#it’s hard to explain. things always feel like i’m remembering a dream | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elihermit · 2 months ago

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Can you do a buck x reader where the reader and buck are married but she gets amnesia and only doesn't remember buck and their relationship. But it ends with fluff

where’s my mind?

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: you wake up in a hospital bed surrounded by your family and friends, but amnesia took away the memory of your husband, what’s Buck gonna do?

word count: 2,1k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, I hope you all enjoy it, because I definitely had fun writing it 🫧 p.s. requests are open

“Yes baby, I will be home in 10 minutes, just had to stop at a gas station otherwise I wouldn’t make it.” — you say over the phone and sigh. Your day was long enough, of course it couldn’t end well, something had to make it a bit longer.

“Okay love, be safe.” — you hear Buck’s voice and smile. Who would have thought that after four years of dating – you can finally call this man your husband? The past three months of being married were so wonderful, you had everything you dreamed of. “I love you.”

“I love you too, see you soon!” — you smiled again and hung up the phone.

Well, this gas station definitely looks a bit shady, but it was the only one near and you really needed to get some gas.

It was 11 p.m., streets are getting emptier, and flashlights are the only source of seeing something in this darkness. You felt shivers down your spine and thought that it’s time to go home, you didn’t like this place.

Your hand reaches for the car door to get into the driver's seat. But this never happens. Instead, you feel a blow to your head so hard that the only thing you remember is falling to the ground and darkness. If someone got a reward for the most unfortunate end of the day, you would get it today.

Next thing you know, you wake up in a hospital and you try to properly open your eyes, but the light in the hospital is so bright that you squint for the first few minutes. You feel someone is sitting next to you and you turn your head in their direction. It was Maddie.

“Maddie? W-what happened?” — you finally speak and don’t recognize your voice. The voice is so hoarse, quiet and low.

“Oh (Y/N), you’re finally awake.” — Maddie said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re fine now, you got attacked at a gas station and had a concussion.” — she took your hand and squeezed it. “I’m gonna tell Buck you’re awake, he just left to buy some coffee. He will be so happy.” — one more smile from her and she left your room.

“Buck? Who’s that?” — you think to yourself and get confused. “Maybe it’s a doctor or something.”

A man runs into your room with a relieved look on his face. You assumed it was Buck. But you really can’t remember his face. Maybe it’s Maddie’s friend or a doctor she knows, she's a former nurse after all.

“Hi baby, I’m so glad you’re awake.” — he rushed to sit next to your bed, took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you? I can’t remember if I ever saw you.” — the confusion is written on your face, you furrowed your brows and looked at him.

But Buck just laughed and smiled at you. You always liked to call him “sir” to tease him. He had no idea why you did that, but he secretly liked it, it made you look cocky.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, but I’m getting quite uncomfortable by my hand being kissed by a stranger. You better explain.” — you said that and pulled your hand out of his. Why does he think that he has some privilege to do that?

Then Buck realized. You don’t remember him. He felt like his world fell apart in one second. Everything they had been building for almost 5 years just disappeared. Your eyes were saying everything. There’s no love, affection and fondness in them. You didn’t look at him like he was the most important person in your life anymore.

“Maddie, can you explain? This man seems too stunned to speak.” — you said annoyingly, because no one gives any answers.

“(Y/N), I’m Buck, your husband.” — he said with so much pain that for a moment you thought that it’s you who’s acting stupid.

You couldn't lose your memory like that, could you? You remember everyone except your husband. Oh god, you're married, you probably have a house together, lots of plans for the future, but you don't remember anything.

Your head starts to hurt a lot from all the information that doesn't seem real. You look at Maddie and you see that tears are starting to form in her eyes. You see Hen standing outside the door of the room and talking to the doctor. The saddest look you've ever seen is on her face. Everyone remembers everything, why can't you remember?

The doctor comes into your room and gives you a little smile. This smile didn’t say "it's good that you woke up", this smile said "hang on, you have a lot of surprises ahead."

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, I have some news that I need to share. (Y/N) experienced a severe blow to the head, which led to dissociative amnesia, due to which she may forget something or someone specific in her life.” — so it’s true, you did forget your husband. How long have you two been together? How many good memories did you forget?

“What can we do?” — Buck said, pursing his lips. He took your hand again and squeezed it. This news shocked him, he wasn't ready for it, but he knows for sure that he is ready to do everything in his power to make you remember him.

“The best thing you can all do is put her in the environment where she has been for the last 5 years. Guide her slowly and carefully tell her the events she has forgotten. Memories can come in flashes and this is normal, it means that she remembers and after a while she will remember everything. But I must warn you that there is a chance that she will not remember anything.” — the doctor said and gave Buck a soft look. Unfortunately, he has to deal with many cases of amnesia and the hardest thing is to see the patient's family and know that they don't have the slightest idea what to do next. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to check on another patient.”

There is a chance that she will not remember anything. These words ring in Buck's head. What if she really doesn't remember anything? Would he have to win her love all over again? Would he have to propose to her again? Will they have to build everything again for another 5 years?

2 months later

The door opens. You came back from grocery shopping. Apparently, this is the house that you and Buck moved into after your wedding. Home sweet home, only you don't feel at home. You remember that you lived alone, there wasn't even a man on the horizon that you liked, turns out you're already married.

Buck is very sweet, he hasn't left your side for a second since you woke up. He showed you pictures of you together. Here you are at Bobby's birthday party, here you saw Jee for the first time, here you are at Chim and Maddie’s hospital wedding, here you are spending a free day at the beach. And you could remember those events, but you don't remember living them with Buck.

Yesterday Buck told you that you were supposed to fly to Europe together for the first time in 2 weeks. It's been your dream all your life and Buck was happy to make it a reality. He was happy to share memories with you that would keep you both warm in the future. But the trip will have to be canceled, because he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“I know it’s a lot and you probably want to run away, but listen, I’m here if you need me. I know you don’t remember me, but I remember everything and my love will be enough for both of us for now.” — Buck put the bags on the floor and came over to you. He stopped in front of you and didn't know how to behave. He wanted to kiss you, but would it be too much? He wanted to hug you, but wouldn't that scare you off?

Seeing how he hesitated, you hugged him yourself. You hugged him to you as hard as you could. The thing is, you were very scared. But Buck instilled a sense of security, he was your safe place. You didn't remember him, but your body remembered exactly how to react to him. And you trusted that instinct.

So far, you have agreed to sleep in separate bedrooms. You didn't want to rush things, and he didn't want to push you. So when night fell, you said goodnight to each other and went to your rooms.

You lay down on the bed and put your head on the pillow, it smelled like Buck. His cologne, his shower gel, the whole room seemed to be filled with him. You looked at the bedside table and saw a photo of you together. So happy and beautiful, in the photo you were somewhere in the park.

“I promise I will remember you. For us.” — you said quietly to yourself and fell asleep.

It was a beautiful sunny day. You look at yourself in the mirror and you're wearing an amazing wedding dress. Your hair, makeup, jewelry — all this made you feel like a princess.

“Athena, I’m so nervous, I don't think I will remember my vows.” — you turned around to Athena while she was preparing your veil.

“(Y/N), you and Buck have been preparing for this wedding for six months, if something goes wrong, it will definitely be Chim that got into some shit again.” — she laughed and took your hand.

“Listen, don't memorize your vows, speak from the heart. Remember how he makes you feel, remember his every look and touch, remember how he looks at you. And don't forget to add his nickname at the end. What do you always call him?” — Athena looked into your eyes and smiled. She knew for sure that your vows would be perfect.

“Light of my life.”

You woke up and were breathing heavily. It was a flashback from your wedding. Of course, you always called him "light of my life." Because he saved you from the darkest stage of your life.

You had your favorite white tulips at the wedding. Buck wanted everyone to come in colorful outfits, but you insisted on a dress code. And the cake ended up being 5 times bigger than you expected, so at the end of the day you handed it out to each guest, so they could eat it at home.

You remembered. Panic began to take over your whole body. Or is it just your love for your husband has returned and your body is responding to it?

You lifted the blanket, got out of bed, and hurried to the room where Buck sleeps. But he wasn't sleeping, you saw the light in his room and opened the door.

“Buck…” — you whispered and felt tears on your cheeks.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” — Buck saw how panicked you were and rushed to stand next to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“Light of my life.”

He froze. Did you remember? Or is he dreaming? He didn’t want to move to not scare the reality. He just wanted to stay in this moment.

“You don't like oranges, so we immediately told the pastry chef not to offer us cakes with oranges. You really want children, so on our second date we started choosing names for our children. When you were struck by lightning, you pretended to be a Flash for 3 months, and when I dyed my hair and didn't tell you about it, you started calling me because you didn't recognize me, even though I was standing next to you the whole time.” — you started rattling off the facts of your relationship quickly, as if you were afraid to forget, but you remembered everything.

You saw the tears in Buck's eyes and started crying even harder. You couldn't even imagine what he was going through these two months while you didn't remember anything.

“I knew you would remember.” — he said and had the biggest smile on his face. “C-can I kiss you?”

“Please.” — you said it and pulled him to you for a kiss. So desirable for both of you.

“Don’t cancel Europe, we need more memories.”

Buck just laughed, picked you up and carried you to the bed. It's going to be a long night.

#911 imagine #911 fic #911 x reader #911 abc #911 fanfic #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz x y/n

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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cheriladycl01 · 7 months ago

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Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she is a huge bookworm and he always so supportive about her passion And the Internet has gone crazy about it. Thanks :))

Bookstagram - Toto Wolff x BookwormWife! Reader

Plot: Taking a look through your bookstagram and how supportive Toto Wolff is of your love for reading. Encouraging you to pursue your dream of writing.

Credit to multibabydoll for the GIF

You loved reading and books. Before you met Toto, you used to be a bookseller and then worked for a publishing house. You actually met Toto because of the influx in Motorsport Romance's that made your company send you to a race to get some ... hands on experience and you ended up having your own sort of Motorsport Romance with a Team Principle.

You ended up marrying Toto and at first it was hard, but when COVID came and you ended up working from home since then so coming to the races had been much easier.

y/user

Liked by lucyscore laurenroberts and mercedesamgf1

y/user: My reads of the month! Really loved both of these and I can’t wait for book to from Lauren!

Book 1: Things We Hide From The Light by Lucy Score

Book 2: Powerless by Lauren Roberts

Tagged 2 People

View all 237 comments

lucyscore: I’m glad you enjoyed this one!

-> y/user: it’s really good!

fan1: i love these!

toto.wolff: Is this the book you were reading on the plane?

-> y/user: Yes, the other one I read at the race track!

laurenroberts: babe! I’m glad you enjoyed! Come to a book signing and I’ll get you a proof of Powerful!

-> y/user: no stop! I’d love that!

DM’s

laurenroberts: Hey Babe, got an event on 29th November, in Florida. You want to come as my special guest?

y/n: id love that! Thank you so much for the invite! I’ll just need to talk to my husband. I’ve never travelled solo and I’m a nervous traveller!

laurenroberts: That’s fine! Just let me know as and when babe!

“Babe, can we talk for a second” you asked your husband as you walk into the kitchen where he is sat with his morning coffee.

"Yes honey what is it?" he asks looking over at you, pushing a glass of orange juice towards you.

"Well, one of the authors that I really like invited me to a book signing.."

"Oh that's amazing sweetheart. Are you going to go?" he says checking his emails not fully paying attention.

"Well, thats the thing. It's over a race weekend... and" you start but his head bolts up to interrupt you.

"You better not be asking for my permission for if you can go, you know you don't have to ask!" he says almost as though he's offended you with think that of him!

"No, no of course not. But I'm scared to go alone, you know how I am!" you explain and he nods remembering the last time you guys flew.

"Well, how about I buy you a nice first class ticket and make the experience worth it. I'll pay for a fancy hotel and a spa evening for when you land ... how does that sound" he grins pulling you into him kissing your forehead.

"You don't have to do that for me!" you exclaim feeling bad!

"Ah no honey, I do this all for you!" he smiles pulling you in for a full kiss.

y/user

Liked by stephaniegarber and ashleyposton

y/n: What do you guys prefer, Romance or Fantasy. I love finding quiet corners at the race track!

Tagged 8 People

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stephaniegarber: Did you enjoy it?

