#and a guy who crawls out of a horse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lady-djarin · 10 months ago

Text

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #din dijarin x reader

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english-history-trip · 2 years ago

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Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.

The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.

Paolo Uccello, 1456

This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10

Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up

Unknown artist, c. 1505

This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10

Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this

Raphael, 1505

We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael

Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ

The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401

We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10

Horse thoughts: Dehhhh

Book of Hours, c. 1480

Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10

Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening

Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:

Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432

I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10

Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever

Unknown artist, c. 15th century

I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack

Book of Hours, c. 1450

Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed

Book of Hours, c. 1415

This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10

Horse thoughts: ....yikes

And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road

Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.

#art history #nonsense #hot takes #I am doing a St. George painting and have been wading through reference material #manuscript #fuck me I didn't notice van der Weyden managed to sneak a butthole in his too #the definitive list #when knighthood was in flower #dragons georg

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i-heart-yellowstone · 5 months ago

Note

hi! Can you do a Kacey fic about s4e1? Where him and Monica were already divorced, he was dating someone else who was with Tate that day. She gets shot protecting him. Just a lot of fluff!

thank you!

Protecting the Heir

Walking up the wooden stairs inside the main house I heard my phone started ringing inside my blue jeans pocket until I removed it outside of my pocket and pressed it up against my right ear. “Hey cowboy, how bored are you of that desk job already?”

“Extremely. Not much is happening today. I’d definitely rather be working the ranch with you and Tate.” Kayce sighed heavily on the other end of the phone.

I smiled weakly even though he couldn’t see it. “I know, honey. But just a few more hours and we can all cuddle up on the couch with some barbecue that Gator made and have nachos for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“You’re a girl truly after a rancher's heart.” Kayce declares and I swore I could almost hear the smile on his voice.

I snorted a laugh back in response. “Well I am dating one after all.”

“I'll make you my wife tonight when I get back if you keep talking like that. What is that - oh shit!” Kayce mumbled something under his breath before I could hear gun fire on his end of the phone call.

I called out his name, beginning to worry. “Kayce! Kayce what's happening over there?”

“Go to the bunkhouse.”

I asked him not sure what he meant. “What?”

“Find Tate and go to the bunkhouse. Grab one of the shotguns by the kitchen too.” He shouted back at me before I heard gunfire going off in rapid fire before the phone call went dead. I called his name even though the line had cut off, feeling a nervous tightness inside my chest. “Kayce! - shit - Tate, Tate!”

Bolting up the rest of the way of the staircase searching through the rooms for the young boy. When Kayce moved back onto his father’s ranch he had brought his son to live with him. During that time I was hired by John as his new horse trainer, which allowed me and Kayce something to instantly bond over.

He had divorced his wife Monica a few months before we had met. She still has some visitation with Tate but ultimately Kayce and I have full rights and parenting responsibilities over his son.

“Y/n! What happened?” Tate’s voice came from his bedroom before I saw him running straight towards me.

Wrapping my arms around his body once it collided with my body I held him for a brief moment. Remembering the phone call with my fiancé I broke the hug intertwining my hand with his, leading him down the stairs quickly. “Turn around and go down the stairs. Your daddy says we gotta leave.”

We scrambled through the living room heading towards the kitchen that had a door closest in the direction of the Bunkhouse. I gasped slamming into the chest of a guy dressed all in black clothing and a mask so I couldn’t see his face. “Urgh!”

“You or the kid try to run and I’ll kill you.” The stranger reached inside his coat, revealing a handgun from the waist of his jeans.

Pushing Tate behind me I glared at the guy. “You’re going to kill us either way.”

“I’d suggest you not talk back to me girl if you know what is good for you.” He warned me by keeping the barrel aimed directly at my forehead.

I didn’t waste another second before raising my leg and kicking the stranger in his groin causing him to drop the firearm and dropping to the ground in pain. Whipping my head around I hollered to the young Dutton standing behind me. “Tate, get to the bunkhouse - arrgg!” Suddenly the guy yanked me backwards by my hair, throwing me down onto the kitchen floor. He wrapped his hands around my throat, choking me while I attempted to reach for the handgun with my right foot. He noticed and elbowed me with his rib, making me moan. “Asshole!”

“Y/n!” Tate called my name hiding in the doorway of the kitchen, panic clear in his voice.

I punched the guy in the jaw where he held his chin rubbing the sore area. I began crawling away reaching for the gun, nearly grabbing it with my fingertips till he grabbed the back of my jacket dragging me backwards to him. “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!” He wrapped one hand around my throat taking out a knife and quickly stabbing me in my lower stomach making me scream like a banshee.

The attacker removed the knife ready to stab me a second time but his body immediately collapsed beside me following a loud bang sound. “T-Tate.” Slowly rolling onto my side when I lifted my head I sighed in relief seeing the young kid holding the handgun in his hands.

“Y/n, you’re - you’re bleeding.” He lowered the handgun eyeing the stab wound on my stomach.

Getting up from the ground holding onto the nearby counter for balance I noticed my eyes getting heavier the second I was standing straight up. My throat was sore and I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. “Tate - call - 9 - 1 - 1.” Pressing my freehand to my bleeding wound I saw that my hand was quickly being covered in my own blood. I went to take a step forward towards the kid unfortunately I collapsed before him immediately falling unconscious.

The next time I blinked open my eyes I quickly shut them closed, getting blinded by the bright hospital lights shining down on me. Peeking one eye open I turned my head to the side seeing Kayce sleeping on the bed side of my bed with his head resting on his crossed arms until I lifted my hand close to him gently shaking him awake. “Kayce. Kayce, hey.”

“Hmm. Y/n. Y/n, oh my gosh.” Relief was the first expression to cross the youngest Dutton son’s face. He got up from his chair raising a hand to the side of my face cradling it in his palm. “I thought I had lost you. The nurse said you had lost a lot of blood.”

Leaning into his palm I placed my hand over his larger one. “Nobody can get rid of me that easily. Where’s Tate?”

“He’s out in the waiting room. I didn’t - the doctor recommended that he saw you once- if you woke up. Fuck, I thought I was about to lose you when I saw you all bruised and bandaged up laying in this bed.” Kayce admitted with watery eyes sniffing through tears. I could tell he was trying to remain tough but it didn’t last before he started bawling happy tears.

Opening my arms out wide I gestured my head to the side wanting him to climb up into the hospital bed with me. “Awe, come up here cowboy.”

“We can't both fit on the bed.” He shook his head no.

I smirked in his direction, raising a brow knowing he would cave in a second. “You thought differently when it came to having sex in the backseat of your truck.”

A genuine chuckle left his lips which was a rare sight to see given the lifestyle of his family. He pushed his chair back away from the bed then climbing into the bed once I had scooted over to the other side allowing him room. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t know me so well.” He wrapped his arms around my waist.

Running my thumb over the stubble on his chin I locked my gaze with his deep brown eyes. “If I didn’t pay attention to what you like, I'm not sure I’d be wearing this engagement ring on my finger.”

“I was thinking about that actually. How would you like to get married tonight?”

I sharply gaspe not expecting those words to come from his mouth. “Kayce John Dutton are you shiting me right now?”

“No, darling.” He stared deeply stare at me. “I’m very serious. Today made me realize that I don’t want to wait another minute. I want to call you my wife now.”

Draping my arms over his shoulders I leaned forward connecting my lips with his. He leans into the kiss moving one of his hands to the side of my face and his other hand gently threaded into my hair deepening the kiss the second he earned a moan from my lips. I threw one of my legs over his before he shifted so he was laying on his back and I was sitting on top of his lap, only focusing on how good it felt to kiss the other in this moment.

“Ew gross!” Kayce and I broke the heated kiss quickly turning our heads to the doorway noticing his ten year old son was standing there watching us.

I blushed, sending the kid a bright smile. “Tate, I’m happy to see you.”

“Are you feeling better after getting shot?” He asked nicely, crossing the room until he was at the end of the bed.

Nodding my head I knew I'd definitely feel more of the pain once I left the hospital since they had to do surgery to remove the bullet and close up the stab wound that I had. “I'm a little sore but I'll be fine. I'm just relieved that guy didn't hurt you.”

“So can we go get ice cream to celebrate your okay or are you and my dad going to start having sex again?” The young boy asked catching me and his father off guard.

Kayce turned bright red in the face as I was. “Tate!”

“What. I know when you close the bedroom to cuddle really means.” He shrugged his shoulders, sending us a disgusted face.

Running a hand down my face I sighed heavily so embarrassed. Dropping my hands into my lap I turned my attention back to his father who was likely still waiting on an answer from me. “So - uh about your idea earlier. How exactly would you get me discharged from the hospital in enough time for us to rush to the courthouse to get married before they close for the evening?”

“Simple, we just walk out and say we ain't got time to wait. We wanna get fucking married.” Kayce said with a smirk across his face, and I knew there was no changing his mind once he had an idea in his head.

I warned him. “Kayce.”

“Please darling.” He gave me sweet puppy dog eyes.

Closing my eyes I paused for a moment before getting his son's attention. “Tate, go grab one of the wheelchairs in the hallway. We're busting out of this place.” He ran out into the hallway leaving me and my fiancé in the room alone.

Grabbing Kayce’s jaw with my fingers I turned his chin so he was looking back at me before capturing my lips with his. “I can’t believe I’m gonna be calling you my husband tonight because you’re so impatient, Dutton.”

“Have you ever known my sister to be patient about anything? That should have told you that it runs in the family, honey.” He chuckled, kissing me longingly where I wrapped my arms around his neck deepening the kiss, happy that I would call him my husband the second Tate came back to help me sneak out of the hospital room.

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months ago

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C.C [Incubus Yan] and a "True" Incubus Darling. In this specific universe, there exists two breeds of incubi/succubi - "false" who are typically the results of procreation with other, more conventionally attractive demons and "true" who are usually the result of mating with humans or others like themselves.

