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'Silent Strain' | part I

Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

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summary: Joel and you knew that bringing a child into this mad world was a mistake, but he wanted to give you the best that was left of that world after all.

w.c: 12,6k (this was 5k at the beginning)

warnings: established relationship, age gap (Joel is 43 and Reader 32) angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, fluff, not proofreading, sorry. The events of this story happen 10 years after the outbreak.

a/n: New Sunday, new fic? This one was on my drafts and I thought about developing a little bit more because I wanted to write one where Joel wasn't an asshole. This may become a really short series. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Mornings in the QZ were far from a story teller, always bleak as any other, somber and carrying the weight of the guilty grieving each people who has survived this far dealt with.

Many people had become the worst versions of themselves, just monsters they never thought they would be. Others woke up with the survivor’s guilt, after years of letting go their people, family and friends.

And others carried all that, but had found a little spark shinning on their path.

That was your case.

And Joel’s too.

You both had found each other just a few years after the world descended into chaos. After that, you become each other’s anchor until now.

Even when days seemed to be grayer, even when Joel seemed a bit lost after losing his contact with Tommy.

Even on days when the world seemed grayer, even when Joel seemed a little more distant—his thoughts lost somewhere along the frayed edges of his mind, burdened by the loss of contact with Tommy—you held on. You knew what he was feeling; it was a familiar ache, a common wound you both carried.

Tommy was Joel’s last person who shared his blood. His brother, his last piece of family and what the old world had left him.

But he also had you, and that made him alive.

You woke up slowly, the thin, rough blanket tangled around your legs, the mattress beneath you creaking as you shifted. The air was cold, seeping through the cracks in the walls, and the faint light of dawn barely penetrated the small, grimy window. Outside, you could hear the sounds of the QZ waking up, the distant, muffled voices of guards changing shifts, the echo of boots on concrete, and the occasional shout. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to keep the chill at bay.

The room you and Joel shared was small, barely large enough for the bed and a rickety chair in the corner. Outside the doors, there was the rest of the old apartment that worked as a roof for the both of you, and Tess.

The walls were stained with years of neglect, paint peeling in long strips, revealing the bare concrete beneath. There was a small table near the window where a lone candle had burned down to a stub, wax pooling on the surface, solidifying in random patterns. It had been another long, sleepless night, the dark hours stretching on endlessly, and you could feel it in your bones, an ache that went deeper than simple tiredness.

You glanced over at Joel, still asleep beside you, his face etched with lines of worry even in rest. He lay on his side, one arm slung over his face, his brow furrowed as if he were fighting off some invisible enemy in his dreams. The mornings were hardest on him, you knew. Waking up to the same bleak reality day after day, the hope of finding Tommy growing thinner with each passing moment.

A wave of nausea hit you unexpectedly, a sudden queasiness that made your stomach twist. You shut your eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You hadn't been feeling well for a few days now, just a lingering discomfort you chalked up to the lack of proper food or maybe stress. Nothing in this world was kind to the body or the mind anymore.

You pushed yourself up, careful not to wake Joel, and swung your legs over the side of the bed, your feet touching the cold, cracked floor. The chill ran up your legs, making you shiver. You sat there for a moment, steadying yourself, pressing a hand against your stomach as if trying to calm the unease that rolled there. There was a strange heaviness to it, something that seemed different, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The thought crossed your mind, quick and unbidden, a possibility you immediately pushed away. It was too absurd, too impossible to consider. Not here, not now, not in this broken world.

You rose to your feet, steadying yourself on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing against the melted wax. You glanced back at Joel, who still hadn’t stirred, his breathing deep and even. You knew he needed the sleep, needed a moment of peace, however fleeting. You moved quietly toward the window, peering out through the dirt-streaked glass. The world outside was shrouded in mist, the familiar shapes of the crumbling buildings barely visible in the pale morning light.

There was a time when you might have found the sight beautiful, in a melancholic way. Now it just seemed desolate. Empty.

Another wave of nausea hit, stronger this time, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, swallowing hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. You felt a sharp pang of fear, a sudden flash of panic that cut through the fog of morning fatigue. You forced it down, tried to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to be anything else.

From behind you, you heard the faint rustle of the bed as Joel shifted, his voice rough and low. “You, okay?” he murmured, still half-asleep, his words slurred with exhaustion.

You turned to look at him, forcing a smile, though you weren’t sure he could see it in the dim light. “Yeah… just a bit cold,” you lied softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He blinked at you, eyes heavy-lidded, and then nodded, seeming to accept it. “Come back to bed,” he mumbled, his voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. “It’s still early.”

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the cold air around you, the uncertainty pressing in. But then you moved back to the bed, sliding in beside him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers of fabric. He reached out, pulling you close, his arm draping over you protectively, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of safety as Joel stirred Joel stirred, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. “Are you sure you are, okay?” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Yeah,” you whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the lie in your voice. “Just a headache.”

He kissed the top of your head, the simple gesture sending a pang of guilt through you. “You’ve been getting a lot of those lately,” he noted, concern creeping into his tone.

You forced a smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just stress, I think.”

He hummed in response, not entirely convinced but willing to let it go for now. He gently nudged you off his chest, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. His eyes searched your face, and you had to fight the urge to look away. Joel had a way of seeing right through you, and you were afraid he might catch a glimpse of the truth you were hiding.

He frowned, clearly not convinced. “You’ve been saying’ that a lot lately. Maybe you should rest today, stay in bed.”

You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t afford to take a day off. Life in the QZ was unforgiving, and everyone had to pull their weight. “I’ll be fine. We’ve got too much to do, and they’re already short-handed at the ration line.”

You forced yourself to follow suit, pushing through the lingering nausea as you pulled on your worn clothes. The headache throbbed with each movement, but you bit back the discomfort, determined not to let it show. Joel kept glancing over at you, as if expecting you to collapse at any moment, but you just offered him a reassuring smile, even if it didn’t reach your eyes.

Once you were both ready, you stepped out into the harsh reality of the QZ. The streets were crowded, people moving about with a sense of urgency, always on edge. You and Joel made your way through the throng, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through the chaos.

At the ration line, the day passed in a blur of monotonous tasks—distributing food, managing the restless crowd, keeping an eye out for trouble. But the ache in your head never fully faded, and every now and then, you had to pause, closing your eyes for a moment to steady yourself.

Joel noticed, of course. He was always watching, always worrying, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff exterior. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again when you took a brief break, his tone betraying his concern.

“Yeah, just… It’s probably just the air or something,” you said, shrugging it off. But you could tell he didn’t believe you.

“See you later, then?” he asked before parting ways with you to your different duties.

“Yeah, see you later,” you replied, forcing a smile, trying to reassure him. Joel lingered for a moment, his eyes searching yours, he planted a kiss on your lips before turning to head off to his assigned area. You watched him go, feeling a mix of guilt and relief. You hated lying to him, but what could you say? That the world seemed to be spinning just a little bit too fast? That every time you bent over, a wave of nausea washed over you? It would only make him worry more.

The hours dragged on, the sun creeping across the sky, bringing with it a sticky heat that clung to your skin. By midday, your headache had grown worse, a steady throb that pounded behind your eyes. The noise of the crowd seemed to amplify the pain, voices blending into a harsh cacophony. You rubbed at your temples, willing it to stop, but it only seemed to make it worse.

At one point, while lifting another crate filled with canned goods, a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to drop the box with a loud thud. A few people nearby turned to look, but you waved them off, trying to catch your breath. The soldier supervising the line glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “You good there?” he asked, his tone half-concerned, half-annoyed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, bending down to retrieve the cans that had spilled onto the ground. Your hands shook slightly, and you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. The soldier didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further, turning his attention back to the line.

“Then clean the mess you made” he ordered.

You nodded, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to rise again. “Yes, sir,” you replied, bending down to pick up the cans. Your fingers felt clumsy, and every time you moved, the pain in your abdomen seemed to sharpen, making it difficult to keep your breathing steady. Sweat dripped from your forehead, stinging your eyes, but you pushed through, determined not to draw any more attention to yourself.

As you gathered the last can, another wave of dizziness hit you, and you had to steady yourself against the crate to keep from toppling over. You glanced over your shoulder to see if the soldier was still watching, but he had already turned away, his focus elsewhere.

You took a deep breath, trying to will away the nausea, when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Hey, you, okay?”

Turning, you saw Tess standing there, her face set in a concerned frown. “Yeah,” you lied, forcing a weak smile. “Just a rough day.”

Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t look so good,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “You’re pale… and sweating like hell.”

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, just… tired, I guess.”

Tess didn't seem convinced. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in every detail — the paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cans. Her frown deepened, and you could practically feel the gears turning in her head.

“Look,” she said slowly, almost carefully, “I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying. And right now, you’re doing a pretty damn poor job of hiding whatever this is.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest, an uneasy thump that only made the nausea worse. You swallowed, glancing away from her probing stare. “I said I’m fine, Tess,” you repeated, but your voice came out too shaky, too uncertain. Even you didn’t believe it.

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t bullshit me,” she murmured, her tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve been off for days now… the headaches, the dizziness. I’ve seen this before. And I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about.”

You stiffened, shaking your head quickly. “No, Tess,” you whispered, almost desperate. “It’s not that… it can’t be.”

Tess’s expression softened, but there was still a hint of stubbornness there, a determination to get through to you. “Listen,” she began, her voice a little gentler. “I’m not trying to scare you, but… you need to face this. If it’s what I think it is… then you’ve got a lot to figure out.”

“Please, Tess. Not now” you pleaded.

Tess hesitated, her eyes searching your face, but she nodded slowly, relenting — at least for the moment. "Alright," she said quietly, though the concern in her voice hadn’t faded. "But you can’t keep running from this forever."

You felt a lump in your throat as you looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just… I can’t think about it right now," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "There’s too much going on, and… Joel…"

Tess sighed, crossing her arms. "I get it," she replied softly. "But, you know, you’re not alone in this. Whatever it is, you’ve got people who care about you. Joel might be rough around the edges, but… he’s not going to turn his back on you. Not now, not ever."

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you still felt like you were balancing on a knife’s edge. "I know," you said, though doubt still gnawed at you. "It’s just…"

"It’s scary," Tess finished for you, and you could only nod again, feeling suddenly very small. "But you don’t have to go through it alone, alright?" she added, her voice softening. "I’ve got your back. Always."

You gave her a weak smile, grateful for her support, even if the fear still twisted inside you. "Thanks, Tess," you whispered.

She patted your shoulder, her touch gentle, almost sisterly. "Let’s get back to it," she said, glancing back toward the line. "But promise me… you’ll think about what I said."

You nodded again, though your mind was spinning with a hundred different thoughts. "I promise," you murmured, even though you weren't sure if you meant it.

By the time you got back to the apartment, the sun was already low in the sky, casting long shadows through the broken blinds. Your legs felt heavy, your head still pounding from the stress of the day. As you pushed open the door, you were met with the stale, familiar scent of the small, dimly lit space that you and Joel called home. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet.

Your eyes scanned the room, and they quickly fell on Joel sprawled out on the bed, his face slack in sleep. But what caught your attention was the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table next to him, beside a few scattered, white pills. A flare of anger ignited in your chest.

You walked over and grabbed the bottle, knocking it down onto the floor. The sound of the glass hitting the wood was loud, but Joel didn’t stir. Frustration bubbled up inside you. “Joel,” you called out sharply, but he remained still, lost in whatever numbness he’d sought.

With a forceful shove, you shook his shoulder, your voice rising. “Joel, wake up!” you demanded. His eyes fluttered open slowly, bleary and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and groaned.

“What?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep and whatever haze the whiskey and pills had put him under.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “What the hell, Joel?” you spat out, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and worry. “You’re drinking and taking pills again? You promised me… you promised you’d stop!”

Joel blinked again, pushing himself up on one elbow, confusion and irritation crossing his face. “It’s just… it’s just to take the edge off,” he slurred, running a hand over his face. “You don’t get it.”

“No, I do get it,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “I get that you’re hurting, Joel, I get you want to know where Tommy is but this is not the way.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed, some of the grogginess leaving his gaze. “I’m trying,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I’m doing the best I can, alright? It’s not that easy…”

You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need you, Joel,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I need you here, with me… not drowning in a bottle. We’re supposed to be in this together, remember?”

He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. Finally, he let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “He is my brother, the only family I get left.” he muttered, almost too softly to hear.

“What about me?” you asked, voice trembling.

Damn, why were you getting so emotional.

Joel's brow furrowed, clearly caught off guard by your question. He blinked, as if trying to process your words, and then his expression softened. “What are you talking’ about?” he asked gently, taking a step closer to you. “Of course, you're my family. You know that. You’re everything.” His fingers brushed against your arm, tentative, as though he was still uncertain if you’d accept his touch.

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Then why does it feel like I’m not enough?” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Joel's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady but soft. “I promise you are. I’m just… I’m scared. Scared of what could happen to you… to us.”

You looked up into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything to ease the turmoil inside you. "How are you feeling'?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter, more tender than before.

The question caught you off guard. You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts. "I… I don’t know," you admitted honestly. “Tired…”

Joel nodded slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest on your shoulder. “I know, I get it,” he said quietly. “But you gotta promise me… if there’s something’ wrong, you’ll tell me”

You nodded, “I promise.”

You wrapped your arms around Joel, pulling him into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was a small comfort, a fleeting sense of security in the chaos that seemed to be swirling around you. As you clung to him, the guilt and the weight of the hidden truth about your pregnancy settled heavily on your shoulders.

Joel held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back, his touch reassuring and steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his shoulder, the words escaping almost involuntarily. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Joel’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said softly. “We’re in this together, you hear me? We’ll get through it. We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded against him, feeling a mix of relief and deep-seated worry. The truth about the pregnancy was still looming, a secret that was becoming increasingly difficult to keep. Every time you looked at Joel, you could see the love and concern in his eyes, and it made the weight of your silence feel all the more burdensome.

As you slowly pulled away from the hug, you wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your emotions. Joel looked at you with a soft expression, his worry evident but tempered with the resolve to support you no matter what.

The thoughts of your pregnancy, the uncertainty of the future, and the fear of how this might change everything were still swirling in your mind. You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered Tess's words, and you struggled with the decision of when and how to reveal the truth.

Joel seemed to sense the inner conflict you were grappling with. “If you need space, or if you need to talk about it,” he began, his voice steady, “just let me know. I’m here for you, no matter what.” You nodded, forcing a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel. I… I just need a little time.”

He nodded in understanding, and as you both sat down, the silence between you was filled with an unspoken promise of support and love.

You woke up a little later, feeling the soft warmth of Joel’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the comfort and the faint sense of security his presence provided. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of Joel’s breathing.

Gently, you eased yourself out of bed, careful not to disturb him. You tiptoed out of the bedroom, the coolness of the apartment a stark contrast to the warmth you’d left behind. As you walked through the small living space, you noticed that Tess was already up, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.

She looked up as you entered, her gaze softening. “Hey,” she said quietly, setting the cup down. “How’re you feeling?”

You offered her a small, tired smile. “Better, thanks,” you replied, taking a seat across from her. “I just needed some space to think.”

Tess nodded; her expression thoughtful. “Did you think about what I say?”

You took a deep breath, considering Tess's question. “A little,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just been overwhelming, and I’m not sure how to handle everything yet.”

Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes reflecting both concern and a hint of sadness “And?” she reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over yours. “I understand it’s overwhelming,” she said gently. “But you have to face it.”

You glanced down at your hands, gripping the edge of the table as if it might anchor you to the present moment. The room felt too small, the weight of your thoughts pressing heavily on your shoulders. “It can’t be…I’m scared” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

Tess took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Take the test, I’ll go with you” she said, showing support.

“Wha-wha-what? I don’t have any test” you said, voice trembling

Tess gave you a small, understanding smile, her hand still resting over yours. “I know,” she said softly. “But there’s a way to get one. I can ask around… discreetly. I have a contact who might be able to help.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through you. “You’d do that? For me?” The idea of someone knowing, of even a whisper of this spreading through the QZ, sent a chill down your spine. But the calm certainty in Tess’s eyes steadied you.

“Of course,” she replied without hesitation. “I’ve got your back, always. We’ve been through worse, haven’t we?”

You nodded slowly, though the tight knot in your stomach seemed to twist even more. “Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, trying to sound convinced, even though nothing had felt quite like this. “But what if… what if it’s true, Tess? What do I do then?”

Tess squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Then we figure it out, step by step,” she said. “First things first, we need to know for sure. Until then, try not to let your mind spiral, okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding again, though your mind was already a storm of thoughts and worries. You could feel the weight of this new reality settling onto your shoulders, heavier than anything you’d felt before. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”

Tess stood up, giving your hand one last comforting squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow,” she promised. “Go back to bed and try to rest.”

