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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.

"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"

Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."

"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."

"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans.

"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."

"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."

Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself.

"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."

"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you.

"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"

Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."

"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."

But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.

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It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.

But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it.

Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt.

The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable.

So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night.

You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."

"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake.

Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there.

"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.

There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there.

Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.

Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"

You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."

Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours.

"Wouldn't know."

"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"

You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.

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

"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."

"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."

When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.

"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."

"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything.

"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?

"Tinder?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."

You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious.

"I like that one," he told you softly.

But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"

Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"

He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you.

"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.

"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."

Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.

"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."

You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.

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"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.

"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."

You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"

"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."

"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.

"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."

"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"

"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."

You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."

"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.

Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"

Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."

"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.

A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.

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

"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."

Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."

"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"

With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him.

Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely.

That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside.

Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.

Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole.

"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake.

"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh.

"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."

"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"

"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."

"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you.

Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.

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

Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?

"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."

Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"

"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead.

"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony."

Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy."

And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land.

You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.

"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"

You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.

You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."

You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.

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

Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day.

He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"

"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."

Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.

"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly.

You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."

"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."

"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."

When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over.

"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."

He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms.

You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."

Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.

"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest.

You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs.

"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"

"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."

You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.

Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up.

"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again.

"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again.

He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"

Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."

"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips.

He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"

"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."

Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing.

The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."

His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."

"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.

The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."

"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy.

"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"

Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips.

"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate.

Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."

Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."

"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.

He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."

Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips.

"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."

"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan.

"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."

You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."

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You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed.

"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first.

But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number."

But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"

"I'll let you find out later.

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@blahehblah

Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!

Read Bradley's version in Whole Lotta Love

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@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

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evansbby · 5 months ago

Text

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

#result of pure ari brain rot tbh #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #steve rogers

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fics-lovebot · 5 months ago

Text

enhypen fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

LAST UPDATED: 21/12/2024 ( the ones with the ** are the last ones added!)

poly / ot7

**brought the heat back - ( @neos127 ) toxic!enha, listen,,,,SÑDFLHSÑDJFH the sunghoon one had me giggling at my laptop like a gremlin omg

their s/o falls asleep waiting for them - ( @heeliopheelia ) fluffFFYY

you take your engagement ring off during an argument - ( @heeliopheelia ) angst, love it

come back to me..please - ( @thinemoonshine ) text, angst, they want you back after they messed up but you´re over it. I read this when i want a lil angsty angst bc there´s a lot of begging and shi

leche of the sirens - ( @thinemoonshine ) dark romance, mature themes, revharem, obssesive and possesive behaviour, corrupt nobles!enha, siren!reader. GRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (insert that one pic of a werewolf ripping his shirt) THIS IS THE BEST THING I´VE READ IN A HOT MINUTEEEEEE!!!!! omg I literally DEVOURED this

you´re short - ( @nikrangdan ) fluff, crack, love itttttt

when you block them from your spam acc - ( @heeslomll ) text, fluff, crack, THIS IS SO FUCKFIJR FUNNY LMAO

"i wanna break up" prank hyung ver , maknes ver- ( @luvrseung ) text, crack, JAY IS MY KIND OF MANNNN, and riki LMAOOOO why is he like that.

makeup voiceovers - ( @kairoot ) fluff, crack, this is so creative omg, I love itttttttt

possessive - ( @kairoot ) text, fluff, crack, DKJSADKJHKASD so fun to read

dear husband - ( @atrirose ) fluff, you doing that one tiktoktrend where you call them husband outta nowhere, so cuteee

pretty boy - ( @atrirose ) fluff, tiktok trend where you call them "pretty boy"

exe.enhaboy_stopped_working.exe - ( @star-sim ) fluff, making them flustered. the Jay and Ni-ki ones are my favsss

is your girlfriend single? maknea line, hyung line - ( @star-sim ) fluff, crack, youtuber! non-idol bf! enhypen. when your youtuber bf finally shows you for the first time to his audience and the chat starts simping. PLSSSSSSSSSSSS READ IT, ITS SO GOOODDDD

"i want to break up" prank - ( @enha-stars ) text, crack. "wanna hear it in spanish? NOH" LDSJHFSJFDH WHY WOULD HE-

"we´d make a cute couple" - ( @sainns ) text, fluff, crack. NOT jay asking at what time u had a thought last night so he can be prepared lmao

“If you were walking past a strawberry field and you were very hungry, would you eat a strawberry?” - ( @luvrseung ) text, fluff, crack, heesung aint even know wtf he did lmao

hands - ( @cypherchii ) text, crack, enha legal line. "aint nobody looking at that", the sunghoon one .... no bc author is so real for that

another man paying for your nails - ( @joysbaereal ) text, fluff, crack, JAYYYYYY once again being the standard

a little less scandalous - ( @bywons ) fluff, suggestive, bad boy!enha

"i miss being single" prank hyung line - ( @joysbaereal ) text, fluff, very suggestive, sunghoon needs to chill out LMAO.

for their doll - ( @dioll ) fluff, enha hyung line. items the´d have in their car just for you, soooo cuteeeeee :(((((

the other man?? - ( @thinemoonshine ) text, jealousy, crack, they are NOT about to let their girlfriend be in the same vicinity or presence of another man—especially, not one-on-one.

brought the heat back - ( @neos127 ) toxic!enha, highschool au, the sunghoon one was sexy ngl LFJSDFKJSH

sending them dirty texts while being surrounded by family - ( @heejake-hoon ) hyung line, VVERY suggestive. SDLFKJLDKJFH STOPPP I HAD TO PUT MY PHONE ASIDE WITH THE JAY AND SUNGHOON ONES,,"Be careful what you wish for, baby girl… you know damn well this dick doesn’t play fair." HAD ME TEARING UPPP

charmed by her - ( @xoamiiren ) noona!reader, younger bf!enha, BC WHY DID HEESUGN AND JAY HAD ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

give you the world (when you pout) - ( @okwonyo ) fluff, e.r NAURRR, NOT JAY CALLING HER "MY HEART" i lit threw my phone across my room, and sunghoon omg :(((( so fluffy

experienced vs inexperienced - ( @p4ranormaluv ) "which enha member wants someone inexperienced and which want someone experienced?" i 100% agree with this take and gawddd i have a thing for swtich!jake

blinded by your lethal face card - ( @blairbliss ) fluff, KSHKDFJHSKH stoooop this had me blushing n shii

**dress to impress? - ( @mlyscha ) crack, fluff, ASKJHS I LOVE THISSSSS, it´s so fun, JAY WAS SO OUTTA POCKET LMAO HAD ME LAUGHING OUT LOUD, thank god i was alone in my room or else

**did i rizz you up? - ( @wonryllis ) fluff, lowkey suggestive, STOPPPP THIS IS SO SDFLJKHLSH omg the niki one had me blushing idk idk AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON JUNGWONNN, that´s a man fr

**randomly giving them a rose on the street - ( @wonryllis ) fluff, omg???? i need a whole series based on this, so good

**tempting them during no nut november - ( @wonryllis ) smut, hyung line only, the sunghoon one is my favvvv

**when on your period - ( @fatalhoon ) bf!enha, fluff :((, PLEASEE YOUR HONOR I´M IN LOVE WITH 7 MEN! this is so amazing

**accidentally confessed - ( @sungbeams ) text, fluff, crack, this is so FUNNY !!! kjsfhksjfhd i loved it sm

**when you´re interested in league of legends - ( @heejamas ) texts, crack, fluff. HEESEUNG IS SO !!!!!!!!! LMAOOO i believe that would be him fr

**their 3yo daughter being angry at them - ( @yoursjaeyun ) crack, fluff, dad!enha hyung line, PLEASEEEEE they are so girl dad material :((, especially jay and hoon, i just know it

heesung

ex-bf! heesung texts - ( @fakeuwus ) crack, fluff, he´s SIMPIIINNGG

down bad - ( @boyfhee ) texts, crack, loser!hee, ITS SO FUNNY BC HE´S WEIRF AF UNPROVOKED SDFJS

hopeless - ( @star-sim ) FLUFF, emo!heesung, horrendously down bad! heeseung, cute sweet!reader. absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. AAAAA THIS IS SO CUTEEEEEE

who r u? - ( @jlheon ) fluff, you and heesung are in situationship but none of the members knew your knew, so they make up all these plans to lowkey figure it out. this was soooo entertaining lmao, i loved it

**sex addict - ( @heesimp ) smut,,,,wow, i had never read anything involving the sex addict trope, like ever, this is so gggooooddddddd

jay

random texts with bf!jay - ( @enha-stars )

too sweet - ( @star-sim ) fluff, suggestive, badboy!jake, nerdy!reader, downbad!jake. Jay is scared he will hurt you in the future so he tries to break things off but at the end of the day he´s whipped LMAOOO, I LOVE ITTTTTT

say it back! - ( @star-sim ) FLUFF, non-idol! bf! jay, clingy cute!reader, whipped!jake, like fr, UGHHHHHHHH SO CUTE AND DOMESTIC