-> y/user: It was so good! I moved straight onto Legend! And Toto brought me OUABH!

ashleyposton: I see those outlines! Thank you for your review on goodreads!

olivia_blake: ahhhh, i hope you enjoy it!

fan1: Y/N is definielty a motorsport romance girlie considering she literally lived one!

->fan2: i forget about this!

"Baby, you have to stop packing so many books!" Toto laughs as he gets out his card to pay the extra bagging expense where your bags had ended up being overweight.

"I'm so so sorry! I didn't realize how many I'd take back with me, American Books are so much more floppy than the ones at home... even though I prefer our covers!" she answers, going to get her card out.

"I'll pay baby don't be silly!" Toto laughs tapping his card as air port staff come over and help you guys take the bags away.

"You are my little book worm aren't you!" he grins pinching your cheeks like an older lady.

"Stop!" you say swatting his hand away.

y/user

Liked by toto.wolff and others

y/n: Toto helped me rebuild my book nook AND took me out for a book haul! It's up on my YouTube now!

Link

Tagged 1 Person

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sarahjmaas: looks amazing!

toto.wolff: I'm happy to help baby!

-> y/user: BEST HUSBAND.

You and Toto had spend the day putting up the swinging chair, and making the room cozy with fairy lights.

He had started to organize your shelves in colour coordination order making a rainbow. You felt so bad when your need to have them in genre and alphabetical order took over.

"Baby, as incredible as this looks, I'm never going to find any books!" you argued and he looks and pulled out Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros.

"See I found you current smutty dragon book!" he smiles handing it to you and your eyes widen at the lingo he was using.

"Have you been... watching my videos?" you ask in shock.

"Mmmm yes honey. i find them very amusing!" he admits and you just stare at him in shock.

y/user

Liked by lewishamilton and toto.wolff

y/n: He looks like this so that I can look like this …

I LOVE MY HUSBAND

Tagged One Person

View all 245 comments

fan1: shes so unserious ... lmao

fan2: and you look fab!

You were thankful that Toto worked as hard as he did, he treated you all the time and you treated him in return.

Your husband was so supportive and was without a doubt the best thing that had ever happened to you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #toto wolff team principal #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #bookstagram

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neuvistar · 9 months ago

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maryse girlie h..how do you think…biker!blade fucks you…

been thinkin’ abt this HARD 4 days nonstop god bless u anon

biker!blade x fem!reader. cw. blowie, cunniligus, use of nicknames, riding, v4ginal fingering, blade referred as “yingxing” twice(?), mentions of smoking n cigarettes. minors dni. (biker blade is my dream ride)

BIKER!BLADE who is willing to fuck you anyway you want him to! you want him to eat you out? his tongue is already lapping at your warmth! you want him to fuck you from behind? he’s already ramming into you from behind tugging at your hair, you went him to finger you? his fingers are already teasing at your clit. it’s best to say that blade is willing to fuck you anytime any-day and any hour, as long as he’s in the mood for it!

BIKER!BLADE who would have you ride him on his lap while you both sat on his newest motorcycle he recently bought, hands squeezing at the fat of your ass.. that stupid coy smirk on his face. “this was your idea. why are you crying, pretty girl? can’t take big dick anymore? thought i stretched out this pussy enough.” god, he’s so annoying sometimes. you could tell he enjoyed taunting you, jerking his hips forward to thrust himself inside your overstimulated cunt, small tears streaming down your face with pure ecstasy you couldn’t explain, not even to the stars. “mm.. so how do you like this new motorcycle?” you wanted to open your mouth to speak, your words immediately got caught in your throat as a whine left instead when he began to pound your pretty pussy, his large hand gently placed on the back of your head.. that stupid smirk on his face. “well? do you like it?” “.. i— fuck.. i do!” “louder, angel. let me hear you.”

BIKER!BLADE would smoke often, it’s like every time you see him.. you always see him puffing up a cigarette. it’s hot to say the least, especially when you suck him off. he took a puff from his cigarette, the entire room smelled like complete bounce that ass a deep woody aroma, a scent that drove you crazy from how strong it was.. but you didn’t care much. blade gazed down on you from above, his cock throbbing in your mouth. cockhead hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. his hands gripped your hair tighter, pulling your head harder against his crotch, putting that damned cigarette near his lips again as he took another puff. your tongue swirled around his member desperately, feeling the veins of his cock brush against your wet muscle. “that’s it, keep going. keep sucking my cock until i’m done with this cigarette.” blade slowly leaned closer, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “.. it’s gonna take awhile. don’t take those eyes off of me, keep that pretty mouth on my cock.”

BIKER!BLADE is willing to try new things with you, especially if it meant fingering you beneath the moonlight at an empty parking lot. his fingers are good, you can’t deny that. he’s obsessed with fingering you, he loves how slick your pussy can get from his fingers alone, hips jerking forward to let you feel how hard he gets, a low yet deep chuckle rumbling from his throat. “what? you can’t take it? remember what i told you, baby.. big girls can take this. your pussy should be used to my fingers by now, c’mon.. show me that you’re a big girl.” curling his fingers within your pussy sent you in absolute shambles, the way he curled them could be enough for you to release all over his digits. the tip of his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. “nngh.. yingxing p-please..” you begged, your body aching for more. “don’t worry, angel.. i won’t stop until you’re screaming my name.” he increased the pace of his fingers, switching between rubbing your cunt and thrusting his fingers inside, his chin on your shoulder as he held you firmly against him.. his hair brushing against your skin.

BIKER!BLADE who would set you down on his motorcycle and eat you out, keeping a soft and firm grip on your hips so you don’t fall! to be honest, i’m sure you’d be afraid of tipping over because of how good he was getting in there. blade couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you, your body.. your skin glistening with sweat and desire. his tongue, the instrument of your delight continued its dance, each flick and lick drawing moans from your lips. be could feel your body tremble, each shudder making him harder, wanting to tease you further. “such a sweet girl you are, huh? letting me eat your pussy while your juices drip right on my motorcycle.” a low chuckle left his throat as he gazed at you, your eyes closed, your face a picture of ecstasy. “y—yingxing.. ‘m gonna fall..” you murmured softly, your body arched like a silent plea for more, and he couldn't resist. he plunged his tongue deep inside you, savoring the taste of your arousal. “oh you’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. just sit there and look pretty for me.”

BIKER!BLADE who would have such good stamina. not only does he have stamina on the roads, he has stamina in the sheets too. “ugh.. fuck this pussy’s good, angel. can’t get enough of it.” his erection was hard and ready, your eyes locking onto him with a hunger that matched his own. blade positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. “again?” you asked, your voice breathy and soft. that same cocky grin that belied his nerves. "always for you, angel. this dick is yours, so take it.”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse answers ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა #blade <33 #haven’t wrote 4 blade in so long god bless #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #blade smut #hsr x reader #blade x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail blade

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charmedreincarnation · 11 months ago

Text

Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.

Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!

A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!

Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.

I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.

So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.

Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.

The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.

Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.

I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.

There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”

Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.

Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.

Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.

During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.

Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.

Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.

As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.

Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.

Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭

Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.

Read this post.

This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes

“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.

And I was successful!

This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.

Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.

Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.

Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.

Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!

I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”

Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.

Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.

And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.

The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.

I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.

Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.

I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭

I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.

But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??

Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)

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#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #my asks

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luxaofhesperides · 9 months ago

Note

Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time.

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash.

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes.

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful.

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on.

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay.

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue.

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases.

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud.

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him. He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it.

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast.

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows.

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest.

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled.

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice.

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk.

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human.

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave.

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety.

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny.

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist.

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow.

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest.

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep.

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy.

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him.

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

#ghostlights #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #prompt fill #my writing #i thought up a whole backstory to the duke/dash kiss (accidental. embarrassing for both parties) but it didnt fit w the rest of the fic so #its not included. i can include it in a rb if u want tho!!#my sleepy boys..... they go thru so much but at the end of the day they always feel at home with each other #childhood friends duke/danny is so important to me #also couldnt think of a coded phrase sorry. now we just have dash walking up to duke like HEY. HELP DANNY. and duke went with it #thanks for the prompt!!

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thezombieprostitute · 8 months ago

Note

Imagine this:

accountant!reader x IT tech!Jensen x manager!Andy x CEO!Lloyd

The intent was to write something short and sweet but smutty. The result is approximately 2200 words with a ton of smut! I blame Lloyd.

Warnings: Power dynamics; Creepy boss; Smut, smut, SMUT! Minors DNI!!!!

“Thank you, Jake,” you half whisper, half moan into his ear. “I really needed this.” You’re not normally one for hookups in the supply closets but you’d had such a stressful day you really needed to let off some steam. Thankfully Jake was always happy to help you out. And he was very good at helping you feel good.

The two of you had a friends-with-benefits situation that had been carefully negotiated and navigated. Sometimes you got the sense that Jake wanted more and that’s why he was so eager to please. But you were both quick to talk if either of you felt things were getting too serious. It definitely made office parties a lot more fun. Everyone else was enjoying the cheap food and you and Jake got to go to a private office and actually take your time together.

You both do try to be careful at the office but your manager, Andy, has been really ramping up the sad sack shtick with all the women in your department, desperate for a date or some feminine attention and pity. You could only take so much, especially when your coworkers pointed out to him that you’re single. Traitors.

Every day he would ask you about your plans. You tried being polite and got nowhere. You finally told him, directly, that you weren’t interested in him last Friday. Today you were called into a meeting with HR about “appropriate workplace behavior”. They told you they’d received complaints from your manager about flirting with him despite him telling you “no”. You smiled tightly and nodded, staying quiet and signing the documents saying you’d been talked to.

You texted Jake on your phone to meet you in the hall closet. One of the things you appreciated? He didn’t ask questions, he just showed up and gave you what you needed. He really seemed to like it when you would repeatedly whisper “thank you’s” into his ear. It’s only a quickie but it definitely helps. You kiss Jake’s cheek and thank him as he blushes. You leave at different times and head back to your respective desks.

You check your email and find yourself looking at an appointment with Lloyd Hansen, the company’s CEO. Thinking it must’ve been in error you hit the “Decline” button and add the most polite note that you can think of. Just a few minutes after you get yet another appointment notice with Mr. Hansen. No explanatory note. You’re extra grateful to Jake because your brain immediately jumps to Andy complaining about you to Mr. Hansen because your HR visit wasn’t enough of a punishment.

The appointment is for tomorrow so you silently stew for the rest of the workday. At home you treat yourself to your favorite meal and shows. Your sleep is full of stressful dreams and you wake up more exhausted than when you went to bed. Not wanting to look like a mess in front of Mr. Hansen, you make sure to take extra care of your makeup and clothing choices. Working as hard as your caffeine deprived can to balance “I’m okay” with “I’m not trying to flirt with anyone”. It’s never an easy task.

As you log on to your computer you smell Andy’s cologne and internally wince. You turn to face him, “yes, Mr. Barber?”

“Easy there, tiger,” he chastised. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay after that HR meeting.”

Gritting your teeth you reply, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well I know a lot of people can have a kind of whiplash when they realize their behavior isn’t acceptable,” he explains in an obviously condescending tone. “I’ll understand if you want to take some vacation time.”

“Mr. Barber,” you seethe, “I think what would help me the most is keeping some distance between us at all times in the office.”

“Okay,” he scoffs. “Just remember who it is that HR listens to.” He walks away and you find yourself trying to not throw or break something.

As soon as you can you head straight to Mr. Hansen’s office. His secretary lets you in, though he is not yet in. You should probably be upset that he’s late for the meeting he insisted on having with you but it’s better than sitting in your cubicle waiting for Andy to strike.

The quiet is broken by Mr. Hansen storming into the office, yelling at someone on the phone. You recognize him immediately if only because of the mustache. “And I told you to handle it, Six! Get your head out of your ass and fix it!” He lets out a small huff as he listens to the person on the phone. “I don’t give a shit. It should’ve been handled weeks ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” He hangs up without waiting for a response and turns to you with a smile that makes you feel like prey caught in a trap.

“So you’re the girl Barber was complaining out,” he starts. You’re unable to hold back your grimace and he laughs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit about that cuck.” You tilt your head in confusion. “See, he tried to play up the whole “women don’t know how to take a compliment” thing but I was able to see through him. He’s pathetic and you weren’t having it. Even flat out told him, “no”. That’s something I respect. Not everyone would do that to their boss.”