Your mind raced with possibilities and fears as you made your way back to the small bedroom, trying to steady your breathing, to find some calm in the storm of your thoughts.

When you slipped back into the darkened room, Joel was still lying on his side, one arm stretched across the bed as if reaching for you even in sleep. You carefully lifted the blanket and slid back under it, trying not to wake him. But as soon as you settled in, his arm instinctively curled around your waist, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of safety.

Joel's voice came out in a sleepy murmur, rough around the edges. “Where were you?” he mumbled; his breath warm against your neck. You could feel the weight of his arm, heavy and reassuring, holding you as if he sensed your unease.

“Just… talking to Tess,” you whispered back, trying to keep your voice steady.

His grip around you tightened slightly, his thumb tracing small circles against your side. Even in his half-asleep state, there was a protectiveness in the way he held you. “Everything okay?” he asked, still drowsy, but there was a hint of concern creeping into his tone.

You hesitated for a second, your heart beating faster. You didn’t want to lie, but you also couldn’t tell him—not yet, not until you knew for sure. “Yeah,” you finally replied, trying to sound convincing.

Joel made a low, comforting sound, a mix between a hum and a sigh. He nuzzled closer, his lips brushing lightly against your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as sleep tried to claim him again. “We’ll figure it out… whatever it is.”

You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words soothe the fear gnawing at your insides. But all you could do was rest your hand over his, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath your palm, grounding yourself in his presence.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, more to yourself than to him. “We always do.”

Joel’s breathing began to slow again, deepening as he drifted back to sleep. You closed your eyes, pressing yourself closer against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I love you” you whispered to him, breaking the silence. You were afraid of losing him.

For a moment, there was only the quiet of the room, the soft hum of the distant generator outside, and the gentle rhythm of Joel's breath against your skin. You wondered if he'd even heard you, or if your whispered words had been lost in the space between wakefulness and sleep.

Then, you felt his grip tighten around you, his hand moving to hold you closer, almost as if he was afraid, you might slip away. His lips brushed against your shoulder, a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky whisper in the darkness. There was a raw honesty in his words, an openness that you rarely heard from him, as if he understood the fear hidden beneath your confession.

His lips pressed against your shoulder again, this time firmer, more deliberate. "Ain't nothing gonna change that," he added softly, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb stroked gently over the fabric of your shirt, tracing soothing patterns that spoke of comfort and promises unspoken.

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling a mix of relief and longing. The fear still lingered, but in this moment, held in his arms, it felt a little more manageable. You leaned back into him, feeling the strength in his body, the steady beat of his heart against your back.

Joel held you tighter, as if sensing your need for reassurance. "We'll get through this," he whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. You and me."

You nodded against him, unable to find your voice, your heart swelling with the weight of everything unsaid. "Together," you repeated softly, your hand squeezing his, grounding yourself in his presence.

For now, that was enough.

Joel woke up slowly, his body protesting against the cold air that had settled in the room overnight. He blinked against the dim light filtering through the cracked blinds, reaching out instinctively to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. His hand moved across the sheets, finding them cool, your warmth long gone.

He sat up, a frown creasing his brow as a flicker of worry ran through him. He scanned the room, half-expecting to see you in the corner, maybe getting dressed or lost in thought, but the room was still, too still. He called your name, softly at first, then a little louder. No answer.

His heart quickened as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans from the chair and yanking them on. The apartment was quiet, eerily so, with no sign of movement or life. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he pulled them on, his gaze darting around the small space.

Where the hell were you?

He moved quickly to the kitchen, eyes scanning the counters, the sink—anywhere you might have left a note, a sign of where you’d gone. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the building settling around him. He glanced toward the front door, noticing Tess's boots missing from their usual spot. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. Neither of you were there.

He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. You wouldn’t have left without telling him, not without saying something. And Tess—she was always up to something, but she never left you behind. He felt his pulse quicken, a gnawing sense of dread creeping in as he grabbed his jacket from the hook near the door, slipping it on with practiced haste.

Joel pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, his boots echoing against the worn floorboards. He looked around, scanning for any sign of you or Tess. The hallway was empty, but a few doors down, a neighbor—a middle-aged man Joel recognized but didn’t know well—was stepping out, adjusting his coat.

“Hey,” Joel called out, his voice sharper than intended. The man looked up, surprised. “You seen them?” He gestured back to your apartment.

The man shook his head slowly, clearly unsure who Joel was referring to. “Nah, haven’t seen anyone this morning,” he replied. “Everything okay?”

Joel forced a tight smile, though his stomach was churning with worry. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered, turning away. He started down the stairs, moving quickly, almost without thinking. His mind raced, a thousand worst-case scenarios flashing through his thoughts. Where could you be? Why hadn’t you said anything?

He made his way down to the ground floor, heading toward the small communal area near the entrance, where a few people were already gathered, murmuring quietly among themselves. He scanned the room, his eyes searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or Tess.

“Joel!” A voice cut through the chatter, and he turned to see one of Tess’s contacts—Danny, a wiry guy with a nervous energy—waving him over. Joel’s heart jumped. Maybe Danny had seen you.

“Where’s Tess?” Joel asked as he approached, not bothering with pleasantries.

Danny’s face tightened slightly, and he glanced around, lowering his voice. “She went out early, looking for something… didn’t say what. Figured you knew.”

Joel clenched his jaw, frustration flaring in his chest. “And her?” he asked, his voice edged with urgency. “You see her?”

Danny shook his head. “No, man. I just saw Tess.”

Joel felt a chill run down his spine. He took a step back, his mind racing with questions. If Tess had gone out and you weren’t with her, then where the hell were you?

He turned, scanning the room one more time, then made a decision. He needed to find you, now. Whatever this was, wherever you were, he wasn’t going to wait around and let worry tear him apart.

You sat in Lydia's small, cluttered living room, nerves thrumming beneath your skin like a live wire. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old books, a comforting combination that somehow made you feel more at ease, despite the circumstances. Lydia's place was a small haven in the chaos of the QZ, filled with mismatched furniture, faded floral curtains, and a few potted plants she somehow managed to keep alive. The doctor herself, an older woman with graying hair pulled back into a messy bun, moved around the space with a calm, practiced efficiency. Her hands were steady, her expression focused but kind.

Tess stood beside you, her presence a quiet reassurance. She had her arms crossed, her foot tapping lightly against the worn wooden floor as she watched Lydia prepare a small kit on the table. Lydia glanced over at you, her eyes soft with a mixture of concern and affection. “You look pale, sweetheart,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been keeping up with your food and water?”

You managed a small nod, though your stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind,” you murmured. Your voice sounded small in the stillness of the room.

Lydia nodded knowingly, her gaze flicking to Tess for a moment before returning to you. “I’ve seen that look before,” she said softly. “It's not easy, being in this kind of situation… but you’re not alone, okay?”

You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat again. “Thanks, Lydia… I just… I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to do if… if it’s true.”

Lydia came over to you, setting a warm hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said kindly.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as she handed you a small, well-worn plastic device. A pregnancy test. It felt surreal holding it in your hand, the weight of it much heavier than its actual size.

Lydia’s expression softened. “The bathroom is down the hall,” she instructed gently. “Take your time, and when you're ready, come back out. No rush.”

You glanced at Tess, who gave you a reassuring nod. “Go on,” she urged softly. “I’ll be right here.”

Swallowing hard, you stood up, clutching the test in your hand, and made your way down the narrow hallway to the small, dimly lit bathroom. The old mirror above the sink was cracked, reflecting your nervous expression in fragmented pieces. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool tile under your bare feet, and tried to steady your racing heart.

The minutes stretched out as you stood there, staring at the test in your hands, feeling the weight of this decision. You knew that everything could change in an instant—your life, your relationship with Joel, everything you thought you knew about the world and your place in it.

You finally gathered your courage, took the test, and set it on the sink. You watched it like it might explode, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. You could hear the muffled voices of Tess and Lydia down the hall, their words indistinct but soothing in their familiarity.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, you saw the result. Your breath caught in your throat, your knees feeling weak. You stared at it, your mind struggling to catch up, to process what you were seeing.

It was positive.

You felt a wave of emotions crash over you—fear, confusion, a strange sense of disbelief. You gripped the edge of the sink, needing something solid to hold on to, to keep yourself from spiraling. Tears welled in your eyes, unbidden, and you blinked them back, swallowing hard.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself before turning back toward the door. You stepped out of the bathroom, your face pale, your hands trembling slightly.

Tess was the first to notice, her eyes widening as she saw your expression. She moved quickly to your side, her hand gripping your arm gently. “Hey… what’s the result?” she asked, though the look on your face already told her everything.

Lydia stepped closer; her eyes filled with empathy. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Just take a breath.”

You looked at them both, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s… it’s positive,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”

Tess squeezed your arm, a mixture of concern and determination on her face. “Okay,” she said firmly. “We’re going to handle this. We’re gonna figure it out.”

Lydia nodded; her expression warm. “You’re not alone in this,” she reassured you. “We’ll do what we can to make sure you’re safe… and healthy.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the tears spill over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “What… what do I do now?” you asked, your voice shaking. “I don’t want anyone to know this, okay?”

“Joel’s has to know” Tess said.

“No.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, a flash of panic twisting through your chest. “No,” you repeated, firmer this time. “I can’t… I can’t tell him. Not yet.”

Tess’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained calm. “Why not?” she asked gently, though there was a hint of insistence in her voice. “He deserves to know. He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

You shook your head, feeling the tears start to flow again. “I just… I’m not ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s already dealing with so much, with losing contact with Tommy, and… I don’t want to put this on him. Not when I don’t even know how I feel about it yet.”

Lydia placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to feel this way,” she said softly. “But Tess is right. Joel will need to know eventually. He’s your partner… in all of this.”

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath. “I just need some time,” you murmured, feeling a deep ache in your chest. “Please… don’t say anything to him. Not until I figure out how to even say it myself.”

Tess sighed, a mixture of frustration and understanding on her face. “Alright,” she agreed quietly, but you knew she was lying.

She walked towards the door before you saying to Lydia “I’ll pay you later.”

“There is no need, I’d do anything for this one here” she said, squeezing your shoulder.

Tess gave Lydia a small nod, but her expression was tight, her jaw set. You could sense the conflict simmering beneath her calm exterior. You knew Tess well enough to recognize that she wasn’t pleased with your decision. She paused at the door, one hand resting on the frame, before turning back to you.

“Alright,” she said again, this time her voice softer, almost resigned. “We need to get back. Joel’s probably tearing his hair out by now.” There was a hint of a wry smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You felt a pang of guilt; you could only imagine how worried Joel must be at this point.

Lydia gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she said softly. “And if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”

You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Lydia… for everything,” you whispered, feeling a rush of emotion swell in your chest.

Tess opened the door and stepped outside, waiting for you to follow. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, before moving to join her. As you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, Tess glanced at you, her expression unreadable.

“You know he’s gonna ask where we were,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “And you know I won’t lie to him.”

Your heart sank a little. “I know,” you admitted quietly. “Just… don’t tell him yet, okay? I need to be the one to do it, Tess.”

She nodded, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. “You better tell him soon,” she warned her tone more serious now. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

Two days had passed since you were delivered the news, and as you went through your shift, the morning sun cast a pale light over the QZ, and the usual noise of activity buzzed around you. You focused on your tasks, trying to push through the lingering fatigue and nausea. Despite your efforts to stay steady, a wave of nausea hit you suddenly, making your stomach churn violently.

You stumbled to the side, clutching your midsection as you struggled to keep yourself upright. Before you could react, the contents of your stomach erupted, and you doubled over, throwing up onto the ground. The sudden and intense discomfort left you gasping for breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and distress.

Nearby, a few of your co-workers glanced over, their faces a mixture of concern and discomfort. One of them approached, a frown on his face. “You alright? Maybe you should sit down or get some fresh air.”

You shook your head, trying to regain your composure. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “Just… give me a moment.”

The soldier supervising the shift, who had already been keeping an eye on you, approached with a stern expression. “What’s going on? You can’t be throwing up in the middle of work. If you’re sick, you need to go home.”

You tried to protest, but your weakened state made it hard to argue. “I’m okay,” you said weakly. “I just need a minute.”

Before you could say more, Joel appeared, his face etched with concern as he hurried over to you. He placed a supportive hand on your back. “You need to go home,” he said firmly, his eyes filled with worry. “You’re not doing yourself any good pushing through like this.”

The soldier gave Joel a skeptical look. “She needs to get back to work. We can’t afford to have people slacking off.”

Joel’s expression hardened, and he took a protective step forward. “She’s not slacking off. She’s sick. You wanna have her work herself into the ground? Take her home, and I’ll deal with it.”

The soldier seemed taken aback by Joel’s intensity but eventually relented, grumbling under his breath. “Fine. Take her home, Miller. We don’t need sick people on duty.”

Joel nodded, helping you to your feet and wrapping an arm around you for support. “Let’s get you outta here,” he said gently, guiding you toward the exit.

As you walked out of the QZ, the cool air was a welcome relief, but the anxiety and guilt still gnawed at you. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Joel glanced at you, his eyes softening. “You don’t need to apologize, honey.” With Joel’s reassuring presence beside you, you made your way back to the apartment, each step feeling a bit heavier as you faced the reality of your situation.

When you and Joel arrived back at the apartment, you were both greeted by the quiet, familiar surroundings. Tess was sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes lifting from a worn-out map she’d been studying. She looked up as you entered, her expression shifting from concern to relief.

“Hey, you’re back,” Tess said, standing up quickly. “How are you feeling?”

Joel helped you inside, guiding you to the couch. “She’s not feeling great,” he said, his voice low. “She had another wave of nausea at work.”

Tess crossed the room, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable,” she said, her tone gentle. She reached for a blanket and draped it over you, her eyes scanning your face with worry.

You nodded weakly, feeling the exhaustion and the strain of the morning catching up with you. “Thanks, Tess,” you murmured, settling into the couch as Joel stood nearby, his hands resting on his hips, clearly trying to mask his concern.

Tess turned to Joel. “You should take a break, too,” she suggested. “I can keep an eye on her for a bit.”

“No.” Joel glanced at you, “I want to know what’s happening, and don’t lie to me” he demanded, especially to you.

You frightened under his stare. You looked over at Tess looking for a way of reassurance.

Tess met Joel’s gaze steadily, her own concern evident. “Joel,” she began softly, “we need to approach this carefully. We don’t want to push her too hard.”

Joel’s eyes softened slightly, but his jaw remained set. “I just want to understand what’s going on. She’s been sick for days, and I need to know why.”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of both their stares. “Joel,” you said quietly, “I’ve been… trying to manage. It’s been hard to admit, but… Tess might be right. I’m not sure how to handle it all.”

Tess reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What we’re dealing with isn’t just a simple illness. It’s important that we address it properly.”

Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to deep concern. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with worry.

“Joel, I…I” you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words or the courage to do it.

Joel's gaze was intense, waiting for you to continue. Tess’s hand on your shoulder was a grounding presence, urging you to find the strength to speak.

You took another deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to talk. “Joel,” you began again, your voice trembling, “I’ve been feeling… really sick, and it’s more than just the usual stuff. It’s… it’s because…”

Again, your voice got cut.

“Because of what?” he demanded.

“She is pregnant, Joel” Tess answered for you.

Joel’s face went pale as he absorbed Tess’s words. His eyes flickered between you and Tess, trying to reconcile the new information with what he had seen in you recently. The silence in the room grew heavy, punctuated only by the sound of your shallow breaths.

Joel’s hands dropped to his sides, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Pregnant?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. His voice was a mix of confusion and pain, and he took a step back, needing space to process this revelation.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill again. “I didn’t want to tell you like this,” you said quietly. “I’ve been trying to manage, but it’s been really hard.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to gather his thoughts. He turned away from you, his face contorted with frustration. “Goddammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again, the tension in his body palpable. “This… this is just too much.”

You flinched at his outburst, tears spilling freely now. “Joel, please—” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising.

“Do you have any idea what this means?” Joel’s tone was harsh, though there was a tremor of anguish beneath the anger. “We’re barely surviving as it is, and now… now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”

Tess stepped in, placing a firm hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, this isn’t helping,” she said sharply. “She needs support right now, not anger.”

Joel shrugged off her hand, his frustration boiling over. “I know, I know,” he snapped. “But it’s a lot to take in! I can’t just ignore it!”

You watched, your heart breaking as you saw Joel’s struggle to come to terms with the news. “Joel,” you said, trying to reach out to him despite your own pain, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to add to the stress, but I didn’t know how else to handle it.”

Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the anger in his gaze faltered, replaced by a deep sadness. “I just… I don’t know how to fix this,”

he said, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “I thought we had a chance to figure things out. Now everything’s just falling apart.”