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see - ( @lattegyu ) ig stories, fluff, crack, smau, non idol!jay

pictures of bf!jay enha send you - ( @ddksoo ) text, fluff

justice and mercy - ( @thoughtsofmetaphor ) god!jay park x virgin!reader, NAHHHH the potential rev harem this had is insaneee, i love it

eat the rich - ( @enhypencores )chaebol!jay x fem!reader, wheeeewww, i love this sfdlsdjfljkshd he´s so manly and possessive

jake

fuck buddy jake - ( @heeseungsbm ) smut, lowkey fluff bc he´s got a fat crush

texts with ex-bf!jake - ( @bywons ) fluff, CRACK, he´s down bad fr

pictures of bf!jake enha send you - ( @ddksoo ) text, fluff

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see - ( @lattegyu ) ig stories, fluff, crack, smau, non idol!jake

brought the heat back - ( @jayniks ) smut, idol!jake, giving him a bj while he´s on weverse live sdlkjlsd WHEWW

hello kitty meets batman - ( @star-sim ) fluff, angst, lowkey smut, dark horror creator youtuber!jake, downbad!jake, beauty vlogger youtuber!reader. fans had no idea their fav youtubers were in a long-term secret relationship. THIS IS SO GOOOOOODDDDDDDD plsss, i wish i could read it again for the first time

things we never said - ( @hoonigiris ) very angsty. it’s heeseung’s wedding, jake’s had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say. This is realllyy well written, i loved it

clingy bf jake - ( @onyourmarkks ) PLSSS i want him so bad :((((((( he´s so bf

taste of heaven - ( @moonstruck-muses ) vamp au, smut, fluff, angst, vamp!jake, human!reader. he´s keeping his true nature a secret. THIS HAS IT ALLLLL and the smut is so gewd too, pls i would love the see another part of this

grwm to break up with my bf prank - ( @jaeyunwon ) fluff, LSDJFLSKJ JAKE WAS HEATED, so cute

**waiting on calls - ( @miumura ) fluff, angst, exes to lovers, second chance romance, ex bf!jake, non idol au, I LOVE THISSSSSSS, its so different and well written

**ouch my head - ( @jakesangel ) smau, crack, fluff, "when y/n almost gets hit by a random hot basketball player who happens to have a huge crush on he" this is an on going series, so so so entertaining and fun to read lmao

**everything but nothing - ( @cherryrikis ) ANGST (i love that shii), non-idol!au, break up talk, football cap!jake, fluffy happy ending, comfort, i rrrreally wished i could read what the rest of enha did to make yn go back to her and jake´s house omg

sunghoon

texting bf!sunghoon - ( @heeslomll ) text, fluff, crack, HE´S SO UNHINGED LMAO

texting bf!sunghoon - ( @heeslomll )text, THEY ARE HORNY AFFFFFF

**long distance bf text - ( @cupidhoons ) FLUFF, long distance relationship, idol!hoon, UUUHHHHHGGGGGG THIS IS SO !!!!!!!! :( pls when is it my turn to be happy

**unblock me! - ( @okwonyo ) smau, ex bf!hoon, THIS IS SO FUNNY PLSSSSS, i love me some desperte simp hoon

texts with ex-bf!sunghoon - ( @saursoob ) text, crack

sunghoon as your downbad bf - ( @jaeyunwrld ) text, crack, fluff

random ass texts - ( ( @saursoob ) fluff, crack, downbad!hoon

freaky bf!hoon texts - ( @enha-stars ) fluff, crack, very suggestive, downbad!hoon, mentions of pee kink,,,IKYFL

pictures of bf!sunghoon enha sends you - ( @enha-stars ) text, fluff

emergency contact - ( @hoonatic ) ANGSTYYYYYYYYY, fluff, exes to lovers. weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. i love it SO fucking MUCH plssss

the pussy eating competition - ( @karinasbaby ) smut, HELLO???? THIS WHOLE CONCEPT IS CRAAZZZYYYYYYYYY, bc WDYM there´s a competition of how many times a guy can make a girl squirt under 5 minutes??????? IM- it´s good yall

crush - ( @star-sim ) fluff, crack, non-idol! bf! sunghoon, sleepy!hoon, dumb!hoon. AAAAAAAAA i love it :( so domestic and fun and cute and :((((((

without words - ( @slytherinshua ) fluff, PLEASEE I NEED HIMMMMMMM :(((((((((( they´re so in love

**sidewalk theory - ( @mlyscha ) FLUff, bf!sunghoon,, wowww ahaha so WHAT IF KMS RN AND CHANGED THE TRAJECTORY OF EVERYONES LIFE?????? THIS IS SO LDKFJHSKDFHLKSJHDLKGSHJGHL :((( miss girl this made me want to ugly cry and scream bc why is it so fucking cute :(((((((((((

**fixed comfort - ( @paarksunghoon ) fluff, non-idol!hoon, "the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much",,, SSSSSSO WHAT IF I TELL YALL THiS IS THE MOST SLICE OF LIFE-ISH AU I´VE EVER READ?????? it´s so domestic and cute and fluffy and perfect :((

sunoo

espresso - ( @star-sim ) dark academia au, downbad!sunoo, loser!sunoo nerd!sunoo, popular!reader, lots of sexual frustration. I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTT SMMM

please come back - ( @alvojake ) angst, fem!reader, car accident, death themes, this is perfect for one of those days you want to feel pAIN

jungwon

july jewels and music notes - ( @atrirose ) text, fluff, crack simp!jungwon. LOVE THIS, it makes me cackle

too much, baby? - ( @onlygarden ) smut, dom!jungwon, noona!reader, lowkey size kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT IS THISSSSFHDFHSKDJ

xo (only if you say yes ) - ( @rinanextdoor ) fluff, popular!jungwoon, secret admirer!reader, PLSSSS i need to read the next parts, it´s so good. I can only IMAGINE to fluff

act a fool - ( @thoughtsofmetaphor ) street racer!won x member's little sister!reader. nahhhh this needs a whole kdrama, reader is so cool

not for sale - ( @thoughtsofmetaphor ) droid!yang jungwon, parts shop owner!reader, THIS IS CRAZZZZYYYYYYY, the way he switched up one reader after she was done fixing him i-

ni-ki

disclaimer: he may be 18+ but I don´t feel comfortable reading any smut about him, so there won´t be any listed in here

**tsundere boyfriend - ( @cupidhoons ) text au, FLUFF, bf!riki, i WHOLEHEARTEDLY BELIEVE HE´S LIKE THIS i wanna die :(

sweater - ( @star-sim )fluff, angst, hurt-comfort, non idol bf!riki, happy ending, he gets insecure bc he doesnt recgonaize the sweater you´re wearing,

boys night - ( @star-sim )fluff, crack, non idol!riki, where his six friends tries to help him text his school crush. I LOVE THISSS, such a fun read

random texts with bf!riki - ( @sainns ) fluff, CRACK, "if u were my ex i wouldnt get over u, i would start tweaking like austin mcbroom" LMAOOOO he´s so real for tar

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see - ( @lattegyu ) ig stories, fluff, crack, smau, non idol!riki

gamer!bf riki - ( @alvojake ) FLUFF, IM GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET RN SDKFSLHSJDFH this was so CUTE

necklace - ( @rikiislvr ) fluff, idol!riki, i WISH this would happen to me but i´m too broke to be frequenting the same stores as him alsjfha, need a part two asap plss

2K notes · View notes

aurumalatus · 4 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 2.1k

genre/warnings. princess!reader, knight!kinich, slight enemies to lovers (not really, they just argue but idk the term for that tbh LOL), pixelprincess!au

summary.

ever since he became your personal guard, you've found kinich to be a royal pain in your ass. you've always assumed he felt the same, until the night of your matching ball. now, you're not sure what this burning in your chest means after all.

author's note. this is a drabble as part of a universe that i'm calling pixelprincess (knight!kinich x princess!reader). i don't really have a full fic planned for this or anything, i just have a bunch of small headcanons about them and i love aus so feel free to scream about them with me HAHA. thank you for reading! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

If there’s one thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that he’s not stupid.

Honestly, you could say a lot of things. You’ve heard the rumors just like everyone else, about the fearsome Captain of the Guard who passed training within a single day. They whisper that he holds a dragon’s power in his heart, a fact that strikes fear into any nation that dares encroach upon your territory. His reputation precedes him, and he’s somewhat of a mystery to the general public—most of them envision him as a hero, the key to the nation’s defense.

If there’s another thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that sometimes, you wish he was stupid.

The castle always feels larger during the summer, when the sunlight bathes the interior with gold and the halls bustle with movement during the day. Guards and aides rush in every direction, though none of them seem to spare a glance in your direction; there’s simply far too much to pay attention to today.

The maids are replacing the vases with fresh flora, Brilliant Chrysanthemums and Saurian Claw Succulents that make the room seem brighter, discussing which configuration looks the best. You know them all, of course; growing up within the castle meant that these women had practically raised you. Even as an adult, it’s hard to escape them when they feel like pinching your cheeks and reminiscing on old times.

Sensing the coast is clear, you crack the door open another millimeter, carefully slipping into the hall and blending in with the crowd. The maids, luckily, don’t notice, still fussing over petals and stems. You’d calculated this time exactly—right now, the guard patrol should be across the castle, checking the entrances before the ball tonight. If your information wasn’t wrong, then you should have just enough time to make it to the servants’ passages, and then out to the garden—

“Oh?”

The familiar voice makes you murmur some choice curse words under your breath. Of course, the dark-haired man in front of you is always several steps ahead of everyone. He’s leaning against the stone wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Princess,” Kinich greets, bowing his head despite how you wave him off—you’ve never been one for formalities. “What are you doing here?”

“Just taking a walk.”