He sits down in his chair and continues, “so I started looking into you and imagine my surprise when I find out you and Jensen are hooking up!” Your eyes widen in shock and you start stammering before he holds out a hand, gesturing for you to stop. “You’re not in trouble for that. Hell if I could get laid instead of attending those lame work parties I absolutely would. Which is why I brought you here.”

He leans his elbows on the desk, “I want in on whatever fuck-buddy deal you and Jensen got going on.”

“S..sir, I,” you’re at a loss for words.

“Tell you what,” he slaps the desk and stands up, “I’ll make it easy for you. Either you agree to be my own fuck-buddy, occasionally still get some good stuff from Jensen, or I’ll make you Barber’s personal secretary.”

“What if I quit instead?”

“Then I’ll go ahead and fire Jensen,” he quips. “It would be a damn shame, though. Jakey is one of the best IT guys we got. Likely up for a promotion that would get him a private office.”

“Can I talk to Jake first,” you plead. “It is part of our arrangement that we communicate changes before they’re implemented.”

“You know what, sure. I can respect that a deal is a deal.” He goes to the phone on his desk and tells his secretary to send Jake up.

When Jake does arrive he’s shocked to see you. At Lloyd’s gesture he closes the door behind him. Lloyd doesn’t let you speak and lays everything out for him like he did you.

Jake looks at you, “it’s…umm…I appreciate you looking out for me and my job,” he starts. “But it’s also your body and I would never want you to accept something like this just for me.”

“You know, Jakey here has a point,” Lloyd interjects. “You really don’t know what you’re in for with me. How about a demonstration? I’ll even let Jake join in to help keep you comfortable.”

Knowing that you were being watched shouldn’t excite you so much. The fact that both of these men wanted you was making you wet. You straddle Jake in his chair and start making out with him while taking off your clothes and grinding your hips against his crotch.

Jake moans as he takes off your bra with practiced ease, “you’re sure about this?”

“Feel how wet I am, Jake.” He obliges and sticks his fingers inside your panties. He rubs your clit and you arch your breasts into his face as his eyes widen at the wetness he finds there.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He gets a dark glint in his eye that you don’t entirely recognize. He removes his hand and starts to unbutton your pants. “You gotta taste her, Mr. Hansen. Sweetest pussy and it’s already drenched.”

You hadn’t realized Lloyd was standing behind you until he grabbed your breasts, lifting you a little as he nibbled your neck. He pulls you off of Jake and the two of them finish undressing you before setting you on Lloyd’s desk. You’re on your back, your head hanging over one side, your legs spread wide for the both of them.

Lloyd doesn’t hesitate and dives tongue first into your pussy. Your reaction is immediate as he uses his mustache to tickle your clit. You throw your head back and moan before you’re able to stifle it.

He pulls away from you, “don’t worry about noise, sweetheart. My secretary is gone for the afternoon and no one else would dare be on this floor.” He turns to Jake, “you were right! This is a damn tasty snack.” He gets back to it and you don’t hold back your sounds. It was such a relief to get to be as loud as you wanted.

“Fuck, I love those sounds,” Jake groans.

You reach out to him, “your cock, Jake? Please, can I stroke your cock?”

“Love those sounds, too,” he grins as he undoes his belt. You look to Lloyd to see if he has any objections but he’s too focused on licking up all of your juices. Jake is already half hard and your hands know just how to get him fully erect. His hands start playing with your tits, gently pinching, pulling and fondling.

The two of them quickly bring you to the brink of orgasm, then Lloyd sticks two of his fingers inside you and it pushes you over the edge. You cum loudly and Lloyd keeps scissoring his fingers while sucking on your clit, enjoying the show. When the aftershocks fade, he removes his hand and backs away just a little.

“Jensen, you take her mouth,” he orders. “I’m gonna make a mess of this pussy and I want to hear her choking on your cock while I do.”

You let go of Jake’s erection and he starts pushing himself into your mouth, grunting and moaning as he does so. He’s careful with you, like always, and places your hand on his thigh so you can signal if it gets too much.

Lloyd, however, lines himself up with your opening and quickly thrusts himself fully inside. If your mouth wasn’t so full of Jake’s cock, you’d likely have screamed. They fucked both of your holes with abandon and you were loving every second of it. Occasionally Jake would ask for a status and you’d tap his thigh twice for “all good”.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Lloyd admitted. “This pussy is so fucking tight. I see why you risked your job for her.” He started rubbing your clit and you careened towards another orgasm. As soon as Jake came in your mouth you were done for. You tightened your legs around Lloyd as you came hard and swallowed all of Jake’s spend. You heard Lloyd mumbling, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” before he came with a yell.

You’re still in a daze as both men pull out of you. Lloyd whistles, “now that’s a pretty picture. What say we get you cleaned up?”

“What the fuck?!” A voice from the office door crashes your post-orgasm euphoria. You look up and see Andy, standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Barber,” Lloyd says as he zips his pants back up. “Right on time.”

“What?!” Jake exclaims as you look, wide-eyed, at Lloyd.

“You see, Andy,” he walks over to your manager and claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a complete cuck and we both know it.” Andy tries to protest but Lloyd cuts him off. “This is the closest you’re ever going to get to some pussy. Now be a good boy and clean up the mess I made.” He throws Andy to his knees in front of your spread pussy.

Andy groans at the sight and you feel a stir of courage. “Well,” you scold. “Are you going to be a good boy and do as you're told or am I going to have to clean myself up?” His eyes darken but you don’t back down. He dives into your cum filled pussy and starts cleaning you up.

“Good boy,” Lloyd smirks. “Probably the only way you can actually please a woman.” He looks at Jake, “whenever you’re done with her, call her cuck over to clean up. Sound good?”

Jake looks to you and sees you writhing with pleasure, “I think so.”

Part 1.5

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

#jake jensen x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber x reader #jake jensen smut #lloyd hansen smut #andy barber smut #boss!andy barber #ceo!lloyd hansen #fwb!jake jensen

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supernovafics · 30 days ago

Text

series masterlist | last part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, a tiny hint of angst(?), smut (18+), unprotected piv sex

summary: the last morning of your summer trip with steve

EPILOGUE | ❝𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔❞

There was no one on the beach except for you.

You were alone, but it didn’t feel lonely. The quietness was soothing; you only heard the sounds of the waves crashing, but even that was pretty soft.

It was warm but comfortably so, and you walked along the shore for a bit before settling on a blanket. You let out a contented sigh as you simply looked out at the ocean, focusing on the blue water and the—

It was the sun that woke you up. Pouring through the window right next to your and Steve’s bed because you two had forgotten to close the curtains last night.

The bright morning sun shining almost too perfectly in your eyes surprisingly didn’t even annoy you because you could feel the smallest smile on your face as you remembered your dream. And that immediately surprised you because you usually never remembered dreams that were so calm and simple like that one.

You pulled the blanket over your head to block out the sun because you couldn’t bear to get up and close the curtains but you wanted to try and go back to sleep. The abrupt action must have woken Steve up because you felt him shift behind you and drape an arm around your waist.

“Sorry for waking you,” You whispered as you instinctively leaned into his touch. The feel of his warm hand almost mindlessly slipping beneath your t-shirt and touching your bare skin made you sigh softly. “How are you always so warm?”

“Don’t know,” He whispered back. “You want me to close the curtains?”

“No, it’s okay,” You told him, finding his hand and lacing it with yours. Things got quiet for a moment, and then you were pulling the blanket off of your head and shifting around to face him. “Hey, guess what.”

His eyes opened then and he gave you a curious look. “What?”

“I finally had a normal dream that I actually remember.”

He smiled at your words and was quickly reminded of your joking promise to tell him whenever you had normal dreams that you remembered. “Mm, tell me everything.”

“Okay, I was alone on a beach and laying on a blanket and it was really nice,” You quickly explained. “Very simple.”

Steve nodded. “That is normal.”

“I know, I’m just like you now,” You told him and pressed a quick kiss against his nose. “Do you remember what you were just dreaming about?”

“I was having a really good dream, actually,” He answered, shifting closer to you and it was then that you felt his hard length poking at your thigh.

“Oh?” You said, pressing the softest kiss against his neck and then pulling back to meet his eyes. “Tell me everything.”

“You were there.” He kissed your forehead. “And I was there. And we were back at the hotel we stayed at in Venice.”

“Oh, I loved that place,” You jumped in, smiling. You two had lied and said that you were on your honeymoon and the front desk worker bumped you up to the newlywed suite; that was probably the best week of the trip. “Definitely my favorite place we stayed at.”

“Mine too,” Steve nodded in agreement. “So, in the dream, we were on the balcony and it was the middle of the night. I don’t know what the occasion was, but fireworks were happening in the distance. Oh, and you were all over me. Honestly, it was pretty similar to this moment.”

You had just pushed your left hand under his t-shirt and started exploring pretty much everywhere.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playfully said words. “Wow, dream me is so accurate to real me.”

“Very much so,” Steve said, finally leaning in to kiss you and then mumbling his next words against your mouth. “And then, in the dream, you begged me to fuck you against the railing of the balcony, so I did.”

His words sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine as you gasped into the kiss.

“Fuck, why didn’t we actually do that when we were there?” You asked when you pulled back and Steve’s mouth immediately found the underside of your jaw.

“We should’ve,” He responded. His hand on your waist was suddenly pulling you even closer to him and you could feel his hard length pressing right against your underwear.

“Ah,” You moaned louder than intended. You wanted to say actual sentences and keep the banter going and prolong this moment for as long as possible, but your mind was quickly turning into mush. “I need you, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t hard to hear the smirk in his voice.

You nodded quickly, eyes opening again and meeting his gaze. “Please.”

You could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and practically dripping down your thigh at this point.

“I need you inside of me,” You whispered, mouth right against his ear and he could only groan in response as he buried his face in your neck.

You made quick work of slipping your underwear down your legs and Steve did the same with his boxers and then he hooked your leg over his hip.

That was when the curtain should’ve been closed, but still, neither of you could bother to get up. Instead, he didn’t waste a second to slip inside of you, filling you completely and both of your moans took over the quietness within the room.

You were reminded of other instances where something similar to this had happened before— him waking you with the softest kiss against your neck at a tiny hotel in Amsterdam and it leading to a moment like this, or you pressing kisses against his freckled shoulders and back, and that action also leading to you being on top of him minutes later, and you both learned just how thin the walls were at a bed and breakfast in a small town in Spain.

Sometimes the sex was quick and rushed and other times you two acted like you had all the time in the world, which you kind of did, in most cases.

This moment technically did have a set time limit because you two had to head to the airport sooner rather than later for your twelve o’clock flight back home, but everything was still slow and languid. You both were hitting your peaks fast, though, and you figured it was the pent-up neediness from what you two had been too exhausted to do last night since most of the day and night had been spent doing last-second touristy things in Paris.

“I love you,” You had said to him when you two were sitting on a park bench close to the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t the first time you said it to him or the first time he immediately said it back but it still always felt just as special.

And you were saying it in this moment too; muttering it over and over like it was a prayer. Your hands landed in his hair at some point, finding home in his messy brown locks that you were making even messier with your soft tugs and pulls.

Steve’s hand found your hip so he could push his cock deeper inside of you with every slow thrust, and that action pushed you over the edge faster than you had expected. Your eyes squeezed shut and you buried your face into his neck as you came, clenching around his cock, which beckoned his own release seconds later.

“I love you so much,” He whispered as he spilled inside of you and you could only moan in response, still unable to form coherent sentences.

Things became quiet and Steve’s arms circled around you entirely, hands pushing under your t-shirt that you were now realizing was actually his, and you returned the embrace immediately, letting out a soft hum into his neck as he started mindlessly tracing circles against your back.

A lot of the time, this was your favorite part— the after. Steve still inside of you and bodies still entangled as your breathings steadied and heart rates returned to normal.

These were the moments where you talked about everything and nothing and cooked up stupid little fantasies and dreams for the future that actually didn’t feel entirely stupid. It was in a post-sex pillow talk haze like this one where you learned about the kind of family Steve wanted later in life— a bunch of kids, a nice house, a dog or a cat or both. A family that actually felt like a family.

It was the sweetest thing you had ever heard, and it somehow entirely made sense for him. You told him that you had hated being an only child growing up so you loved the thought of actually having something like that down the road too. You even shyly admitted that it had never felt possible before; you had never been able to see that with anyone else, but with him you did.