Tess moved closer; her voice softer but firm. “Joel, getting angry won’t solve anything. We need to focus on what we can do now. What matters is getting her the help she needs.

“We were supposed to leave to find Tommy and now we won’t be able to.” He said, angry.

“What?” you asked, absorbing the new information.

Joel’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. “We were planning to leave for Tommy’s,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “But with this… we might not be able to. We’re stuck here now, trying to figure out how to manage all this mess.”

You stared at him, the realization hitting you like a cold wave. “Wait, you were planning to leave? To find Tommy?”

Joel nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, Tess and I thought it was the best chance for us. Tommy’s got connections, and he might be able to help us get through this. But now…” His voice trailed off, the anger and sadness mixing in his eyes. “Now, everything’s fucked up.”

“When were you planning to tell me?” You asked, hurt.

Joel’s face fell at your question, and he looked away, struggling to find the right words. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he said, his voice rough. “Things were just… so complicated. We thought we had more time to figure things out before we had to tell you.”

You felt a pang of hurt at his words. “So, you were just going to leave me in the dark? You were planning to leave without even talking to me about it?”

Joel looked back at you; his eyes filled with regret. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course you were coming with us.”

“But now I’m a burden.” You uttered a thought Joel perhaps was having.

Joel’s face tightened at your words, the weight of your accusation clearly hitting him hard. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “You’re not a burden, never say that again.”

You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling. Tears began to spill down your cheeks, the weight of the situation overwhelming you. “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do. I thought you were going to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but—fuck this!” You turned abruptly and walked towards the bedroom, trying to escape the chaos of your emotions.

Joel's heart ached as he watched you go, his own emotions roiling. He hesitated for a moment before following you, his steps heavy with regret and worry. He reached the bedroom door just as you were sinking onto the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Hey,” Joel said softly, his voice carrying a note of desperation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this. I was just… scared and confused. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t.”

You didn’t look up, focusing on trying to control your breathing. “Leave me alone.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, feeling his presence beside you.

“Leave, Joel.” You sobbed.

Joel’s heart sank further as you pushed him away, the pain in your voice cutting him deeply. He hesitated at the bedroom door, torn between his desire to comfort you and the need to respect your space.

“Alright,” Joel said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll give you some time. I’m sorry.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with your emotions.

As Joel retreated, Tess quietly entered the room. She found you on the edge of the bed, still shaking with sobs. Without saying a word, she sat down beside you, offering silent support. Tess’s presence was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside.

“Hey,” Tess said gently, placing a comforting hand on your back. “I’m here. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”

You looked up at her, your eyes red and tearful. Tess didn’t try to force conversation; instead, she simply sat with you, her hand a reassuring presence on your back. Slowly, the comforting silence and Tess’s steady presence began to soothe you. Your breathing gradually steadied, and the tears started to subside.

Tess helped you settle into a more comfortable position on the bed, making sure you were warm and covered. As you drifted off to sleep, the emotional exhaustion finally taking its toll, Tess stayed by your side, her watchful gaze softening with concern.

After a while, Tess glanced toward the door and saw Joel standing there, his expression one of deep regret and sorrow. He looked as though he was trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. Tess gave him a sympathetic nod before turning her attention back to you.

“I know this isn’t the ideal situation,” Tess began, her tone firm yet understanding. “But she needs you now, Joel. More than ever.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes flicking from Tess to where you lay curled up on the bed, still trembling from your tears. “I don’t know if I can do this, Tess,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with the weight of his fears.

Tess placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You’ve got to try,” she urged. “She’s scared, and she needs you to be there for her. You don’t have to have all the answers, but you do need to stay. You need to lay down next to her and protect her, like you always have.”

Joel looked at her, conflicted, the fight still lingering in his eyes. But Tess didn’t back down, her gaze unwavering. “She’s not asking you to be perfect, Joel. She’s asking you to be there.”

For a moment, Joel hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging heavy in the air. But then, slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He walked over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate as he lay down beside you, his presence cautious but steady.

You stirred slightly, sensing his nearness even in your sleep, and instinctively moved closer to him, seeking the comfort you had always found in his arms. Joel wrapped an arm around you, holding you gently, as if afraid you might break. And as Tess watched, she saw the fear and anger in his eyes slowly give way to something softer.

The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing, as you finally found peace in sleep. Joel stayed awake, his thoughts still tangled, but his grip on you never faltered. Tess left the room quietly, leaving the two of you to find whatever solace you could in each other.

Joel lay beside you, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the apartment. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced, replaying the argument from earlier and the harsh truths he had tried to push away for so long. The room was quiet now, but his thoughts were anything but.

His gaze shifted to you, lying peacefully next to him, your breathing soft and even. You looked so small, so fragile, and it hit him all over again just how much had changed in the span of a few hours. The life growing inside you was a reality he couldn’t ignore anymore, no matter how much he wanted to. He watched you, his heart heavy with a mix of fear, guilt, and something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time—hope.

The thought of becoming a father again terrified him. After Sarah, after everything he had lost, he didn’t know if he could survive that kind of pain again. But here you were, carrying his child, and it was as if the world was asking him to take that risk all over again. He didn’t know if he had it in him, but as he watched you sleep, so peaceful and trusting, he realized that you were counting on him.

Joel stayed awake through the night, his thoughts swirling with memories of Sarah, the life he had lost, and the uncertain future ahead. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harshness of the world outside, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to protect you both from the dangers that lay ahead. The weight of responsibility felt crushing, yet he knew he couldn’t turn away—not now, not ever.

As the first light of dawn began to seep through the cracks in the curtains, Joel’s exhaustion finally began to catch up with him. His eyes grew heavy, and despite his best efforts, he drifted into a restless sleep, his arm still draped protectively over you.

When he finally woke, the apartment was filled with the pale light of early morning. He blinked groggily, his mind still clouded with sleep, but something felt off. The warmth of your body beside him was gone. He reached out, his hand finding only the empty space where you had been.

Panic flared in his chest as he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the room. The bed was cold where you had lain, and the room was eerily silent. “Where the hell are you?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself out of bed.

His heart pounded in his chest as he searched the small apartment, calling your name, but there was no answer. The sense of dread he had felt the night before came rushing back, stronger than ever. He knew you couldn’t have gone far, but the thought of you out there alone, especially in your condition, made his stomach twist with worry.

Joel threw on his jacket, his movements frantic as he prepared to leave and search for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you, not when he had just realized how much he needed you. As he headed for the door, he stopped short, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, to think. You were strong, capable—he knew that. But still, the protective urge in him screamed to find you, to bring you back and keep you safe.

With one last glance around the empty apartment, Joel stepped outside, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where you might have gone. He couldn’t lose you—not now, not ever.

Joel knew you had a habit of going to certain places when you needed space—when you needed to clear your head. He made his way through the maze of streets, his mind fixated on finding you. As he walked, his thoughts spiraled. What if you were angry enough to leave the QZ? What if you’d decided you didn’t want to face him again? The guilt from the night before weighed heavily on him, and the fear that he’d pushed you away was overwhelming.

He headed towards a small, secluded spot behind one of the less-used buildings—a place you often went when you needed to be alone. It was out of sight from most people, offering a rare bit of privacy in the crowded QZ. As he turned the corner, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, sitting on an old, crumbling bench, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.

Relief washed over him, so intense it almost brought him to his knees. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and lost, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world had finally settled on them. But you were safe. You were here. That was all that mattered.

He approached slowly, not wanting to startle you. The crunch of gravel under his boots made you look up, your eyes meeting his. The raw emotion in your gaze—fear, uncertainty, and something that looked like regret—hit him like a punch to the gut.

Joel stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to say, how to bridge the gap that had opened between you. His mouth opened, but no words came out. What could he possibly say to make this better? To fix the hurt he had caused?

“I didn’t mean to leave,” you finally said, your voice small and fragile. “I just…needed to think.”

Joel nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get it,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. He took a cautious step closer, wanting to reach out, but unsure if you wanted him to. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let you leave like that.”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not your fault. I just—” Your voice broke, and you wiped at your eyes, frustration evident in the gesture. “I don’t know how to deal with all of this. It’s too much, Joel. Everything is too much.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

Joel crouched down in front of you, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze locked onto yours. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he said softly.

“There isn’t a place for raising a baby.” You spoke, looking down at your hands, the thoughts swirling in your mind too overwhelming to express. “Lydia could help me,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “She could help me…terminate it.”

Joel’s reaction was immediate, his voice hard and unyielding. “No.” The word came out sharper than he intended, and he saw you flinch. He softened his tone, but the resolve remained. “We’re not doing that.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. “But, Joel, what if—” you began, but he cut you off.

“I said no,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “We’re not ending this.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. “But I’m scared, Joel,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “What if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”

Joel crossed the room in two long strides and knelt in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t lose you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll do it together. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

You clung to him, the fear and uncertainty still gnawing at you, but for the first time since you’d found out, you felt a small measure of comfort. Joel wasn’t backing down, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

“I love you and I won’t leave you alone, baby” he whispered, kissing your lips.

Joel’s words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of your fears. You clung to him, your grip tight but gentle, as if you were afraid, he might disappear again. The warmth of his embrace, the sincerity in his voice, and the tenderness of his kiss were all anchors in the storm that had been swirling inside you.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion. You could feel the tears drying on your cheeks, replaced by a sense of tentative hope. The weight of your worries didn’t vanish, but Joel’s presence made them seem a little more manageable.

Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears from your cheeks. “We’re gonna get through this,” he said firmly. “I don’t know how, but we will. We’re a team. We’ve faced worse before.”

You nodded, finding strength in his conviction. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “I’ll try to believe that.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “But right now, my focus is taking care of you and the baby.”

Hours later, the apartment was quiet once again, save for the soft hum of a generator and the occasional creak of the building settling into its nightly stillness. You had managed to distract yourself with small tasks around the apartment, trying to keep your mind occupied and calm. The weight of the conversation with Joel still lingered, but his earlier reassurance had brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.

You were in the middle of organizing some supplies when you heard the front door open. The sound of footsteps followed, and a few moments later, Joel's voice cut through the quiet. It was a familiar, comforting sound, but this time, it was tinged with an edge of frustration.

“You think this is a joke?” Joel’s voice was sharp, and you could hear the anger in his tone.

You quickly moved toward the front of the apartment, concern etching across your face. When you reached the living area, you saw Joel standing in the doorway, his face set in a hard line. Beside him stood a teenager—a girl who looked no older than sixteen. Her clothes were ragged, and she had a wary, defensive posture.

The girl’s eyes flickered between you and Joel, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. Joel’s anger was palpable, and it was clear that the situation was tense.

“Joel, what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though you felt a pang of anxiety at the sight of the girl and the intensity of Joel’s demeanor.

Joel's eyes shifted to you, the anger in them still evident but now mixed with a hint of exhaustion. “She’s got a name,” he said, gesturing toward the girl. “Her name’s Ellie.”

Ellie looked up at you, her eyes wary but hopeful. Joel’s expression softened slightly as he continued, “Turns out she’s supposed to be delivered to the Fireflies.

You glanced at Joel, understanding dawning. “You’re going to take her to them,” you said, looking back at Ellie. “And you’ll have the chance to find Tommy along the way.”

Joel nodded, a hint of resignation in his stance. “Yeah, that’s the deal,” he said.

“But what about—”

Joel cut you off gently. “I know it’s a lot to take in. We need to leave now. There’s an opportunity for us to get out of the QZ and head to a place where things might be better. But it means we have to move fast.”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, glancing between you and Joel. “I don’t want to be a problem,” she said quietly. “If it’s too much—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not sure what to do. I mean, this is all so sudden.”

Joel stepped closer, his expression earnest. “We don’t have much time. We need to move quickly before things get worse. I know it’s hard, but this is our chance to get out of here. To find some place where we can start over.”

You looked at Joel, the weight of his words sinking in. “And what about the baby?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “How will we—”

“We’ll figure it out,” Joel said firmly. “We have to. There’s no time to waste. This is our chance to make a new life, to give the baby a better chance.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. “Alright,” you said finally, nodding. “I’ll do it. We’ll go. Just… let’s make sure we’re ready.”

Joel’s face softened with relief, and he gave a nod. “Good. Tess will be back soon. We need to pack up and get out before anyone notices we’re gone.”

As you hurriedly packed, a thought clawed at the back of your mind, growing louder and louder until it burst out of you in a shaky whisper. "But I’ll be a burden," you said, your voice breaking. "I’ll slow you down, Joel. You know it."

Joel stopped what he was doing, turning to face you. "No," he said firmly, the word cutting through the tense air like a knife. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. There was a fierce intensity in his gaze, something raw and unwavering.

"You’re not a burden," he insisted, his voice low and filled with emotion. "You're the reason I wake up every day. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you, baby. Without you… without you, nothing makes sense anymore."

Your breath hitched, and tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, his words breaking down the walls you had built around your fears. Joel’s hands trembled slightly as he continued, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.

"So, if this is the chance I have to give you a life you deserve in this shithole," he went on, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "then I’ll take it. I’ll take you with me and give it to you and our baby. I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re both safe. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever."

You could feel his sincerity, the depth of his determination to protect you and the life growing inside you. You felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—fear, relief, hope, and love, all swirling together. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, letting his words sink in.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I… I don’t know if I’m ready for this, for any of this."

His grip on your face tightened just a bit, his gaze never wavering. "Neither do I," he admitted. "But we’ll figure it out. We’ve faced worse, and we’re still standing. We’ll get through this. Together."

You nodded slowly, your heart hammering in your chest. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. "I’m not letting you go," he murmured.

Ellie stood by the door, her arms crossed, an incredulous look on her face. "Are you seriously risking your pregnant girlfriend?" she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. She looked between the two of you, clearly struggling to understand the situation.

Joel turned his head, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features, but he kept his voice calm. "It's not that simple, kid."

Ellie scoffed. "Seems pretty simple to me," she shot back. "You're dragging her and… whatever's in there—" she gestured vaguely toward your stomach, "—through god knows what to get me to the Fireflies. What if something happens?"

You took a deep breath, stepping forward to meet Ellie’s eyes. "I know what I'm getting into," you said firmly. "I can take care of myself."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and what if you can't? I mean, what if you get sick or something? What if you get hurt?" Her voice softened, just a bit, the worry evident. "It’s not just about you anymore."

Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He turned to Ellie; his tone more measured. "I get it, Ellie," he said. "But leaving her here… leaving her in this place… that’s not an option either."

Ellie threw her hands up. "Great, so it’s a lose-lose situation."

You couldn’t help but let out a small, dry laugh. "Pretty much," you said, trying to inject some lightness into the tension-filled room.

There was a beat of silence, the reality of the situation settling over everyone. Joel reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "We’ll figure it out," he murmured, more to you than anyone else.

Within a short time, Tess arrived, and the group of you prepared to leave the apartment, stepping out into the uncertain world beyond the QZ. The prospect of escaping to a new place, combined with the responsibility of ensuring the safety of both Ellie and your unborn child, loomed over you.

Joel led the way, his eyes scanning the area as you followed, Ellie close behind. The journey ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for a new beginning.

As you stepped out of the QZ and into the unfamiliar landscape beyond, the weight of your situation pressed heavily on you. The world outside was a mix of desolate ruins and overgrown wilderness, a stark contrast to the relative safety of the quarantine zone. With each step, you could feel the gravity of the journey ahead, not just for yourself, but for your unborn child and Ellie, who now looked up to you as a beacon of hope and guidance.

Joel walked beside you, his presence a constant reassurance in the chaos. He kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings, his hand occasionally reaching out to make sure you were close. Tess, ever practical, moved ahead, scouting the path and ensuring that it was as safe as possible.

Ellie followed behind, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. The harsh reality of the world outside the QZ was a stark contrast to the relative safety she’d known, and she looked to you and Joel for guidance and protection.

The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, with the occasional remnants of civilization scattered among the ruins. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with potential threats and unknown challenges. Yet, with Joel’s hand firmly grasping yours and Tess leading the way, you found a small measure of comfort in the unity of your group.

As you walked, Joel glanced at you occasionally, his gaze softening when he saw the lump forming in your throat.

With each step you took away from the QZ, you felt a mixture of trepidation and hope. The future was uncertain, and the dangers were real, but you were determined to face them head-on, for yourself, for your child, and for the family you were trying to protect.

[ataliagold]

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

[afawnable]

★ . . . god I'm newly eighteen and I'm so fucking horny. so to try and fix it I'm being the worst student known to man. turning up late. wearing the shortest skirts to show off my bare pussy. the thinnest tops with no bra so people will stare at my boobs. all so that I'll piss off my teachers so much. that they'll drag me to the staff room and lock the door.

