiet and the distant snores of the girl can be heard, which makes you giggle.

First, he undresses you and makes sure to heavenly explore your most intimate areas with his tongue. Then he takes off his clothes and worships your body in the most perfect way he could possibly do it.

“I love you, Joel” it spills out of your lips with honesty. Between thrusts and gasps for air, he makes time to answer you.

“I love you too.”

For the rest of the night, his hands are in your body. And until the morning, remain there…

….

The rays of the sun wake you up by directly targeting your eyes. But when you open them, they’re gone. Is a cloudy morning, and there’s a big pair of warm hands securely around your stomach.

The need to stretch is suddenly gone when you remember what happened last night. How good Joel made it clear you were the woman he wanted, his caresses, kisses, and everything. You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him.

“Mornin’…” Joel says with a raspy voice, without you noticing he had woken up.

“Hey…” you reply deciding to face him.

It feels odd to see an unworried Joel after months of being witness to his sleep deprivation, his inability to eat because he preferred to make sure you and Ellie did first, etc.

“Is there anything on my face? Or what’s with the starin’, sweetheart?” Your face goes hot, but there is no point in hiding your thoughts.

“I just… I never thought we would end up in this position. We were practically strangers once…”

“You said it, y/n. Once…” he replies, pulling you closer.

“I guess I’m just not used to this side of you…” Joel smirks, then chuckles. To be fair, he isn’t used to seeing you in such an intimate way. He knows there are many things left to learn from each other, but he knows nothing will change the way he feels.

“Look, after saying out loud how I feel about you… there’s nothin’ else to run away from, baby. I’m an old man who’s tired but feels like a teenager when it comes to you” Your heart melts from tenderness. You can’t help but kiss his chin.

“I’ll make sure to take care of you. There’s literally a whole life waiting for you, Joel. You’re not that old, dear” he smiles, nodding before resting one arm behind his head and the other snaking around you.

“Are we gonna tell Ellie?” You add, stretching on the bed.

“Let’s be real, she already knew before us.” Both of you laugh, smiling at each other like two idiots. The girl had constantly shared silly comments about you two being too close while dinner in the middle of nowhere, or how needy Joel looked about asking you to share a sleeping bag with him.

“She seemed excited about us talking…” Joel nods, sitting on the bed, stretching and making his bones crack a little.

“Glad we did more than talk” you gently push the man, making him chuckle a little.

“We should start heading towards Jackson by now…” you say looking that the sun was coming out again.

“Right. But… let’s say it one more time, please. So it’s… officially real” There was the insecure man you knew.

A little smile perks in your mouth as you crawl back towards him.

“We’re together now, wherever the tides take us…” he kisses you abruptly.

It was real. Coming back to Jackson meant closing a chapter, and starting a new one. And both of you knew it was going to be happier. And possibly… forever.

_______________________________________

Thank u to all the humans that waited almost A YEAR for this second part :)

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