You move at a brisk pace past him, but Kinich is faster—he always is, the annoying bastard. Before you can turn the corner, there’s the blade of a greatsword blocking your path. No matter how much you see it, you’re always surprised by the size of the damn thing—you’re shocked he can even lift it as it is. A half-smirk rests on his lips when you gasp.

“Taking a walk away from your lessons? I do believe your teacher’s room is in the opposite direction.”

The annoying thing about Kinich is that he truly knows everything, including your schedules. He’s thorough to a near fault, though you suppose that that’s exactly the kind of person who would be fit for Captain of the Guard. Still, you duck under his sword, unwilling to make eye contact.

“Lessons are tomorrow. I have other plans today.”

Kinich falls into step beside you, and the halls are suddenly clear of people—the crowd parts before you, a stubborn rock among a rushing river. You’re unsure if it’s due to your status, or due to your temper—it’s a well-known fact in the castle that Kinich can get you wound up quite quickly.

“And what might these other plans be?”

He always has too many damn questions, you think. Silently, you curse your father for assigning him to you. A series of attempts on your life last year had made him paranoid, and he’d been quick to promote the strongest knight as your personal guard. Back then, you’d been fooled just like everyone else into thinking that Kinich was some kind of serious, straight-laced hero. Instead, you’d since discovered that he was seriously annoying.

“Can I guess?” he asks, deftly dodging past the maids carrying bundles of tablecloths and the waiters carrying sky-high stacks of platters.

“No, you can’t. In fact, you can’t even ask. I should have you executed for that.”

Kinich raises a brow, amused. ��The Queen would never let that happen.”

And, unfortunately, he’s correct. Your mother absolutely adores Kinich as if he were her own son, and it irritates you to no end—especially when she heavy-handedly suggests that you make him your groom. The door to the back stairwell falls into view, so you break into a jog as you reach the end of the hall, but he’s right on your heel.

If I can just make it to the stairs…

Kinich steps in front of you again, not allowing you an inch further, and you nearly scream in frustration.

“If I didn’t know any better—”

You scoff. “And you, in fact, don’t know anything—”

“—I would say that you’re trying to avoid going to the ball.”

And, once again, you wish that just once Kinich would let something fly over his head.

Utterly defeated, you collapse into one of the plush chairs nearby, fanning your face. Kinich stands over you, a bit tense, as if he thinks you’re going to try to run again. You won’t; at this point, you’re too tired.

“So what if I am?” you finally admit. “You always complain about them anyway. I find it a little unfair that you’re allowed to and I’m not.”

As great as he is at his job as a guard, Kinich isn’t so great at facing the public, despite how popular he is among them (particularly the women). Whenever he can, he avoids social events like the plague, often volunteering to run perimeter duty as a precaution rather than attending with you. You, unfortunately, don’t have that luxury.

Kinich sighs, resting his weight on his sword. “I don’t complain, it’s just annoying when everyone is so loud and—”

You snap your fingers, interrupting and pointing at him accusingly. “You hear that? What you were just doing? That’s called complaining.”

Realizing he was caught in the act, Kinich rolls his eyes. “How very profound of you. If you put that much effort into your escape routes, maybe you would’ve made it this time.”

Your gaze narrows. “How about I stick a profound fist up your a—”

“Kinich? Is that you?”

The booming voice makes you both straighten up instantly. Kinich smoothly sheaths his sword, saluting to the king as he makes his way down the hall. You’re far less graceful about it, gathering up your skirts messily and quickly curtseying to your father.

“Your Highness,” you both echo.

If your father notices the tension between the two of you, he doesn’t say so; he looks as jolly as always, even more so because of the event today. He’s the social type, a trait you unfortunately did not inherit.

“Just the two people I was hoping to see,” he laughs, a full-bodied sound that booms from his chest. “I’m glad that the two of you get along so well.”

To your irritation, Kinich smirks, while you offer your father a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course,” you lie, sneakily jabbing your guard in the ribs. He coughs. “We get along like a house on fire.”

“That’s good,” your father says, nodding encouragingly. “You’ll both do well later tonight then.”

Your heart drops at the thought of attending the event. You know how long your parents have been planning this, and how long they’ve been practically begging you to find a companion. It’s all a long-winded scheme to find you a princely partner, and not one that you particularly appreciate—a great majority of the princes you’ve met are far too full of themselves. You truly have no interest in any of them.

Kinich, however, pointedly clears his throat at your father’s wording.

“Both of us?” he asks, enunciating slowly. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”

You perk up in interest—that detail had been lost on you.

“I invited several princes from neighboring nations today,” your father says, eyeing you with a pitying stare. You try not to feel offended. “I want my daughter to find someone suitable for her, no matter who that may be. Still, I was hoping you could attend with her this time? I know it’s not your favorite, but I would feel uncomfortable with her being around so many strangers alone.”

Kinich’s smirk falters, and he suddenly falls still. You wonder if he’s irritated by the prospect of attending the ball at your side.

(Distantly, you wonder why the thought of that makes you feel a bit ill.)

The silence grows awkward, and you rock on your heels, searching for something to say. Your guard looks a bit lost for words, likely because he wasn’t prepared for so much social interaction today. You can’t really blame him—if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be thrilled either.

“Actually, Your Highness, that won’t be necessary.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull at Kinich’s reply, but you hurry to control your expression, unwilling to give anything away to your father. The king raises a brow.

“And why is that?” he asks.

Kinich gnaws on his lip, an action that is wholly unlike him—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him appear nervous about anything in his life. Still, he meets your father’s gaze head on, coughs once, then says:

“The princess isn’t feeling well. I think it’d be best if she didn’t attend the ball today.”

He nudges your foot just as your father’s gaze drifts to you, and you thank your lucky stars that you did inherit your mother’s dramatics. You throw a hand over your forehead, fanning yourself aggressively.

“Since this morning,” you explain, looking as pitiful as possible, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Thank the archons Kinich was here, otherwise I might’ve fainted earlier.”

And you really do feel guilty when your father’s eyes well up with tears of worry.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he cries, then turns to one of his aides in a panic. “Call the doctor! Have him attend to her immediately. And announce that she’ll be absent from our festivities tonight.”

You force yourself to hide your smile at his announcement. Your eyes flicker over to Kinich, but for once, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused—in fact, he still looks troubled. Your father fusses over you for a bit longer, asking a series of questions about what you’d eaten and who you’d been in contact with. You answer as honestly as you can—the least you can do—and then he directs Kinich to escort you back to your room.

The hallway seems to empty out quickly after that display, and then it’s just you and your guard. For some reason, he seems to avoid your eyes. He doesn’t speak, merely offering you his arm, and after a moment, you take it.

“So, what changed your mind?” you ask, unwilling to let him sit in silence. He looks displeased by your question, but answers anyway.

“Nothing,” he says, expression blank, “I just didn’t think you should go to the ball tonight.”

The tips of his ears are flushed red, you note. Liar.

Still, Kinich keeps countless secrets that you’re sure you’ll never know, and you suppose it doesn’t really matter why he decided to let you off the hook tonight. Really, you’re just grateful you’ll get to sleep peacefully with no stinking princes breathing down your neck. The thought makes you smile as you finally reach your bedroom door.

“Well, what a shame it is,” you sigh sarcastically, turning the knob, “I could’ve been dancing the night away with the love of my life. Now I might never meet him.”

The corner of Kinich’s lip twitches.

“As if,” he replies gruffly, a touch too fast. “You wouldn’t like any of them anyway. They’re not nearly capable of handling you.”

Your eyes narrow, irritated by the implication. “And you are?”

He raises a brow in response. “Aren’t I?”

It comes out uncharacteristically soft. A switch seems to flip in the room, and you suddenly start feeling sick for real—it’s too hot, too quiet. Kinich’s stare weighs on you heavily, and you get lost in the depth of it. You freeze where you are, bedroom door half-open, and you can almost pick out the meaning in his words when he turns away, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, princess,” he murmurs over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams, and…get well soon.”

He makes his exit without another word, and you wonder if he’s still working tonight. Is he still going to guard the ball? The perimeter? What if one of the other princesses takes a liking to him—

You huff, deciding you don’t care and slamming the door shut. The ball is bound to be a drag, and you find Kinich annoying, you think as you fall into bed. You’re happy about this arrangement. Overjoyed, even.

Yes, you find Kinich very annoying.

…Don’t you?

#genshin impact x reader #kinich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #kinich x you #kinich #genshin impact #adeptus ink #pixelprincess!au

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suguru-getos · 8 months ago

Note

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

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cevansbrat0007 · 18 days ago

Text

Bold Moves

Summary: You decide to slip Ari your panties during an innocent encounter at the public library...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, Bird Being Brave, Going Commando, Light Roleplaying, Frisking, Manhandling, Spanking, Ass Slapping, P in V Sex, Implied Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Decided to finish this when I came across it in my drafts. Takes place earlier in Ari and Bird's romantic relationship. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I’m so glad you pitched me this idea, Marisol.” You beam as you finish writing in your notebook. “I know it’s still early yet, but I would love to collaborate with you for Halloween.”

“Yes!” The younger woman cheers, throwing her arms up in the air. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“Just I knew they picked the right woman to run the town library.” You throw her a wink before tucking your pad and pen back into your purse. “Now, I hate to cut this meeting short…” Out of habit you press a hand against your belly, silently wishing you’d opted to throw on a pair of spanx this morning instead of a flimsy pair of panties.