★ . . . tell me to strip naked. and when i refuse they force me down. ripping and cutting the clothes off my body. not caring that they are literal scraps on the floor. a slut like me doesn't deserve clothes. especially when I've been such a bad girl. they'll take turns punishing me.

★ . . . spanking my ass till it's redder than the apple I stole from my math teacher that one time. then shoving my holes full of sex toys. forcing me to take orgasm after orgasm. all of them laughing at me while abusing my poor swollen cunt.

★ . . . writing words all over my body in permanent marker. like 'free use slut' 'cum dump' 'brain dead fuck toy' 'rape toy' 'breeding bitch' and more. and just as I'm about to pass out they slap me awake and drug me with asphoradic.

★ . . . telling me the main event is about to begin. forcing me to suck off and eat out all of my teachers while apologising for being such a bad girl. before forcing me to take multiple dicks at a time. stuffing me full of cum. taking me in multiple positions. recording me in the process so they can jake off to the video's later.

★ . . . they make sure all my holes get bred. to the the point where I'm covered in so much cum it's disgusting. but don't worry any cum that doesn't find it's way into my holes they'll make me lick myself self clean. a bitch like me shouldn't waste perfectly good cum.

★ . . . at one point the female teachers start feeling neglected and a bit left out while the male teacher rape all my holes. so they get out there straps and have there way with me. suffocating me while making me suckle on there massive tits forcing me to drink their milk like a good girl.

★ . . . and when my mouth isn't busy sucking on big fat heavy breasts it's it's busy chocking on nine inch straps and sucking on fat juicy pussy lips. the are loaded with my cum so I'm forced to taste myself over and over again.

★ . . . suddenly the door opens and in walks the principal vice principal and the school parent committee. the moment I see them I beg for them to help me to save me from his mess. but they just join in stripping down to nothing and joining in on the fun.

★ . . . I don't know at what point I stopped fighting them. maybe when they tied me down to the coffee table and started pouring hot wax over me. or maybe it was when I felt all of those hands touch and grope me. twisting my nipples leaving angry red bites and hickeys all over my body and shoving stuff in my holes to keep me nice and plugged. wouldn't want any of that spilling out now would we?

★ . . . or maybe it was when my best friends mom was riding my face. while she smacked my tits red with a flog. smacking harder when she noticed I slowed down telling me to put more effort in saying it was the reason I was such a bad student. and scolded me for being a bad influence on her daughter

★ . . . "thank god my sweet jessie is nothing like this, your enjoying this aren't you getting fucked like some cheap whore god but god do you have a talent with that tongue of yours. if I had it my way i'd lock you in my basement and keep you as my pet how does that sound? I'd buy you a nice shiny collar keep you in tight skimpy outfits or better yet nothing at all, turn you into mine and my husbands favorite bitch. what was that? no? I can't hear you guess your mouth is so full of pussy it's left you speachless not like i'd give a whore like you a say anyway."

★ . . . while my or three other friends dads filled me up with there dicks. two in my pussy and one in my ass. the three of them casually talking about work and fishing. and all discussing how my parents should take advantage of having such a slut daughter.

★ . . . "if I had one like her I wouldn't stop raping her no matter how many time I would get her pregnant, not to mention she would make a fortune if I rented her out. not that a slut like you would mind isn't that right sweetie. oh my wife would love you, young dumb and so willing to spread your legs. I can't blame for jason wanting to be friends with you"

★ . . . all of them agreeing to inquire if they could 'borrow' me a couple times a week. and continued to fuck me while my teachers graded my tests from final week. all naked and now nursing glasses of wine as they enjoyed watching me get fucked to death.

★ . . . eventually the principal vice principal and the school parent committee all had to leave. but not after taking there fare share of photo's and video's of my messy fucked out form. while also covering me in one final orgasm. before stepping over my limp abused body. leaving without another look.

★ . . . leaving me with my teacher once again. who first scolded me for failing all my test. before beginning my punishment. but stopped for a second when I cried saying my parents are waiting for me. see I had been trapped in the staff room all day and the sun was minutes away from setting. but they all told me not to worry as they had called my parents to let them know I will be taking private tutoring sessions which require me to stay in school full time. and they shouldn't expect me home for the foreseeable future. and to my horror they agreed signing the legal paper work with out batting an eye.

★ . . . "your folks were rather eager to sign you over to us, though I can blame them a stupid fucking whore like you could test even a saints patience. oh don't cry love we've found something your actually good at, being a brain dead slut! isn't that amazing?"

★ . . . and with that my punishment began. rape me till I was pregnant. which I didn't even have the energy to fight. as I was too tired and not on birth control. so I was definitely getting knocked up. and there was nothing I could do to stop it. while they all whisper filthy words in my ear. about how I'll definitely get pregnant with there rape baby. so I'll be forced to drop out and have to rely on them. but I shouldn't worry they'll all take turns looking after me. locking me up in there homes. keeping me naked well fucked and full of cum. letting them and there partners heck even there parents have there way with me. like the true whore that I am. but that was for later !!

[authorhjk1]

Lewd thought of snsd otp 9 with mommy femdom kinks please

Taeyeon

Taeyeon is a gentle mommy. As long as you do your best to satisfy her, there aren't really any downsides to it. She can get a bit demanding sometimes, but she cares about you as well. She makes sure that you cum inside, everytime she fucks you. When she only lets you eat her pussy, she always gives positive encouragement, sometimes a compliment here and there. Taeyeon doesn't like to punish you, but when she feels it's necessary, be prepared for her to ride and drain you, until you're a whimpering mess, unable to move, while she keeps going.

Jessica

Jessica is similar to Taeyeon. Or at least that's what she wants you to think. She gaslights you into believing all sorts of stuff. As long as you satisfy her, she won't be mad. And she always tells you it feels way better when she has an orgasm. For the both of you. Your release isn't as important. Whenever Jessica just uses you, until you break, she cups your cheek with one hand, while she rides you, her tone soothing and caring.

Sunny

"Don't listen to your mind, baby. You can take more, trust me. Just make mommy cum and you'll know how good it really can feel."

While Sunny acts cold most of the time, she still like to be worshipped. She enjoys it so much, when you start to beg for sex. She makes you wait, until she herself can't hold back anymore. But once she starts, everyone will see whom you belong to. The day after, your neck, is marked with hickies. Your cheek is still slightly red from where she slapped you a little too hard. And your lip finally stopped bleeding after she bit down on it too hard, while she was climaxing.

Sunny liked to use you and she doesn't really care if she brakes you in the process.

Tiffany

Despite popular belief, Tiffany isn't soft or caring at all. She always looks sweet and innocent, not able to hurt a fly. And often, you're the one in charge in and outside the bedroom. But when Tiffany comes back home after traveling, or when another woman looks at you a little too long, she turns bad. She keeps you awake the whole night, reminding you of whom you really belong to. Tiffany often likes to tie you up. To the bedposts, or the table, or the chair. And then she rides you, plays with you, hurts you, until only her name leaves your lips.

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon likes to toy with you, when you're blind. A blindfold, a tie, or even just putting a pillow on your face. Whatever it is that makes you vulnerable. You flinch whenever she suddenly touches you, not knowing what's going to happen next. Sometimes she just lets her fingers roam your body, or she uses ice cubes. Occasionally she even uses candles. Everytime she puts something over your eyes, your as excited as you're scared. She might suck your cock in one moment and let hot wax fall on your naked skin in the next.

Yuri

Yuri likes to watch you. She makes you sit on the bed, while she sits in a chair in front of you.

"Cum for me."

She would look at you with a cold gaze, watching how you admire her fully clothed body. You're not aloud to see her naked yet. When you finally cum, chest heaving heavily, Yuri stands up. She walks up to you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Again."

She makes you cum, until she is satisfied. Once you're completely drained, she strips in front of you.

"Now, make me cum as often as you just came."

Sooyoung

Sooyoung likes to put you in your place. Usually with words, even in public. But with with actions as well. Sometimes it's just something casual. When the two of you leave a restaurant: "Let's go, boy toy." Or when she is horny in the morning and already straddled you, before you're even fully awake: "Good morning, hot stuff."

But Sooyoung likes to make use of the saying "actions speak louder than words". That's why calling you names isn't enough for her. Sooyoung is a squirter. And she loves to cum all over your face, showing you that you're hers and your place is at her pussy, eating her out, until her juices drench your face.

Yoona

Yoona can switch it up really fast. One moment she is loving and caring. And the next she wraps her hands around your throat, ordering you to make her cum right then, on the spot. And there is no middle ground either. She likes it when you get a little rough too, but usually, you pay the price for that later.

Most of your days start with gentle kisses. A smile here, a laugh there. And then Yoona rolls herself on top of you. Giving you even more kisses. Eventually she reaches your crotch. Your eyes fall shut again, when she works your cock. But before you can cum, Yoona is suddenly sitting on top of you. Both hands on your throat as she lowers herself onto you.

"Be a good toy. Don't cum until I give you permission."

Seohyun

Seohyun likes to show you off, while acting cute and innocent and loving in public. Whenever someone points out a hicky, she acts all shy, embarrassed that someone might think she isn't all that innocent.

But as soon as the two of you are alone, Seohyun let's go of the good girl facade. She tells you how it turns her on that people think she is innocent, but in reality, she is making you scream her name every day. In public, she always gives you the sweetest smiles. And in the bedroom, her smiles are dark and drenched with lust.

[diejager]

What about....erm...humiliating Graves???

Ma’am Cw: humiliation, switch!Graves, cock ring, wax play, BDSM, consent check, clothed woman/naked man, uniform, Ma’am, tell me if I missed any.

Crediting @yawnderu for this, mostly inspired by K-9 chapter... 5?

It started with a taunt, a snide remark from your lips about you being able to grind him down better than he could humble you, threatening to pull him down by the balls and work him down his high pedestal. He gave you a grin, eyes exhuming arrogance, smile overconfident with his own ability to withstand any torture you’d dish out; and his overzealous attitude was his downfall.

He pulled at the bindings, black leather flexing under his struggle, shoulders raising and feet kicking, but that did nothing. You’d gotten your skills from the best, learning to bind rope with strong knots and intricate designs, but you decided to use leather, strong and unyielding against Graves’ strength. It held him down nicely, tied to a chair, stripped from all clothing while you wore your uniform, wearing his colours unabashedly.

“Christ, doll-” he jerked, red-faced with shaking thighs and laboured breathing.

“You’ll have to speak up, Philip,” you crooned, smile gleefully mean as you peered down at him, lashes fluttering at his wide, dilated pupil.

“Sweetheart!”

He threw his head back when you tilted the burning candle, hot wax dripping down his pebbled nipple, erect and swollen from the minutes you spent sucking, pulling and biting, grinning at him all the while. You watched him jerk around, the cooling wax rolling down his chest, adding to more dried trails down his chest, a pleasing sight to you. His cock stood proud, ramrod with a red head, throbbing from being neglected and degraded by you. You’d called him a mutt, a filthy dog biting more than he could chew, you cooed at him as if he was irresponsible and needing help with the simplest matters in life.

You watched his cut head twitch, pearly pre leaking from his slit. Down the bulbous head and shaft, the veins that crossed over his girth and pumped blood into his oversensitive head, from the cock ring at the base to the blushing top. You poked it, manicured nail tipping it against his soft stomach, feeling it pulse beneath your digit. He flushed with embarrassment, seeing you make his body sing to you, angered by his body’s betrayal. Bringing the candle down his body, you cocked the flame, admiring the slow trickle of wax down to his cock, the head jumping from the burning warmth.

“Fuck!” Graves hissed, curling his hands and gritting his teeth.

He flinched back harshly, cock bobbing with the tensing of his thighs and squirming. His strong reaction made you still, taking the candle away and peer at his sweating face, he had his jaw clenched, eyes closed and veins popping out of his forehead.

“Are you okay, Phill?” You asked, brows crossed. “Is it too much?”

“No-no,” he gasped out, blinking away pleasured tears. “Fuck, please. I need it-”

It didn’t hurt, it only drove him wilder, deeper into your trap to feel something warm wrapped around his shaft. The wax was only a catalyst to his undoing, his unparalleled need to cum.The line between pain and pleasure blurred in his mind, finding his cock jerking around from every twist of his nipple or the slap of his chest, his sun-kissed skin tinging red. Your smirk returned once you saw that he was willing to continue, pleas slipping from his tongue rather than the established safeword.

“What do you need exactly?”

“To come!”

Shudders wracked his body, eyes rolling back into his head as you grasped his girth, giving him a few pumps to keep him awake.

“I can’t hear you with all this noise, Philip.”

“Please, Ma’am,, please let me come.”

You broke into a vicious grin, eyes gleaming dangerously at the authoritative title.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter two

Summary: No one protects you like your big brother.

Warning: Violence. Toxic Men.

Word Count: 1774

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A/N: STEVE. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree

The Friday evening sun began to dip below the horizon, a warm amber glow casting across the small town. Inside Natasha and Wanda’s apartment, you all gathered for your usual Friday night hangout. The place was buzzing with conversation and laughter about the previous week. 

You were perched on the edge of your chair, fidgeting with your phone. Surprisingly, you had a change of plans for the night. Your third date with John was lined up, looking over at your two best friends, you sought their help. Whispering your plans to them so the boys couldn’t hear, you watched as their eyes lit up with excitement.

“You’re ready for the next stage?” Wanda gasped, they knew you had put yourself on the dating market but had yet to hear you speak of any of them going further than a couple of dinners and a peek. 

Natasha grabbed your arm with a conspiratorial grin as she dragged you toward the bathroom. The boys, Steve, Sam, and Bucky looked up from their friendly yet competitive card game, puzzled. 

“What’s happening?” Sam called out, eyebrows raised.

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Natasha called out “Girl stuff!” 

The bathroom was dimly lit, crammed with every beauty and skin care product you could dream of. The girls immediately got to work, sorting through their baskets.

“Alright, legs,” Wanda said decisively, holding up a pink box of wax strips. “We’re going to make the smoothest they’ve ever been.”

You hesitated, eyeing the box with trepidation. “I’ve never used…”

Natasha waved off your concern. “It’ll be fine, trust us.” 

With a nod, you agreed. Lifting your dress, you watched as Natasha warmed a strip between her hands, then pulled the scrip apart. “Ready?” she asked while pressing it firmly onto your leg. She didn’t wait for your answer. 

You cried out a yelp of surprise and pain, tightening your grip on the edge of the sink, steading yourself. Within a moment, the bathroom door burst open.

“What happened?” Bucky demanded, his eyes scanning the room as he stormed in. His face was a mask of concern. 

The three of you froze, staring back at him in shock. Bucky, with his leather jacket flaring and his hardened demeanor was the last person any of you expected to see in the middle of a waxing session. 

It took him a minute before he realized the scene before him. His expression shifted to one of awkward embarrassment. “I, um, I thought I heard my name,” he mumbled, he tried to look anywhere but our gazes. 

Wanda crossed her arms and shot him a curious look. “Really? In the middle of girl talk?” 

Natasha scoffed, and you couldn’t help but let out a slight giggle despite the sting on your leg. His cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink, something you believed only you had seen before. 

“Yeah, well…” he trailed off, taking a step he muttered. “Just making sure everything’s alright,” 

Before he escaped, his gaze momentarily met yours. “Thank you,” you mouthed toward him, a smile tugging at your lips. He gave a small nod before fully backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. 

Natasha and Wanda exchanged an amused look, Natasha shaking her head. You smiled, a feeling of affection for your little group. 

As you carried on preparing for your date, you felt more ready than ever.

~

As you finished work that afternoon, your phone buzzed with a message from John. Despite Bucky’s previous warning, you couldn’t help but feel curious about him. You found yourself agreeing to meet him that night for dinner. 

The restaurant was a trending spot in the town, the ambiance was a stark contrast to the bar. Warm, inviting with soft lightening. When you arrived, you spotted John waiting for you at a table for two. Wine glasses are already filled with red wine, not a drink you would usually opt for. He greeted you with a charming smile from his seat, you noticed there was something about his demeanor that felt off. 

“You look beautiful,” he commented, his eyes scanning you from head to toe in a way that reminded you of Rumlow. 

“Thank you,” you replied. “You look nice too.”

~

While settling into the night, a soft murmur of conversations and clinking glasses created a comfortable backdrop.

“So, how was your day?” John asked, his eyes flicking around the restaurant as if he was distracted. 

“It was good, busy… but good,” you replied, fidgeting with the material of your dress. “How about yours?”

“Pretty hectic,” he said, not elaborating further. “But it’s nice to unwind, I’m glad you could make it,” he smiled while reaching for his wine glass, and taking a sip. 