It was more often than not that you found yourself yearning for that kind of life with him— whenever his arms circled around you from behind and he pressed a kiss against your cheek or whenever he laughed extra hard at a joke you made that wasn’t even all that funny or whenever he told you something that he had never told anyone else before.

In a way, it felt so silly and even a little stupid to think so far ahead and long for something that would be years and years down the road because you two hadn’t even been together for six months yet, you were barely pushing three.

There were a thousand things that could go wrong, and probably would go wrong, between now and then, but even that slightly cynical thought didn’t change how you felt in the moment.

You loved Steve. You were in love with him. Every silly thought or random musing you had, you always immediately wanted to tell it to him and you always did, no matter how ridiculous it was, because you knew how much he loved hearing all the random thoughts swirling through your head. You knew how much he loved you.

“We should’ve bought that Big Ben picture frame that that guy tried to sell us in London,” You said to Steve now.

He let out a quiet laugh. “It’s been over a month. Why are you thinking about that now?”

You pulled back from his neck so that you could meet his eyes. “I was just thinking about the picture that the sweet old lady took of us on the bridge last night, and how it’s really good and I think I wanna frame it.”

“You want to put a picture of us in Paris in a Big Ben frame?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, that doesn’t really make sense. We need to get a frame from here then.”

“There will probably be one in the airport.”

The mention of the airport finally made some logical thinking sink in on your side of things.

As if reading your mind and sensing where it was going, Steve quickly shook his head. “No, no, forget I mentioned the airport.”

“I should check the time,” You said, bypassing his previous words, and you started to shift so that you could turn and grab your phone off the nightstand. But, Steve’s arms only tightened around you, not letting you out of his embrace to grab your phone, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Steve.”

He didn’t say anything in response, not even when you playfully poked his side. Instead, he simply kept holding you.

“If we miss our flight, I can’t promise that Robin won’t murder you,” You said, trying to make your voice sound as serious as possible.

“Good point,” He mumbled against your neck and finally loosened his hold. You shifted around then and reached for your phone.

“It’s only eight,” You told him and then smiled at one of the notifications you saw taking over your screen. “And our flight’s delayed. It leaves at two instead of twelve now.”

You smiled wider when you placed your phone on the nightstand again and turned back to see Steve also smiling at you.

“Perfect,” He said as he pulled you back into his arms.

You leaned into the embrace, returning it immediately and letting your eyes slip shut as your head fell against his chest. You decided against saying anything about how you two still had a ton of packing to do or mentioning that the thought of having one last Parisian croissant for breakfast sounded pretty nice to you. Instead, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being close to Steve. It was a position that you two had been in what felt like a thousand times at this point, but it never got old to you, and you had a feeling it never would.

It was finally hitting you in this moment that the summer was coming to its end, and a sort of bittersweet feeling washed over you because of that realization. You already knew that you were going to miss all of this— lazy mornings in bed with your boyfriend, random and abrupt adventures in small towns that neither of you had heard of before, spending all of this uninterrupted time with him, etc. But, you also knew that it was really only just the beginning for you two, and you were excited to spend countless nights at his apartment; in his living room that finally had curtains. And you also couldn’t wait to force him to come over to your place for game nights and movie nights and whatever else was happening in the small shared apartment.

“I’m really glad that I met you,” You abruptly told him, the thought of the future was making you feel extra sentimental in this moment. “And that I know you, and that we’re together and here right now. I can’t imagine this being any different.”

“Really?” He asked softly, and you understood what he meant by the one-word question. Months ago, your mind had been in an entirely different place, and the reason that you had even met Steve at all was because your head had been in that completely different place.

However, the shift and change were easy, and your feelings for Steve felt different from everything else; they were something that you couldn’t bury down or push away when you accepted them. They felt so fucking right and that never changed.

“Really, really,” You lifted your head from his chest to meet his eyes. “I promise. Nothing’s ever felt like this.”

Steve nodded and was still speaking softly as he agreed and repeated your words, “Nothing’s ever felt like this.” When he smiled at you, it was probably the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. “I love you.”

You couldn’t help but shyly look away from him then, your own smile tugging at your lips. You put your head back on his chest and found his hand beneath the blanket to give it a light squeeze. “I love you too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

a/n: holy shit i cant believe this series is finally done !!!! i’m genuinely gonna miss writing this but i’m also so happy that it’s completed (veryvery bittersweet). this is the longest and most ambitious thing i’ve ever written on here and i’m super happy with how it at all turned out. thanks to everyone who enjoyed and came back to read this every week. yall are the best<3333 okay let me shut up and stop rambling now! thank you again! bye!!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff , @lilacccs , @thehairington86 , @welcometohellsock , @dreamerjj , @newyorkangelbaby

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff

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evervigilantnightshade · 19 days ago

Text

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

MASTERLIST

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps.

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls.

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school.

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious.

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.”

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?”

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?”

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.”

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice.

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers.

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile.

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter.

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base.

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for.

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of.

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission.

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat.

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all.

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment.

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.”

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses.

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.”

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him.

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him.

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.”

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying.

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips.

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated.

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards.

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello.

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer.

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted.

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.”

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?”

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled.

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl.

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself.

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter.

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate.

Price went over and sat at the picnic table.

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances.

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend.

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them.

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her.

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.”

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over.

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.”

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm.

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck.

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up.

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked.

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.”

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile.

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back.

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face.

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.”

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder.

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly.

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.”

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?”

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?”

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment.

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk.

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?”

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh.

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious. “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously.

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying.

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate.

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed.

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands.

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try.

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time.

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate.

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?”

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.”

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!”

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers.

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was.

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance.

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly.

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!”

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged.

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?”

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.”

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen.

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad.

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.”

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list”

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?”

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.”

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?”

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her.

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.”

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up.

“Sorry, that was too…” He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back.

“Don’t you dare.”

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.”

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it.

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward.

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name.

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes.

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused.

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around.

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly

“Dishes” Price added behind her.

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story.

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.”

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.”

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard.

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?”

“NO!” Y/N and Price said in unison.

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside.

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down.

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling.

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded.

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?”

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.”

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go.

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself.

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.”

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was.

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly.

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.”

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied.

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

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

#COD #captain john price #john price #task force 141 #john price x y/n #captain john price x reader #john price angst #john price pining #captain john price angst #john price slow burn

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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago

Text

Feeling You

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons

a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪

summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 13 mins 10 seconds

The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.

“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”

You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?

“I’m glad to see your up.”

You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.

“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.

“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”

“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.

“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.

You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.

“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”

‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.

“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”

A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.

“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”

He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.

He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”

A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.

“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”

You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”

“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”

He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”

You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”

“Your with him.”

Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.

The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.

“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.

“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication.

“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.

You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.

As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.

“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”

Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?

“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word.

Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort.

James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife.

James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see.

“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…”

He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck.

After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun.

You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice.

When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open.

After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you.

“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,”

You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you.

His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear.

Joel’s body stiffened.

“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”

Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”

“Go,” you trembled.

Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice.

As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,”

He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.

“I…”

His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival.

Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you.

You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.

Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today.

A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst.

“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours.

“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart.

“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”

“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up.

“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night.

Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward.

The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town.

Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong.

“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly.

“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow.

“I just need some time, Joel.”

“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.”

You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire.

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.

“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”

His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?

Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.”

The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah.

“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.”

The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.

Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder.

“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying.

Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape.

Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid.

“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.”

A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.

You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture.

Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you.

Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was.

Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago

Text

Just Friends, Chapter Two:

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (mentions of sex/masturbation but no real smut until next chapter, pining, infidelity, angst if you look hard enough, joel is a lover boy)

wc: 4.1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Baby.”

You wake to the sound of your boyfriend behind you, pressing himself against you as he burrows his face in your neck, his lips on your skin.

Maybe if you hadn’t just been rudely awakened from a dream involving a different man you would be more interested, but you aren’t. Groaning, you shake your head and burrow your face further into your pillow.

“C’mon, baby,” Will continues, his hand rubbing over your hip. “I’m hurting over here.”

“That’s not my job,” you mumble. He scoffs just like he always does when you deny him, and you want to feel bad but don’t.

“Gonna go take a shower then,” he says, climbing out of bed. You watch him as he mopes into the en-suite, wondering what it is about him that prevents you from loving him like you probably should by now. After all, it hadn’t always been this way.

You met him shortly before you arrived to Jackson, his group consisting of him, his little brother, Alex, and your closest friend, Josie. They offered you a family, and eventually, you and Will fell in love.

It was quick. You hardly know exactly when it began, but once it started, you were locked in.

You liked his smile, his sense of humor. He was like a best friend—in a lot of ways he was your best friend—and it was easy. He was charming, and kind, and in love with you. There wasn’t much more to want.

Until there was.

You were standing with Will when Joel and Ellie rode into town with the rangers. You’ll never forget his booming voice as he called out for Tommy Miller or the hug they shared. You watched them as they held each other, moved to tears by the love there—though when Will teased you about it you insisted it was from the chill breeze.

When you saw him later on at the dining hall, you felt a heat creep into your cheeks as you realized that greying mess of hair on his head had fooled you. He wasn’t old, he was…mature. He had lines in his forehead and beneath his eyes, but he carried a youth to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was his eyes.

Those big, brown eyes.

Your breath hitched when he spotted you across the room with your empty plate in your hand, hovered over the trash can. He looked annoyed at first but you quickly realized he was just on edge. Then just as quickly as he looks at you, he looks away and stabs his fork into a piece of meat.

You didn’t see him for a while after that. Not until this spring when he and Ellie returned from their “trip”. You knew almost immediately why things had fizzled with Will. It wasn’t anything he was doing, it was simply the fact that he didn’t stir anything in you anymore. Not the way the quiet and mysterious Joel Miller did.

As Will showers, you get out of bed and begin getting ready for your own workday. You didn’t have the stomach for patrol, so you found work in the mornings at the greenhouse harvesting and at the general store in the afternoon, allowing you some much appreciated time away from Will everyday.

You dress for the August weather, Jackson’s northern climate keeping the summers under 85 degrees. Throwing on a pair of shorts, a white tank top, and your favorite pair of boots—a product of your assimilation to Jackson—you sneak into the en-suite where Will is still showering to quickly brush your teeth and mumble a goodbye before heading out of the house.

The summer is fading, you can feel it in the chill of the morning as your boots crunch against the paved dirt road leading from your street to the center of town. You can already feel the loss of warmth in your bones, the isolation of another Jackson autumn slowly creeping in again even as the sun shines on you.

How many falls have you made it through? How many of them clawed you to shreds inside? It was hard to remember how you managed to pull yourself out of it before, but you were certain that somehow, you’d manage it again.

“Happy birthday.” Joel’s voice is distinct and makes you turn around as soon as you hear it. You manage a smile, softer and more fragile than your usual one, but it’s enough to bring one to Joel’s face as well. “Headin’ to work?”

“Thank you, and yeah,” you nod, stopping to wait for him as he hurries to meet you.

“You at the store or the greenhouse?” he asks, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you continue on.

“Greenhouse until twelve, store until five,” you reply, a more sincere smile finding its way onto your face as the two of you walk together like old friends. “You going on patrol?”

“No, just goin’ to help Tommy at his place. He’s tryin’ to build a crib for the baby.” You nod, concealing your own feelings about having children in the middle of an apocalypse. “What time should I show up to your party tonight?”

You grin, looking ahead of you as two men you knew by face but not by name carry a wooden beam across the road. “You can show up whenever,” you say, nudging his elbow with yours. “You’re always welcome to come help me set up.”

Joel laughs and nods.

“Always a catch, ain’t there?” He smiles at you in a way that he never had before and you struggle to decode the hidden meaning of it. “That boyfriend of yours ain’t gonna be around to help?”

“He’s got patrol until six and that’s when I was hoping to start everything,” you explain. “Don’t want people at my house all night.”

“No?” You shake your head. “Like your quiet too much?”

“It’s my favorite thing,” you reply. “Yours too, I’ve noticed. Aside from the occasional Merle Haggard record you play.”

“What do you know about Merle Haggard?” he asks with a smirk.