False incubi are traditionally more appealing to the eye and lure mortals in that way. True are said to be so horrific the mere sight of them paralyzes their prey where they lay.

True Incubus Darling longs for a normal, human life like C.C has, but even in mortal form gazing at their face without the proper covering has the same effect as if they were in their demon form. C.C however thinks Darling is the sexiest piece of work that ever crawled out of hell - next to himself of course.

He feels terrible Darling beats themselves up for the way they look, but at the same time it lessens the number of bodies filling his closest if someone were to pursue his Darling romantically. There's still the matter of bullies, but he's more than happy to take care of those

True Incubus Darling: I'm...hideous. No one will ever love me. They can barely even stand the sight of me. I should just go back home....

C.C, internally: I know that dick is big. I know that dick is big. I know-

"That's the person C.C is dating??"

"They look kinda freaky in those bandages and shades. Major serial killer vibes."

C.C, acting at if he never heard them: Hey there! ♡ You two lovlies fans of mine? Gimme your address and I'll send you guys a little present.

[Later that night.]

C.C: Hey, babe! Would it be funnier to have dog shit or horse shit left in their mailboxes? Meh, this website has the option for both - so I'll do both.

True Incubus Darling, wearing one of C.C skirts: H-how do I look?

C.C: Bedroom. Now.

True Incubus Darling: D-do i look that bad....

C.C: Babe. I know you're insecure and all, but now isn't the time for that. Either I'm going to be inside you, you're going to be in me, or somebody's gonna have a problem.

#C.C my oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere drabble #yandere incubus #incubus reader #demon reader

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xcaptainhannax · 18 days ago

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Until the Storm Broke (joel miller x reader)

Plot: When a routine patrol turns into a deadly ambush, the reader risks everything to save Joel from a group of vengeful Fireflies—emerging wounded but victorious, and giving Joel a reason to keep going.

Warnings: violence, blood, tlou SPOILERS!!!! if you haven't seen the new chapter please be aware.

A/N: i knew what was gonna happen bc i played the game but still i couldn't watch it, i actually closed my eyes for it bc i was gonna cry BUT since this is fanfiction and im free to do whatever the fuck i want, joel lives and is happy and loved. I've taken some liberty on this for eg. jackson is not under attack and the events might no be carbon copy but i mean the plot is there ok?

The storm was brewing like a secret. Heavy clouds pushed against the peaks, and the air had that bite — the kind that told you you were on borrowed time.

Joel and Dina left early. East patrol. Joel had said something casual over coffee, a rare smile tucked behind his cup.

“Be back by sundown. Try not to miss me.”

You tried to play it cool, but you watched him ride off longer than you should’ve.

By the time you, Ellie, and Jesse mounted up a few hours later, the wind had picked up. The snow came down slow at first, just dusting the trees. You were supposed to loop through the western perimeter and check in every hour. Easy.

It stopped being easy when the radio started breaking up.

Jesse fiddled with the receiver, frowning. “They should’ve checked in by now.”

“Joel?” Ellie leaned close to the radio, voice low. “Dina? Come in.”

Static.

A burst of something.

“—not responding—ski—”

Another crackle.

“—fuck—Joel—”

Silence.

You locked eyes with Jesse.

“We go now,” you said, already kicking your horse forward.

Ellie was on your heels. No one argued.

The storm swallowed you whole. Visibility dropped, your scarf iced over, and it was almost impossible to see the trail. But you knew the old ski lodge wasn’t far. Joel had taken you there once, told you to remember the path.

You did.

The lodge was barely visible through the flurrying snow — a crooked silhouette of a cabin with boards over the windows. A warm glow leaked through a cracked door.

You dismounted first. Pistol drawn. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

Inside, it was hell.

Dina was on the floor, slumped against the wall. She looked uninjured, but her eyes were shut and her breathing was shallow. Drugged — not bleeding.

You rushed to her first, checked her pulse. Strong.

“Dina,” you whispered. No response.

Then you saw Joel.

On his knees. Breathing heavy. A man grabbing him by the shoulders, keeping him down. Blood ran down his face. His hands were cuffed behind him.

Surrounding him were five strangers. Weapons drawn. Faces full of something ugly — like it wasn’t about survival.

Like it was personal.

You didn’t wait.

“NOW!” you shouted.

Jesse burst through the doorway and opened fire. Ellie rolled in behind him, a clean shot to the guy nearest Joel. You ran for him, ducking behind a broken counter.

“JOEL!” you shouted. “Down!”

He dropped as best he could. You vaulted over a chair and fired three rounds — hit one square in the neck. Another turned toward you, and before you could react, his bullet grazed your side, burning pain flaring across your ribs.

But you were already moving.

You tackled the man who had pinned Joel, knocking him off balance, and your shoulder cracked hard against the floor. You cried out, but reached for your knife.

Too late.

He lunged.

A shot rang out.

Jesse. Clean through the guy’s temple.

You panted, chest heaving, as the last one — the woman with the golf club— turned and ran.

She didn’t get far.

Ellie chased her down. You heard the scuffle. Then nothing.

Silence.

You crawled over to Joel, uncuffing him with shaking hands.

His eyes widened when he saw your blood.

“Y/N—”

“I’m okay,” you lied, breath hitching. “We got you.”

Joel leaned forward, cupping the back of your neck, his blood mixing with yours. “You shouldn’t’ve come.”

You laughed bitterly. “Like hell I wouldn’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you got back to Jackson, you were half-frozen and barely conscious.

They patched you up. The bullet had passed through clean, no organ damage. Your shoulder, though, was wrecked. And your ribs would be sore for weeks.

Joel never left your side.

Neither did Ellie. You knew she was still resentful with Joel but the attack clearly left her scared.

Dina, still groggy, came to see you the next morning. “They gave me something. Knocked me out cold. I didn’t even see it coming.”

She was safe. All of you were and that’s all that mattered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joel sat next to your bed that night, hand in yours, eyes tired but alive.

“Reckless,” he muttered. “Damn fool thing you did.”

“You’d do it for me.”

He was quiet.

“Already did,” you added softly.

Joel leaned in then, forehead brushing yours.

“I’d do it again,” he said.

There was a long silence before he spoke again, voice lower, heavier.

“They were Fireflies.”

You looked at him.

“The girl—the one who swung the bat. Her name was Abby. She was the daughter of that surgeon. The one I… killed. Back in Salt Lake. To get Ellie out.”

His voice cracked just a little. “They were after me because of that. Spent years hunting me.”

You squeezed his hand, gently.

“And they found you. And they lost.”

You met his eyes, firm.

“You saved Ellie that day. I’d have done the same. And I’ll keep saving you now, every damn time if I have to.”

Joel stared at you, a thousand things flashing behind those storm-colored eyes. He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours again.

“Goddamn lucky you’re stubborn.”

You smiled. “You love that about me.”

He chuckled — a soft, broken sound.

“I do.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #joel miller

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attapullman · 1 year ago

Text

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

If you liked this, you may also enjoy on our syllabus Bob From Pi Kapp.

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head.

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?"

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester.

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed.

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg.

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse.

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily.

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester.

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!”

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch.

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house.

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare?

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face.

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats.

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest.

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe.

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?”

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them.

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself.

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher.

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder.

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.”

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you.

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent.

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good.

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind.

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right.

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands.

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses.

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out.

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light.

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

Want more Frat Cowboy Bob? Hang out with Bob From Pi Kapp!

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

Text

Submitting to his dominance part I

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: mean dominant, rough oral

18+ MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Being Johnny’s best friend had its downsides. Like how he essentially forced you into ‘guy talk’. Yeah, sure, you liked women too. But having to listen to him rant about his conquests was going to make you tear your hair out. You liked women, you did, but this buffoon going on about what he liked to do in bed was too much. He was essentially your brother from another mother. Ew.

An hour into his stories, you tell him that if you have to sit through any more of his freaky sexcapades, you might just murder him. And that’s how he brings up Ghost. You’ve met him several times— being Johnny’s residential pest. He was a big motherfucker who always had his face covered. You always were a sucker for the tall, dark, and mysterious type but he always seemed uninterested in everything— including you.

“Ye think I’m a reprobate, hen, ye should hear ‘bout Ghost! He’s the freaky one! Telling the lasses he’s with to kneel and behave or will spank them ‘til they cry. Ghost is a skyrocket, I tell ya!” And that gets your attention.

“What?” you blurt out.

“Yeah, hen! He’s into the whole collar and gags— boorish if ye ask me.”

You could kiss Johnny. Having more than dabbled in the world of BDSM, you knew you could handle many things— maybe even more than what Ghost offered. You bite back an ecstatic smile as Johnny continues with his story-telling, but you aren’t listening anymore.

Unbeknownst to Johnny, he’s just given you a way into Ghost’s trousers.

━

You lounge on the couch as Ghost and Johnny sit around the island drinking. By the sound of Johnny talking in cursive, he’s more than a little sloshed. Then he slaps his hand on the countertop, the sound startling you, and declares how he’s gonna go take a piss. You roll your eyes. Charming.

He stumbles away and then it’s just you two in the living area. This is your only chance. Steeling your nerves, you make your move.

“Hey. Ghost.”

He turns his head to the side a little, a cue that he’s listening.

“I have a proposition for you.” Then stand up and make your way towards him, casually leaning against the island. Ghost looks completely lax, but his eyes sparkle with slight interest.

Now or never.

You summon your courage and say, “Johnny spoke of you being dominant in bed. I want you to dominate me.”

He looked at you with a hooded gaze, before scoffing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, pet.”

That’s not an outright no. This horse isn’t dead yet, so you’re gonna continue to beat it.

“Said you like to collar your women. Keep them quiet with a gag. I can crawl on my knees if you ask it of me. I’ll speak when spoken to.”

Ghost’s shoulders are stiff as he stares around your face as if trying to catch a sign of a prank. He inhales and looks like he’s about to shut you down completely but you talk first.