Through a forced smile, you returned the gesture, “Me too,”

Arriving to take your orders, the waiter greeted you and asked what you’d like. Barely glancing at the menu, John ordered for both of you. “We’ll have the steak, medium-rare, and another glass of your best red wine,” he stated, handing the menus back without consulting you. 

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself unable to relax. He was somewhat easy to talk to, but his stories often returned to himself and his accomplishments. He barely asked about your interests or life. When he did, his attention waned quickly. 

“Tell me more about these drawings you do,” he asked while his eyes already began to wander around the room. 

Excitement filled you as you smiled. “I’m working on a series of sketches. They are inspired by the city, and how I see home.” 

“That’s nice,” he trailed off, cutting you off before you could explain more. “I’ve always thought ‘artists’,” he gestured air quotations while speaking. “Were a bit… dreamy, you know? Head in the clouds, not grounded in reality.” 

Your smile faltered, “It’s an art… it’s about expressing a different perspective.”

“Sure,” he said dismissively. “So, it’s just a hobby then?”

You felt your heart begin to race, and your cheeks heated up. “I’m hoping to have a gallery show soon,” 

He nodded absently, clearly not interested. 

~

As the evening progressed, the conversation turned to John once again. You were told about his joys for hiking and his soft spot for action movies. However, his charm was as forced as your smile. His comments start to border condescending. 

At one point, he turned the conversation toward friends and family. “Your brother and his friends seem pretty tight-knit,” he remarked.

“Yeah, we’re a family,” you replied, smiling fondly. “They’ve always looked out for me.” 

“Isn’t that a bit… smothering?” he asked, a slight mocking in his tone. “Don’t you get tired of them treating you like a kid?” 

Before you could try to defend your brother and friends, the door of the restaurant swung open with a forceful push. Along with the rest of the diners, your attention was pulled toward the sound. 

As you turned you witnessed Steve striding in, his presence commanding as he marched into the room. Beside him, Bucky closely followed. His expression was unreadable as he positioned himself by the door. 

“Steve?” you gasped as you raised from your seat in surprise at the unexpected interruption. 

Ignoring you, Steve’s gaze locked onto John, recognition flickering across his eyes. There was a silent exchange passing between them. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the big brother,” John commented, his tone laced with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of wine. Steve clenched his jaw as his fists tightened at his side, glaring down John. Without a word, he strode over to your table.

Before John could react, Steve grabbed the scruff of his shirt, yanking him to his feet not giving him a chase to find his balance. John’s eyes widened as he stumbled.

“You listen to me,” Steve growled, his voice low as he held him firmly in his grip. “Stay the hell away from my sister!”

A silent battle of wills unfolded before you. You glanced over at Bucky, your eye teary from previously taking in the sight of your brother and date. Bucky met your gaze as you silently pleaded for help. 

His expression softened as he recognized the distress in your eyes. Gazing over to Steve, he stepped forward, placing a hand on your brother’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, Steve,” he said quietly, his newfound calm presence amid their storm. “This isn’t the place,” 

Hesitating for a moment, Steve let go of John and turned to leave. A surge of anger suddenly took over his senses as he quickly turned back to John, landing a punch squarely on his jaw. John staggered back, stunned by the blow. As Steve turned and stormed out of the restaurant, Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you out, following Steve. 

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for John, glancing back at him you noted his expression full of shock and anger. 

~

As you and Steve walked into your apartment, he began pacing back and forth. His fists still clenched and his chest heaving.

“What was that, Steve?” you asked, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. “How did you even know where I was?” 

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, “Nat and Wanda mentioned you had a date,” he began, his voice starting to soften yet still holding a firm undertone. “Then Bucky mentioned that you had been seeing, him.” 

The tears began to stream down your cheeks as Steve’s jaw tightened, he looked away. “I don’t trust the guy,” he admitted. “I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.” 

“Do you not trust me to make my own decisions, anymore?” you asked, John previous words about how they treat you replayed in your mind. 

Steve protected gently, “It’s not your decisions I don’t trust,” sighing, he finally sat down on your couch. “It’s his, I’m keeping you safe.” 

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of traffic, he looked back at you. His eyes filled with regret and understanding. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I’ll always want to protect you, but,” he sighed again. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your emotions. Moving toward the couch, you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. His head came down to rest on top of yours. “Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper.

You were grateful that your brother was there for you, yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilt over someone getting hurt because of you. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[with-my-calamitous-love]

INTERROGATION

dazai x reader

afab! reader

smut, minors DNI (ageless blogs will be blocked)

had a dream about this and had to write it. dazai gets you to talk the best way he knows how to

bondage, candle-play, overstimulation, slight dubcon

you had lost track of how long you had been on that bed.

he cuffed your hands above your head, attached to the bed frame. he left them just loose enough for you to squirm and struggle, but tight enough to draw the line at just that. the only thing he had bothered to cover were your eyes; the rest he had stripped bare. every touch felt like fire against your skin. your senses were heightened and every part of you was shaking. like a puppet on strings, he had left you helpless.

dazai reached out and traced a finger along your exposed skin, down your chest and dangerously close to the in-between on your thighs. he relished in the tremble that ran through your body, letting out a chuckle at your reactions. his breath slowly traced down your neck lower, lower, and lower. he made sure his lips abstained from contact- for now.

he continued to tease and touch you, enjoying your reactions. but even as he took pleasure in the moment, he never lost sight of what he needed from you.

"come on, angel, give me something. anything. i promise, i'll make it worth your while." he whispered into your ear, his tongue making the slightest contact with your neck. your head jerked back at the feeling, dazai ghosting his mouth over your neck and completing it with a heavy lick.

"fuck you." you grit your teeth. you were going to play this game. dazai could get anyone to talk, and you loved being the first to achieve things.

he chuckled. "stubborn little thing, aren't you?" he suddenly removed his contact, and you let out a breath of relief. luckily, your blindfold hid the ever-increasing hunger in his eyes. "i was almost hoping you’d hold out. lets see how long you can last when i do this…”

you suddenly feel a hot, liquid burn on your breasts. he must've lit a candle, letting it drip down you at an agonizingly slow pace. dazai's eyes observed with satisfaction as you gasped at the burning sensation. the flickering flame of the candle illuminated the room, casting dancing shadows that added to the intensity of the situation. but you were unaware, and could only focus on the mental games he played with you.

"poor thing, if only you had just talked….. this would all be over so soon." dazai teased you as you bit your lip. he continued to pour the hot wax down your body, moving down from your chest and to your thighs. he strategically avoided your most sensitive areas, for now. "i only save the best for last, angel."

dazai revelled in the power he had over you, watching the mix of pleasure and agony on your face. each droplet served as a testament to your willpower. he wanted to be impressed, but he knew he had more in for you.

after what felt like forever, you heard a clunk! on the table as he set down the candle. you gasped for air, the burning feeling lingering even after he finished. “i'm impressed, but we're just getting started."

“i-i’m not telling you shit.” you gasped.

"then don't." he slipped his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck. "i wanted to play with you more anyway.”

he moved his fingers in and out of your mouth, playing with your tongue and basking in the desperate noises you made. finally, he abruptly pulled out and left you to gasp. without warning, he pressed the two fingers to your clit. you cried out, feeling as he circled your folds before slowly spreading you out. he watched as your fluids ran down your pussy, admiring the sight as your wrists rattled furiously against the headboard.

slowly and deliberately, he pushed one finger inside of you. you screamed.

"how sensitive you are angel... i wonder what else i can do to you..”

he pushed two more fingers inside you, admiring how you dripped around him. your walls clung to his fingers as he slowly moved in and out of you. you felt everything, every inch of him as he fingered you at a torturous pace.

"its almost like you're enjoying this.. come on, tell me what i need to know angel.”

he grabs a chunk of your hair and yanks it, forcing your head to tilt. his tongue meets the skin of your neck once more as the pace of his fingers begins to increase. your body is on fire, your pussy clenches around his fingers as he drags his tongue down to your collarbone. his mouth finally reaches your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth. he sucks the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth before moving to the other side of your chest and repeating.

dazai moves in a messy pattern, licking and biting down all over your breasts as his other hand works diligently on your clit. your reaching your limit, but he isn't even close to being done. your wrists rattle against the cuffs as your legs shake like an earthquake had occurred.

"my my angel... are you ready to speak for me?"

he grabs your chin and forces you to face upwards. his thumb drags your lower lip down, daring you to talk for him. you want to spill your guts, to tell him everything. but right now your mind is blank, only focusing on the sweet nectar that dripped down your thighs. your speechless.

all is still for a moment.

that is, until you feel his the tip of his cock tease your folds.

you want to scream but he slaps his hand over your mouth, subduing your moans.

dazai drags the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, daring to push himself inside. you hands clutch the cuffs as you moan against his hand.

"awh, my poor little slut wants to talk now?" he leans in, whispering into your ear.

"too fucking late."

you feel him slowly, agonizingly slowly push his cock inside of you. you scream a moan against his hand as he begins to fuck into your pussy. he pounds into you with no mercy, the sound of slapping and your gagged moans fill the room.

your mind is completely blank. the feeling of his cock pulling out all the way before slamming right back into you is all you can comprehend. dazai fucks you with a savage hunger, gripping your hips as drives his cock inside of you ruthlessly. he lets his hand off from your mouth, allowing you to scream and moan to your heart’s content.

"such a good fucking slut you are.. taking my cock for me so well. beg more. beg for more." he commands.

"f-fuck, fuck. please. please, please." you cry out, forgetting how to speak entirely.

dazai grips the blindfold and pulls it off from you, allowing him to make eye contact with you for the first time.

he looks down at your body. covered in wax, breasts bouncing, wrists tied and your pussy full of him.

"lets interrogate you further, shall we?"

[frenziedfireworks]

Heightened Senses

George Weasley x Reader

Summary : Your boyfriend George loves experimenting in bed. It's always a surprise.

CW : SMUT, 18+, blindfolds, temp play (wax), praise kink, vibrator use, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N : Sorry day three is late! I'll post four soon as well :^)

masterlist

You sat in bed waiting for George to be done in the shop. He had mentioned to you about how he had something to show you tonight, specifically in bed. You couldn’t help but be excited, listening as everyone left and the twins packed up.

You could hear the bedroom door swing open and you jumped up, running towards your boyfriend.

“Woah love! Someone's eager.” George grinned, hand rubbing at your cheek as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I wanna see my surprise.” You grin as you rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. Anything that had to do with George ‘experimenting’ always was a wild ride. From his lust potions to the peculiar candies he would always make you eat. 

“Okay okay, let a man get through the door.” George pulled you along with him, sitting you against the bed. He shuffled across the room and grabbed at a blindfold. 

“Can you strip for me and then let me put this on you?” George gave you a soft smile, nodding as you felt yourself getting nervous. You did as he asked, slowly pulling away at the fabric as he watched intently. 

“Good girl. Let me put this on you now.�� George’s hand rubbed across your chest, pinching at your nipple lightly.

“That’s not my face George.” You breathed out, biting at your lip as he laughed.

“Observant as ever, my dear. Let me get to it then.” George’s rough hands tied the blindfold around your head, immersing you in pitch black. His fingers trailed around your thighs before they were gone at once. You could feel his presence stepping away and you reached out.

“Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing what I need. Here I’ll leave you with a gift.” You could hear the start up of the vibrator and the silicone head pushed against your core. Moans left your lips as you squirmed against the toy. 

“George..” You felt yourself growing wetter by the second, your hands pulling at the bedsheets. You faintly heard a chuckle across the room where your ‘supplies’ was held. The vibrations only got quicker by the second, sending you closer to your approaching orgasm.

“Look at that.. Already so prepared.” You felt George lean next to you on the bed, his fingers trailing down your stomach. His digit rubbed against your nub giving you the little push you needed to cum.

“So pretty. If I didn’t have other plans for tonight I’d eat you out for hours.” George hummed and you felt him adjusting on the bed. Even as you came down from your orgasm your body was on guard for whatever was next. You couldn’t possibly guess what it was and it was obvious George did not want you knowing. Your senses tracked George’s movements to the best of your abilities but you still jumped at his random touches around your body.

“I’m gonna put something on you and you're gonna tell me what it is, okay?” George whispered against your ear and you felt yourself clench. 

“Okay..” You trailed off, your body awaiting whatever he had in mind. You felt his hand smooth across your stomach and then a slow warm substance ooze onto your flesh. His index finger moved it against your torso, almost as if he was painting. The heat and his touch only added to your need, your brain fighting for its last thought.

“What do you think, darling? Do you need more before you guess?” George didn’t wait for a response, your back arching as he placed a few drops against your nipples. You paid attention as it spread against your tits, your pleasure and senses heightened.

“Is it wax George?” You could smell a faint scent of vanilla against your skin and George dropping lower against the bed.

“Yes love. My smart little kitten.” George cooed as he trailed more of the wax against your legs, moving it incredibly close to your cunt. Your want only grew as you felt his breath against your sopping snatch. 

“George, please.” You begged, adjusting your legs closer to where you could feel his head. You could hear a short laugh and his grip tightening.

“You want my tongue or do you want me?” 

“You. I want you George.”

“Good choice.” 

You felt a smack hit against your side as he stood up, your body yearning to see his cock spring free from his trousers. You could imagine the red tip leaking with precum, his vein protruding on the underside as it smacked against his stomach..

“George..”

“Give me a second dear. These buttons aren’t as easy as they look.” 

Within seconds you felt his member rub against your folds, his groans echoing in the room. His fingers flicked at your tits before sliding in, filling you to the brim. 

“Oh fuck.. You’re so wet. You liked your little surprise, didn’t you?” His hips smacked into yours, giving you one long pump before waiting. Your mind felt as if it was on the verge of breaking, his teasing being too much to handle.

“Yes.. Loved it George. Loved it almost as much as your cock.” Your voice pleaded and he seemed to understand. He began his thrusts, starting off slow and steady. Your arms scratched at his back as you desperately wanted more. You let out a few whines as he sank into you, hoping he wouldn’t make you beg more. Sadly, you knew he would.

“Is something wrong darling?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he thrusted in once more, only adding to your impatience.

“Faster, George. Need you to be rough.” You submitted, your last nerve slowly fraying.

“Is that it? Princess needs to be fucked faster? I can do that. Let’s have you watch as I ruin you.” George’s hand removed the blindfold, your eyes adjusting to the light and his handsome face. He smiled down at you before winking.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, love.”

As soon as he spoke his hands dug into your sides, bringing you down onto his prick with a brutal pace. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he continued to use you, his pace almost inhuman. 

It wasn’t long until you found yourself close to reaching your second high, your body bouncing against his. You could feel his hips stuttering, alerting you that he was just as close.

“I’m close George.” You moaned out.

“I am too. Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up..” 

George’s pace became erratic as you came against him. Your body shuddered in pleasure as he spurt his cum inside, his arms caging you against his form. Your breaths slowed and he tumbled to the side of you, cuddling you into his chest.

After a few minutes to catch your breath you heard him speak up.

“So.. Did you like it? Reckon we can try it with ice in a few hours?” 

You could only snort. Leave it to George to experiment all night.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Lestat wooing you would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

( I wrote this draft a while ago, and only now edited and finished it, so hopefully I'll still like it after my next viewing of IWTV lol. I tried to balance romance with Lestats naturally manipulative and toxic side. And I tried to make a neutral set of headcanons for something I think would really depend on the type of person.)

- When he can, and when he wants to be, Lestat is like a dream personified: one you feel so vividly and yearn for so ardently that you pray you’ll never breach the waking world again. He sweeps you off your feet; both figuratively and literally, until all that’s left of you is a foggy haze that can think only of fairytales and fantasy. 

- And yet, the dream is bound to end as nothing short of a nightmare. 

- Lestat views mortals as toys, things he can do with as he pleases, and dispose of as quickly and as often as it suits him. He hardly ever takes into consideration the feelings and the value of those around him, save for when he decides he wants them: and even then, he can’t help but play cruel little games. 

- Lestat’s love, in general, is a game. It’s a game of cat and mouse, one that only he ever manages to win. No matter how long it may take, no matter how hard you may try to avoid it, no matter how much it might hurt you, you’ll end up being his in one way or another, even if it kills you....

- At first, Lestat is very open about his infatuation with you, introducing himself to you in the dead of night as you walk the streets or sit in your garden. He apologizes for scaring you, ignoring how strange his sudden appearance may be; how it seems almost impossible for him to be where he is right in that moment.

- Though you're too distracted by his physical appearance to truly consider the logistics. Too distracted by his complexion and his hair that seems to be glowing in the moonlight, how striking his eyes are, how expensive his clothes are. He's completely foreign to you; both in physical attributes and status, and because of that, you're taken with him from the start.