“I know a little about a lot of stuff, Miller.” You bump into him unintentionally, or maybe not. Joel chuckles at you and then let’s out a long exhale as the two of you arrive at Tommy’s house. “Well, this is your stop.”

“Yep,” he agrees, shuffling his feet as he stands there, making you wait in anticipation for whatever he’s struggling to say. “Should I, uh, should I get dressed up for this party?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” you flirt against your better judgment, delighting in the flush that creeps onto his face. Reaching your hand over, you pat his arm before returning it to your back pocket. “Wear whatever. Just come.”

Joel seems to be speechless as he stares at you, his lips parted to speak but nothing coming out.

“Well,” you let a quick shaky breath escape. “Guess I should be going.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’ll see ya around five, then? Since I’m helpin’ you set up.”

“Oh, that was just a joke. I can handle it—“

“No,” he shakes his head and smiles. “I’ll be there.”

You smile down at your feet before lifting your head again.

“Cool. See ya there, then.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head before pointing at the house.

“Well—“

“Hey, y’all,” Tommy emerges from his front door and waves at you from his porch. “You helpin’ too?”

“No,” Joel answers for you. “It’s her birthday. She shouldn’t have to spend it workin’. Should give her the day off.”

“Joel,” you chuckle, amused by his attempt at helping you into a day off.

“No, he’s right. Go home and relax,” Tommy says, smiling at you.

“You sure?” you ask.

“Long as I get an invitation to this party you’re throwin’ tonight.”

You laugh and nod. “Of course. Bring Maria too if she feels up to it.”

“Sounds good,” he nods before turning to Joel. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Alright,” Joel says. You watch Tommy head back inside before turning to Joel.

“You didn’t—“

“Hush,” he says, smirking at you. “So, how are you gonna spend your day now that you’re freed up?”

Thinking about you.

“Probably just catch up on some reading. Maybe go work on my garden.”

“Well, take it easy,” he says. “Don’t wanna tire yourself out before your party.”

“How can I be tired when I’m so excited to see you all dressed up for me?” you say, smirking at the blush that returns.

“Go home,” he says playfully.

“Alright, I’ll stop keeping you from your hard work.” Joel laughs and nods.

“Yeah, my hard work.”

Sucking in a breath, you turn to head back in the direction you’d come from, but Joel’s voice stops you before you get too far.

“Hey, if I’m gettin’ dressed up for you, you gonna dress up for me?”

You felt like you hallucinated the question, but when you turned to look at him, he was smiling, waiting for you answer.

“Of course, Joel,” you grin. “Just for you.”

He can’t get you out of his head as he sands the finished crib out in Tommy’s backyard, his brother rambling on about some carpentry class he’s starting for the town. He thinks about your smile, the unmistakable flirting that occurred earlier this morning. If he were a more confident man, he’d feel secure in knowing that whatever crush he had on you was reciprocated, but he knows it wouldn’t change anything.

“So?” Tommy asks, pulling Joel into the present.

“So what?” he says, wiping his brow.

“So will you teach a few classes?” Tommy asks, as though it wasn’t the first time he’d made the request. Joel sighs and shrugs. “It’ll keep you off patrol a couple days a week.”

“Should’a started with that.”

Tommy laughs at his brother and shakes his head.

“So what’s goin’ on with you two,” he asks and Joel gives him a warning look. “Look, way I see it, who else you gonna talk about it with?”

Joel sighs. Tommy’s right, Joel has no one else. Ellie is too young to confide in about this sort of thing, Maria still isn’t a big fan, and his only other friend in town is you.

“Nothin’s goin’ on,” he manages, setting the sander in his hand down so that he could take a swig of his beer. “Just like her is all.”

“She seems to like you too,” he says. “For whatever reason.”

Joel shoots his brother an unimpressed look, earning a chuckle.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Joel explains. “A boyfriend her own age.”

“You ain’t a thirty-five year old, that’s for sure, but you ain’t too shabby. Plenty of women have tried to talk me and Maria into hookin’ them up with ya.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “Heart wants what it wants and all. Hand me the stain.”

Tommy obeys the command and grabs the wood stain on the table beside him before walking it over to his brother.

“What’s it about her? Besides the fact that she’s good lookin’?” he asks, unable to help himself. Joel successfully fights the smile trying to creep onto his face at the thought of you, choosing to shrug nonchalantly instead.

“She’s nice to people,” he says. “She’s smart. Quick. Got a good sense of humor. I don’t know.”

“She’s with—“

“I forget his name,” Joel sighs. “Will, I think. He’s a ranger.”

“Right, the one she came in with,” Tommy nods. “Not a bad lookin’ guy. He’s a good guy, too.” Joel gives him a flat glare. “Just bein’ honest.”

“Thank you for that,” Joel snarks.

“She happy with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does she look happy?”

“Enough that it doesn’t make sense dwellin’ on it,” he replies sharply, becoming agitated by the onslaught of question.

“Touchy,” Tommy teases with a grin. “I don’t know. Way she was lookin’ at you…makes me think maybe you got a chance.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles quietly enough to miss it. “Maybe.”

It only took about five orgasms to get him out of your mind, or as much out of your mind as Joel could get. You tried to imagine him standing at the foot of your bed, watching you as you touched yourself to the thought of him and him only. You tried to imagine him kneeling onto the mattress and crawling up until his face was between your thighs. You imagined his tongue, the way it would feel working over you instead of your fingers. In your head, he eats you like he’s been starved.

Has he? Has no one in town managed to work their way into his bed yet?

There were plenty of decent looking women in Jackson, especially by apocalypse standards where beauty isn’t as narrowly defined as it was before everything happened—something good that came from the world’s demise.

You close your legs at the thought of Joel with another woman, your sixth attempt at an orgasm ruined by your jealousy. Jealousy you had no right to feel, not when you had someone. Not when he had no one.

It’s four o’clock now. You’re dressed in the same outfit that you left the house in as you chop up some fruit and veggies for the party. Will is supposed to be doing the grilling when he gets home, but you’re not holding your breath on that.

Three knocks sound on your door as you place the fruit and veggies in the fridge. Your stomach fills with giddy anxiety at the thought of Joel on the other side of the door. With a breath of calm, you rush over to the door and open it, finding Joel and Ellie standing there, dressed as best as they could be dressed given the state of the world.

“Hey,” you greet them with a chirp, your eyes moving from Ellie’s sly smirk to Joel’s more nervous one. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I just figured…wasn’t doin’ anything else. Might as well come help,” he shrugs before moving to open Ellie’s backpack as she wears it. “I, uh—we got you some gifts.”

You tell your smile to relax as he pulls a butcher paper covered rectangle from the bag first and then a bottle of whiskey.

“Somethin’ to read and somethin’ to drink,” he says as he hands over the gifts. You can’t hold back your grin any longer as you hold these tokens of friendship in your hand. It had been so long since someone gave you a gift on your birthday, it almost felt foreign.

Looking back up at him with wet eyes, you pout your bottom lip out in a touched smile. “You didn’t have to get me anything, but…thank you. Really, guys. This is very sweet.”

“I had nothing to do with it but I’ll gladly slap my name on it for Joel’s sake,” Ellie says, earning a playful elbow from her guardian.

With a laugh, you gesture inside of your home. “Come in. Make yourselves at home.”

“Is it okay if I do my homework in here before I come help?” Ellie asks as you pass by your living room.

“Go for it,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact that in a world where education has lost its value, Ellie is putting her homework first. Or perhaps she just didn’t want to be around you and Joel and this back and forth you two continued to play.

Joel waits in the kitchen as you fill a glass of water and deliver it to Ellie before returning with a nervous smile.

“So,” you say, finding him leaning back against the counter. His hair is still wet from a shower, and the thought of him naked and wet makes it hard to look directly at him.

“So,” he repeats. “How’d you spend your birthday?”

You try to hide the way embarrassment creeps into your eyes as you think up a way to avoid the truth.

“Just laid in bed,” you answer, not missing the way his brows twitch upwards in interest. “What about you? The crib come out okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Just waitin’ on the stain to dry.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence as the two of you stand there, eyes locked on the floor rather than on each other until you both attempt to break the silence at the same time.

“So what do you need—“

“I guess we should start—“

You chuckle and Joel smiles before gesturing to you.

“I guess we can start setting up those tables I borrowed from the dining hall,” you say. Joel nods and follows you out back through the sliding glass door, his presence warm and inviting behind you. “They over in the shed if you wanna get to work on them while I clean off the grill?”

“Sure thing,” he says before obeying your command.

Having him here with you, helping you, existing with you, is intoxicating to the point of danger. You want him so bad that it makes you question your morality. You yearn for this to be everyday, to have him in the backyard with you, moving around you as the two of you handle your tasks in comfortable silence, but you know that he can’t.

He can’t because you already have someone you’re supposed to enjoy these things with, but you don’t. Will is too quick, too talkative, too…

You run out of reasons to not want him as much as you do.

Joel finds himself inside of your shed, his hands running over his face as he uses this moment of reprieve to reel himself back in.

He felt dizzy being here in your space, your house smelling exactly like you do. Like a real home.

He’s glad he brought Ellie along, otherwise he might’ve made of fool of himself by dropping to his knees and begging you to leave that boy you called a partner. He still nearly did when you accepted his gift with teary eyes. Before that moment, he was convinced the only tears he was capable of causing were ones of hurt, ones of pain. There was no pain in your eyes when you looked at him.

“You okay in here?” you ask, sneaking up behind him and standing in the doorway of the shed. Joel chuckled to cover up his startle and nods. You give him a suspicious smile and nod back before pointing behind him at the grill. “Will was supposed to have taken it out last night but I guess he didn’t.”

Joel shakes his head in disapproval. “Boys.”

“Aren’t you a boy?” you tease, tilting your head as the words spill out like warm honey. Joel shakes his head and you smirk. “No, you’re a man, Joel.”

Joel struggles to find his words as you walk in and brush past him to wheel out the grill, lightly swatting his hands as he attempts to take over.

“You might be a man, Joel. But I’m a woman,” you smirk. “A capable woman.”

“That you are,” he agrees, low and husky.

The party is over now, your guests all filtered out aside from Joel and Ellie. Will never made an appearance, leaving Josie to explain that he got goaded into working a shift at the bar tonight, and just like Will, he couldn’t say no. His absence hurt more than you thought it would, forcing you into silence as you stood at the sink washing the dishes while Joel dries them.

“He should’a showed,” Joel says after the silence becomes too much. You purse your lips into a sad smile and shrug as you look at him.

“It was just a silly party,” you argue for your own sake.

“No,” he shakes his head. “It was your party. He’s supposed to be here for shit like that.”

“Yeah, well—“ You remember something you were supposed to do as Will’s girlfriend that you didn’t this morning. “He’s probably still mad that I didn't give him any this morning.”

You can feel Joel tense at the subject.

“Sorry,” you say, realizing that while the two of you were good friends, you’d never spoken about sex before, even vaguely. “Too much information.”

“No, I just…” He seems to search for the right words as he wipes a plate clean. “Just think it ain’t okay to pout over somethin’ like that. ‘Specially when you probably gave him some action the night before.”

You give him a guilty look that makes him smile.

“No?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Haven’t in a while,” you say. “Just…haven’t been in the mood, I guess.”

Joel nods and looks away from you. You yearn to tell him why you haven’t been in the mood for your boyfriend in a while, but the possibility for rejection stops you.

“Any reason?” he asks after a beat, forcing your ears to heat.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “Just…drifting apart, I guess.”

“Why don’t you end it?” You turn to him and find he’s already looking at you, his eyes flickering to your lips before locking on yours again.

“Scared,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“Of what?” he asks, matching your volume.

You look at him helplessly, as if he should know about the war going on in your head and in your heart. As if he should know that him being this close, his arm brushing against yours as he dries your dishes, makes you feel like you’re on fire from the inside out.

“Of not…having someone,” you manage. “Of being alone again.”

“You ain’t—“ He pauses, closing his eyes as though he were in pain, his jaw tensing before relaxing as he looked at you again. “You ain’t alone.”

You’re not sure what compels you to cross the fine line you’ve been balancing on for months now, but you find yourself clinging to his flannel, your lips pressed against his as though you were trying to merge into him for good. Joel’s hands find your hips once he realizes what’s happening, his lips taking back control. When his hand slides over the cotton of your one and only dress to cup your ass, you gasp into his mouth. Joel groans into it and moves his other hand to rest over your jaw.