“My safeword is Pelican. I like to be ordered around, spanked, and tied up. I promise to surrender myself completely. I promise to be a good girl for you.”

Ghost sits there, looking at you in complete silence. Your heart pounds in your ears, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. Maybe he’s not interested. Maybe Johnny had been joking. God, you didn’t even think about it being a bloody joke.

You straighten, getting ready to either run away or curl up and die when two big hands grab onto your hips— keeping you in place.

“You want to be dominated, eh?” and pulls you to stand in between his legs.

“I’m not going to be kind,” and tightens his grip on you, “I’m not going to murmur sweet nothings in your ear. I’m going to use you for my pleasure— like my personal sex toy.”

One hand moves from your waist to grab your hair in a vicious grip and pulls you down to his eye level, close to his masked face.

“Oh, pet. I’m going to ruin you.”

You swallow hard because you know he is and can’t wait but then the sound of the bathroom door opening brings you back into the present. Ghost lets go of your hair and you jump back, putting space between you.

As you run your fingers through your hair, Johnny stumbles into the kitchen, tripping over a chair. Positively pissed. You move to catch him, putting his arm over your shoulder, yours around his waist to hold him upright.

“Right, Johnny boy, it’s time for bed.” you chuckle at his drunken mumbles.

After tucking him in, you head back to the kitchen. To Ghost. You watch him put his used glass into the sink before crossing his arms and leaning back. Expectantly. As you’re about to walk to him, he holds his hand up in a stopping gesture.

“No. You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, remember?” he cocks his head to the side, and with finality in this tone says, “Crawl.”

Oh. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It starts now. Your reaction is visceral— dropping to your knees so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow. Holding eye contact, you slowly drag your body towards him. One hand forward, then a leg. Repeat.

Reaching his feet, you keep your palms flat on Johnny’s wooden floor and arch your back to look up at Ghost with wide eyes. He looks cool, indifferent. But the bulge in his jeans tells you otherwise.

You wait for him patiently, continuously holding eye contact and it feels like an hour has passed before he talks. Commands.

“Take my cock out.”

Your thighs tremble in anticipation, your pussy throbbing at his words. Hands to his waist, you can’t unbuckle his belt fast enough. You hook your fingers into his pants and pull hard enough that you hear a seam unstitch. That earns you a slap across the cheek, hard enough to sting.

“Careful.” You wish you could say it was a reprimand but the feel of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of your cheeks sends a jolt straight to your cunt.

Pants down, you stare at his cock. It’s a goddamn sight. Long and so very thick, heavy enough that even erect, it bends downward— foreskin covers half of the head and balls hang low. A masterpiece.

Another slap to your cheek snaps you out of your adoration.

“Open your mouth, pet.”

He tastes of salt and his musk. You could sit here with him in your mouth forever. You go as deep as you can take him and he hisses when you hold him there until you gag and pull back— getting the stringy saliva from the back of your throat onto his cock. Flattening your tongue, you start to bob on his length until he’s properly wet.

Ghost puts his hand on your head and begins to rock his hips and you start to add a twist with your head on every thrust. Soon, you feel him leaking more salty precum and know he’s close so you start sucking— cheeks sinking in. His thrusts start to get harsher and sloppier and the noises coming from your throat as he fucks it is sinful.

His grip shifts from your head to your hair and you put your hands on his thighs— digging your nails into his skin and he growls out, “That’s it. Come on, pet, you can take it.”

Then there’s salty blooming on your tongue, cum leaking from the corners of your mouth because there’s simply no more room with his cock in it— dripping down your chin and onto the floor. It’s completely silent apart from Ghost’s stuttering breaths and Johnny’s muffled snoring behind his closed door.

Ghost pulls out his softening length and tucks it away, pulling his jeans back up but leaving the belt unbuckled. He then cups your jaw and makes you watch him watch you swallow his cum.

He gives you a light tap on your reddened cheek from his previous slaps and breathily says, “Atta girl. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

Your knees throb and your thighs burn but his compliment makes every single ache worth it. Any crumb of praise from him, you’ll take.

He bends down to your kneeled form before saying, “Next week, I’m gonna pass by your flat. Until then, you do not masturbate, you do not come— And I don’t care what you tell Johnny but make sure he doesn’t visit.” and turns to leave.

Clearing your throat, you croak out, “But you don’t even have my address.”

Holding the door open, Ghost shrugs.

“Don’t have to tell me. I know where you live, pet.” The noise of the door clicking shut echoed through the apartment. With a groan, you put your arse on the floor and slowly extend your knees— hissing at the sharp pain of your knees finally unbending. Ghost is mean. So mean. How does he expect you to not touch yourself when the cum still drying on your chin has you soaking your knickers?

@thychuvaluswife

A/N: ha ha! hes a lean mean machine! i had way too much fun writing this i need help

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader

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imagines--galore · 2 years ago

Text

||Theatrics||

Summary: During a little impromptu training session, you happen to sprain your ankle. Luckily Zuko is around to help you back to Katara so she can help. Unfortunately for Zuko, you have a tendency to be slightly dramatic about your injuries.

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Fluff. Slight mention of injury but that about it.

A/N: You guys voted, so here it is! Also gif is definitely Zuko’s reactions to reader’s.....theatrics :3

"I’m dying!”

“You’re not dying Y/n.”

“Then why is the world growing dark!?”

“You probably have your eyes closed.”

"I do not need your sass while I am dying Zuko!”

“Well maybe you should shut up before I drop your dying butt.”

Smack.

“Ow!”

“Rude Zuko!”

“Thats it! You can crawl back for all I care.”

“No! Wait! Zuko! Wait!! I’ll be quiet.”

“One more word out of you, and I won’t carry you back.”

Katara looked up from where she had been mending Sokka’s shirt, again. There was no one in sight yet Zuko and Y/n’s voices were loud enough to echo along the path leading up to the main courtyard of the Ember Island Summer House. She stood, dropping her sewing to side as she quickly made her way towards the door and peered outside.

It took a minute or so, but then she saw the approaching figure of Zuko with.......you on his back. An amused smile played across the young waterbender’s lips as she watched the Fire Nation prince approach with you slung over his back, your arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep yourself in place.

“Katara! Oh! Now I won’t perish! Or perhaps I will? The pain is too much.” You moaned, throwing your head back for dramatic effect, the force of which nearly made Zuko stumble in his steps. Katara giggled as Zuko huffed in annoyance.

“She twisted her ankle.” He explained as he carried you into the courtyard with Katara trailing behind.

“And who’s fault is that? If you hadn’t startled me during my practice then I wouldn’t have twisted it.” You snapped back. Clearly the pain was making you more then a little cranky.

Zuko rolled his eyes, turning around and dropping you, rather unceremoniously onto the wooden platform that led to the rooms. You gave a little yelp, glaring at the Prince who smirked back as you rubbed your tailbone a little. Katara, ever the kind soul, carefully removed your shoe. You let out a soft hiss as the leather was slipped off.

Removing the cork from her water pouch, Katara made quick work of assessing the damage. “Well you definitely twisted it. I’ll try to heal it as much as I can, but it’ll be a little while before you’re able to walk on it properly. Probably a day or two.” You turned to glare at Zuko who rolled his eyes. “I’ve blasted you off the side of a flying bison Y/n. I don’t see you holding a grudge about that against me.” He said, referring to the days when he had spent chasing Aang and the rest of them.

“Yeah, well I got my revenge when I knocked you out with a blow to the back of your head.” As Katara started her healing process you held up a threatening finger in his direction. “You better watch out Princey, I will have my revenge.”

Zuko smirked. “What will you do? Hobble after me waving a crutch?” You growled under your breath, looking like you would leap at him at any moment. And if your ankle wasn’t throbbing so much you would have.

“Now now children. Lets not fight.” Katara said in a mocking tone as she tried to contain her laughter. You let out a small sound of relief as some of the throbbing was alleviated as Katara worked her healing abilities. “You’re a spirit-send Katara.” You said, gratitude shining in your eyes as you grinned at the girl.

Zuko frowned. “What am I? An ostrich-horse? I carried you back and you don’t call me a spirit-send.” You turned your attention back towards him, an annoyed frown creasing your forehead. “And who’s fault was it that you had to carry me back?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I am a performer, I’m supposed to be dramatic.”

“Over dramatic you mean.”

“Need I remind you, the acting company I worked for won awards for being one of the best in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Probably when you weren’t working for them.”

“As if your dramatic self is any better? Out of all of us, who’s the one moaning about his so-called honor all the time?”

“That was in the past.”

“The past was only a couple months ago, Princey.”

“Shut it Drama Queen.”

“Ah! At least I’m a rank above you, you fire-breathing-”

“Er.....guys?”

You and Zuko broke eye-contact to glare at the poor unsuspecting Avatar who had just arrived from the market with Sokka, Suki and Toph from an errand run.

“What?” The two of you snapped in unison, prompting Aang to let out a nervous laugh and slowly back off, holding his hands up in a surrendering manner.

Taking the lull in the argument, Katara quickly finished bandaging up your ankle and patted it in a reassuring manner. “There, you’ll be all better tomorrow.” You gave a small smile in thanks to the girl before gripping the sides of the wooden platform and slowly starting to stand. You tried putting some weight on your bad ankle, only to wince at the pain that radiated from there. It was much better then what it had been a few moments ago, but it still hurt.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall be retiring to my room.” With a haughty look in Zuko’s direction, you turned towards where you room was.

"Isn’t our room upstairs Y/n?”Toph helpfully reminded you, causing you to pause from hobbling forward. Your face fell, shoulders slumping, causing Sokka to let out a bark of laughter, only to shut up when Suki gave his shoulder a light punch.

“Hey Aang? Can Appa drop me into my room through the window?” You asked, turning to the younger boy with a pleading look. Before Aang could reply, Zuko let out a loud groan, throwing his head back to stare at the sky as he growled.