Frankly, you were tired of sucking it in. But every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you looked pretty damn good. Perhaps your confidence was growing after all.

“But I need to get home and change so I can run by the shop before it gets too late.” You finish, feeling grateful when the sweet librarian sees fit to lead you out of her office.

“Sooo…” The dark-haired woman drags out the word, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you both come around the corner. “Word on the street is that you’ve been seeing a lot of Detective Levinson lately. Everything good, I hope?”

“What do you mean?” You respond, willing your pulse to remain steady. “Everything’s fine. He just…likes for me to call him whenever something new pops up about Martin. That’s all.”

And whenever you lock up in the evening. And when you make it home. And then again to decide if he’s coming to your place for the night. Or, if you’re already on the back roads heading to his.

It was all so fun and exciting. But at the same time, it was just sex. Amazing sex, mind you. But just sex all the same.

Instead of responding immediately, Marisol simply chooses to link her arm through yours. “Mm. While I haven’t lived here long, I’ve already learned how much this town loves gossip.” She muses. “Which is why I try to fly under the radar at all times.”

“Uh huh.” You give her a gentle nudge. “Even when it comes to a certain Officer Milton?”

“Shh! We do no not speak that man’s name in this house!”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel like he always goes out of his way to just…be around. He’s like a puppy. I do not have time for puppies, chica. I’m too busy building a career amongst the books.”

“Well sugar, I suppose you might wanna tell him that.”

“Ay, but that would involve making conversation. Something I also do not have time for because–”

“Because he’s standing over there by the door, talking to our favorite resident detective.” You interrupt with a giggle, prompting the other woman to drop your arm in a flourish before racing off back in the direction of her office before squeaking out “you never saw me” - leaving you alone.

You allow yourself to stand there for another moment, content with watching the two men talk. While both were easy on the eyes, you were only interested in one of them. Glancing down at your outfit, you once again reassure yourself that you’re looking pretty damned good.

And then – just that fast – an idea strikes you.

Refusing to overthink what it was you were about to do, you discreetly make your way into the ladies room. After checking to make sure you were alone, you slip into a stall. Reaching underneath your skirt, you slide your lacy black panties down your thighs before stepping out of them.

Biting your lip, you tuck the small scrap of fabric into your pocket. Once you’re finished, you go to leave. But not before stopping long enough to refresh your lip gloss and fluff your curls. And then you’re out the door.

Hopefully you’d be able to catch the handsome bounty hunter before he left.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to find him. He’s right where you saw him last – near the front of the library still talking to Milton. As you near the two, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to pull this off without making an absolute fool of yourself.

But first you’d have to find a way to get rid of Officer Milton without making your intentions obvious. And then it hits you. While it might be wrong, it was officially time to pawn him off on your favorite new friend.

Marisol.

“Good afternoon, Officer Milton.” You chirp as you sidle forward, politely interrupting their conversation. “Detective Levinson.” Of course you’re immediately met with smiles from both men.

“Well get a load a’ you.” Milton gives a playful whistle once he gets a good look at your business attire. “Lookin’ sharp, darlin. Goin’ somewhere special?”

“Actually, I just came from a meeting down at the bank.” You tell them, smoothing your hands along your gray pencil skirt.

“Ahh.” The officer nods. “Fingers crossed all went well.”

“It did. Thank you.” Delicately clearing your throat, you make a show of glancing around before directing your complete attention to the young officer in front of you. “While I hate to interrupt you two when you’re hard at work, I think Marisol might need you.”

“She does?” The man immediately perks up, vaguely reminding you of your neighbor’s golden retriever.

“Yep.” You wince inwardly, hating yourself for lying. “Not sure what it’s about, but I think she’s somewhere in the back.”

Just like that, a switch has been flipped and Officer Milton is off on the hunt for a sweet little librarian who most certainly did not need him. Fingers crossed she would catch the hint and just go with it.

And now you’re alone with the one man with the power to leave you breathless. You were constantly left tied up in knots around this man. But today it was finally time you turned the tables on this guy.

“How’s the manhunt going, Detective? Any new leads?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss this part of my investigation with you, Miss.” He says, flashing you a rather charming smile. “But if you hear from our guy Martin anytime soon, be sure to give me a call.”

“Of course.” You nod, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well, I’d best be goin’ now.”

“Be safe gettin’ home.”

“Same to you. Detective.”

And then, without sparing him so much as a warning glance, you discreetly remove your panties from their hiding spot and slip them into the back pocket of his jeans. To his credit, Ari doesn’t move a muscle. Instead he continues to stare straight ahead, his gaze never wavering.

Head held high, you manage to make it all the way to your car before collapsing in a fit of nervous laughter. While you wished you could’ve seen his face, you know deep down that you were better off running off the way you had.

Maybe he’d call you tonight and maybe he wouldn’t. But all that mattered is that you’d mustered up enough confidence to make some bold moves this afternoon, which by all accounts made you a bad bitch.

Later That Same Evening…

It’s been hours since you pulled that stunt with Ari, but as luck would have it, you still had yet to hear from him. Not that you were worried or anything. In fact, if you had to choose an emotion, you were more disappointed than anything else.

While you’d long since abandoned your high heels by your front door, you were still wearing the outfit you’d worn to the bank. You’d simply been too excited to go by the shop so you’d decided to remain closed for the day.

Heaving a sigh as you rise from the couch, you’re in the middle of debating whether or not it’s worth trying to cobble together something for dinner when you hear the sound of your doorbell. Confused, you go to reach for your phone, only to frown when you see there’s nothing from the one man you wanted to hear from most.

The bell chimes again, prompting you to get a move on. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” You mumble, stretching your arms above your head. Opening the door, you’re treated to the sight of a large man standing on your porch with his hands in his pocket, his official badge prominently displayed on his hip.

Hello, Detective Ari Levinson.

“Evening, Miss. Apologies for bothering you so late.”

“Why hello, Detective. Somethin’ I can help you with?” You do your best to keep your tone light while you wait for him to explain himself.

“Sure hope so. Got a report about someone engaging in some inappropriate behavior.” He informs you, barely concealing his smirk as he leans his big body against the porch railing.

“Is that right?”

“Fraid so.” He nods solemnly. “In fact, I actually found a trail of evidence that led me right here to your front door.”

“I…well, there has to be some mistake.” You protest, your hand flying to your chest.

“Huh.” Ari sucks on his teeth as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small scrap of lacy black fabric. “Then you wouldn’t happen to know who these belong to, would you?”

Your eyes go wide at the sight of your panties dangling from one thick index finger.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but they’re certainly not mine.” You sniff haughtily. “I’ve never seen those before in my life.”

“Now, Miss.” He gently chastises, taking another step towards you, invading your space. “Perhaps I should warn you that it’s a crime to lie to a member of law enforcement.” Instead of responding you simply fold your arms across your heaving bosom.

The nerve of this man, thinking he had the right to question you like this right out in the open. Honestly, what would your neighbors think? The scandal!

“You know what? I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna need to search the premises.” The bounty hunter moves to enter your home, only to growl when your hand stops him short. “It’s also a felony to impede an official investigation.” Ari grunts, his brow furrowing in annoyance.

“And I'm thinkin’ I'm gonna need to see a warrant first, Detective.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his eyes darken - his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

“I’m sure a good girl like you ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” Ari rasps, leaning in so that his mouth now hovers a mere inch above your ear. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” You respond, sounding a little more breathless than you’d like.

“Unless there’s something in there you don’t want me to find?”

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Blowing out a breath you decide to give the man what he wants, if only to see what comes next

“Not sure I believe you, sweetheart.”

“Fine.” You concede. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you come in for a quick look. But you’ve gotta be fast.” You tell him, poking him in the shoulder before turning to lead him into your home. “Because I’m expecting company any minute and we don’t need an audience.”

“We’ll see.”

Your pulse kicks up when you hear Ari shut the door behind you, followed by the quiet snick of the lock. Guess that meant he thought he was staying awhile. Just as you open your mouth to protest, you’re caught off guard when he brushes by you, allowing you to catch a hint of his cologne.

“I’m not sure what you’re on, Detective.” You say, shooting him your fiercest glare. Meanwhile, this man responds with his most lethal grin. “But I’m giving you five minutes to figure it out before I–”

“You know, Miss, I didn’t wanna ask you this outside. Especially given the already delicate nature of this investigation. But do you happen to be wearing any panties?”

“Excuse me?!” His question has your mouth falling open, your cheeks burning hot with outrage.

“Answer the question.” His eyes track your every movement as you slowly back away in the direction of the stairs. “Because every good girl I know puts on a pair of panties before leaving the house for the day.”

“Goodnight, Detective Levinson.” You hiss before turning and taking the stairs two by two. “Please see yourself out before I’m forced to call your supervisor.”

Your words are met with silence. And it’s not until you reach the edge of your bedroom that you hear him moving – up the same stairs you’d just scaled only seconds before. You can hardly suppress a shiver as the heady thrum of anticipation courses through you.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart.” Ari growls softly as his impressive form fills your doorway, effectively blocking your only exit. “But I’m not through with my investigation.” It’s a struggle to ignore just how good he looks taking up space in your bedroom like this.

“I want you to leave.”

“Oh, I will. As soon as I’m finished.” He takes a step towards you, rolling up his sleeves as he does. “But first, I’m gonna need you to turn and place your hands on the wall.”