All too suddenly, you’re grounded in reality when Ellie walks in with a question half spoken before she sees the two of you and utters an, “Oops, my bad.”

You and Joel pull away from each other, breathless and scared as you create space between your bodies by going back to your chore.

“El, why don’t you go on home? I’ll be there in a second.” Ellie wastes no time in obeying, grabbing her backpack and hurrying away from the scene as quickly as she could.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh once the two of you are alone. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Shh,” he hushes, his hand guiding your face to turn to him, your eyes meeting his own. “Don’t apologize.”

“It was wrong,” you argue, voice small like a child. You can tell he didn’t believe you honestly cared about that.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. You mean to nod your head but you find yourself shaking it instead. He smiles. “Good. I don’t regret it either.”

“No?” you ask, brows lacing together as you tried to read his mind.

“No, I…” he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve had a crush on you a long time now, darlin’.”

“You have?” He nods. “Will—“

“Shh,” he says, pinching your chin. “We don’t gotta talk about him. This can…be our secret. For now.”

“For now,” you repeat his words with a smile.

“I gotta get home so Ellie can make fun of me,” he says as he lets his thumb stroke over your cheek. “Do you work tomorrow?”

“I don’t,” you say, dizzied by his warmth.

“Does he?” You nod your head and try not to think of the man you’re betraying. “You wanna spend the day with me, then?”

“Doing what?” you ask in a giggle.

“Anything,” he says simply.

“Won’t people talk?”

“Why would they? We’re just friends for all they care,” he says, the smirk on his face bringing one to your own.

“Just friends, huh?” He nods. “Sure, Joel. I’d love to spend the day doing anything with you.”

Joel leans down, brushing his lips against yours in a teasing kiss that makes you whine against your best attempts not to.

“You gonna kiss me or not?” you ask with a smile, earning a chuckle.

“I’ll kiss you whenever you want me to.”

And he does.

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller reader insert #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #just friends

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saintkiri · 10 months ago

Text

summary: you felt numb after eren walked through your apartment door. you thought you would never find love again..well..eren wasn’t love. it was everything BUT love. he used you and ended up cheating. you have so many questions that you know you’ll never get the answer to. after a night out drinking with friends..you ended up finding love just outside the door where you watched eren leave.

content warnings: cheating, smut (begging, multiple orgasms, spanking, unprotective sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare) toxic!eren, mentions of therapy, praying to God, anxiety, throw up (?). if i miss anything, lmk :)

wc: 5.6k

author note: …so it’s been 2 years since I’ve actually written and posted something. I meant to post this almost 2 years ago & I promised you guys I would post it & I never did. but, life was crazy and I am still adjusting. Anywhos, don’t expect much from me writing. I am glad to be back even tho I’m not 😭

part one (pls read so this can make sense)

taglist | aot masterlist

When Eren walked past that door, you felt like you lost a piece of you. The last thing he told you made you feel even more stupider than you have ever felt.

‘The moment I laid my eyes on her, I stopped loving you.’

That sentence kept repeating over and over again.

You closed the door, and fell. Your back sliding against the door until you were sitting on the ground waiting for the tears to come. But, they never did. You were so numb and shocked, that you couldn’t shed a single tear.

Your life and emotions relied on him. He made you feel everything you craved.

It didn’t make sense. He stopped loving you the moment he laid his eyes on someone else.

What made her so perfect?

Eren would always made comments saying that you were the girl of his dreams. How could he say all the right things just to cheat?

You lost track of time, you sat against the door in silence, watching the apartment go from dark to light. You were so numb, you couldn’t sleep. It felt like he drained every emotion out of you with a sentence. All it took was one sentence to change you.

The memories of you and him kept running pass your thoughts. As you watched time go by, it was as if the ghost of you and him were running through the apartment. It hurt. You remembered all the laughs, all the times where he made your heart feel so warm and full.

But now, how can your heart go from that feeling over never ending lust to feeling cold and empty?

It’s been about six months since Eren. It’s been hard to say the least. For the first month, you couldn’t even recognize yourself. You couldn’t stop thinking about him all day. It was always either you replaying his last words to you, replaying the argument, or all the times you should have realized he was cheating on you.

Slowly, you grew. It took you a while to get back up on your feet. It took you a while to get used to a life without him. You never really realized how much you relied on him. Your friends helped you move on and get back to your life.

You would gradually throw away Eren’s stuff during the first three months. First, it was the pictures and little momentums. You burned and threw out all the polaroids, all the gum wrapper hearts he would make, all the receipts, and every physical memory. It was weird because when you and Eren broke up, you would randomly find those hearts wherever around the apartment. You would keep them in a jar on your dresser, and slowly throughout the relationship, the jar kept getting filled to the point where you needed a new one. After the breakup, when you would find one, you would throw it out.

Every time you threw one out, a little piece of your heart went with it and you couldn’t explain why.

The day you finally decided to move on hurt you just as bad as the day Eren and you broke up. You were burning away not only the bad memories but the core memories. The polaroid picture from your first kiss, the rose he got you for your first date, the first movie ticket. Every single physical memory was being turned to ash. Jean and Mikasa helped you light the match and watched everything burn with you. You didn’t cry at first, and you didn’t start crying until they both left.

You closed the door, thanking them for being there for you..and for pushing you to move on. Although your heart was breaking, you still managed to smile. As soon as the door closed, you were back at the same position you were six months ago. Your back against the door, still somehow wishing that this was just some sick joke.

Tears were running down your face. You would wipe them just for there to be more. You sobbed in the same position. At this point, it felt like a routine. You would try your hardest to get over Eren, no matter what you would do to get over him, the memories haunt you.

Slowly, you stopped crying. You don’t know how long you sat there, it could have been minutes or hours. You eventually stood up, then you walked to your kitchen as if nothing happened. The first thing you grabbed was to go to your cabinet to get a glass when suddenly you heard someone talking on the phone outside of your apartment. The voice sounded familiar, it was deep yet somehow smooth.

You put down the glass and walked back to the door. You then looked out of the peephole to see Jean sitting on the ground across from your apartment. Your eyes widened slightly, wondering why he was there. You opened the door, seeing Jean’s facial expressions. He looked tired, concerned, mad, everything you were feeling right now.

“Jean?” You say softly, while you were watching Jean slowly get up. He walked towards your door not saying much. But yet, the silence says it all. “H-How long were you sitting there for?” You opened the door some more to let him in. “Just long enough so I know you stopped crying because of him.” Your heart dropped.

How long has he been doing this? That was the first question that came to mind. You were having mixed emotions right now. How were you supposed to feel? Although your heart felt somewhat warm, you were also feeling untrustworthy.

Jean walked to your dining table and leaned against it. He then crossed his arms. You walked to your kitchen, "Do you want something to drink?" It was the least you offer, especially since he was sitting outside for who knows how long. "Do you have any alcohol?" He joked, and a small chuckle left your mouth. You grabbed another glass, then walked over to your counter to grab some alcohol.

You opened the bottle, then poured some for you and Jean. You handed Jean his glass, "Why do you wait?" You asked while taking a small sip. Jean stayed quiet, most likely trying to think of an answer. There was this moment of awkward silence.

Before you and Eren started dating, you and Jean were best friends. You and him have been friends for years, but when Eren came along, your friendship changed. Eren became possessive and toxic. He didn't like how close you were with Jean. So eventually, you stopped talking to Jean.

But, when you and Eren broke up, Jean came running to be right by your side. Although you and Jean stopped talking, Jean never stopped wanting to protect you, he never stopped watching over you, and never stopped loving you even after seeing you with another man.

Jean has had feelings for you since he met you. There's always been this little spark between the both of you. Eventually, that spark grew to be something more. He always tried to protect you. He would try to tell you what Eren was doing behind your back but you wouldn't listen to him in fear of Eren seeing you two together.

"I wait because I'm worried, y/n."

"Why are you worried, Jean?"

Jean took another sip of his liquid courage and walked towards you. You walked backward until you reached the counter. "Because you were crying over a man who didn't deserve you." Jean softly confessed. Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, your eyes locked with Jean's hazel eyes. His expression was gentle with a mix of protectiveness..and a mix of love. "Then who deserves me?" You responded, feeling a rush of emotions come over you.

Your heart started racing as Jean leaned in closer to you. Was it the alcohol? Was it the fact that Jean is right about you getting over Eren?

Jean's hands were placed on top of the counter, cornering you. His right hand found its way to your hip. His lips inched towards yours, “You deserve someone who takes your breath away every time you look at him. Someone who makes you laugh, smile, feel every emotion that Eren didn’t.” Your eyes lock with his, feeling his breath against your lips. “I-I’t’s you..” You whisperingly confessed. Suddenly, he kissed you with passion, feeling sparks fly. Your noses bumped into each other as little giggles left your mouths. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His lips tasting like the alcohol you were just drinking a moment ago. Your lips move with his, for the first time in what felt like months, this was the kiss you've been dreaming of. The kiss that makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, the kiss that makes time go by slowly, the kiss that makes all the others seem non-existent.

You felt Jean's hands pick you up and place you on the counter, "Are you drunk?" You asked as his lips found their way to your neck, gently kissing and leaving hickeys. Jean stopped his movement, as a small smile spread on his face. The smile you missed, the smile you practically dreamt of, the smile that never failed to make you smile. "No." He answered, as he slowly dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, "Are you?" He asked in return, you nodded, not knowing how to respond.

Jean's free hand moved towards your buttoned pants, "No answer?" He asked with a sly smirk on his face. Your mind went blank. His fingers played with the button as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I'm going to ask one last time, y/n. Are you drunk?" You coughed out a response, "N-No. No, I'm not, Jean." A laugh left his mouth.

"Good, because I don’t want our first time to be while you're drunk." He whispered again. Just like that, his lips were on yours. This time, that once soft kiss was now a kiss full of meaning. You don't know what came over yourself...and right now you weren't thinking about that. You were thinking about how soft his lips were, how his lips were on yours, and how you felt at that moment.

Jean picked you off the counter, and for a moment, all emotions that you had left for Eren had left your mind and all you can think about was Jean.

That kiss made you realize one thing.

It's always been...him.

It's always been Jean since the first day you laid your eyes on him. You were blinded by Eren. You were blinded by the fact that a very popular guy finally chose you. You were wrong..and now you want to spend the rest of your life making it up to Jean.

As he walked into your bedroom, your legs were wrapped around Jean's waist. He gently placed you on the bed, his lips finally leaving yours for a split second, "Finally, you're mine." You could cry with pure happiness. It was the happiness you never felt with Eren..but only with him.

You gave him a small and gentle peck, whispering softly, "Finally." You both smiled as you went back to kissing. His lips never left yours. If they did leave yours, they would end up moving and peppering kisses on your neck, as he slowly ripped away each item of clothing off of your body.

The tip of his index finger teased the top of your panties. You roll your hips, "J-Jean.." You moaned out softly, hoping he would get the hint. A sly smile grew on his face, chuckling slightly at how much you were begging for him. "God, y/n." He whispers in your ear as his lips move at a slow rate.

His fingers inch more and more towards where you wanted him to touch you most. You were getting impatient, all you wanted was to feel him. You moved your hands when suddenly Jean pinned them above your head.

The sexual tension was so thick. As much as he wants to fuck you, he wants to take his time.

Your eyes meet, "Please touch me, Jean." You begged. His eyes read yours, and that's when he lost all control. Fuck taking his time, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He moved his hand from pinning yours to taking off your panties.

It all happened so fast. One moment Jean was taking his time, devouring you inch by inch, finally getting what he's been dreaming of since he realized he had a crush on you.

Jean moved to the edge of the bed, and in one sudden motion, your thighs were wrapped around his neck. His lips peppered kisses on your inner thighs, moving closer to your aching clit.

He flatted his tongue and in one lick, he had you melting and moaning his name. That one moan sent him over, he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. This moment will be embedded in his brain for who knows how long.

Your fingers brush through his brunette locks, highly tugging at the roots, "Fuck, Jean." You moaned out as Jean's tongue circled your clit, making your mind and body melt. You felt his fingers add into the mix, moving slowly, pressing against the spot that makes you lose control.