"For the love of Spirits!”

With that he stomped forward, and before you even got the chance to say anything, he had lifted you off the ground, one arm secured around your waist, the other under your knees to keep you from falling. Meanwhile, you had let out a shriek of surprise, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders.

“If we want to defeat the Father Lord, you’d better start laying off from the FireFlakes.” He grumbled as he began to carry you towards the stairs.

“Its Fire Lord, and are you insinuating that I am fat?!”

“I said that! And I’m not insinuating, I’m stating a fact.”

Thwack!

“Ow! Will you stop hitting me?!”

“Then stop being so rude. I thought Prince’s were all about manners and chivalry when it comes to ladies.”

“Lady? You? Please! Toph is much more of a lady then you are.”

Thwack!

“You hit me one more time and I’ll drop you on these stairs.”

“Do it! I’d rather crawl up then be carried by you anyway!”

“Ungrateful brat!”

“Pouty prince!”

“Drama queen!”

“Honor bound jerk!”

Your voices started to muffle to the rest of the group as the two of you walked further into the house. The younger members of the group stood where they were, a little dumbfounded at what had just occurred.

“I bet you anything these two are gonna be even worse with their flirting when they get married.”

Sokka gaped at Toph, who stood there smirking.

“That was flirting?!” He exclaimed, prompting his girlfriend to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, smiling at how oblivious Sokka could be. Aang blinked his wide grey eyes. “You know, now that I think about it, whenever we fought Zuko in the past, Y/n always had something to say to him.”

“And he always said something back.” Katara added, the laughter obvious in her tone as she continued to listen to the muffled arguing through the wooden floor above.

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko x y/n #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla imagine

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apollosdaydreams · 3 months ago

Text

Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Reader doesn’t know the hat rule, so Tyler teaches her it

Warnings: smut (18+ only), age gap?, Tyler: 28, Reader: 23. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) Sorry if this sucks in still pretty new to writing smut lol,

Tyler and you were at the rodeo, enjoying each other's company after a frustrating day of chasing. You looked over on your left where Tyler was sitting, giving him a small smile. Looking up at his hat then back to his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He said while cocking his head to the side slightly and smirking. You looked down with a soft smile shaking your head slightly, then looking back up at him and shrugging your shoulders.

“Nothing.” You said.

“Nothing?” He replied. “I can see the gears turning sweetheart.” You just rolled your eyes at him and playfully pushed his shoulder. “Just enjoy the show Ty.” You replied with a soft laugh. You then turned to watch the rodeo and Ty couldn’t take his eyes off you, he just gave you a soft smile, eventually pulling his eyes away and started to watch as well. As you watched the rodeo you would often look over to your side to watch Tyler. He was leaning over and his forearms were on his knees, his tongue sticking out in focus. You giggled a little bit and grabbed the hat off his head, Tyler then quickly looked over in confusion before he smirked. You gave him a smile and a small laugh.

“I think I look better in this than you, what do you think?” You asked, as you playfully pretended to strike poses. Tyler couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “Yeah you do….” He mumbled.

Tyler and you were both walking back to the motel you and the others were staying at, Tylers hat still on your head. You guys walked up to the other Tornado Wranglers, and they were sitting by a fire they had made. Boone looked over at Ty and you and smirked when he saw that you were wearing Tylers hat.

“Nice hat you got there y/n.” He said with a soft laugh, and the others joined in on it. You were unaware of why they were laughing, you really thought that they thought that Tyler’s hat looked good on you.

“I know right!” you said happily. “I think I look better in this than Ty does.”

Boone looked at Tyler, then back at you. “You know what they say y/n?” he asked, and you gave him a slightly confused look. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You cocked your head to the side for a second before realizing what he meant. Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red, you looked over at Tyler with slight shock and horror written all over your face.

“Oh my god Tyler! I didn't know, I didn't mean to imply anything.” you said quickly, taking off his hat and handing it over to him. At that moment Tyler realized that you didn't know that hat rule. “It's alright sweetheart, don't worry about it.” He said softly, putting his hat back on and trying to calm you down and not embarrass you even more. The pet name only made you blush harder. You were embarrassed now, wanting to dig yourself a hole and never crawl out of it.

“I’m getting tired guys, I’ll see you in the morning.” You said softly. Kate looked at you with soft eyes, knowing the crush you had on Tyler. “Night y/n. Sleep well.” She said, the others also saying goodnight.

You made your way up the stairs of the motel and pulled out your keys to your room that you were sharing with Kate for the night. Before you could get the key in the door you heard someone clearing their throat behind you, looking at who made the noise you looked behind you and saw it was Tyer.

“Oh, hey Ty…” you said quietly, before he could get a word out you were already apologizing. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by wearing your hat, I honestly didn’t know about the ‘hat rule’ ” you said with an awkward laugh and using finger quotes over ‘hat rule’. Tyler smiled at your rambling. “It’s alright sweetheart, plus I did think you looked really good in my hat, even if you didn’t know the hat rule.” Tyler joked. You rolled his eyes at him and playfully gave his shoulder a soft push. “Oh shut your yapper Tyler.” You said laughing. Tyler couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughing. “But you know it’s fine if you weren't trying to insinuate anything.” He said, making a small step forward to you. “But if you were, well I wouldn't be complaining sweetheart.” He said with his signature smirk. You could feel your cheeks redden slightly, looking up at Tyler, then looking at his lips, then back at his eyes, before you took a small step forward and cupped his face with your hands pulling him closer to you. Tyler pushed you against the wall, kissing you hard. Teeth clashing every once in a while before you pull away gasping for air.

“Let's take this to your room cowboy….” You whispered.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Tyler said with a side smile.

Shaking your head slightly and letting out a small laugh you followed Tyler to his room, he quickly pulled the keys to the room out of his pocket and opened the door, letting you go in first, and quickly following behind you. Before he closed the door he put the ‘do not disturb' placard on the door, locking it behind him. You quickly stepped out of your shoes, and Tyler quickly did the same thing, then quickly pulled you in for a deep kiss, slowly bringing you over to his bed, once the back of your legs made contact with the bed he pushed you softly. You then pulled Tyler down by the collar of his shirt. His hands slowly raked down your body before he started to toy with the button on your jean shorts.

“Can I take these off ya? Dyin’ to see what you have under them.” He said kissing your neck, making you moan. “Yes, take them off please.” Tyler then quickly pulled them off of you, and then flipped you over so you were on top. He then reached for his belt taking it off and throwing it off to the side, before he unbuttoned his pants also throwing it off to the side. Leaving him in his boxers and his shirt, his length showing through his boxers from how hard he had become.

His hands slid under your shirt, you shivered at the feeling. Not knowing if it was because his hands were cold or something else. You then slowly felt him begin to take off your shirt, tossing it to the side. Leaving you only in a lacy bra and matching panites.

“God sweetheart you, are just, wow, fucking beautiful.” He mumbled against your neck, making you blush.

“Ty I think you should take this off.” Tugging at his t-shirt.

“Fuck sweetheart, I wanna see you with out anything on.” He said reaching for the hem of your shirt. Looking at you in the eyes, “Is that alright? Can I take this off?” He asked, but you couldn’t find yourself to form any words, only nodding your head. “Sweetheart I need words.” He said, you gulped and took a deep breath. “Yes, please, yes you can take it off Ty. Pulling your shirt off and tossing it to the side with the other articles of loose clothing. His thumbs playing with your painty line, as you grinded on top of him. His hands were all over your body, reaching for the back of your bra he quickly got it off, his hands then slowly moving to your panties.

“How much do you like these?” He asked.

Shrugging, “I mean I like them I guess.” You said confused, before you could ask why Tyler quickly ripped them in half throwing the ruined panties away. Gasping, “Tyler!” you said. “Those were expensive.” Tyler grinned into your neck. “I’ll buy you one in every color sweetheart.”

“You should take these off…” You said pulling at the waistband of his boxers. He then brought his hands down and quickly pulled them down slightly, his cock then sprung to his stomach. Looking down at him, your eyes widened.

“Ty, I don't think that will fit.” You said looking at his dick. Tyler smiled smugly, bringing you closer to him by your hips, both of you gasping slightly. “It will fit sweetheart.” He said. You then looked down and grabbed his dick lining him up with you as you slowly sank down. Tyler groaned as you slowly fit all of him in you. “See told you it will fit.” He said breathing heavily. You rolled your eyes at him and you slowly began to move up and down his length. You looked over to your side and saw the hat that was on Tyler’s head just moments ago. Reaching for it you put it on your own head, smiling down at Tyler. Tyler moaned, he couldn't believe the sight that was in front of him.

“You look so perfect, wearing my hat, in my bed.” He whispered, hips lips trailing down your neck.

“Stop talking.” You muttered, pulling him closer to you. Tyler chuckled softly, “yes ma’am.” He said, his accent strong and heavy. He gripped your hips harder helping you ride him. Your hands were resting on Tylers chest, you then felt Tyler move his hands towards your clit. Moaning out as the pad of his finger made contact with the bundle of nerves.

“Ty… please.” You moaned breathy. He laughed slightly, rubbing the bundle of nerves harder and thrusting up harder. Before you knew it you coils feel your legs begin to shake as you came crying out.

“Holy fuck.” Tyler whispered, finishing after you, his pace slowing.

*^*^*^*^*^

You were laying down next to Tyler, both of you trying to get air back into your lungs.

“That was-”

“Incredible, I know.” Tyler said, answering for you.

Leaning your head on Tylers shoulder you jumped slightly as you heard someone knock.

“Next time would it kill ya to be quiet?!” Boone yelled from outside.

You blushed in embarrassment, Tyler only laughed and brought you closer to him. “Yeah, yeah, sure Boone!”

Spoiler alert you didn't listen to Boone.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Would really appreciate it if you could reblog! :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this fic, if you have any suggestions please don't be scared to comment or reach out to me!!