“I–I will do no such thing!” Comes your almost breathless reply. “I’m not a criminal.”

“Hm.” Ari cocks his head, his magnetic blue eyes leering at your much smaller, curvier frame. “But you are a suspect.” In less than a fraction of a second, this man is now standing in front of you. “And it would be rather reckless of me if I didn’t pat you down.” One large hand curls itself around your bicep before gently leading to a nearby wall. “You should know that I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to following protocol.”

Blood roaring in your ears, you place both of your hands on the cool surface. Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but jump when he kicks your feet apart, forcing you to spread your legs even wider, granting him better access.

“I’m gonna report you.” Unfortunately for you, your flimsy threat does nothing to deter him.

Your eyes fall shut when you feel two large, warm hands glide their way up and down your arms. It feels as tempting as it does comforting. He repeats the action twice more, almost as if he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security.

Next, those wandering hands are stroking along your sides, greedily following the path of your curves. And then you feel him bury his nose in the crook of your neck. It’s impossible to miss his soft groan as he inhales your sweet scent.

“Now I’ve gotta ask you, little Bird.” He hums, his sharp teeth nipping at your ear. “Do you have anything on you that could stab, stick, or poke me?”

“N-no.”

God, you were so fucking wet right now it’s embarrassing. And you can’t stop the moan that catches in your throat when his sensual ministrations move to your breasts – cupping, massaging, and kneading. He lewdly palms them through your blouse, this thumps paying extra attention to your hardened nipples. Your back arches of its own accord as he continues to play with your body.

And there’s a part of you that hates yourself for the way he makes you respond.

“Hm. So far so good, baby. Proud of you for keeping your hands where I can see ‘em.” Now his hands are skimming down your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt. His warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “But now it’s time for the big question.” Ari begins inching your skirt higher and higher. “And don’t you dare lie to me. Are you–”

“This ain’t right, Detective!” You protest, protectively clenching your thighs together. However, your words only make him chuckle. “Pretty sure this is an illegal search and seizure.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I would have to respectfully disagree with you.” He says at the same time as he grinds himself against you, his massive erection pressing into your lower back. “It’s my job to keep the community safe. And to deal with naughty girls who go around handing out their unmentionables to strangers.” Your skirt inches even higher now, stopping just short of revealing your dripping cunt.

“And what do you know?” He purrs, holding you still as his hand dips between your thighs, cupping your most intimate flesh. “Looks like we’ve got a little liar on our hands. Don’t we?”

“Don’t. We.” The renewed authority in his tone makes your pussy quiver.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And how should we handle liars, sweetheart? Hm?” Your knees go weak when you feel two thick fingers spear their way through your messy folds, lightly strumming over your clit. “What should we do with you?”

“....I…don’t know….”

His deep chuckle has you squirming in his hold, your hips bucking as he continues to grind the heel of his palm against your sensitive nub.

“Tell you what. You and I are about to have a serious conversation about what happens to pretty young ladies who can’t seem to tell the truth. Even when it’s in their best interest. What do ya say?”

“Y–yes, Sir.” You moan as your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, sparks of pleasure dancing behind your eyes. “Whatever you want – I’ll be so, sooo good!”

Thirty Minutes Later…

“Why the fuck you keep runnin’, baby?” Ari growls, smacking your bottom hard. “Yeah, get that juicy ass back here. Love watchin’ those cheeks bounce.”

The rhythmic sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, spilling out into the hall as Ari drives into you over and over again with his impressive cock.

He’d been hard for hours before he ever showed up on your doorstep. Frankly, he’d lost count of how many times he’d paused throughout the day to bring your panties to his nose. It was like he couldn’t seem to get enough of how good you smelled. But he also knew that wouldn’t be enough.

He needed to taste you. Needed your unique, earthy flavor on his tongue.

Thankfully, he had no doubt that he’d have time to eat the fuck out of your sweet pussy later. After he was finished fucking you into oblivion for being such bad girl. Who would’ve guessed his little Bird had it in her to be so deliciously naughty?

Meanwhile, you’re too busy sobbing into a pillow to be proud of yourself right now, your hands fisting the sheets while your man exacts his revenge on your body. At this rate, you’d already cum twice. And here you were already roaring along to orgasm number three.

Fuck, this man was a goddamned menace!

Your desperate cries grow louder as Ari picks up his pace, forcing you to clench around him as you finally resort to begging.

“Please, Ari!” You wail when he lifts your hips higher before adjusting the angle of his strokes. “I–ooh God–M’so close!”

“Oh yeah?” He snarls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Then let me see you work for it.” A sharp hiss escapes when his heavy palm comes down on your ass again, this time smacking both cheeks without so much as missing a beat. “This is how bad girls get punished.” You tense when he delivers yet another blow. “They’ve gotta work for their pleasure.”

“I’m sorry–wooh God!” Your voice comes out raw, bordering on hoarse.

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, there we go.” He gifts you with another slap, earning a sharp yelp from you. “Yeah, throw it back like you love it.”

After an afternoon of being bad, there’s nothing you want more than to be good for this man. You wanted to please him. Make him happy. If only so he never stopped touching you. And you were trying – honest to God, you were.

But it was all too good. Too much.

“Just know, everytime you run, I’m gonna drag that sweet ass right back.” Ari renews his punishing grip on your hips, holding you up even as your sweat slicked body starts to give out. “Now cum for me one more time so I can finally stop takin’ it easy on you, pretty Bird.”

END

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punkshort · 9 months ago

Text

i know who you are | 7. the week

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel is on a mission to win you back. You struggle with your feelings and visit an old friend for some perspective.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, physical violence, wounds/blood/injuries/gore, vague reference to suicide (Joel remembering his incident after Sarah), alcohol consumption, non-descriptive smutty memory, mentions of murder (adults and children), mentions of pregnancy (not reader)

WC: 7.7K

A/N: I took some liberties with the background of the Fireflies, it's not exactly canon.

Series Masterlist

Somewhere in Northern California

It took two days.

Two full days of freezing temperatures and frigid wind as he traversed up and down mountains, through snow covered forests with little to no shelter, but he finally made it. Right before nightfall, he approached the edge of the town you grew up in. The town your parents still lived in ten years ago. The town that holds a history of you and everything you hold dear.

It was too dark and he was too tired to enter the town and go any further, but fortune smiled upon him for the first time since he left Jackson when he spotted a dilapidated woodshed tucked into the forest. It was small, no bigger than a bedroom, but it would do. It would be the first time in two days he would get to sleep with a roof over his head, and he desperately needed it.

He grossly overestimated his ability to survive out in the wild. He did it before, of course, but life in Jackson made him soft. Made him complacent. Made him weak.

Time took its toll on his body. His age was an offensive reminder every time his knees creaked or his back twinged. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as strong. But he was determined and stubborn, two things that would never change.

With hands trembling from the cold, he jabbed his knife into the lock and broke it with ease, a small triumph in an otherwise unforgiving journey. The shed was mostly empty, save for a pile of wood and an axe. Plenty of room for both him and the horse.

After he scattered some oats on the floor, he grabbed his rifle and marched back out into the snowy tundra to do a perimeter check, knowing he would fall asleep the moment he allowed himself to slow down. By the time he deemed the area safe, he retreated back into the woodshed and lit a fire in the tiny furnace to warm up a bit.

Once he got feeling back in his fingers, he cracked open some stew and ate it cold straight from the can, too impatient to warm it up and too eager to get some rest. The wind howled outside, practically screaming at him with every gust: How could you say that to me?

The horse nickered softly, her head lowered, one back leg cocked as she began to doze off. He laid on the wooden floor, partially resting inside his sleeping bag, ready to strike if there was an intruder. The back of his wrist laid against his forehead while he stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering for the umpteenth time if what he was doing was even going to work. If he would even be capable of finding your house in this town, let alone finding any pictures still in good enough condition to bring back to you.

But it was all he had.

You had mentioned to him when he was sick, after you saw the photo of Sarah, how you wished you had pictures of your family. You looked so somber and distant and he was once again reminded that even though you lost them ten years ago, in your mind you only lost them months ago.

He couldn't imagine losing Sarah twice. Waking up one day, thinking she was alive and healthy and late for school just to be told she was killed mercilessly ten years prior and died in his arms. You were so much stronger than him. You always were. You were told your whole world changed, your family gone, and then tossed into a house with him, pressured by everyone every damn day to regain your memories and become a completely different person when he knew deep down if the same had happened to him, his answer would lie at the end of a barrel. But unlike before, he might not flinch.

You really fucking hurt me, Joel.

He rubbed his face aggressively, the pain and anguish in your voice haunting him. This trip left him with too much time to get lost in his thoughts, too much time to wallow in his grief and replay every single painful memory from the past several days.

Sighing, he dropped his hands to his chest and tried to think about something else. Letting his eyes drift shut, he let his mind wander back to before. Before your accident, before he fucked everything up, back to a time when you were happy and stupidly in love.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" he heard your voice behind him.

He grinned as he stirred a pot of sauce on the stove while you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his back.

"My accent rubbin' off on you now?"

You giggled and let go, walking over to grab the bottle of whiskey and pouring you each a glass.

"Maybe."

You handed him his glass and clinked them together before taking a sip.

"How was patrol?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pasta.

"Boring," you replied, hopping up onto the counter next to him, swinging your legs back and forth. "Jesse has a lot of work to do. He's not seasoned enough to be out there without one of us."