He was in between your legs, lewd noises were the sound that was echoing in the room, pleads, begs, screams and moans.

His long, slim fingers thrust into you, making you moan louder and louder. Jean was loving the way your moans sounded. It was like music to his ears.

Over and over again, you were chanting Jean's name. It was every time he hit that spot, you would scream his name in pleasure.

Jean replaced his tongue with thumb and admired the view ahead of him, "God, you're so fucking hot, y/n." He said as your eyes met with his. A sly smile spread on his face while watching your reaction to his compliment. Your lip slid between your teeth, trying your hardest to hold back your moans.

He replaced his thumb back with tongue, and your head fell back onto the bed, feeling his tongue explore your cunt again. Your hands then roamed your body, finding their place over your mouth. You then began to slightly ride his mouth.

A familiar feeling began to stir in your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your toes curled, feeling his finger movements begin to speed up.

You were speechless, you couldn't spit out a word, it felt that good. Finally, you spit out the words, "W-Wanna cum, so-so bad." Jean sped up his movements, moving his mouth off of your core, then crawling in between your legs, moving up until you were face to face.

His fingers didn't stop moving as he kissed you. Your moans were muffled by the kiss. "Cum on my fingers, y/n." He didn’t have to tell you twice. You came on his fingers, and instantly, your legs started shaking.

Jean got off the bed, and you held yourself up with your elbows, watching him pull down his boxers, and your jaw instantly dropped. His dick was big, probably the biggest one you've seen. He was mesmerized by your reaction to his size.

Your eyes locked with his as you sat up. You grabbed his arm and immediately pulled him into a kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling Jean slowly spreading your legs.

His lips left yours for a split second, "Are you on the pill?" You nodded, "Are you clean?" You asked as his hand inching towards your aching cunt. He nodded, kissing you back in response.

"Good, now I want you to beg for it, y/n." You smiled slightly because thought he was joking. You wanted him obviously, your body was practically begging for him. The tip of his dick teased your sensitive clit, and a quiet moan left your lips.

You lifted your hips, trying to get more out of him. Your smile disappeared when you realized he wasn't kidding, he was dead serious. You looked into his eyes, and his sparkle was gone.

"P-Please." you said desperately. Jean raised his eyebrow, "That's all you got? C'mon, y/n. Your body is practically begging for me..." His lips inched towards yours, "But, I want to hear you beg for my cock." His words hit straight to your core. "Please, Jean. Please fuck me. I-I want you so-so much."

Jean chuckled as he moved the tip of his dick in between your folds, “Where do you want it, princess?” He said as he kept teasing your aching cunt. You buck your hips against the tip of his cock, begging for some sort of friction. You look up and all you see is his desperate eyes on yours. “I want you to fuck me with your cock.” He chuckles, “Good girl.” he praised, and in one swift motion, he finally slid into your cunt. You both moaned. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and the bottom of your lip slid in between your teeth.

He bottomed out, hitting the spot that made you scream his name. With each thrust, came a moan. "F-Fuck, Jean!" You said as he pounded his cock into you.

You dug your fingers into his back, slowly moving them up, making sure to leave a mark. Jean inhaled sharply, "So fucking t-tight, y/n." Jean said as he kept bottoming out into you, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

Jean's lips found their way to yours, the kiss was deep. It was almost like he was trying to devour you as if you were his last meal. Although the kiss was deep, it had a meaning. You were his, you belonged to him. And, you were okay with that. Jean moved his lips from your throat and then moved to his next position. He grabbed your ankles and placed them on his shoulder, hitting your g-spot at a different angle.

He kissed your ankle as he kept pounding into you. The view in front of you looked so hot. He was hitting all the places that made your mind go blank. “Fuck.” Jean moaned. His moans made you want to exploded right then and there. He moved your legs and by habit you wrap them around this waist.

“This pussy was made for me, y/n.” Jean expressed in the nook of your neck, peppering kisses, sucking softly. Your fingers raked through his locks, lightly tugging. “J-Jean..harder.” You begged. You wanted him to fuck you like no other could. You wanted him to make you forget about Eren.

His thrusts slow down making you whimper. Jean flips you on your stomach, “Grab onto the headboard.” He demanded. You wrap your fingers around the cold metal bars, “Please.” You begged. Jean chuckled as you felt his dick slam into you again. You practically scream, feeling the bed shift slightly. Jean’s hands find their place in your hair. His finger wraps around your hair, making a make-shift ponytail, tugging at your roots. You moan feeling his dick hit a new spot from the new position he has you in.

You suddenly felt a harsh slap on your ass, you wince from he pain..but, you wanted more of it. Sounds of slapping skin fill the room, “Keep milking my cock, y/n.” You clench around his cock with every thrust.

You could feel your orgasm building up, feeling Jean’s hand leave your hair, then snaking to your clit. “You gonna’ cum, princess?” You nod, not being able to find the words. You felt another harsh slap on your ass, “Words.” He warned. Jean’s movements on your clit made your toes curl, making you moan loudly.

“Yes, I-I need to cum..so so bad.” You felt his thrust fasten, knowing he was close too. He instantly flips you over again, feeling his lips on yours. You wrap yours around his neck, “Cum for me, princess.” That’s all it took. Your legs started trembling as your orgasm unraveled. Jean emptied his load into you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

His lips found yours again as he pulled out. This kiss was different. This kiss felt like you were home..with him.

Jean’s lips left yours as he got up and walked to your bathroom, leaving you absolutely speechless. You couldn’t believe that just happened..but yet, you were so glad it did. You turn your head to see Jean in the bathroom, running a washcloth under some water.

Eren never did aftercare. He would just fuck you, and leave you hanging. Most of the time, you didn’t even finish..it was always about him finishing, his pleasure before yours, and that’s when your handy vibrator came into your life. Looks like you wouldn’t be needing that anymore with the way Jean just fucked you.

You thought sex like this belonged in porn.

Jean walked out of the bathroom smiling, “What are you smiling about?” You questioned him as he bends your still trembling legs. He kisses the top of your knees as he cleans your most sensitive area, you wince feeling the washcloth on your clit.

“You.” It was a simple one word..but, it made your heart melt leaving your very dirty thoughts behind. His fingers find your clit again, as that smile turned into a sly smirk. You moan, “Jean.” You warned softly, as he rubs it slowly. His fingers slip into your hole, “Just cleaning you out.” He says, as his fingers hit your g-spot. Your hand wraps around his wrist, “Do you want me to stop?” You shaking your head, never wanting him to stop.

He continues his movements, your legs squeezing together as his long, slim fingers continue to pump into you. You could feel your orgasm bubbling up. “Let go for me, princess.” And that’s all it took for your third orgasm to unravel, leaving you in a moaning mess.

His fingers left your cunt as his eyes locks with yours. He licks his fingers cleaning, “Now, I’m actually going to clean you up.” A giggle leaves your mouth as you feel the washcloth sliding over your skin again. You could get used to this.

You started thinking about life with Jean. “So, now what happens?” You ask out of curiosity. You were absolutely terrified of losing him. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were you guys going to pretend this didn’t happen? Were you guys going to start a life together? Were you guys going to stay as friends? You had so many questions that were fueling your anxiety.

He stops his movements, looking at you, “I said that I was never going to let you go, y/n. You’re mine.” Tears start to form in your eyes, “Losing you to Eren was my biggest mistake, I should have never let you go..I felt like I hurt you. If I would have kept pushing you, and telling you everything he was doing behind your back, I thought I would have lost you permanently.” He stands up and walks across the room, throwing the used washcloth into the hamper. Then walking towards the bed, laying next to you. He places his hand on your cheek, “I will never ever let you go..And I mean it. I will spend all this lifetime and the next proving it to you.”

As a tear escapes your eye, Jean’s thumb catches it, “Why are you crying?” And suddenly, there were more tears..too many tears for his thumb to catch. You roll over, placing your head on his chest. “I’m sorry.” You say in the midst of a broken sob, Jean doesn’t say anything, he just caresses your head and lets you cry.

You wrap your arm around his chest, hugging him so tight, as if he was going to leave went you woke up. All this time, Jean waited for you. For all the years that you were with Eren, Jean was there waiting to help you when he left.

The day that Eren left the apartment, you called Jean, and he ran to your apartment. You didn’t know who else to call, you wanted the one person who knew how to comfort you, your best friend. Jean helped you through all the stages of your break up. He was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there when you couldn’t find yourself. And now, here he was yet again, being the shoulder you cried on.

“It should have been you, Jean.” You said through the soft sobs, “It shouldn’t have been Eren, I should have never been with him..it was supposed to be you.” Jean kissed the top of your head, comforting you.

Jean kisses the top of your head, as you looked up at him, “Now we can make up for lost time.” His lips inched towards yours, “Starting now.” His lips connected with yours.

This is what loves feels like..and it’s how it should have been from he start.

Jean is your forever.

Jean is the missing piece to your broken puzzle.

Jean is the person you prayed to God for everyday instead of Eren.

Jean is your other half.

____

2 YEARS LATER:

“Here’s to your last day being engaged!!” Mikasa exclaimed as she jumps into your arms. You were out for brunch with all your girlfriends, celebrating your last day being an engaged woman. You never thought this day would come.

Jean ended up proposing a year ago..and it was so romantic. You both knew you wanted to get married. Jean wanted it to be a surprise though. He had taken you to a romantic restaurant..which would have been very cliche of him. You and him would always joke about the cliches. He knew you wanted everything but the cliches.

He ended up getting on one knee when you least expected it. He wanted to catch you off guard. You and him were going house hunting when he proposed. You guys were looking at a house and the moment you step foot into it, you saw your life with Jean flash before your eyes. Every corner you turned, you could imagine kids running around. When you went into the kitchen, you saw family dinners..just the thought alone brought tears to your eyes.

It was when you guys walked into the backyard when you looked Jean in the eyes and told him exactly how you felt. That was your forever home, the place where you wanted to grow old and gray with Jean, the place where you wanted to start a family..that was where your future was. You turned around for a split second and when you turn back to face Jean, he proposed.

You didn’t even let him finish talking. You knew you wanted to marry Jean for years. Even before Eren.

Even after a year of him proposing to you, you still think about every single word Jean said. He said the same exact thing you were thinking while walking through the house. His dream was your dream.

The wedding was around the corner and you couldn’t wait. It was going to be a small wedding. You and Jean just wanted something simple. You both agreed that the memories were more important than the big wedding.

As you, Mikasa, and the rest of your friends leave after drinking one too many mimosas, you accidentally bump into someone. You instantly apologize, looking up to see the man who broke you in ways you thought couldn’t be fixed. This was the actual time you bumped into him. “Y/N?” Hearing your name leave his lips sounded like poison. It’s the one voice that still haunts you.

You started to feel sick, feeling bile rising up your throat. His eyes inched towards your taken hand. You couldn’t find words. There were so many things you wanted to say..but, it wasn’t worth your time. Jean helped you move on, he put you back together when you couldn’t find the pieces. Eren took a piece of you that you were still trying to find..even after all these years. You slowly back away, calling out his name once.

You walk past him linking your arm with Mikasa’s, “I’m sorry.” The two words stop your movement, you turn around for a split second, feeling Mikasa giving you and encouraging squeeze. “You’re not sorry, Eren. You never were..you ruined me. Y-You used me, cheated on me, fucking tore my heart into pieces.” You walked closer to him, “You don’t get to apologize, you piece of lowlife scum, I hope you rot.”

Before he could say another word, you turned away linking your arm with Mikasa’s. You feel good. A smile spread on your face, “You feel good, y/n?” You nod, feeling a sense of relief fuel your veins.

You never really got closure and that was something you struggled with for the longest. You still don’t understand why he cheated on you. The countless therapy sessions helped for a short period of time. But, this is your closure. You said what you said, and you feel good. This is what you needed to open the next chapter of your life.

As you walk into your stunning house, you were immediately greet by the newest addition to your family, Remi. She’s a french bulldog you and Jean adopted when you moved into the house. She lights up your world. You and Jean are so grateful for her. After greeting your pup, you were greeted by your fiancee.

You give him a soft kiss, feeling his hands on your waist, instantly feeling like you’re home. “How was brunch?” A smile spread on your face as you take off your coat, “It was a lot of fun! I wish you were there though.” You said as you were taking off your heels.