- Being with him is thrilling, it's exhilarating, and it feels almost dangerous, so comparably taboo to everything you've ever been taught to yearn for. You would have never imagined that you'd be sneaking away in the middle of the night, tiptoeing past your parents room or climbing down the steep side of your home's architecture: all to meet with a man who only ever appears to you in dark corners and secluded spaces. You would have never imagined slipping back inside just as the sun rises and hiding your exhaustion in the morning at the breakfast table, knowing that if your father ever found out he'd lock you away.

- But just being with Lestat is enough to make you forget about any and all consequences that you may face. He's able to strip away your worries: waxing poetic about how he loves you and how he'll never allow anything to happen to you. About how he's capable of giving you a life that you couldn't even imagine.

- He's worse than the devil when telling you how he'll let you live deliciously: promising you no more pain or sorrow for the rest of time, how not even sickness or death could ever touch you again. But only if you'll trust in him, love him, accept him, him, him, him. His tone is never above a whisper yet it's deafening, rendering the world around you silent so that all you can hear is the beating of your heart and the softness of his voice.

- When he talks to you about the future, it's as though he can read your mind: as though he understands you on some deep and emotional level, perfectly summing up your deepest and darkest feelings that you do your best to hide. He promises to change the things you wish to change, to give you the things you have always yearned for, to rid you of the grievances and the heartaches that you have grown to worry about. Out of everyone in your life, it is a complete stranger who seems to know you best, and it makes you feel as though you are somehow one in the same, connected on some otherworldly level.

- He flirts with you in your more lighthearted moments together: making you laugh and flush and hide your face. He speaks so smoothly, so charmingly, so intelligently. All the boys you've ever met have either been perfectly plain or dreadfully boring, and Lestat is the total opposite: so full of life and passion and romance. It's like he holds your heart in his hands and tells it when to beat.

- He calls you such beautiful things: things reserved for your parents or the letters between history's greatest lovers. Some are comparably innocent to others, holding the affection of a guardian rather than a lover. Pet, lambkin, sugarplum, treasure, angel, beloved, darling, dove, lover, my love, my dearest, my heart, etc. Not to mention when he speaks in his native tongue.

- It's easy to forget who you actually are when every name he seems to call you is a term of endearment or your name spoken in a tone that you've never heard before. He makes it seem so foreign and different: makes you feel different.

- And when he feels his words are no longer enough, he moves on to gifts: covering you in gems and jewels and satins. You tuck them away in the bottom of your dresser, keeping them hidden away from your families prying eyes. The first time you visit his home, you're shown a room that's already made for you: it's closets and dressers full of luxuries that you've never known.

- When he zips and clasps you into them, his fingers linger on the pulse beneath his touch. He kisses your wrists and your neck as his hands slide across your body, listening to the heartbeat racing in your chest and the thoughts crossing your mind, knowing that his affection is filling you with burning heat.

- It's an age of innocence that you live in, and Lestat is a creature of sin: when he woos you, it's bound to include seduction and lust. He wants to sway you towards a life of debauchery, the type of life he has lived for quite some time, the type of life that he can give to you: one without punishment and restriction, one with only pleasure.

- He tries to lower your inhibitions: tries to trap you in a whirlwind of excitement, and romance, and affection, until all that's left is a dizzying love that makes you want to give yourself to him and only him. When he feels he can get away with it, he'll lean in close, staring straight into your eyes as his mouth draws nearer to your own. A grin pulls at his lips, feeling as though he is seconds away from stealing a kiss and sealing your fate.

- It's then that you pull away, wanting to; needing to, preserve your chastity, not wanting to allow yourself to get carried away and do irreversible damage; to be a fool for the sake of love. On one hand, he loves it. On the other, it infuriates him. He soothes himself with your touch, pausing only for a moment as your head turns away from his own before dropping his face into the crook of your neck or burying it in your hair, feeling your softness against him; a promise of what he is capable of winning as long as he can remain patient.

- You're so soft, so warm, so sweet: all attributes he tries to imitate himself; wanting you to trust him more than anything. He drapes himself across you, lays his head in your lap or rests his chin on your shoulders, wanting to seem gentler than he is. He is a monster, yes, but he's determined to convince you that he is not: as though he holds less control than he actual does, as though he is weaker than he is. Perhaps in a way, he is weaker: weak for you, for your touch, for your acceptance, for your love.

- And in convincing you that he is weak for you, he manages to win you over and turn you away from your family, planting seeds of doubt in your mind and ideas about running away with him. He introduces you to passion, to all of the things your family taught you to stay away from because they're sinful and will lead you down a dark path. He questions why something so beautiful and pleasureful would be so wrong for you to engage in. Why god would mean to keep you from enjoying them, from enjoying life and enjoying him, enjoying all the pleasure that he convinces you to let him give to you.

- At some point, he will find himself an entry point into your regular life: likely by attending a party that you and your family are at, and making himself known as an honored guest or sponsor; someone that the people around him are bound to respect and trust. He pretends not to know you when the two of you are introduced, though the way he looks at you when he kisses your hand will tell anyone who's watching that that is simply not the case.

- He plays nice in the presence of others, treating you more like a child than a potential wife: acting like a protective uncle when in the company of your family, friends, or suitors. He cultivates a close relationship in public with you under this pretense, lowering your families guards and making them believe that he truly has your best interests in mind. When other men come around, he is not seen as a competitor, but rather a guardian, someone that they must convince to like them if they wish to get close to you

- Yet for all of this acting, there always comes a time in the middle of the night when he finds you alone, acting as though a switch has been flipped and he cannot keep himself off or away from you. He grabs you from amongst the darkness, concealing your shrieks of surprise as he holds you close to him, growling about how he's missed you and cooing at you as grumble about how he's treated you all evening. He reminds you that you must keep your love a secret; whether it was initially his idea or your own, and against your better judgement, you begin to soften once more; forgiving him as he smiles at and hugs you close to him.

- He keeps you close to him at parties once he feels he has earned the right to; or even when he feels he hasn't, urging you to sit with him at his side and leaning into you so that he can murmur little comments in your ear, grinning as you giggle and try to hide it. You sit at his side as he plays the piano, watching his fingers fly across the keys as he quietly makes lighthearted conversation or teasing quips.

- In the presence of others, his affection turns gentle and innocent: tapping your chin, booping your nose, patting your cheek, escorting you around by your interlocked arms. In private his affection is more intimate: brushing your hair from your face, toying with your jewelry, lingering caresses, purposefully placed hands, long and gentle kisses. It's hard to grow used to the difference: how he can be one man one moment, and seem like a totally different one the next.

- But Lestat enjoys this difference, this game of his that he gets to play with you. It's a game he takes even further in an effort to make you jealous, to make you even more interested in him: to invoke some kind of strong reaction in you and bring the two of you closer in the long run. It's a rotten and dangerous game that he plays: brushing you off in favor of another, disregarding how happy you are to see him, taking pleasure in your confusion and disappointment.

- He expects to bite then lap at the wound like a dog, be the one to hurt you then strip you of the pain. He expects you to eagerly accept his undivided attention later on: for you to feel fortunate for the scraps, to wait for his beck and call. And how rewarding it is for you when you ensure that his plan backfires. Two can play at that game, you reason, and you watch as he conceals his own jealousy in response to your actions.

- When he stands you up during your nightly meetings, you don't show up the next day yourself. When you're at a mutual party, you dance and stay by the side of a boy your father boisterously insists you'll marry one day. When you need fresh air, you take the boy with you and sit in the garden side by side. And oh how Lestat could snap his neck like a twig: drain him right in front of you and sully your little saintlike dress. There's still a chance that he will....

- Your attention is like a drug to him and when he is left with none of it, he festers in sickness and in agony, rotting from the inside as he suffers from withdrawals. He must remind himself to be patient when he thinks about sweeping you away, about making you his and forcing you to stay with him until the end of time.

- He'll undoubtedly interrupt you, whether during your sit down with your potential suitor or after it happens: either scaring the boy off with the sheer tension and anger that radiates off of him, or stealing you away when his back is turned, grabbing you in the blink of an eye; reminiscent of times when you were both in much more jovial moods. His ability to suddenly appear will never cease to shock you, to startle you before you gain your bearings and sigh at the sight of him; whether in relief or annoyance.

- It's in these moments that he has to be very careful. He feels the need to turn you, to ensure that you're not going anywhere, but in doing that, he is playing a very dangerous game. Lestat believes that you could grow to love him over time, that you would get over the initial resentment of being turned once you realize the gift that he's bestowed upon you. But what if you don't? What if he loses you all the same? You'd be as good as dead then, wouldn't you? Immortal and yet refusing to be by his side. He wouldn't let you, but that's besides the point.

- If he does manage to quell those urges, manage to convince himself that now is not the time to change you, then he must decide on how to deal with you accordingly: decide if anger is the way to go, if sorrow is, if kindness should prevail above all else. Sometimes his temper gets the better of him and his sweetened words turn sour, making you wonder if the man standing before you is the same man you've grown to love.

- Oftentimes, you respond just as angrily, lashing out at him in the same venomous way, your pain and your exhaustion showing through. He can't help but love it, love the anger and the passion that you show him. He finds your fury exhilarating: proof of why he chose you in the first place, proof of how perfect you are for each other.

- It's then that he turns on the charm: smiling and laughing in amusement, somehow turning this rage of yours into a bonding moment. It's baffling to witness, and it gives you much to think about. It's in these moments that he might be forced to turn you, seeing the conflict on your face, hearing the words leave your lips, orders for him to leave you alone, how you never wish to see him again.

- He can't allow you to make that decision, to leave him and be rid of him forever. He'll ensure that you're unable to: that no matter where you go and no matter how far you run, he will continue to be the only one you can turn to, the only one who can understand and guide you. You'll learn to love him then, he'll make sure of it. Despite all the aggravation, a life without him will be even more unbearable, ...and you'll realize that soon enough.

- There's a very likely chance that he'll woo you after he bites you, that he'll turn you during your first meeting, or feed from you and later convince you to let him change you. For the sake of these headcanons, I've pretended as though there's a reason he's unable to steal you away in the middle of the night and run away with you. Just let it be known that under different circumstances, he might react very differently when trying to win you over.

- That being said: Lestat does try to give you the choice when deciding whether or not to change you; regardless of your history together. Although, it isn't much of a choice, is it? It's either change or die: a sort of "pick your poison" type of scenario.

- I can see him making his secret known in an attempt to win you over and intrigue you, to fascinate you with his mere existence and draw you towards him even more. Your interest in him facilitates his beliefs about you: about how you're made for his world and not your own. The fact that you're not terrified of him; that you still yearn to be near him even after learning what he is, proves to him that you're different from everyone else, that there's a reason he chose you out of every other person on Earth.

- Logistically, you know that things like him should not exist: that even if they do, they're dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. And yet, you find yourself incapable of of doing so. Knowing that he exists frightens you, and yet it fascinates you even more, making you want to continue seeing him: scared of losing this double life of yours that has allowed you to see things beyond your own comprehension and the set of beliefs that you've been taught since birth. If you turn from him, you risk going back to a normal and boring life, forced into realism after getting a taste of true fantasy.

- It's a hard decision to make; whether you'll choose to continue seeing him or not, yet you should rest assured that Lestat is seldom finished with a person even when they fully believe him to be. If he wants something, there is simply no preventing him from having it. And the thing he wants most is you....

[mybombae]

Aesthetic reasons, considering Hair Removal for hygiene, or simply personal comfort, there are various methods available. In this blog post, we'll explore different options and considerations for those who are looking to remove or reduce body hair.

[riptideripley]

Happy New Years

a true new years worth celebrating with Rhea Ripley.

wrd count:1,558

A/N: Wax and slight food play involved!! Bondage as well!!

It was New year’s eve,you and Rhea had plans to hang out with all of your co-workers for the special day. Getting to see the ball drop,having fun,drinking,the basics of a new year’s eve party. But Rhea decided since it was your first New Years with her as a couple she wanted to spend it alone. When you agreed she was ecstatic,spending the entire day preparing with food alcohol just everything she could think of. You offered to help but she wouldn’t dare let you touch anything,half of it was surprises she had saved for you anyway.

Soon enough it was around 9pm,everything she wanted to have prepared was ready. You two had already eaten the food she had cooked and my god was it delicious. Now at this point she was carrying you upstairs to the shared master bedroom that had a connected bathroom. You had no clue what she was doing or what she had planned,but nonetheless you were excited. “Here let me help you get undressed honey” Rhea spoke softly,kissing your shoulder as she removed all of your clothes starting with your shirt. You smiled at her soft pampering kisses,glancing at the clock. It was only 9:58 meaning you had enough time to watch the ball drop. Rhea then stripped herself naked,grabbing your hand and leading you to the bathroom. Your eyes lit up at the sight of a warm bubble bath,the scent of lavender and vanilla filling your nose. Rhea smiled at the sight of you and helped you carefully into the bathtub,softly kissing you.

“mm..Rhea this is the best new year’s eve I have ever had” you whispered between kisses,slightly upset when she pulled away. She noticed and chuckled to herself,giving you a quick peck. “Just wait till Valentines” she spoke with the biggest grin on her face. Oh lord. She grabbed your favorite loofah and began rubbing you down once she soaked it into the warm water. You relaxed at her touch,leaning back into her slightly once she finished washing your back. What started off as soft pampered kisses turned into full on biting and desperate kisses. She had completely washed your body and you had washed hers,so in the time you two just sat there whispering sweet nothings and kissing she was desperate. The water ran cold by now and you finally decided to get out,stepping carefully out of the tub wrapping your towel around your body.

Rhea followed suit and did the same thing,guiding you to the bedroom. You sat on the bed,glancing over at the clock. It’s about 10:30 now,damn. You looked up at her noticing that same evil grin she always had when she was in the mood or about to do something downright evil. Looking over to the nightstand you noticed a bunch of things. Two candlesticks,a small heater,and a bowl with a bunch of candy. Lollipops to be specific. Looking back at Rhea,her towel now off,you immediately caught on. Slowly sliding your towel off,you waited for her que.

She walked over to the nightstand and turned the heater on,heating up the black candlestick. Carefully laying you down,she began leaving small kisses down your sides and breasts. “You ok with this? Safe word is always available” she spoke looking up at you once she grabbed the now half melted candlestick. You nodded giving her a reassuring smile to continue. Slowly she began pouring the hot wax onto your damp skin,starting at your breasts. Your breath hitched at the heat from the wax,breath slighting picking up. The black wax painted a beautiful picture onto your skin,she was absorbed into the sight of you with small lines and dots of black wax on your beautiful skin. She then reached over and wrapped one of the lollipops,patting it against your lips signaling you to open them. You obeyed and opened your mouth,the taste of the sweet candy in your mouth.

Slowly she glided between your legs,spreading your thighs as wide as they could go. Blowing cool air onto your clit before diving directly in. Your back arched,almost dropping the candy from your mouth. You knew better than to do so. Your muffled whines and moans only fueled her to do more,pressing that lovely piercing of hers that you loved so much against your clit going in circles. You were desperately latching onto the lollipop with your mouth,squirming. The temperature seemed to increase as well,noting that she left the heater on. Your thighs began to tremble,she knew you were close but didn’t want to give it to you. Yet. She slowly pulled away,giggling to herself at your whine.

She hovered above you and slowly took the lollipop from your mouth,a trail of saliva following. She gave the lollipop a slow torturing lick. She smiled softly and placed the lollipop back into your mouth,reaching over to grab two more lollipops. She unwrapped both,giving both a lick before placing them onto your nipples. Reaching over to heat the other candle,which was purple,she watched you carefully through the corner of her eye. Looking over at the clock,it was 11:25 on the dot. She has a long way to go if she wants to keep this up till midnight so she has to think this through. Turning the heater off to save the purple candle.

Putting her attention back onto you,she reached into the nightstand top drawer retrieving your favorite vibrator. Leaving pampering kisses down your body as she slowly trailed the vibratory down to your clit,quickly turning it on. Your body jerked,quickly trying to adjust to the new feeling. You gave Rhea a confused look as she sat above you,lowering herself onto the vibrator. “S-Shit-“ she whispered out,adjusting to the feeling herself. You were completely love drunk at this point,bucking your hips into the vibrator to give her friction. It worked as you thought and she slowly began grinding against the vibrator desperately. Glancing at the clock,11:35. Her hips started moving faster,desperately trying to get both of you to the edge. It worked perfect for you,arching your back completely off the bed letting out the most pathetic moans. Her orgasm followed quickly after,her beautiful thighs shaking around yours as she rode out the orgasm.