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matty-bear · 1 year ago

Text

The Elevator Game Gone Wrong PT.2 [M.S]

type: fic!

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: VERY long, sfw, fluffy, alternate universe, paranormal activity, getting an attachment, seeing spirits, elevators

summary: As you and the triplets join Sam and Colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in Texas, the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game. Little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence.

notes: part two is finally here ! hope you guys enjoy it ^^ I really did NOT expect the first part to get so much attention but tysm for all the love ! I appreciate all of you very much <33 also, yes thats how this fic is gonna end there will NOT be a part three ;3 anywho, happy reading !

WC: 8969

PT1

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Matt?” You call out, your voice echoing rather loudly inside the empty elevator. You feel tears prick your eyes as you crouch down and take the discarded camera and horse necklace up off the floor. You practically cradle them both to your chest and shut your eyes tightly, your mind starting to spin as you begin to spiral.

This can’t be happening.

The stupid ritual actually worked and Matt is gone.

He’s stuck, by himself, in another plane of existence and you have no idea how to help him escape it.

You should’ve persuaded him to not go. You should’ve been a good girlfriend and held him back. (As mean and selfish as that sounds)

I mean if you didn’t let him go in the elevator the second time, this wouldn’t have happened right? Hell, if you didn’t let him go in the elevator period none of this would’ve happened.

Sam and Colby probably would’ve gone in the elevator together. They could handle it, right? Of course, they could! They fucking professional ghost hunters for crying out loud!

Forget about them… Matt is gone. Your boyfriend is gone and the chance of seeing him again is slim to none. What the fuck are you gonna do?

You feel your chest tighten as you feel a lump form in your throat. As tears begin to cascade down your cheeks at a slow pace, you find it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was because of the small space you were in or how your clothes were starting to become rather unbearable.

Who are you kidding, Matt is fucking gone.

You feel your chest tighten as you struggle to take air inside your lungs. The feeling made you panic more than you already were and you found yourself crawling back on your hands until your back hit the wall of the elevator. You hurriedly set the camera down next to you and begin to claw at your chest as you bring your knees up to your chest.

As more choked sobs escape your lips, the muffled sound of footsteps approaches you. You see a tall figure in your peripheral vision but can’t distinguish who it is. Everything was so blurry and you couldn’t hear a thing except for your heartbeat that began beating loudly in your eardrums.

You flinch rather harshly when you feel someone wrap their arms around you. You keep your head down as you allow the person to bring you against their chest.

“y/n.” The person calls. They tap your shoulder a few times to get you to look up at them. At the sight of an all too familiar mop of red hair, you find yourself relaxing a little. “There you are! Look, I need you to listen to my voice okay? Can you hear me?” Nick asks, his voice nothing but soft as he looks down at your trembling frame. It takes a moment for you to register the male’s question but when it finally clicks, you slowly nod your head.

“Okay, I need you to try your best and follow my breathing okay? Chris went to the car to grab some headphones and he’ll be back but as of right now, we need to try to ground ourselves okay? I’m right here. Just try to follow me.”

You manage to focus your still slightly blurry vision on Nick’s mouth and wait for him to start going through a few simple deep breathing exercises before you attempt to follow. The moment you try to inhale, you immediately begin to cough your heart out. You shake your head with a small whimper and lean your head against the redhead’s bicep as you feel your heart tighten.

“No, no, no. y/n, we need to try again. Come on, lift your head please.” Nick leans back a little to get you off him before he gently cups the side of your face, the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression as you begin hyperventilating breaking his heart. “Where the fuck is Chris? Does that mother fucker not know how to unlock a car and find a single pair of fucking headphones?” Nick looks behind him and locks eyes with Colby who’s looking down at the two of you worriedly.

“He’s coming!” Sam exclaims, heavy exhales escaping his lips as he runs back to the three of you.

“Fucking finally. God, my grandmother would be faster than his ass and she’s half fucking blind.” Colby smacks both of his hands over his face to muffle his laughter as Sam giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. Nick smiles softly and focuses his attention back on you as Chris runs up to the four of you.

“Here. I could only find yours.” The younger pants out as he holds the redhead’s Apple headphones out in front of him.

“That’s fine. What took you so fucking long?” Nick grumbles as he takes the headphones with his left hand and hurriedly digs in his pocket with the other.

“I couldn’t find the car.” Nick quickly looks up and sends a glare to Chris who’s rubbing his nape and looking down at his shoes.

“Of course you couldn’t.” After taking his phone out, the redhead quickly connects his headphones and opens up Spotify. “y/n look at me for a second. I need to put these on you.” You hesitantly comply and lift your head to allow the male to gently set his headphones on your head. After ensuring they’re comfortably over your ears, he quickly searches for a playlist that you and he often listen to and pushes play. The moment the soft beats of Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish fill your ears, you find yourself claiming down nearly instantly.

You shut your eyes and allow yourself to get absorbed in the music as you lean against Nick again. You feel the latter wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, one of his hands softly hitting your back in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat begins to follow the beat made and you soon find yourself calming down. When you’re finally able to breathe properly, you let out a soft exhale and slowly open your eyes.

“Thank you, Nick.” You mumble softly, a faint sniffle coming shortly after your comment.

“Of course,” Nick replies with a small smile. The boys allow you to take a few minutes to get yourself together before you pull away from Nick’s embrace and pull the headphones off your head and set them around your neck. The redhead intently watches as you stand up to your feet, his eyes watching your every move as you heavily exhale and look down at Matt’s horse necklace in your hand.

“We need to get him back. I don’t care what we have to do, I need him back.” You state as you lift your head and look at Sam and Colby who are a few steps away from you.

“I don’t really know how to hit the rewind button on this ritual per se. I didn’t think it’d work so I didn’t bother looking up how to bring something back.” Sam says as he looks down and rubs his nape, his lips forming into a straight line as he stares at the floor.

“Well if you guys don’t figure out a way to get Matt back, I will not hesitate to do this stupid ritual over and over again until it takes me to the same universe he’s in. I'm sorry if I sound like a total jackass but I literally can’t live without Matt. And neither can Chris and Nick. We all need him back”

“Sam and I will scavenge the internet to try to find a way to fix this, promise. But as for right now, we need all of you guys to get out of the elevator.” Colby says, his voice soft as he mentions for you and Nick to step out. You exhale heavily and gently nod your head before you walk out of the elevator, Nick following close behind you.

You immediately make your way over to Chris who’s sitting on a bench across from the elevator. You look over at the male after sitting next to him and gently tap his knee to snap him out of the faint daze he’s in. After a moment, the male finally looks over at you and a frown immediately takes over your features at the sight of the male’s tear-filled eyes.

“Oh Chris…” You mumble. You quickly wrap an arm around the latter’s shoulder to pull him against your side. When you do, the male doesn’t hesitate to bury his face in your neck.

“I want Matt back.” Chris mumbles, his voice breaking slightly as he bites back the tears threatening to spill from his glossy eyes.

“I know. We all do.” As you begin to rub comforting circles on Chris’ back, Nick takes a seat on the other side of the male and joins your attempts of calming him down.

“Hey, guys?” Colby calls, his voice echoing in the elevator and seeping out into the hall.

“What’s up? You find something else?” Sam asks as he quickly makes his way over to the male.

“Yes, actually. I found a note under the camera but I can’t decipher it for the life of me.”

“What?” You quickly pick your head up and look over at Colby who’s stepping out of the elevator and looking intently at the camera in his hand. “Lemme see.”

The ghost hunter makes his way over to you and takes a small sheet of yellow paper off the bottom of the camera. You watch as his eyes skim over it a few more times before he hands it to you. Colby was right. On the small yellow sheet was horrible handwriting that was in…

Crayon?

“It looks like a kid wrote it.” You say, your eyes squinting as you try your best to decipher the words written.

“A kid?” Nick asks as he and Chris quickly turn around to look at you. Both boys lean closer to get a better look at the note in your hand, the same bewildered expressions appearing on their faces as they stare at the writing.

“Yall don’t think that Samantha wrote it, right?” Chris asks as he rips his gaze away from the note to look up at Sam and Colby who are already looking down at the three of you.

“I’m not sure... How could she send a note to us?” Sam asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his face deep in thought as he also stares down at the note in your hand.

“Wait, is the onvoy still out?” You ask as you hand the note to Nick who has his hand out in front of him, gesturing you to give him the small piece of paper.

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Colby replies as he walks over to the said device that has been discarded in the middle of the floor. “You wanna ask something?”

“Yes please.” Colby gently nods his head and sets the onvoy next to you on the bench. You force your lips together in a straight line, a sudden surge of fear filling your veins as you stare down at the device. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, you ask your question.

“Samantha, are you the one that wrote the note that’s under the camera?”

Silence fills the lobby the moment the question escapes your lips. You take a glance up at Colby before you turn your attention back to the onvoy, nervousness filling your body as you begin to hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears.

Why isn’t it-

Your thought gets cut off when you feel a quick jab on the side of your thigh. Your breath quickly hitches as you flinch and quickly turn around, fear glossing over your eyes as you move closer to Chris. The moment you go to open your mouth to say something, the sound of the onvoy dinging alters the five of you. You quickly turn your head around at the sound and lean in closer to the onvoy to read the glowing response.

“It says yes.” You read, quickly leaning away from the device after you feel a cold shiver run down your spine.

“Wait, how the hell did she get the note to us?” Colby asks as he picks up the device and switches it off.

“I have no clue. And I kinda don’t wanna know so.” You reply, your voice trailing off as you hug your torso.

“I know what this says,” Nick states as he holds the yellow note in between his fingers. At the male’s statement, you and the rest of the boys quickly look over at him.

“What does it say?” Chris asks as he leans against the redhead’s shoulder, smiling slightly as he manages to make him fall back a little.

“It says mirror room but it’s just horribly misspelled. I mean it makes sense since Samantha is a literal child but.” Nick replies, a faint grunt escaping his lips as he pushes Chris off him and sits upright.