He nodded thoughtfully and lifted the spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. "Needs lemon," you said, licking your upper lip while he snatched a lemon from a basket in the corner of the kitchen and sliced it in half.

"Yeah, I know, but he's got potential. Just gotta get him to focus a bit more. Gotta be more aware of his surroundings."

You hummed and rubbed the back of your neck with a wince.

"You hurtin'?" he asked, but you shook your head immediately.

"Just tired."

"You sure?" he said while he strained the pasta. "I can rub your neck later."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. I'm absolutely aching over here," you said with a smile.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he told you, setting down the pot before wedging himself between your knees, his hands rubbing over your thighs. "Might not stop at your neck."

"Is that right?" you teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth playfully.

"Mhmm. First it's your neck, then shoulders," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, "then your back," he dragged his hands up your back and pressed you forward, nearly pulling you off the counter.

"Then what?" you asked breathlessly, arms loosely draping around the back of his neck.

"Before y'know it, you'll be pullin' at my belt, tellin' me you got an ache someplace else 'n you need me to stuff you full of my cock." His hands dragged up and down your back, his mouth nipping gently at your throat as you tipped your head back with a gasp.

"You know me so well," you murmured, a lazy smirk spreading across your face when you felt the urgency behind his touch.

"Yeah I do, baby," his words getting lost against your skin, "know you like the back of my hand. Know what makes you tick. What makes you feel good. Know what makes you scream my fuckin' name." His lips slotted over yours urgently, the pasta cold and long forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close.

"Take me to bed, Joel," you begged after you pulled your head away, breaking the kiss and then quickly latching onto his neck. "Need you. I want - shit!" you cursed when one of you accidentally pushed a plate off the counter and it smashed into pieces against the floor.

"Leave it, don't care," he said, picking you up and pulling your attention off the shards of ceramic littering the floor. "I'll clean it up later."

His eyes popped open, the echo of your giggle from that night bouncing around his skull. It was almost laughable now, thinking he felt lonely before compared to how he felt in the middle of fucking nowhere with only a sleeping horse to keep him company.

He wasn't stupid. He knew he would need to do more than bring home some pictures to convince you to forgive him. But it was a start, and maybe, just maybe with time, you would come to understand what you meant to him.

And if he was really lucky, he might end up meaning something to you, too.

It was stupid and it didn't mean anything.

That's what you kept telling yourself ever since Joel left and you found yourself curling up in his bed at night instead of yours.

His bed was more comfortable. His room didn't store the bad memories of your fight. It was simply easier to sleep there.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the way the sheets still smelled like him. Like the soap you both used combined with the outdoors and a hint of his sweat. And on the third night when you picked out a flannel of his from the closet and wrapped it around yourself, it was only because it was a particularly frigid night.

You didn't miss him.

Well, you missed having another person in the house, sure. But you didn't miss him on some deeper level. Maria and Ellie were wrong. They had no idea what they were talking about. They had no idea what was going through your head, what you were feeling, what you were struggling with.

There was no possible way you could have feelings for Joel. Not after everything he did and said. Not after the lies and the cheating and the deception.

But then why, when you were struggling to fall asleep at night, did your mind always wander back to the way he looked at you in the meadow, or the way his arms felt wrapped around you on the back of the horse, or the way he made you laugh when you played Monopoly?

And why did it feel like a part of you left with him that night?

"Pathetic," you muttered to yourself, pulling the sheets tighter and rolling over onto your side, his soft, worn flannel like butter against your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the memories from your mind and instead, replaying what he told you about the hospital.

He almost killed you. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head and only after presumably begging for your life did he let you go, and then he had the nerve to keep that information from you not only once, but fucking twice.

He was protecting Ellie.

But he still shouldn't have lied.

With a groan, you rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, sleep so far out of reach you didn't even feel like trying anymore. Then a thought occurred to you:

You weren't the only one he let live. There were two other people in Jackson who were there, who were shown mercy and didn't appear to hold any resentment towards him for it. In fact, they seemed rather happy with the second chance they were given.

You hadn't seen Ben or Lisa in a long time. The opportunity never presented itself for you to seek any perspective from them about that day.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

It took him a few hours to scope out the town and venture out of the woods, but by late morning he was heading down what looked to be one of the main thoroughfares in town, eyes squinting against the blowing snow as he tried to pinpoint the location of town hall.

All he remembered was your street name but he had absolutely no idea how to find it, so his plan was to break into the town hall and find a map. From there, he prayed Ellie's drawing was truly accurate enough to narrow down your parents' house.

He was freezing. His face was numb and his back was fucking killing him from riding so much, but he was so close. If he was lucky, he could find your house, get what he needed and head out all before nightfall. Maybe he could even spend another night in the woodshed. It wasn't so bad. At least he was warm.

As he continued to steer his horse down another road, he couldn't help but think Tommy was right about the storm. It was providing him some cover, just in case there were survivors around that wouldn't take kindly to his intrusion. He just hoped it would blow through in a day so his ride back would be clear.

After another thirty minutes of wind whipping at his face, the cold penetrating his coat and several layers underneath, he finally saw it. It was a smaller building than he imaged it to be, but the sign was clear. Hoping that the town size was as small as the town hall, he steered his mare down the drive and through the parking lot, making sure to take in his surroundings, confirming he was truly alone before he slid down from the saddle and trudged through the snow to the front doors.

He wiped away the snow from the window, peering inside before heading to another one and doing the same. It appeared to be empty so he tried the door, unsurprisingly finding it locked. He pulled out his knife and worked on the lock, his fingers stiff and his ears so cold he could barely feel them anymore. Finally, he broke the lock but when he shoved the door, there was something blocking him on the other side.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around, kicking and dusting snow off the surrounding area, looking for a brick or a rock. Giving up, he grabbed his rifle from the saddle and angrily made his way to the nearest window, smashing the butt of his gun against the glass repeatedly until it shattered. He gasped for air, not realizing how much energy he was exerting before he continued, knocking out as much of the glass as he could.

Sticking his head inside, he looked around. The place seemed empty. It was quiet, covered in dust and debris. Untouched dust was good. It meant nobody had been there in a while. Human or otherwise.

He crawled through the window, taking great care to not catch on any jagged edges. He held his breath, ears straining for any noise that might give someone away, but all he heard was the howling wind outside. This is your fault. Still, he kept his guard up. He walked room to room, finding his way to the lobby and searching the front desk for a map.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he grumbled as he opened and shut each drawer in the desk, only pausing to snatch up an old protein bar and shoving it in his pocket.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. There were a couple benches, chairs that were moved and tipped over, papers scattered about but his eyes were drawn to the portraits on the wall. There were a few paintings of men he would never recognize, unknown sheriffs and mayors, and some framed pictures of the staff, but the one that really drew his attention was the large map on the wall next to the front doors.

It was a road map of the town. Simple, but it was all he needed. He rounded the desk and shined his flashlight over the map, studying it, searching for where he was before looking for your street.

"Grant Street."

"Grant?" he repeated, his fingers lightly skirting up and down your bare back.

"Mhmm," you confirmed, eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips as you buried your face into his neck.

"That's funny," he said, his hand wandering past your waist and over your ass.

"Why's that?"

"Grant's my Mama's maiden name."

Your eyes opened and locked onto his. "Maybe it's fate, then."

Maybe it was.

Grant was only four blocks north. It didn't look like a very long road, either.

He could do this.

He was so close.

Lisa answered the door with the same look of surprise as before, although this time she was clutching needles and yarn in her left hand while the fire quietly crackled behind her.

"Hey," you said, arms wrapped around yourself as the snow storm continued to swirl behind you. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" Lisa said, stepping back, "how rude of me. Can I get you something warm to drink?" She closed the door behind you and took a step towards the kitchen. "I just boiled some water for tea, it's still hot."

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," you said as you hung up your coat and scarf, trying your best not to make a mess of melted snow all over her floor.

She told you to make yourself comfortable while she prepared your tea, so you wandered into her tiny living room, the space seeming a little larger now without your two imposing men.

"Where's Ben?"

"Working," she said, setting down a teacup and saucer next to hers. "I put a little sugar in it."

"Oh, thank you, that's perfect. I like it sweet," you replied, sitting down on the same couch as before and bringing the cup to your lips.

"I know, I remember," she said, and when she sat down and fixed her billowy top, you noticed for the first time the small bump protruding low on her hips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and she followed your gaze.

"Oh, yes," her tone soft, "I'm due this spring."

"Wow. Congratulations, Lisa. That's wonderful, I had no idea. I thought I would have seen you from time to time at the infirmary," you explained, setting down your tea.

"Nick agrees to see me after hours, sometimes he makes house calls," she said, picking up her needles again.

You titled your head to the side. "Why do you want to be seen after hours?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the yellow blanket she was making. "I still find it difficult sometimes to face some of the others in town, I suppose. I know I shouldn't but the guilt sticks with me."

"Guilt?"

Her eyes flicked up to yours and she shifted her weight. "I know Ben mentioned the Fireflies to you." She held out her wrist, showing you the small moth-like symbol tattooed there. "I'm not sure how much you know or remember-"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," you said, taking a deep breath. "Joel told me everything. About the Fireflies. About the hospital."

Her eyes widened, the needles abandoned in her lap.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you said, chewing on your lip and glancing at the fire. "He told me what he did there. Told me he spared us, let us go."

"Yes, he did," she agreed softly.