Slowly turning the vibrator off and getting off of you,she kissed your body softly. “Shh..it’s ok relax I’m right here” she whispered into your ear,relaxing your uneven breathing. She got off the bed and walked to your shared walk-in closet,leaving you there on the bed. You took this time to relax and catch yourself after the intense orgasm. 15 minutes had gone by and she finally returned,her favorite black strap attached to her waist and silk in her hand. It was 11:50 at this point and she had 10 minutes to give you the best orgasm for the new year. Sliding back onto the bed,she sat you up making sure you were ok before tying your wrists behind your back with the soft black silk. You were intrigued when she turned the TV on so you wouldn’t miss the ball drop. Tossing the remote somewhere on the floor,quickly bending you over startling you. You pressed your hands against the bed,glancing down to see Rhea crawling under you. Slowly peeling the lollipops off your nipples,quickly taking one of them in her mouth at a time. You whined,shifting around in the bed slightly.

She scooted herself from under you,turning you to face the TV. Rhea placed herself behind you,heating the purple candlestick. Slowly she slided herself inside of you,making you grip onto the sheets. You couldn’t even hear the sound coming from the TV,all your mind could make up was her. She began thrusting which caught you off guard,her thrusts starting off slow and sweet. Once the purple candle was half melted,she turned the heater off and began pouring the hot wax onto your back. As she did this,her thrusts sped up and got more rough. 11:57. The hot wax hitting your back,directly down your spine. You let your head hang,closing your eyes as you took in all of the pleasure at once. She smiled as she spelt her name on your lower back with the wax,reaching for her polaroid to take a picture. Click. She always took pictures during times like this for her own personal keeping,watching the picture slowly fade into color in her hand. Tossing the picture on the ground and the camera on the bed,her thrusts got more intense. 11:59. You glanced up at the TV,every care you had in the world to watch was gone.

You felt that heat pooling in your stomach once again,gripping onto the sheets. 12:00. Your orgasm hit you harder than you expected. Mind completely blank,vision white,just letting out pathetic moans and loud screams of her name. “Happy fucking new year” she chuckled out,enjoying the sight below her.

[polarpuppet]

“I need your help, Hatter.” Batman said as he entered the Madman’s room at Arkham. The room was covered in paintings of mushrooms, fake grass, and a relatively nice little place setting with a plastic tea set.

The blonde man sitting at the table tipped his hat. “What do you need help with? Come, come! Sit and join me!” He said happily, gesturing to the empty seat.

“It seems many of your fellow inmates have been brutalised to the point of hospitalisation. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Batman asked, observing the shaky look in the younger man’s eyes before he looked away, messing with an orange stripped cat. “Forgive me, but I haven’t a clue about them.” He mumbled as he took a sip of tea.

Batman looked around before back at him. “Your room seems nice. A lot of privileges went into it.” He said as Hatter pulled the cat close to him. “You’ll take Chessie from my decaying corpse, Jaberwocky!” He yelled, holding her protectively.

Batman knew he wouldn’t get much from him if he was defensive. A bit more of a calmer approach might help. He cleared his throat and smiled. “My dear Hatter, excuse my rudeness.” Batman said, years of listening to Alfred helping his accent shine. Hatter’s guard lowered some as Batman took the other teacup. “May I join you for tea? It smells wonderful!” He said.

Hatter smiled softly, the most calm expression he’s seen on his face in a while. “Yes you may! I’m so glad you remembered your manners!” Hatter lightly scolded him and poured him some tea. The cat walked over and lazily laid down on top of a mushroom cat bed. “Sorry for Chess. She’s still learning her manners, but she’s just a baby.” He said joyfully.

Batman took some sips and looked around the room again. “Hatter. Do you know where your friends are?” He asked. This question got a small reaction from the Madman, who looked scared and shushed him.”Careful, Jabberwocky, lest the Card Guards hear you scheming. They will drag you to the guillotine and then your screams will join the others.” He said.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “They do what now?” He asked, his teeth grinding some. “Yes. They have taken the Queen of Hearts, The March Hare, and the Duchess.” Hatter said. “They even got the little Dormouse. She looked scared.” He mumbled nervously. “If they knew I told you, Jabberwocky, they would make my head roll too.” Hatter said in mild panic.

Batman smiled, trying to calm the distressed man. “It’s alright, my dear Hatter. Everything will be taken care of. I assure you, everything will be fine.” He said and took another long sip of his tea. Hatter calmed instantly and took a sip of his own. “Quite right. I much rather talk of other things of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings.” He said happily.

“And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings.” Batman replied, remembering the story Alfred used to read him at night. Hatter perked up. “Yes! Exactly right!” He cheered before he held out an Ace of Hearts card. “Return for tea whenever you wish, my dear Jabberwocky. I rather like your company over the Chef. His laughter is rather annoying.” He said simply.

Batman took him up on the offer many times, getting intel as best as he could from the merry man. He returned a week later, finding the blonde on his bed, his hat punched out, Chessie shaved, and most of his things ruined. Hatter looked up from his bed, beaten and bruised that he could barely lift his head. “Please, no more. Forgive me.” He begged, reaching out to him as Batman walked over and knelt by him.

The look on Hatter’s face, the sadness and terror. He knew he had to be gentle with him.”Dear Hatter, what has become of you?” He asked worriedly, Hatter’s expression perking up at the familiar voice and a small smile graced his lips. When did he start to enjoy that smile? “Oh Jabberwocky! It’s you, glorious you!” He said.

“They besmirched my humble abode and my precious Chessie baby!” He said sadly, trying his best to get up and failing. “You’re hurt, my dear Hatter. Let me help you.”Batman said, lifting up Hatter slightly. “No, no. The Card Guards will get you too. This was for a minor offence, but you, my dear Jabberwocky, will be in far bigger trouble if they find you helping me. Both our heads will roll!” He said, grabbing onto Batman’s cape, his eyes wide with pure fear.

“Please, please get my baby out of here.” He said, gesturing to Chessie, who was snuggled up to Hatter’s injured and bloody side. Was that from a stab wound?! “Hatter, I can’t just leave you here. What of Dormouse and the March Hare?” Batman asked, trying to think of a way to get both cat and man out in one piece. “Gone. Their heads have already rolled…”Hatter mumbled, his eyes looking heavy.

Batman’s head snapped up to meet those deranged eyes. “Gone? What do you mean gone?” He inquired. “Gone gone. The Card Guards pruned them like roses. Oh the lovely Rose.” He said as small tears went down his cheeks. “Taken, one by one. Discarded, now singing Golden Afternoon in the depths below.” He mumbled before his head fell limp. “Hatter?“ Batman asked as he shook him gently. “Oh my dear Hatter…”He said mournfully.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment VIII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage

Word Count: 4.4K (she’s also kind of long)

Part VII | Masterlist | Part IX

You laid on the cold, steel table of one of the styling rooms. They had stripped all the hair beneath your eyebrows, which was no longer very painful since you’d been “maintained” ever since you won 8 years ago. They had also taken care to clean you in scalding hot water and scrub your skin raw. They cut the dead ends of your hair off, keeping it long enough to reach mid back. You were sure Haymitch started fighting them as soon as he saw any kind of razor, tweezer, or wax.

Now you were just waiting for the doctors to come back with the results from your checkup. You had told them that they suspected you were pregnant and asked if there was any way that they’d be able to do a paternity test. They told you that if the father’s DNA was in their system they could tell you and that all tributes’ DNA was logged.

As the door slid open, you sat up eagerly. “Ms. L/N, you are in fact pregnant,” the nurse informed. “About six weeks along.”

“And the father?” you asked.

“Haymitch Abernathy,” she said plainly. You were sure Snow would be upset that you were pregnant with your husband’s baby but now that he was putting you in the games, you didn’t give a damn what he thought or wanted. You were also incredibly relieved it was Haymitch’s. You were never a kids person and had never wanted to have children but if you were going to have someone’s baby, it may as well be the man you love’s.

The nurse talked with you a little more about your labs, saying you were healthy and left. Next Cinna came in. “There’s my favorite mentor,” he smiled, greeting you with a hug.

“Cinna,” you replied with a smile. While you hand he weren’t nearly as close as Katniss and he were, you had very much come to appreciate his friendly face. “Good to see you.”

“You too, although I wish it was under different circumstances. Anyway here is your dress for the parade,” he turned to the door as the rest of the style team brought in your outfit. You were kind of amazed at how beautiful it was. It was a long, almost flowing, A-line, red dress. The bodice was covered in lace and featured a halter top neckline. They did your makeup dramatically with a dark red lip and a mix of reds and blacks for your eyes. As for your hair it was done in an intricate half-up, half down style. When they finally let you look in the mirror you thought you looked like an evil queen.

You were then brought to the chariots where about half the other victors were waiting. You looked around, observing your friends/future competition. Spotting red hair you realized it was Annie. You called over to her as you approached. She looked terrified until she spotted you.

“Y/N” she ran up to you as best she could in her mermaid-like outfit. She gave you a big hug which you returned.

“Where’s Finnick and Mags?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. Her scared look appeared again as she looked around frantically for probably the only two people in the world who brought her real comfort. You noticed she was still hugging you. You were probably a stand in for Finnick until he arrived.

“He’s probably still with the stylist. How are you two?”

“We’re good, or were until the games were announced,” she murmured sadly.

“Hey, don’t think about that right now,” you tried to soothe her. She wasn’t much younger than you but she was so small and fragile looking that you felt like you needed to protect her. “And I can guarantee you Finnick won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will I,” you promised. Assuming Haymitch was right about a plan you were telling the truth. You’d fight to get this poor girl out.

“Annie?” you head a familiar voice call from behind you.

Annie immediately pulled away, recognizing Finnick’s voice. You smiled as you watched the two lovers reunite. You were sure that Finnick, like you, didn’t care about Snow’s rules about availability anymore. He was sending you to your death, who cares if the Capitol’s desire to fuck you was still high?

Soon enough the rest of the Victors were at the chariots, all except one. Haymitch.

Cinna was getting Katniss and Peeta ready when he came to you, the very last chariot. He handed you a remote. “Press this when Katniss presses hers. You’ll know when she does.”

“Wait where’s Haymitch?” you asked.

“I don’t know, probably with Portia,” Cinna explained. “I have to go, he’ll be out soon. Just make sure you look straight ahead, no waving.”

The avoxes were all ushering you into the chariots and you were sure they were frantically trying to find your partner because they were all running around. You were starting to actually get scared when the elevator doors suddenly opened, revealing Haymitch and Portia. He rushed to the chariot, pecking you on the cheek as he got in.

“Where were you? You scared me.”

“Sorry, got held up. I need to talk to you after.”

“I need to talk to you too,” you replied just as the chariots started to pull out. You took your husband’s hand, putting on a blank expression as Haymitch did too. The runway was so loud, there were so many people above you cheering. It wasn’t hard to look disinterested, you were disgusted with them for cheering as you were paraded around before you had to fight to the death.

About halfway down the runway Katniss and Peeta burst into flames. You pressed the button on the remote and out of the corner of your eye you could see Haymitch erupt into flames as well. As you approached Snow, you didn’t even bother to look up at him as the chariot rounded the end of the runway, bringing you all the way back inside where you had started.

You finally took in Haymitch’s appearance. They had cleaned up his beard so it was more cleanly cut. His hair had also been trimmed and washed properly. He was in a suit with no sleeves, showing off muscled arms, identical to Peeta’s. Both eager to hear what the other had to say you grabbed Katniss and Peeta and went to the elevators.

Just as the door was closing Johanna Mason stepped into the elevators. “Well don’t you all look amazing,” she snarled. “My stylist is such an idiot. District 7, lumber, so she dressed us as trees.” She let out a scoff as she started taking the cuffs of her costume off. “I’d like to put my axe in her face.” She stepped closer to Peeta. “Help me with the zipper?” she turned around, not allowing him to answer as he awkwardly unzipped her costume.

You and Haymitch were holding in your laughs as Katniss made a face you couldn’t even identify the emotion of.

She thanked him as she stripped off the costume, standing completely naked in the elevator. The doors opened as you reached floor 7. “Let’s do it again sometime,” as she walked out of the elevator, completely shameless.

“Thank you,” Haymitch said.

You slapped his arm playfully. “See you later,” you called after her.

“Johanna Mason, 7, if you hadn’t figured it out yet,” you informed.

“Is she always like that?” Peeta asked.

You shrugged. “I’ve never seen her strip naked before today but yeah, she hasn’t ever cared. When she was here the first time she was screaming profanities all the way down the chariot line.” The doors then opened into the penthouse, you and Haymitch immediately headed towards your bedroom to hear what the other had to say. You both stepped into the bathroom for privacy.

“You go first,” you said, hoping this was about Plutarch.

“I was late because Plutarch came to see me. Y/N I was right. About a fourth of the tributes are in on the plan to get Katniss out. We’re gonna have to carry on like a normal game at first but Beetee is going to shut down the arena and Plutarch will have us extracted.” You could cry you were so relieved. Haymitch was smiling eagerly. “We’re gonna make it, we’re gonna see a world without the games. Just make sure you stay by me so I can protect you, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “And that news makes what I’m about to tell you better.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I’m pregnant.”

Haymitch’s eyes widen. “Are you sure? I kind of suspected but didn’t want to say anything.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. The doctors tested and they were also able to tell me that you’re the father.”

His eyes widened impossibly more. He gingerly pressed his hand to your still flat stomach. “You’re gonna have my kid?” he looked hopeful, excitement fortunately creeping into his expression.

“Yeah,” you agreed. You felt a few tears of joy slip. “I had never wanted kids but the thought of having yours? I want to raise this baby with you, Haymitch.”

“I felt the same,” he agreed. “This world is too fucked up to have a baby so that’s why we have to change it. God, I didn’t know it was possible to love you more,” he kissed you, his hand still planted on your stomach. You deepened the kiss, your hand meeting his.

That night you laid in bed in comfortable silence, more in love than you had ever felt before. “What should we name it?” Haymitch asked.

You mused for a second. “If it’s a boy, I wanted to name him Asher, after my father. And for a girl I thought about Maysilee?”

Haymitch pressed a kiss to your hairline. “I like that.” He paused again. “Should we tell people?”

“The world expects at least one of us to die in about a week. No point in telling people. Besides I think Peeta would jump off that platform before the timer hit zero if he knew I was pregnant,” you explained monotonously.

“Okay, so we won’t tell anyone,” your husband agreed.

~

The next day at the training session was fairly intense. All of the victors (except those suffering from withdrawal, insanity, and/or age) were trying to show off how still in shape they were. You spent most of the time observing until you did the hand to hand combat station. There were real trainers who would fight you and fake weapons that could sense what wounds they’d inflict in order to simulate the arena as close as possible.

Feeling like being a little bit of a showoff you decided to do it despite your newfound condition. You had made sure Haymitch wasn’t anywhere nearby as you picked up the fake knife and stepped on the mat. The trainer gave you no warning as he suddenly attacked you, running at you with a sword. Fortunately you were still looking at him the entire time so you could easily dodge at the last second. As his momentum carried him forward, you swung your arm back, hitting him in the shoulder with your knife.

“Non fatal wound to left shoulder,” an automated voice announced.

He whirled around, swiping at you with the sword. As you were dodging you got closer and closer to the edge of the mat.

“Approaching boundary,” the voice informed. So you ducked under the sword, flailing your lugs until you caught his ankle, sending him to the ground. His sword fell which you kicked off the mat. He was up in a second though, lunging at you. Your eyes widened in surprise, trying to move out of the way but he managed to grab your arm, dragging you to the ground. You fell with a thud and before you could wrench your arm from his grip, he was on top of you, straddling your hips. He was grabbing at the knife in your hands which you were trying to keep away. You felt it scrape against both his and your arms, each time eliciting a “Non fatal wound to arm.” Eventually you managed to stab it through his hand as the simulator said, and bring it closer to you before you thrust it into his throat.

“Fatal wound to the neck. Simulation ended,” the voice announced. You looked over, noticing a few other tributes watching from their own training spots. Haymitch, however, was fuming over by the knife section.

“You’re awfully tough,” the trainer said, getting off of you. “Impressive, especially considering you won eight years ago,” he complimented.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking his hand to stand up. Now Haymitch was walking over. “I have to go,” you dismissed, meeting up with him. You felt like a kid again as you approached your fuming husband.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. “You could’ve mis-”

“Shh,” you demanded. “And sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re damn right you weren’t thinking!”

You were normally a very patient person, especially with Haymitch. You were sympathetic both when he was drunk and sober but you never took yelling, especially after you already apologized. You let out an indignant laugh. “I just apologized and you’re really gonna yell at me? Find me when you calm down,” you scoffed, walking off.

Haymitch was still angry as he watched you walk off. He had been chatting with Chaff when Chaff had told him to turn around. He was horrified to see you fighting with a man about twice your size. But he knew better than to interrupt so all he could do was stew in worry and anger until it was over. He nearly pulled the trainer off you when he got on top of you. Worried both about your safety and his fetus’. By the time it was done he was angry. Angry that you’d risk your pregnancy. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at you, especially in front of so many people but he was so worried. He was honestly a little scared of how much he wanted that baby.