“Mirror room?” Sam repeats, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he takes a glance over at Colby.

“Is she talking about the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine?” Chris asks, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks up at the two ghost hunters in front of him. The moment the question escapes Chris’ lips, a small giggle escapes you at the feeling of two pokes coming in contact with your side again.

“Samantha, I am not built for this, please do this to Chris. He’s right here.” You beg as you quickly slam your arm firmly against your side. When you use your free hand to gently pat the younger triplet’s shoulder, the male’s face grows pale as his eyes widen in pure fear.

“Why would you say that?” Chris asks through gritted teeth. “Samantha, she doesn’t mean it. Please keep messing with her, not me.”

“Wait, maybe Samantha is trying to communicate with us through y/n. You know, considering how she touched her immediately after Chris asked the question.” Colby says as he points a single finger towards you and he looks over at the blonde next to him.

“Samantha, if you would like to communicate with us through y/n instead of the onvoy, could you poke her two times for us?” Sam asks, his question causing your jaw to drop to the floor.

“Guys, this is fucked uP-!” You say, your speech getting cut off by you giggling at the feeling of two pokes being delivered on your side. Your giggles soon turn into a small whine as you cover your face with both your hands and lean against Chris’ arm.

“Did she poke you once or twice?” Sam asks.

“Twice.” You grumble in response. “This is so fucked up why me out of all of us?”

Sam shrugs in response. “Not sure. But at least we know how to communicate with her better.” Colby nods his head at the blonde’s comment as he lands a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Now, Samantha, would you like us to go to the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine? Remember, one poke no, two pokes yes.”

The moment the question is asked, you feel Chris jerk away from you, a stream of panicked giggles spewing from his lips as he reaches for Nick.

“Thank you, Samantha.” You say aloud, a small smile visible on your lips as you look over at the two boys next to you.

“Did she poke you, Chris?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping him as he watches the latter hurriedly rub his left side.

“Yeah. Twice.” Chris replies, a frown forming on his lips as sends a quick glare in your direction. At the male’s intense look, you give him an innocent smile and quickly jab your hand into his side. A chuckle escapes you when Chris lets out a choked laugh and stumbles off the bench. “Bro, this isn’t funny!” The male exclaims as he lays on the floor and covers his face with his hands.

“It’s a little funny,” Nick says with a smile as he bends down to reach the younger male on the floor. He lands a quick poke near Chris’ underarm and giggles when the male squeals and rolls away from him. “Dude, you squeal like a little girl.”

“Nick, I will fucking rock your shit. Don’t play with me right now.” Chris says through gritted teeth as he sits up and leans against his arms. Nick raises his hands in defense and takes a seat closer to you as Sam walks up to the male on the floor.

“Come on, I think we should head over to The Mezzanine,” Sam says as he holds his hand out in front of him. Chris looks up at the blonde for a moment, a small smile sneaking onto his lips as he grabs his hand and allows the male to help him to his feet. “y/n you wanna lead the way?”

You slide your tongue over your teeth as you look over at Sam, your stomach churning out of anxiousness before you quickly avert your gaze from him to Nick. When you turn to the male, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and gets up. The moment he holds his hand out for you, you smile widely and grab it as you follow suit in getting up.

“Yeah. Let's head over there.”

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

“Okay, someone go in first I don’t fuck with the dark.” You say. After a few minutes of searching the hotel, you and the boys managed to find the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine. The moment you walked up to the doors and saw that the room was pitch black inside, you quickly backed away and walked behind Nick and grabbed both of his arms, basically making him your shield.

“Hell no, I'm not going in first either!” Nick exclaims as he turns around and puts you back in front of him.

“God, y'all are a bunch of pussys,” Chris mumbles as he walks past you and Nick to get to the door. After swiftly opening it, the male enters the large room and begins his short search for the light switch. Upon finding it, the boy turns all the lights on with a single flick of the finger. “Yall coming in or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” You mumble, sending a look to Nick before you join Chris inside the room. As the rest of the boys trail behind you, you begin to wander deeper inside the room, your eyes staying glued onto the mirrors as you quickly observe them.

“Okay, now why would Samantha bring us here? It’s just a room full of mirrors.” Nick asks, his eyes following your frame as you continue to walk around the room.

“Maybe she left another note?” Colby suggests as he sets his backpack and camera down on the floor against the wall.

“Let’s start looking around the-“

“Matt?” At your sudden exclamation, all the boys quickly whip their heads around in your direction. They silently watch as you run up to the mirror at the end of the room with wide eyes before they all run up after you.

“What happened?” Nick asks as he stops behind you and sets both his hands on your shoulders.

“I saw Matt in the mirror.” You say, stumbling over your words slightly as you point to the mirror in front of you. “I managed to catch a glimpse of his hair before he walked to the left.”

“Are you sure you saw him?” Colby asks, his voice holding a sense of uncertainty as he raises an eyebrow and looks up at the mirror in front of all of you.

“I swear on my life it was Matt! I could recognize his ass from a mile away!” You slip away from the group to walk to the mirror to your left. The mirror that Matt walked towards. You stand in front of the said mirror and your hold on his horse necklace tightens as you desperately look around the glass.

You needed to prove to the guys that you weren’t seeing things. They probably think you're going insane right now and you can’t have that.

The moment you go to walk to the next mirror, you feel a small tug on your sleeve. You quickly jump away with wide eyes and cover the area where you got touched.

“Samantha is that you?” You call out, your statement drawing the attention to the group of boys still standing in front of the other mirror. At the feeling of two small pokes on your knee, you heavily exhale and nod your head softly. “Can I see Matt in the mirrors?” Another two pokes. “See! She said yes!”

“But how is that possible? You can’t see another person in a mirror unless they’re in front of it.” Sam says as he walks up to you, the rest of the boys following close behind him.

“I have no idea how it’s possible but Samantha confirmed that I’m not going crazy.” You don't wait for the blonde to stop in front of you before you walk off to the next mirror. Sam stops in his tracks and looks back at Colby, a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he locks eyes with the male. The latter simply shrugs in response and pats the blonde’s shoulder before he, Nick, and Chris follow you.

“Matt?” You call you again, your eyes desperately searching the mirrors in hopes of seeing your boyfriend again. You let out a frustrated huff when you reach the end of the wall. No Matt here. You quickly turn on your heels to begin your search on the other wall. The moment you walk up to the first mirror, your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on an all too familiar mop of chocolate brown hair. “MATT!”

You run up to the mirror showcasing your boyfriend curled up in a tight ball against a wall with both of his arms covering his head. The closer you got to the mirror, the more you could faintly make out his rapid and labored breaths.

“Matt?” You shout as you delicately set your fingertips on the glass. You watch with wide eyes as Matt quickly looks up and whips his head around, trying to find who called him.

“Hello?” The male calls out, his voice sounding rather muffled as he hurriedly stands up.

“Matt it’s me, y/n! Can you hear me?”

“y/n?..”

At the sound of quickening footsteps approaching you, you quickly turn around to see all the boys coming up to you. The same shocked expression can be seen on all of their faces as they look up at the mirror.

“It’s fucking Matt.” Chris breathes, tears welling up in his eyes as he grabs onto Nick’s bicep.

“How the hell…” Colby mumbles.

“Matt!” Nick shouts as he drags Chris up to where you are standing directly in front of the mirror.

“Nick?” Matt calls, his voice wavering slightly as he clutches his clothed chest.

“Matt, we’re all here. Me, Nick, Chris, Sam, and Colby. Can you see us?” You ask. You all watch as Matt rubs his eyes with his palms and looks around aimlessly.

“No...” Matt replies sadly as a frown overtakes his lips.

“Matt, do you see a mirror anywhere by any chance?” Sam asks as he and Colby walk closer to the mirror.

“Umm…” Matt’s voice trails off as he begins to walk around. The moment he goes to walk outside of the mirror, you all yell at him.

“NO, MATT!” You all exclaim in unison. The male jumps at y’all’s exclamation and quickly walks back to where he was.

“Look in front of you,” Chris instructs, a small giggle escaping him as he watches his brother cross his arms over his chest with a frustrated exhale. Matt complies and looks straight ahead, his eyes widening slightly when his gaze lands on a small mirror with a black frame.

“I see one!” Matt exclaims as he quickly runs up to it. As he does so, he nearly takes up the entire space of the mirror the five of you are looking in, his tall frame looking over you guys as he scans the mirror on his side. You and the boys immediately begin to back up to get a better view of the male, small chuckles escaping a few of you at the sight of Matt mimicking a mine as he sets his hands on the glass.

“Can you see us in-“ You cut yourself off when Matt suddenly yelps and jumps to the side.

“What the fuc-“ The male starts, cutting himself off when he looks to his side and sees something.

“What happened?” You ask, worry washing over you as you see Matt take a few steps back, his eyes wide in fear.

“Samantha’s next to me.”

“WHAT?” Chris exclaims, his jaw-dropping as he quickly whips his head around to face Sam and Colby, the two sharing the same expression as him.

“Wait, we can’t see her,” Nick says, his eyebrows furrowing together as he over at the space that Matt is looking down at. You watch intently as Matt reaches his hand next to him, your eyes widening when you see a yellow sheet of paper appear in his hand moments later.

“That’s the same sheet that was under the camera,” Colby states, earning a small head nod from you and the other boys.

“Thanks,” Matt says slowly. You see the male smile slightly before he looks down at the paper in his hand. “Awh, this is wonderful Samantha thank you.”

“What’d she give you?” The moment the question slips out of Sam’s lips, Matt flips the paper over and holds it against the mirror, allowing the five of you to see it. You can’t help the large smile appearing on your lips when your eyes land on the shark drawn with a blue crayon on the yellow sheet of paper.

“Awh, that’s so cute!” Chris gushes as he jumps a few times.