"Can you tell me more about that day?" you asked, dragging your eyes back to meet hers. "I'm having trouble understanding how I could have known this before and still managed to fall in love with him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

You laughed dryly and shrugged. "I mean he almost killed us. He killed countless innocent people, friends of ours I'm assuming, and I'm expected to believe I just looked past it? We just looked past it?" You motioned between the two of you. "He's a murderer, Lisa. He-"

"We're murderers," she corrected, and you fell silent. "We killed innocent people. We helped lead a revolution that resulted in hundreds of deaths, and where did that get us? Nowhere! People weren't any better off. In fact, they were worse. Friends and family killed, caught in the crossfire, tangled up in this idea of freedom and safety and giving their lives to an empty cause."

You swallowed as you watched Lisa's face, her eyes fiery and her tone hardened, transforming into a different version of herself before your very eyes.

"What Joel did..." she trailed off as she thought back to that day. "We did bad things. So did he, but he single handedly cut the Fireflies off at the legs. He stopped the insanity, stopped the war, stopped the ridiculous experiments and half baked ideas to save the world, regardless of the lives lost along the way. You don't remember, I understand, but allow me to explain."

"Please," you begged softly, "please tell me everything."

She rested a palm against her swelling stomach and leaned back. "We realized we made a mistake pretty early on," she began, "but we didn't have anywhere else to go. We had been living in the wild for so long. We were tired and hungry and weak and we fell for it. Fell for the sales pitch when they found us. We were told we wouldn't have to fight, but they didn't tell us what they expected us to do."

"W-what did we do?" you stammered, sitting on the edge of your seat.

"We killed people. Innocent people, point blank. FEDRA soldiers. Civilians who ratted out our location for extra food for their family. Children-" her voice wobbled a bit as she looked down at her stomach. "Children who were experimented on, vaccine prototypes tested on, who became horribly disfigured a-and screaming in pain, begging to be put out of their misery-"

"Okay," you said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath, unable to hear much more. It was becoming clear why Joel kept this from you, and although you had a right to know, you were beginning to understand his motivation. He was trying to protect you.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, flicking a tear from her cheek, "we planned on getting out. We couldn't do it anymore. Then, Joel showed up."

You held your breath, waiting for her to continue.

"We were doing perimeter checks. Loosening a spot in the gate so we could sneak out later that night. Then we heard the gunshots. And at first, we thought some infected got in. It was the perfect distraction, so we grabbed our gear and made a run for it."

She paused to take a sip from her tea, her eyes looking miles away.

"We almost made it. We were in the parking garage loading up a vehicle when he snuck up behind us. Told us to lay face down on the ground with our hands behind our heads. We never saw him and it wasn't until later we found out he was all alone. The whole time we were convinced it had to have been a group of men. It seemed impossible for one man to do what he did, but somehow..."

She trailed off again and cleared her throat.

"He gave us a second chance when we didn't deserve it," she said solemnly. "You and Ben dealt with the weight of what we did far better than me. I still struggle with the guilt, I can't..." she looked up at you, "I hope you never remember."

A chill went down your spine and you nodded.

"Try not to hold it against him," she said, offering you a small smile. "We've all done terrible things. It's not all black and white."

It ain't black and white.

"Yeah, okay," you replied quietly, standing up from the couch, your mind reeling. "Thanks," you added, motioning to the tea before she walked you to the door, "and congratulations again."

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her belly, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you stopped by. The truth is sometimes ugly, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to understand the whole picture." You nodded and bent over to shove on your boots. "Joel's not a bad man. I'm sure he was just trying to protect you by leaving some things out about our past. He would have told you eventually."

When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that now," you said, shrugging on your coat with a wry smile.

The whole way home, you practically kicked yourself for not visiting Lisa sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But it finally felt like a missing puzzle piece was back in place and you could begin to make sense of your confusing feelings for Joel.

Ellie was incredibly talented.

He needed to make sure to remind her of that when he got home because even through the blowing snow, in near whiteout conditions, he was still able to figure out which house was yours because Ellie's drawing was so detailed, so accurate that it almost felt like he had been there before.

He was eager and impatient. He just wanted to get inside and get what he needed and leave, but before he did, he peered inside the windows and did a walk around the whole house three times, just in case. It was a small brick ranch and if the snow wasn't so thick, he would be able to see the black shutters framing the front windows, just like in the drawing.

He shouldered open the side garage door first, a pile of fluffy snow spilling over the hard concrete as he stumbled in and shimmied open the roll top door so he could bring his mare inside.

He pat her between the eyes, murmuring his thanks for being so damn tough and sprinkled some more oats on the ground before slipping inside the house.

The door from the attached garage led right into a kitchen, which, by the looks of it, was rifled through on more than one occasion. No doubt some survivors had come through over the years and turned the place upside down for anything useful, but that didn't matter to him. What he needed wouldn't be stolen.

Glancing at the fridge, he paused when he saw some photos stuck to the door. He leaned his rifle against the wall and shook his head, curls flinging melted snow over the dusty floor, then bent over to examine the pictures. Most of them didn't have you and he began to worry he was in the wrong house after all, but then he saw it: at the very top was a picture of four people, all wearing summer clothes and Mickey Mouse ears with the Cinderella castle in the background. A middle aged man and woman bookended a young man, lean but muscular with his arm draped around your shoulders.

You were younger, maybe still in high school, and your hair was longer and lighter, but he would recognize that smile anywhere.

He carefully plucked the photo from the fridge and brought it closer, his eyes raking over every detail of the picture, from the brightness in your eyes to the cotton candy pink sky behind you.

You looked so happy.

Nothing like the way you looked when he last saw you: broken and bruised. Ruined and dejected. Because of him.

You spared my life just to break my heart.

He blinked and pocketed the photo before turning around. The living room was in worse condition. It appeared someone must have stayed there at one point because the couches were shifted around, an armchair wedged in front of the door, cushions flung around haphazardly.

He had to move furniture out of the way, dig around a bit through broken bookshelves, but he managed to finally unearth an old photo album. Resting on one of the couch cushions with a huff, he took a few moments to flip through it, smiling now and then when he saw an especially cute picture of you. The wind outside was howling so loudly, the old house creaking with every gust that he couldn't hear when footsteps slowly crept up behind him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his own rifle.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He knew better. He should have scoped out the inside of the house before getting distracted. But he was too excited and too eager to get what he came for that he forgot his own rules. And he took for granted the snowstorm would hide his tracks.

Now he was hunched over on the living room floor, leaning against the wall with his wrists tied behind his back while five raiders went through his things.

"Hey man, don't you like peaches?"

"Fuck yeah I do, give it here."

Joel groaned, the back of his head throbbing, thick, sticky blood slowly trickling down the back of his neck.

"He's waking up."

"Hey, princess, how's the head?" one said with a sinister laugh. Joel ignored him.

"You got some nice shit. Wanna tell us where your camp is?"

Joel opened his eyes and glared at the man in front of him, wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves and a black bandana pulling his dark, wiry hair off his scarred face.

"Fuck you."

The punch came fast and hard across his jaw, making him see stars for a moment. The other men chuckled and got back to dividing up his things.

"You wanna try that again?" the first man asked, crouching down in front of him. Joel tugged on the rope holding his wrists together. The knot was tight but it wasn't foolproof. He just needed a little time to loosen it up.

"Don't got a camp."

"Bullshit," the man barked, spitting against the wall next to Joel's head. "Ain't nobody out here with this kinda gear and a goddamn horse roughing it all alone. Now, just tell us the city and we'll take it from there. We'll even let you live."

He heard one of the other men scoff but the rest remained quiet, and if Joel wasn't already convinced they were planning to kill him either way, he definitely was now.

"Boise."

"Boise?" he repeated, and Joel nodded, twisting his hands behind his back, feeling the coarse rope burn against his skin. The man in the leather jacket sighed and hung his head before landing another blow, this time across the mouth. Joel's lower lip got snagged on his teeth and tore. Blood trickled down his chin as he angrily whipped his head back towards the raider.

"I told you what you wanted!"

"You fed me a bunch of bullshit is what you did," he said, kicking Joel in the ribs. He gasped for air, doubled over against the wall, coughing and spraying blood across the faded floral wallpaper. He wondered if your parents did the wallpaper themselves, if your mom picked it out, or did the house already come like that?

Joel tugged harder on the rope, feeling it start to give. He needed to stay focused. He needed to make every move count if he wanted to get out of this alive.

The raider pulled a revolver from the back of his pants - Joel's revolver - and flipped it over in his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he leaned forward and pressed the barrel against Joel's forehead.

"I'll give you one more chance, asshole," he said, his dark eyes boring into Joel's, "tell us where your camp is or else I shoot you in the fucking head."

"What the hell was he doing here anyway?"

"Shut up, Mike," the guy in the leather growled, eyes still trained on Joel.

"No, but seriously. There's nothing in this house worth taking. We've been through this neighborhood months ago."

The raider's eyes flickered around the room and Joel tugged harder on his restraints when he looked away. Then the man spotted the photo album lying face down on the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, lowering the gun and picking up the album. He began to flip through it and Joel felt the rope finally give. The raider let out a low whistle and slid a photo out to look at it closer. "Don't tell me you came out in the middle of a storm just to find something to jack off to," he teased, holding up a photo of you in a yellow bikini by a pool. He flipped the picture back around and grinned. When he went to stuff it in his pocket, his attention momentarily diverted, Joel took his opportunity to strike.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched the revolver from the raider's fingers and shot him in the temple, his body immediately falling limply to the side. Wet, sticky blood sprayed all over Joel's hand but he just tightened his grip on the gun, taking aim and bringing down another one of the men while they were still too stunned to move.