You made; your way over to Finnick and Annie who were making fish hooks together. She had a soft smile on her face as she weaved the feathers onto the hook while Finnick had a soft smile while looking at her. You really hoped they’d both make it out.

Finnick looked up, having noticed you. “Where’s lover boy?”

“You’re one to talk,” you sneered.

“It have something to do with your little show off session?” he asked.

“I wasn’t showing off. I was training,” you scoffed. “Besides, once again, you’re one to talk.”

“What do you mean? I've been doing this the whole time.”

“Don’t act like you don’t fully intend to get in there with a trident.”

He scoffed, a look of mocking offense painted on his face. “I would never.”

You laughed, taking a spot next to Annie, observing her work. You spent the next half hour learning how to make fish hooks, occasionally glancing up to watch Haymitch. He mostly stuck to the survival stuff but tried some combat and weapons training. It pained you to watch him fumble in those areas. He definitely wasn’t the most unathletic tribute but he was far from the most athletic. And while you had faith in Plutarch’s plan, not every victor was in on it and athleticism was still very much a part of the game.

Eventually Katniss wandered over, making fishhooks with Mags until she migrated to the archery station. As more tributes went over to watch the newest victor in action, you followed too. You had seen Katniss shoot last year but with so many simulated targets at once you were impressed by how good she was. Everyone else was too as Mags clapped for her when she had completed her round.

~

You eventually headed back upstairs, not really sure what to do. You had done lots of weapons training, especially knife throwing which had been a skill you utilized in your original games. Knives were always guaranteed to be in the Cornucopia and being able to put distance between yourself and others made the most sense. You worked with a few other weapons, Haymitch giving you worried and disapproving looks the entire time. You got so sick of his looks you moved onto survival but got bored of that quickly so you just went upstairs to lay down.

Haymitch appeared in the doorway sometime later. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Thank you,” you said sitting up. You knew he was coming from a place of love and concern so you were done being mad. Besides, you had been a couple for so long that your arguments could almost always be resolved in a couple sentences.

“Half the tributes want to be our allies. They of course assume we’ll be allies with Katniss. Peeta too but mostly Katniss.”

“Okay well who of the potential allies know about the plan?”

“Wiress and Beetee, Finnick, and by association Mags and Annie,” he answered. “Although Enobaria wants Katniss too but she and none of the other careers know. And a couple others from 5 through 10.”

“Did Katniss say anything?”

“She wants Wiress, Beetee, and Mags. But no Finnick. I told them she’s still considering.”

“What about Johanna, Blight, Chaff, and Seeder? I thought they knew.”

“They do, they just don’t necessarily want to get on Katniss’ crazy train,” he explained, taking a seat on the bed and throwing an arm around your shoulder. “That girl is a piece of work.”

You laughed a little. “She’s not that bad. Yes, a little volatile but so is Johanna and I like her. I like them both,” you added.

Haymitch hummed in agreement. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired but fine. I think everything is fine,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I’m pretty sure fetuses can take a little knocking around. How would we have survived so long if they couldn’t?”

“Yeah, yeah, just take it easy. No getting punched in the gut,” he chided.

“Aw man, there go my dinner plans,” you jokingly whined.

“Shut up,” he chucked.

~

The next couple days were largely uneventful. You and Haymitch kept trying to convince Katniss to ally with Finnick or even Johanna but she refused, thinking that they’d stab her and Peeta in the back as soon as the biggest threats were taken out.

Eventually it was finally time for interviews the night before the games. With your permission Cinna tapped into the femme fatale look that had been part of your selling point your first games. It was a satin black dress with gold chains laid across the bodice and forming the straps. It had a high slit that came almost to your hip but your modesty was protected by delicate gold chains that held the top of the slit in place.

Your makeup was done dramatically again. Your red lips had been a part of your look the first games so Cinna had wanted to keep them this year. Your hair was done up in intricate braids with gold weaved through it so as to “not cover up too much of Cinna’s design,” one of the hair stylists told you.

You watched the other interviews as you got ready. You could see through all of them, whether they be extremely calculated or not, they were all a desperate cry to stop the games. Some were subtle like Cashmere and Gloss’ joint interview as “the family of the Capitol.” Johanna’s however, was not at all subtle as she screamed at the crowd and Snow for putting her back into the games. Some just made you outright feel bad for them. Like Annie and Finnick’s joint interview where she clung to his arm, hardly able to get out two words.

Eventually it was your turn. You stood in front of the stage entrance, trying to calm yourself down as Caesar introduced you. “Please welcome the winner of the 67th Hunger Games, Y/N L/N!”

You could hear the crowd erupt into cheers as the doors opened, blinding you. But you stepped out confidently nonetheless, eventually regaining partial sight. “Y/N, stunning as ever, wouldn’t you agree, folks?” Caesar began.

The crowd once again erupted into cheers. “You’re too kind Caesar.”

“I understand you have many sponsors who supported you in your original games and even after,” he explained. You hoped your face didn’t show it but you felt your heart stop. Was he really bringing up your torture in your very public interview? “Let’s hope they’re just as generous this year.”

“Oh I promise them I’ll make it worth their while,” you smirked into the microphone. You’ve been playing this game for a long time. What’s one more night?

“Now I have to ask as the mentor to the lovebirds of 12, is there anyone special in your life?” What kind of questions were these? You gave a polite laugh, shaking your head no. “Oh c’mon, really? With your looks? I find that hard to believe.”

“No not anyone,” you once again denied. “I’ve been on a few dates with some Capitol citizens but nothing serious. I guess eight years after the games still isn’t enough time to get over it.” You left the innocent look on your face.

It was sobering to the audience but Caesar quickly tried to bring the mood up again. “Well I just have a few more questions for you. We’re all very familiar with your protégée’s stylist. Tell me, are you working with Cinna too?”

“I am,” you agreed excitedly, giving them back the Capitol darling they had loved so dearly eight years ago. “No offense to my previous stylist but I think Cinna just gets me more.”

“I agree, this dress and the chariot parade dress suit you very well. And I have to say, you in flames? Breathtaking.”

“Aw thank you,” you smiled. “I’m sure Cinna appreciates it too.”

“Yes and we’re excited to see more of his work soon. Thank you Y/N, it’s been a pleasure. Give it up for Y/N L/N!” The crowd once again gave their cheers as you walked up the stairs, taking your place next to Chaff.

“Our next guest was the winner of the last Quarter Quell. Give it up for Haymitch Abernathy!” You watched as Haymitch approached, only able to see his back from your vantage point. “Haymitch, it’s been too long.”

“Not long enough in this context,” he laughed.

“Ah yes, but wouldn’t it be such an honor to win both Quarter Quells?” Caesar pressed. He probably already knew this would be a difficult interview for the Capitol.

“In theory I suppose. I’m mostly concerned about getting some of the younger victors out though.” The crowd let out cries of sympathy.

“How considerate,” Caesar said solemnly. “And tell us, what was it like to mentor our lovebirds coming up next?”

Haymitch pondered for a second, not quite sure how to answer. He has spent the whole night trying to decide if he’d tell the Capitol about your relationship. “Well I can tell you it wasn’t easy. Katniss can be a little headstrong.”

“Oh well we all know that,” Caesar laughed. “And Peeta?”

“He’s a very kind boy. They’re great together.”

Caesar laughed. “Yes well it’s nice to hear that from someone close to the couple. Now what about you? We’ve already heard from your original protégée about her love life, what about yours? We haven’t heard much from you in the past 25 years.”

Haymitch really thought about dropping a bomb like Peeta did last year but realizing how valuable your sponsors could be in the games, he thought better of it. “Not really. Y/N said that eight years isn’t enough time to get over being in the games. Twenty-five isn’t enough either.”

“Ah well I wish you the best of luck. Ladies and gentlemen, Haymitch Abernathy!”

He joined you up on the platform, squeezing your hand quickly before turning his attention to Katniss as she walked out on stage. Her dress was beautiful, a little over the top but Cinna had outdone himself. The crowd was losing their minds realizing that was Katniss’ unused wedding dress. The audience was completely captivated by her, especially when she revealed the Mockingjay dress that Cinna had weaved into the wedding dress that Snow no doubt made her wear. A daring display of defiance that you unfortunately knew someone would pay the price for.

Next came Peeta with his suave attitude from last year. They spoke for a moment until Caesar brought up the unfulfilled wedding.

“Actually we got married. In secret,” he revealed. You glanced at Katniss as inconspicuously as possible. Fortunately she kept her expression neutral. “We want our love to be eternal. Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. I wouldn’t have any regrets at all if it weren’t…” Caesar pressed him. The entire Capitol was in the edge of their seats, hell you were too. “If it weren’t for the baby.”

The Capitol was shocked, you were shocked, the other victors were shocked, even Katniss was shocked. The audience was losing its mind, some even shouting to stop the games. You half wondered if Peeta knew you were pregnant. He made his way up to the stage, hugging Katniss. You still faced the audience when you felt Haymitch’s hand grab yours. Looking over you could see Katniss holding his other hands so you grabbed Chaff’s wrist. Once everyone was linked you all lifted your arms up. The Victors joined in solidarity against these games and the Capitol.

Part VII | Masterlist | Part IX

[agentmarvel]

nsfw alphabet - johnny "soap" mactavish

afab!reader

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

divider credit: @/cafekitsune

♡ a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- When you finally manage to wear him out or firmly tell him you can't take any more, Johnny's full of praise. He wants you to know he's proud of you, whether it's for letting him beat one of his personal records or setting one of your own or just taking as much as you did. You'll have to keep a case of bottled water in the bedroom somewhere, too, because he's worried about you getting dehydrated after all the... fluids lost. Isn't big on cleaning up, though. He prefers you teary-eyed, sweaty, and filled.

♡ b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- He's got an unusual fixation on your throat, tbh. The way it looks covered in bitemarks and hickies, wrapped by his hand or bulging from his dick, how soft it feels under his lips. He thinks you're gorgeous, obviously, and he loves you so wholly and entirely that he's just so hard-pressed to pick favorites, buuuuuuuut... 👀

On him, though? Johnny is a big fan of his chest. If anyone somehow misses the stock of his arms, they definitely can't overlook his broad, muscular chest. It's his secondary intimidation factor; a silent assurance of your continuous safety at a glance. He loves the nights you fall asleep on those built-in pillows or the way your hands look almost alarmingly small in comparison when you lean in to kiss him.

♡ c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- Johnny is such a menace about it. He'll cum inside you just to eat it back out and spit it in your mouth. Or he'll finish on your face and smear it around with the tip of his cock, telling you how good it is for your skin. It's cute when you pout about being sticky - gets him hard all over again, listening to you chastise him for making such a mess.

♡ d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- He has this wild fantasy of watching his team run a train on you. The thought of you being stuffed by his friends, filled to the brim with at least half a dozen loads, none of which are his... yet. He'll take his turn when they're done with you and you're begging for him because no one else can please you quite the way Johnny can.

♡ e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) 

- Ain't no way a man that pretty and persistent hasn't racked up a body count. He definitely knows by now exactly what he's doing, especially after taking the time to memorize your body the way he has. He knows where to kiss, where to touch, how much pressure to use, everything. There's not a single secret he can't suss out from the little sounds or miniscule movements. He's observant to a fault. Makes him a solid soldier and an even better lover.

♡ f = favorite position

- Face down, ass up. He wants that back in a deep arch, halfway muffled screams while your head is pressed into the mattress, bruises on the fat of your hips from his vise-like grip. He'll settle for bending you over anything nearby, though. He loves watching your ass jiggle with the force of every vicious thrust, could cum just from the sound alone.

♡ g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- Johnny is a goofball on his best days, but he tends to be significantly less jokey during sex. Not to say he doesn't find ways to make you laugh where he can, but his focus is definitely on seeing how many orgasms he can wring out of you instead.

♡ h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

- He def manscapes when he's home. Gets the stray brow hairs waxed and shaves down just enough to keep a stubbled appearance on his jaw. Trims the downstairs pretty short as well, but only so he has to do it less often.

(Soap once shaved his pubes into a mohawk. And I do mean mohawk. He grew out a landing strip with the intention of spiking it up so that the curtains literally matched the drapes. 🙄)

♡ i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- Johnny has his own form of intimacy. The romantic aspect really stays out of the bedroom - he'll make dinner, bring home flowers, no-occasion presents, surprise drop-ins while you're working, holding your hand any time you go out together, etc. He's pure adrenaline and carnal need when he wants you. There are times where he's less fuck, more make love, but those are few and far between in comparison to the opposite.

♡ j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- Johnny’s cranking his hog daily, sometimes multiple times a day. The dopamine release is his cure-all. Bad mood? Nut. Minor aches and pains? Nut. Missing his pretty lil thing while on missions? Nut. Even thinking about you? Nutnutnutnutnut.

♡ k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

- Spit. He'll spit on your holes just to watch it dribble or use it as lube to finger you. He'll spit in your mouth and beg you to spit in his. He'll make you sick on his fingers just to smear it across your face. It's one of his many possessive tactics; a method of branding you as his without leaving those love bites that your coworkers and family question.

♡ l = location (favorite places to do the do)

- He doesn't really have a favorite. Anywhere is fair game, and there's no such thing as inconvenient. He'll obey laws, of course, but that's where his fence ends. It's only natural, after all, and who doesn't admire the beauty of nature?

♡ m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- lbr, a stiff breeze would probably brick him up, but he's been found to be particularly fond of you wearing his clothes. He once put his SAS beret on you when you picked him up from the airport; that was a game changer. He spent weeks afterward "forgetting" his sweatshirts at your flat (conveniently always a size too big for you), left his house slippers on the side of his bed reserved for your stays, always put his hats on you when it was even slightly chilly... Johnny has that possessive streak, and anything of his on you riles him up something awful.

♡ n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- He isn't big on the idea of any sort of bodily functions or fluids aside from cum, spit, or that time of the month. It's not like he's disgusted by any of it - sometimes things happen spur of the moment, and he's seen it all at some point or another - but the thought of intentionally invoking it doesn't do anything for him.

♡ o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- He's a giver, through and through. Whatever you're willing to dish, he'll gladly take and return tenfold. Your mouth makes him cum? That talented tongue is coaxing three electric orgasms out of you at bare minimum. He knows exactly what he's doing.

♡ p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

- Johnny is vicious. He's brutal. He's merciless. It brings him unparalleled joy to hear you complain about being sore or see the little hitch in your step from the strain. He's equally stiff, muscles grumbling every time he moves, and he loves it.

♡ q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Quickies are 100% a necessity. Often, there isn't quite enough time for extended play, and he damn sure won't allow for something a silly as time restraints to stop him from showing his undying appreciation for you.

♡ r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- Johnny prides himself on being willing to try just about anything twice; once for the experience, once to decide if he enjoys it. He's always down to test his own limits.

♡ s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- This could go without saying, really. John MacTavish is basically the Energizer Bunny™️. He's got a seemingly endless supply of energy that keeps him going for hours. Legit, it's not unusual for one round to last over half an hour, and he'll shoot for 3-5 consistently. Can't ever get enough. He lives for being inside you in any way he can.

♡ t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- There is a free-standing cabinet in the bedroom that is FULL of various toys. You both use them, on yourselves and each other. Nothing wrong with a little extra simulation (or a lot 👀). There's also a stockpile of lubes, toy cleaners, and massage oils. Better to be prepared for anything!

♡ u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

- Surprisingly, he's not a huge tease. Soap is pretty blunt about his wants. He'll make his advances through lingering touches in certain spots, but the intent is not to get you worked up. It's more along the lines of silent communication to see if you reciprocate the mood. Any teasing he may do comes in the form of foreplay.

♡ v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- It's a well-known fact that Johnny is physically incapable of being quiet when he isn't required to be. That man even talks in his sleep. In bed is no exception. He's not shy in the slightest about how good you make him feel, always growling in your ear about how you were made for him. It's like he can't filter his thoughts because he will pant out the most vile shit when he's inside you.

♡ w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- Soap is really into anal play, both giving and receiving. He'll do 90% of the prep work for you if you let him, and on multiple occasions, he's cum from rimming alone - no additional simulation needed.

♡ x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- He's all corded muscle and chisled features, an inverted pyramid made of solid marble. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and slim hips cut into a perfect V.

6", cut, above average thickness, slight right curve

♡ y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- His drive is fucking obnoxious. It's through the roof. Johnny is always keyed up and ready to go at a moments notice (not that he isn't constantly trying anyways). He cannot keep his hands to himself for any reasonable amount of time.

♡ z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- On the nights where you can successfully wear him out, Johnny is out cold in minutes. He'll fall asleep halfway on top of you, careless to how quickly you'll lose feeling in the arm he's weighing down. He won't wake as you eventually wiggle yourself out, either.