“Do they like it?” You hear a small voice ask. Collective gasps emit from you and the boys the second you guys hear the voice.

“Yes, they love it,” Matt confirms with a smile. A small, high-pitched giggle rings through your ears before Matt faces the mirror again. “Guys I'm fucking petrified here please bring me back.”

“We’re not finding anything on how to get you back, Matt,” Colby says, a frown appearing on his lips. Matt covers his face with both his hands as a shaky exhale escapes him. You find yourself shaking your head slightly as you force your lips together and dig your hand in your pocket to take your phone out. The moment you unlock the device, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Nick says softly, his minty breath fanning over the right side of your face as he peers down at your phone.

“Trying to find a way on how to bring Matt back.” You reply, your thumbs quickly tapping the screen as you google the ritual Matt did in the elevator. Silence fills the room as you type away on your phone, your eyebrows knitting together as a determined and focused expression spreads across your face.

“Home?” You quickly pick your head up the second Samantha’s voice fills your ears. You watch Matt remove his hands from his face, your expression falling into one of worry at the sight of your boyfriend’s glossy eyes, before he looks down at the space he was looking at previously.

“What was that?” Matt asks softly, a small sniffle escaping him as he quickly wipes away the tear that escapes his eye.

“You wanna go home?” You hear Samantha ask.

“Yes, I really wanna go home,” Matt replies as he furiously nods his head.

“You don’t belong here?”

“No, I don’t. I belong somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Just somewhere else.”

“With y/n?” You feel your heart skip a beat the moment your name escapes the little girl’s lips.

Matt’s eyes widen and his words get caught in his throat for a moment before he hurriedly replies. “Yes with y/n. With my two brothers and friends too.”

“How did you get here if you don’t belong here?”

“I decided to play a little game that I shouldn’t have played by myself.”

“What game?”

“Just a little game in the elevator.”

“Oh! I know that one!”

Matt’s face falls into one of worry the moment Samantha answers. “You do?..” Matt asks, his voice trailing off as he takes a glance over at the mirror next to him.

“Yes! I like to play it with my friends! We get to go somewhere else if it works! It’s a lot of fun.”

“Wait, do you know how to take me back to where I belong then?”

“You belong in the place where me and my friends go?”

“Yes! Yes, I do.” As you hear the small girl hum softly, you quickly turn around to look back at the boys behind you.

“She knows about the elevator game.” You say, your voice soft and low as you try to not get Samantha to hear you.

“Let’s hope she knows how to send Matt back,” Chris adds as he begins to nibble on his bottom lip.

“I think so.” You hear Samantha say. You could tell she was rather unsure with her reply due to her voice going up a few octaves at the end of her sentence.

“Could you try to send me back, please?” Matt asks as he looks down at the girl, a pleading expression clear on his face.

“Yeah! Come with me!” Without allowing the male to get another word out, Samantha grabs Matt’s hand and pulls him away and out of the mirror. The second the male vanishes, your face drops and you quickly turn around to face the boys behind you.

“We have to go back to the lobby. Now.” You state, giving all the males a stern look before you exit the Maximilian.

“y/n, wait up!” Nick exclaims as he begins to run after you, the other three boys soon running after the both of you.

Matt’s POV

The constant colors of blue and yellow have been blinding my vision the entire time I’ve gotten to this universe. This world is a replica of the regular world apart from the fact that the majority of this world is in those two colors. While wandering around this universe’s hotel, I did encounter a hallway that was a different color. However, I didn't think about walking down it considering how it was a deep red color. And if my representations of colors were correct, I know that you should always stray away from red since it’s often tied to danger.

Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect this elevator ritual to work so when it did, I had a full-blown freakout. I mean, why would I not? I’m in a different universe and couldn’t contact anyone. Not to mention how the camera I was using to record myself and my horse necklace completely vanished into thin air the second I got ‘transferred’ over here.

Adding to my list of things I didn’t expect, I didn’t expect to be able to see hundreds of spirits walking around. No one seemed to care about how I was there and kept going on their merry way, floating around the hotel grounds as I wandered around like a lost child in a grocery store. I almost gave up on my search trying to figure out where the hell I was and how to get out but when I heard y/n’s voice, I gained a little bit of hope. But the fact that I couldn’t see her and the rest of the guys frustrated me heavily. And they could somehow see me? I have no idea how that makes sense but I didn’t even bother asking because I was sure they wouldn’t have an answer.

My first encounter with Samantha while I was talking with y/n was absolutely terrifying. The little girl that I saw in a painting was standing next to me and communicating with me. She had a bright yellow aura surrounding her, which was a great contrast to the other spirits who held a dull gray one. I’m assuming that she was the only one who had this aura because she’s a kid and still has that child-like innocence to her. But the moment she mentioned that she and her friends played the elevator game for fun, I could not believe my ears.

I mean, she doesn’t know better and probably thinks it’s all fun and games but to me, it’s the complete opposite. That little game of hers got me here in the first place. Now, I'm not blaming her because she's a literal child and has no control over this but the elevator game being fun??? That’s just mind-boggling.

“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, my eyes squinting as Samantha’s aura begins to blind me.

“The elevator, silly!” The little girl replies, a small giggle emitting from her smiley lips as she continues to drag me down the blue and yellow hallways. A small sigh escapes my lips as I continue to let Samantha lead me to the first floor, thankfully with the use of the stairs, and to the lobby where the elevators were. “Get in!” With a small push of a button, the elevator doors open to reveal a purple-filled space with blotches of yellow coating the brims of the elevator walls.

“Good to know there’s no red in here,” I mumble under my breath.

“What did you say?” Samantha quickly turns around on her heels, her dress momentarily twirling around her as she looks up at me with large doe eyes.

“Nothing.” I give the girl a small smile before I enter the elevator. I immediately excuse myself to go to the corner as Samantha enters right after me. As she walked up to the panel of buttons, I could faintly hear her humming a soft tune, her body subconsciously swaying along to the tune. After pushing the button for the first floor, she turns back around and walks up to me.

“Will you come back to visit me?” Samantha asks with a large toothy grin. I feel my heart ache as the small girl looks up at me. As I force my lips into a straight line, I begin to have a small mental battle about whether or not I should be honest with her.

“I’m not sure, Sammy. I really wanna go back home.” I reply softly.

“Can I come with you?” The moment Samantha asks me that question, I feel my heart drop. Panic immediately fills my body as I blink down at the girl in front of me.

“No, I'm sorry. You need to stay here with your friends. They’ll miss you if you don’t come back.”

As Samantha’s smile forms into a pout, the elevator dings faintly before the doors open. I watch as the small girl turns around and goes to push the next floor, her pout not faltering.

“y/n seems nice,” Samantha says softly as she makes her way back to me.

“She is a wonderful girl. I’m very lucky to have her in my life.” I comment as my lips form into another large smile.

“I think she’s scared of me.” My smile falls into a slight frown as I look down at Samantha.

“What makes you think that?”

“Every time I try to get her attention, she always looks so scared. She hasn’t looked as scared the last few times I poked her but I know she’s scared of me.” As Samantha picks her head up to look at me, I feel my heart shatter as I take in her large and glossy doe eyes. “Am I scary?”

“Oh no, not at all Sammy.” The moment I open my arms, Samantha runs closer to me and crashes into me. As I wrap my arms around her and gently pat her head, the small girl nuzzles her face into my stomach.

“Are you sure?” Samantha asks, her voice cracking as tears begin to run down her small face.

“I’m sure, sweetheart. You are not scary at all. In fact, you are quite adorable and so sweet.” I reassure the girl as I begin to run her back comfortingly. As Samantha sniffles softly, the faint ding of the elevator doors opening causes me to lift my head. I let out a small sigh before I bend down and lift the girl into my arms. As I make my way over to the panel of buttons, Samantha wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my shoulder.

Carrying this small kid has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. She practically weighs nothing and my skin is tingling.

Why am I tingling?..

“Hey, Sam?” I call, my index finger gently poking the said girl’s side. I smile softly when she squirms away with a high-pitched giggle.

“Yes?” Samantha replies as she lifts her head off my shoulder to look over at me.

“What floor do we go to next?”

“Six!”

“Alright, thank you.” Samantha hums softly in response and returns to her spot on my shoulder. After I push the bottom to the sixth floor, I walk back to the corner I was previously at. Comfortable silence fills the elevator as I continue to hold Samantha close against me, her soft breath tickling my neck as she begins to faintly hum the same tune from earlier.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Your POV

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the elevator as Salt In The Wound by boygenius fills your ears. You can see Sam and Colby talking to one another in your peripheral vision, however you can’t make out their voices due to the headphones on your head.

You had no idea how to wrap your head around what happened 15 minutes ago. You thought you lost Matt for good yet you were able to talk with him through a mirror. The whole thing sorta of reminded you of Bloody Mary but minus all the scary aspects. The fact that Matt was able to physically see and communicate with Samantha while he was in the other universe was pretty shocking to you. You hope that the girl will stay true to her word and help your boyfriend back in this world.

God knows you desperately need him back.

You get snapped out of your pacing and your daze by a small tap on your shoulder. You flinch rather harshly and rip the headphones off your head, your eyes mimicking those of a deer caught in headlights as you stare wide-eyed at the person who tapped you.

“Fucking hell, Chris. You scared the shit out of me.” You say as you clutch your chest.

“My bad.” Chris apologizes with a small smile. “Nick wants you to eat something.” At the male’s statement, you turn your head and immediately make eye contact with Nick who’s holding his hand out, an open pack of fruit snacks on the palm of his hand. At the sight of the snack, your mouth shapes into a small oval before you scurry over to the redhead and take a seat next to him. The moment the male hands you the pack, you shoot him a large toothy grin before you indulge in the snack.

“I can’t be the only one who can’t believe what just happened,” Colby says as he rubs the side of his face with his hand.

“No, I can’t either. That was fucking insane.” Nick agrees as he quickly points over to the male before he fishes another pack of fruit snacks from his pocket.