"Fuck!" one of the remaining three men screamed as they scrambled for cover. Joel ducked behind the couch and held his breath, straining to hear the scuffling of their boots, trying to pinpoint where they were in the small room. When he heard one of them accidentally knock against the kitchen table, the wooden legs scraping against the linoleum, he straightened up and took aim, taking out another man with a bullet right between the eyes, but unfortunately one of the last two men got a shot in as well.

The bullet grazed against his left bicep. Joel hissed and ducked back behind the couch. He would deal with it later.

"Come on, man, we can work something out," one of the men called out after a minute. "Let's just go our separate ways. Act like this never-"

Joel jumped up and shot the man in the cheek, the bullet traveling through his mouth and out the back of his head, leaving brain matter that looked like globs of gelatin dripping down the kitchen cupboards after he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Joel stepped towards the kitchen, now only one on one. He got cocky. He was feeling too confident with how quickly he took out the group. He didn't even see it coming when the knife lodged into his side, just above his hip. Without thinking, he yanked the knife out, twisted around and jammed it into the final raider's throat, watching as he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood, and didn't look away until he stopped twitching.

Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he used it to his advantage, his left hand pressing weakly against his wound, the wound in his arm preventing it from being very effective while he searched the dead bodies of the men for anything useful. He had brought some first aid with him when he left Jackson but he was too far from home, he would need antibiotics, at least, if he was going to make it back.

Of course, he came up empty, so he snatched his first aid kit from the table and stumbled down the little hallway, searching for a bathroom. He knew it was a lost cause, the raiders already admitted to clearing the place out months ago, but he had to try.

He flung open the medicine cabinet with a grunt, the pain beginning to set in now. Pressing his bloody fingers against the stab wound as hard as he could, he rummaged around the cabinet, leaving paths of red everywhere his fingers touched, then tried the drawers under the sink.

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered, collapsing onto the cool tile floor as he began to sort through his first aid kit. There were no towels left but he was sitting on an old bathmat. He groaned in pain when he lifted his hips to pull the bathmat out, shook out the dust and dirt, then pressed it against his side, bringing his knee up to hold it in place.

With trembling fingers, he threaded a needle. He wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt, but they were stained red. Ripping open his jacket and flannel, he lifted the two other layers he had on underneath and lowered his leg to get a look at the wound.

It was deep and he was losing a lot of blood, but he was fairly certain the knife wasn't long enough to knick any organs. His stomach wasn't swelling, that was a good sign.

He only had a small bottle of antiseptic, so he used most of it to clean the wound and then the needle, saving a little bit to use on his arm later.

He took several quick breaths in, hyping himself up, then paused when he first shoved the needle through his skin. Tears sprung up, blurring his vision, but he blinked them away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In and out, in and out, he slowly stitched himself up. The angle was awkward and the stitches were ugly, but it got the job done: the bleeding stopped. His heart was hammering in his chest, sweat poured from the sides of his head, mixing with all the blood drying on his face and beard. He slumped to the ground with a pained groan, lying flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, a moment to catch his breath and then he would go.

Would he ever see you again? Would you ever even know why he came out there? Would you always wonder what happened to him? You told him you cared about him, but was that even true anymore? After what he did?

"C'mon, baby, gimme a sign," he whispered to himself, "gimme a sign that I still got a chance in hell 'cause if I don't, I'm not sure I got the strength to make it home." Tears welled up in his eyes again and this time he let them fall. He sniffled and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. Divine intervention? Genius to strike? A brilliant idea to form? But all he heard was the blowing wind outside.

The tile felt so cool against his burning hot skin. A small voice in the back of his head told him the longer he stayed there the weaker he would become, but he was just so tired. He rolled his head to the side, his eyes about to slide shut when he saw it: a dusty, opaque orange bottle rolled all the way against the wall underneath the sink.

Blinking a few times, he wondered if he was imagining it.

He wasn't.

Stretching his arm out, he slowly reached underneath the vanity and pulled out the half empty bottle. Holding it above his face, he squinted at the letters on the faded sticker.

Penicillin. Use as directed by your dentist.

His breath caught in his throat when he read your name on the label.

He finally got his sign.

"What happens when we die?"

"What?"

You rolled over onto your side to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looked so peaceful, lying in bed like that. His eyes closed, face relaxed. You repeated your question.

"Don't know," he said, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Haven't died yet."

You giggled and he smiled, pulling you closer. He smelled so good. Like the rain and sex and smoke from the fire.

"I mean... do you think there's a heaven?"

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your bare arm.

"Yeah, I do."

You swallowed nervously and drew invisible circles into his skin, making him shiver.

"Do you think..." you trailed off and he froze, picking up on your tone.

"What, darlin'?"

"Do you think we'll make it? To heaven, I mean?"

His eyebrows pinched together. "Why wouldn't we?"

"You know why," you replied softly, "we've done bad things, Joel."

"Yeah, but we ain't bad people," he reminded you, then rolled over, pushing you onto your back so his arms caged you in. One knee slotted between yours and you spread your legs, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, dipping his chin down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing. "Besides, this is heaven right here," he murmured against your mouth, feeling you smile.

"Ain't nothin' better than this."

You awoke with a gasp, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. That was the first time you had a dream about Joel, and something about it made you uneasy.

You had slept in his bed the entire week, wrapped in his clothes, and today was the day you had expected him to come home. Shrugging off the dream to no more than your subconscious fixated on his return, you forced yourself to get out of bed, fixing the sheets so it wouldn't look like you had been sleeping there and then headed to your room to change and freshen up.

The past couple days you had secretly hoped he would come back sooner but you refused to let it show. If Ellie or Dina or Maria asked you about it, you played it cool, or at least you thought you did. But every night you stayed up as late as you could, curled up on the couch all alone, waiting. Every time someone walked by, your body stiffened and your pulse raced, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps walking up the porch, but they never came.

But today was the day. The seventh day. His note said a week, and you knew if Joel was alive, he would stick to his word.

His absence afforded you a lot of time to think. Time you didn't realize you desperately needed, and now that you were able to process everything clearly without his overwhelming presence muddying the waters, you felt confident you knew what you wanted now.

All day at work, you were distracted. Nick had to call your name repeatedly to get your attention on more than one occasion, and by the fifth time you felt guilty. He didn't say anything, though. He understood. By then, most of the town knew Joel had left. Word spread like wildfire, especially once the storm passed through. It didn't take a genius to figure out how difficult it would be to survive all alone in those conditions.

Then the rumors started.

You tried to ignore them, but it was hard. When people began drinking and getting loud in the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear.

When you heard a man claim he saw Joel's horse frozen in a river during patrol, you stopped going to the dining hall to eat.

It was dark, it was just a deer, Tommy had told you later after he went out to the river to check, but it still shook you up.

When the sun set on Jackson on the seventh day and Joel still hadn't returned, the fear began to take hold. Your stomach churned, making it impossible to eat the following morning. You had hardly slept, the bags under your eyes dark and heavy. Nick begged you to take the day off but you insisted you needed to stay busy, although it didn't help much. On your lunch break you tried to casually walk by the main gate, the one near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of him returning, but you had no such luck.

So you went back to work. You kept your hands busy, tried to keep your mind occupied, but it was impossible.

I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you.

You couldn't get those words out of your head. The guilt was weighing you down as you grew worried that was going to be one of the last things he ever said to you.

"Went on a date the other night."

"With who?"

"Cindy, from the kitchen."

Ricky laughed heartily and Andrew smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, man. We're on watch, we can't be giving ourselves away."

"It's the middle of the goddamn night and we haven't seen any infected in weeks. It's too cold for them, they're all frozen somewhere waiting to thaw in the spring," Ricky said, shouldering his rifle.

"Yeah, but still. You never know. There's more than just infected out there."

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "Tommy telling you ghost stories again?"

"Raiders ain't ghost stories, asshole," Andrew shot back.

"And raiders never make it this far up the mountains, asshole," Ricky replied, mocking Andrew's tone.

Andrew grumbled under his breath and strolled away from the tower, towards the gate, his eyes scanning the treeline. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was pitch black and deathly quiet.

He turned on his heel and began the slow walk back towards the tower where he could see Ricky unwrapping a granola bar and pulling a paperback book from his back pocket.

Just as he was about to chastise him for letting his guard down, he heard twigs snapping in the woods. He whipped around, bringing his rifle up so he could get a better look with his scope.

"What the hell was that?" Ricky's whisper materialized in his ear.

"Dunno. Something's out there."

Ricky lifted his own rifle and scanned the trees as well, both of them holding their breath, waiting for another noise.

"Maybe-"

Then they heard more twigs snapping and pine trees raking against fabric. Louder this time.

"Fuck," Ricky muttered nervously, his palms growing sweaty inside his gloves.

"There," Andrew said lowly, and Ricky followed his aim. Something was approaching in the dark. Something big.

"I got it."

"No, just wait a second," Andrew said, squinting through the scope. Then his jaw went slack when he realized what it was.

"It's a horse."

"What?"

"It's a fucking horse, bro," Andrew repeated, his voice rising a little.