“It reminded me of Bloody Mary a little bit. You know since they both deal with mirrors.” Sam chimes in as he nibbles on a single club cracker.

“Me too!” You exclaim, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you continue chewing on your gummies.

“Do you guys really think that Samantha will help Matt? I mean, she is a little kid after all.” Nick asks as he stuffs a few fruit snacks in his mouth.

“I don’t know but I hope she’s able to bring him back.” You reply as you sigh gently and continue chewing.

“Hey guys?” Chris calls. You and the rest of the boys quickly look over at the male who’s looking at the elevator with slightly wide eyes.

“What’s up?” Sam asks as he lifts himself off the wall he’s leaning against to walk over to the youngest triplet.

“Was the elevator always on the fifth floor?” Your head quickly turns to look over at the number atop the elevator. And low and behold was the number five shining brightly above the golden doors.

“Wait, why is it blue?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the bluish glow emitting around the number. “Wasn’t it always white?”

“Yeah, it was…” Colby replies, his voice trailing off as he takes a stand next to you. “That’s weird.”

The moment you go to fix your gaze back to the half-empty pack of gummy snacks in your hand, the sound of Chris gasping rather loudly causes you to pick your head up again.

“What’d I miss?” You ask quickly as you look over at the male.

“The number is going down,” Chris replies as he points up to the number shining brightly atop of elevator doors. Your eyes widen the moment that statement escapes Chris’ lips and you quickly look over at the elevator again.

“What the actual fuck…” You hear Nick mumble next to you. You feel your heart beat loudly in your ears as you watch the number above the elevator slowly go down. The moment the number one appears, your eyes quickly shift over to the elevator doors. You had no idea what was happening but you knew that the elevator arrived at the floor all of you were currently on. It could be that another person is taking the elevator and they’re coming to the lobby but why was it stuck on the fifth floor?

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a small ding coming from the elevator. Subconsciously, you reach over to Nick and grab his hand for mental support as you hear your heartbeat quicken in your ears. After a few moments, the elevator doors slowly begin to open. After it finally opens halfway and you don’t see anyone, your gaze falls back to the pack of fruit gummies in your hand.

Stupid fucking haunted ele-

“MATT!” You hear Nick exclaim, his hold on your hand vanishing as he quickly gets up and runs to the elevator. You quickly pick your head up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name and see all the boys rushing inside the elevator. Your mind seems to lag for a minute as you sit there, frozen, until you finally get back to reality and join everyone in the elevator. You nudge your way through the small crowd of boys to get to the middle and the moment you see an all too familiar set of blue eyes look down at you, tears immediately begin to well in your eyes.

“Matt.” You sob. You immediately crash into your boyfriend’s arms when he walks closer to you and opens his arms out. You bury your face into Matt’s chest and curl your fingers against his clothed back as a steady flow of tears runs down your cheeks. “You’re back.”

“I'm back, I'm right here,” Matt whispers softly as he begins to land soft kisses on the top of your head. The male shuts his eyes tightly and takes in your comforting scent as he begins to tear up himself.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” You remove yourself from Matt’s chest to look up at him. “Never do that shit again. I won’t let you.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Matt brings a hand up to the left side of your cheek to cup your face, this thumb beginning to wipe away your tears as he locks eyes with you. A few beats of silence pass by before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts y’all’s small moment.

“I apologize for interrupting but I’m feeling quite claustrophobic here,” Nick says as he gestures to the small space around him.

“Yeah, and I think I’d like to leave this trauma-inducing elevator,” Matt adds with a smile, his statement earning faint laughs from all the boys. You watch as all the guys file out of the elevator and walk back into the lobby. Before you grab Matt’s hand to pull him out with you, you turn back to face the male with a small smile. The brunette shifts his gaze down towards you and smiles softly before you decide to grab his face and pull him down to capture his lips for a quick kiss.

“Never thought I’d be able to kiss you again.” You say after you pull back, the same smile visible on your lips.

“Hey! No sucking face in the elevator!” You both hear Chris exclaim. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the boy’s statement before you take Matt’s hand in yours and pull him out of the elevator.

“I think it’s safe to call it a night,” Colby says, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he picks his backpack up off the floor.

“I thought we still had the Estes Method to do,” Chris says, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches the two ghost hunters collect their equipment.

“Well…” Sam starts as he detaches the light from one of the cameras. “We do but a lot has gone down and I think we should wrap things up here. Right, Matt?”

“Most definitely. I saw and interacted with enough spirits today.” Matt confirms as he rapidly nods his head in agreement.

“We can pick up another day if you guys want. I think we have plenty of footage for the video but we’ll release something at the end explaining what happened with Matt without giving away too much information.” Colby suggests as he swings his bag over his shoulder, one of his hands resting against the strap to hold it in place.

“We can pick back up in two days,” Nick says, taking a glance over at Matt and Chris and waiting to gain small head nods of approval from them before he looks back at Sam and Colby. “We do have another week here.”

“Well, let us know. You guys do not have to continue the investigation if y'all don’t want to. As Colby said, we should have enough footage for the video.” Sam reassures, a small smile appearing on his lips as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“We will,” Matt says with a smile of his own.

“Well, we’ll see you guys later. We still have that dinner reservation in three days so don’t forget!” Colby exclaims as he points a finger at all of you.

“We won’t.” Chris chuckles. “Thanks for inviting us guys!”

“Dude, of course.” You and the triplets begin to share quick hugs with Sam and Colby before the six of you begin to head towards the exit of the hotel. Upon arriving at the front doors, Matt holds the door open for you to allow you to be the first person to step outside. When you do, you take in your first breath of fresh air with a content smile.

“God, how much I missed seeing the outside world.” You sigh as you turn around to face the rest of the boys.

“Oh me too.” Colby agrees with a rapid head nod.

“We’ll see y'all later! You guys make it back to your hotel safely.” Matt says as he walks up to you, his left hand instinctively going to reach out to grab yours

“Yall too! Goodnight guys!” Sam shouts with a large smile as he and Colby wave goodbye to the four of you. You and the triplets bid farewell to the ghost hunters before walking through the parking lot in search of the van.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see a car in my entire life,” Matt mumbles as he takes his car keys out. As the male unlocks the car, you giggle softly and watch as Nick and Chris hop in the back. Matt looks over at you and lands a quick kiss on your forehead before he brings you to the passenger door. You slip inside the car with a small smile when the male opens it and gently shuts it when you get yourself situated in your seat.

“God I'm fucking exhausted.” Nick breathes as leans against the car window, his eyes shutting in the process.

“Ima knock out. I kid you not.” Chris adds as he pulls his seatbelt over his body.

“Y'all better wake the hell up when we get to the hotel. I’m not carrying y'all up to the room.” Matt says as he slips in the driver's seat, a soft thud coming from the door after he shuts it.

You manage to catch Nick making a talking gesture with his hand in your peripheral vision as you look over at Matt. You watch silently as the male puts his seatbelt on and pulls the gearshift down to drive. Before he begins to drive off, he looks over at you and sends you a large smile before capturing your lips for a quick kiss.

“I’m never leaving your side again.” You say as you shift in your seat to lean your head against the cold window.

“Same here. I’m never letting you out of my sight.” Matt smiles as he takes a glance at all his mirrors. After backing out of his parking spot, your boyfriend reaches over to grab your hand as he finally drives off. As the male gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you find yourself drifting off into a deep slumber.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

A week later…

“Okay Matt, this is starting to scare me. Do I need to make you an appointment right now?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“Matt you’ve been on the floor for the past five minutes and you look like you’re fucking giving birth. You are clearly not fine.”

“What’s happening?” You ask as you walk inside the warehouse, the door shutting close behind your heels as you forcefully pull it shut.

“Look at your boyfriend,” Nick says as he points down at the said male. You follow the redhead’s finger and worry washes over you when you see Matt curled up on the floor, his eyes screwed shut as a pained expression paints his face. You quickly set the McDonald's bags in your hands down on the nearby sofa before hurrying over to Matt.

“Baby, this is the third time I’ve found you like this this week.” You say as you sit down near the brunette’s head. After Matt doesn’t say anything and simply rests his head in your lap, you let out a small sigh and begin to card your hand through the male’s hair. “Is it still your lower back?”

Matt gently nods his head. “It really fucking hurts. It’s like a bunch of tiny needles pricking my skin. It feels so weird and tingly.” Matt mumbles, a sharp hiss escaping him shortly after he finishes his sentence.

“Matt, again?” You hear Chris ask, his footsteps becoming louder as he walks into the room. You hear the male sigh before you take a glance up at him.

“You guys are acting like I'm in control of this fucking happening. Cut me some slack, holy shit.” Matt grumbles as he digs his face into your thigh.

“Have you texted Sam or Colby?” Chris asks, averting his question to you as he raises a single brow.

“No… why would I?” You question back, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you send the male a look.

“I have a gut feeling that they have an idea about what’s happening. Just saying.” Chris shrugs as he makes his way to the McDonald's bags on the sofa. You shake your head with a small chuckle when the male digs in one of the bags and takes out his food before he walks off.

“Should I text one of them?” You ask as you look over at Nick who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You can if you want. It’ll shut Chris up.” The redhead replies with a shrug. You gently nod your head and pull your phone out of your pocket. “Maybe text Colby. He responds a lot quicker than Sam.” You give Nick a thumbs-up before opening your chat with Colby. You twirl your thumbs around the keyboard for a moment trying to figure out what to say before you finally start typing.

You: hey colby ? I have a question to ask you

Colby: Ask away!

You: so matt has been having these pains in his back and i was wondering if you had an idea as to why he’s been having them

I know it’s random but chris had a hunch that you guys might know soo …

Colby: His back…?

You: yea

Colby: Like his lower? Upper?

You: lower

Colby: Oh shit

You: what … what’s wrong

Colby: I think Matt got an attachment

You: a WHAT ?!?

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