“Yeah, I wish I went too. Connie is having a late dinner later to have a pre-celebration for tomorrow.” You roll your eyes with a smile, “Make sure you don’t drink too much, Jean.” A chuckle leaves his throat, giving you another kiss on the cheek.

As you both walk towards the kitchen, you were thinking about how to tell Jean about your interaction with Eren.

He opens the cabinet when you broke silence, “I bumped into Eren.”

Jean turns around, placing both of his hands on the counter, “What happened? Did he do anything?” You shake your head, as a small smile spread on your face, “I got closure, Jean. I feel good.” You went onto telling him what you said and you both ended up laughing. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. So, telling him what you said made the both of you laugh.

“I’m proud of you, y/n.” The four words made tears run down your cheek. Yet again, even after all these years, Jean is there to catch every single tear. “I’m glad you finally got the closure you’ve been searching for.” You wrap your arms around his waist, “Me too. I feel like I can let go of that chapter of my life.”

Tomorrow was the start of a new chapter.

Although you know your next chapter won’t be picture perfect, you were okay with that. As long as you had Jean on your side, you knew that it would be your version of picture perfect. And, that’s all you needed.

As you’re walking down the isle, you think about everything you (and Jean) have been through to get to this moment.

In a sense, you were grateful that everything happened, because it led you here, marrying your best friend, and you couldn’t imagine life go any other way. Jean has taught you that love is real, you just have to find the right person. Life has a funny way of showing love, it’s like a road to describe it the least.

Life and love are both bumpy roads, there’s all these bumps, cracks, unexpected turns, things that get in your way. But, once you get past that, the road is smooth and clear.

Today, you’re marrying your soulmate, your other half, your best friend, & you couldn’t wait to finally be Mrs. Kirstein.

Jean didn’t lie when he said you were his. Since that day, he never left your side. He was there for everything. Every doubt, every cry, everywhere you least expected him to be.

The six words you’ve been waiting for years for finally approached, “You may now kiss the bride.” Jean kissed you like your life depended on it..just like the first time he kissed you. The kiss that makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, the kiss that makes time go by slowly, the kiss that makes all the others seem non-existent.

“I told you, you were always mine, y/n.” He whispered against your lips. A bright smile spread on your face. It was just you and him. You zoned out the crowd, as if time was going in slow motion. You stare into his eyes and see your future. You place your thumb under his eyes, collecting the tears that he’s always done for you.

Inching your lips towards his, feeling the same emotions as his. You whisper, “Forever and always yours.”

The end.

🏷️: @betterwinter @moonlight445sblog @linglingisyutabiased @takspv @imaninfjbiherself @levisstainedunderwear @cafesho @Unicornlover25 @mocha-focha @Mochaxfocha @szna @yeagerfushiguro @twiixiies @haitanihime @Crazytyphoon @the-sun-baby

Finishing note: thank you so much for all the love in broken promises! It’s been two years since I posted it and it’s still one of my favorites. I am very happy with how it ended. There were some bits and pieces in here that I took from my actual life. Remi is true!! She’s my baby🫶🏻..plus some breakup scenes were from my breakup😭. Anywhos, I hope to be able to get back into writing soon :)

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scuttling · 4 months ago

Text

I Can Handle Me A Dangerous Man - Ch 6

Fandom: True Blood (TV) Pairings: Eric Northman/Female Reader or Eric Northman/OFC Word Count: 6,247 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dream sex, Masturbation, D/s situations, Knife play, Blood sharing Summary: Eric and Cam return to Melanie's, and on the way back, something changes between them.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

She knows she’s dreaming, because Eric is beneath her, and since she’s known him he’s always been towering over her, covering her, leaning into her space.

Her knees are spread around his waist and sinking into the fluffy comforter they’re on top of, his hands high on her thighs as he helps her bounce and grind on his cock. She feels the ghost of him inside her, knows pleasure in this dream, but it’s nothing like the real thing, doesn’t compare to even the real life press of his palm against her lower back.

“I need more. So close, so close,” she chants, whimpering while his broad hands slide up to her breasts to squeeze them roughly, to close around her throat and make her face heat with the pressure.

“I’m right here,” dream-Eric comforts, brushing his thumbs over her bottom lip. “Daddy’s right here, just give in. Please just give in, baby.”

Her hairline prickles with sweat in this dream, the room warm and almost stifling around them as she works to bring herself off using his strong, gorgeous body. She drops a hand to her clit, rubs furiously until she’s coming and squeezing hard around his cock, crying out with the blissful feeling of release, of his hands, now on her hips so tight they must bruise.

She collapses on top of him, catching her breath against his chest, his hands moving soothingly up and down her back, over the sore spots on her skin. He praises her, perfect, Camila, good girl, makes her drift so far into another world she can’t remember anything but the sound of his voice in her ear.

She wakes up with no marks on her body, but one sticky hand between her thighs.

Cam receives a text the next night - I’m hiring a new bartender. Will you come by and help me vet him? Pam will pick you up.

Eric is looking unfairly handsome when she arrives, especially after that goddamn dream of hers. He’s got a low cut tank on, baring his chest and throat, with a leather jacket thrown over the top—she almost feels underdressed in her turtleneck and jeans, but it’s still early evening and the club is closed, so she doesn’t think it makes a difference to anyone but her.

“Camila, welcome,” Eric says, standing and walking toward her. He takes her handbag and shows her to the table where the prospective employee, Darren, is seated. The man stands when she approaches, and he’s good-looking too, with dark hair and blue eyes, a killer smile he unleashes the moment she takes his hand.

“Hi, I’m Darren,” he greets, and Eric hands Cam’s bag to Pam and pulls out a chair for her. She smiles back and introduces herself, then sits down and waits for Eric to push her chair back in. Darren sits too, drums his fingers on the table between them. “I’m, uh, 29, used to bartend at The Regal before the manager ‘went in a different direction’—girls in low cut tops,” he explains. “I’ve been doing it for about five years, and I think I’d fit in well here. I’m definitely pro-vamp, you know, and I’ve hung out here with my friends a few times. Love the vibes,” he says, looking to Eric, who appears bored by the conversation.

Cam listens in to the things he’s not saying, like that he actually got fired for hooking up with the manager’s girlfriend, one of the aforementioned girls in low cut tops. She doesn’t think that’s a deal breaker for Eric, gives him a gentle smile.

“Well that’s great to hear. Fangtasia gets all kinds, so having someone charismatic and open minded at the front of the house is important to us. It makes all of our guests feel at ease.” She lets a bit of flirtatiousness seep into her tone, a test, and he grins.

“Well I’m all about making everyone feel at ease. They come here to have a good time, you know?” She nods, probes his mind again—just some low grade horny stuff, typical human thoughts, and he’s thirsty. She stands from the table and crosses over to the bar, grabbing a pitcher of water and a glass, then fills it and takes it back to him. When she sets it down, he thanks her, lets his fingers brush hers as he lifts the glass. “Do you come here to have a good time? Or are you strictly business?”

“That’s not exactly relevant,” Eric speaks for the first time, leaning forward in his seat. Cam instinctively moves her chair a little closer and sits down beside him, clears her throat.

“How are you with cash?” she asks Darren, whose smile has dimmed a little at Eric’s comment. He takes a sip of water and nods.

“All good, I have a business degree and I’m great at math, so I always balance. And I tend to make pretty good tips.”

She doesn’t doubt that, with his toned arms and charming smile; they talk a bit longer, and his thoughts corroborate what he says, no red flags or reason for concern she can pick up on.

After the makeshift interview, they all rise and Cam shakes his hand, tells him they’ll be in touch. Though Pam already has his contact information and resume, he jots down his phone number on a napkin and hands it to her personally, “in case you have any more questions for me.”

Eric doesn’t shake his hand, but he does pull the napkin from her grasp and crumple it up into a ball when he’s gone.

“Hey,” she says lightly, following his long strides as he walks toward the trash can behind the bar and sinks a basket. “What if I had more questions for him?”

“That wasn’t an offer for another interview, and you know it,” he replies, pouring a glass of water and handing it to her with an expressionless look on his face. “He wants to sleep with you.”

“He wants to sleep with pretty much every girl he sees,” she counters, taking a grateful sip. “Including his previous manager’s girlfriend, which is the real reason he’s seeking work at your fine establishment.”

“I don’t know if he’s right for us.” Cam arches a brow, but Eric makes no effort to explain himself, so she’s left trying to figure it out on her own.

“Because he cheated? I feel like that’s the least of your worries. He didn’t skim, he has no criminal background, he’s never gotten into an altercation with a customer. He’s not part of any anti-vampire groups,” she ticks off with her fingers. Pam’s initial research was very thorough, and Cam was actually kind of impressed. “He makes drinks and looks hot, which is really all you need.”

She’s surprised when he moves closer, because even though that’s part of his usual MO, this time is different. His steps are slower, more purposeful; she’d think he was trying to intimidate her, if she didn’t know better. Or maybe turn her on? She can’t help that things like that cross the wires in her brain, how sometimes he’s even more attractive when he’s angry with someone or roughing them up.

“Is it all you need?” he asks when he’s in front of her, his voice sultry and low. “Or do you need more?” She exhales softly at his words, strangely similar to the words she’d uttered in her dream, and he brings a hand up to rest at the base of her throat, pressing his fingertips into her flesh.

She does need more, wants more, from him—as good-looking as Darren was, she can’t imagine getting what she needs from anyone but Eric now. He is the man of her fantasies, the one who knows more than she does about her own desires, but she knows she can’t have all the things she wants, even if he’s willing to play along when they’re alone.

And suddenly they aren’t alone, as Pam walks back into the room and clears her throat.

Eric steps back, takes his hand off of her, and after a long moment of continued eye contact, she grabs her bag from behind the bar and heads for the door.

“Just hire him,” Cam calls over her shoulder as she leaves.

She doesn’t hear from Eric for three days, until he shows up at her door just after the sun has set. He’s wearing a suit, all black, the first couple buttons of his shirt undone, and he both looks and smells absolutely mouthwatering. Whatever expensive cologne he’s got on is really working for him.

“There’s another party at Melanie’s, and she was so impressed with you last time that she’s asked for your services again. Are you willing?” She nods, takes a step back to invite him into the apartment.

“What does she want to know?” she asks, closing the door behind him.

“She and her pet have found another couple they’d like to play with,” he says, following her to her bedroom, where she tugs open the closet doors to inspect her options. “The dominant partner is human and Melanie would like you to get a read on him.”

She nods, flipping past hanger after hanger because nothing feels quite right for a party like Melanie’s; she stops when Eric moves closer with a soft hum of interest and pulls out a clingy little black dress with short ruffled sleeves and hem. It’s not what she would have selected, a little too cute, and she turns to him and says so.

“Won’t they expect me to look… I don’t know, sexy?” He holds the dress up to her, adjusts the neckline.

“They’ll expect you to look exactly the way your dominant wants you to look,” he says without making direct eye contact. “You’re free to choose, of course, but I think this one is perfect.”

When he does look at her face, he seems… Thoughtful, serious, almost smoldering as the silence between them evolves from a few seconds to a long, charged moment. They’re both breathing, but that’s all, eyes locked, bodies still, until she takes a step back and pulls her sweater over her head, tosses it onto the bed behind him. She’s not wearing a bra—though he can only see her from the back, now—but the dress doesn’t allow for one anyway, so that’s just one less step as far as she’s concerned.

Cam takes the hanger from his hands, slips the dress on, then unbuttons her pants and kicks them off, leaving them on the floor where they land. She tugs her hair out of the ponytail it’s been in all day, combs her fingers through it and then pulls it over one shoulder, exposing her back to him.

“Will you zip me up?” she asks, and he runs a hand over her hair, wraps his fingers around her arm, and pulls up the zipper slowly, purposefully, until it’s secure. Fixing her hair, she thanks him with a soft smile, then grabs a pair of shoes and sits down on the bed to buckle them up.

The drive to Melanie’s is strangely tense, and she can’t stop herself from looking over at him, at his silhouette in the dark. She can’t see his eyes, but her gaze lingers over his jaw, his chin, his Adam's apple, his lips… She’s not sure if it’s because of their stolen moment at the bar the other day, or the dreams she’s been having about him, but just looking at him turns her on and she only manages to look away when he turns his head and catches her.

His stoic expression cracks into a smile, but she doesn’t think too much into it, knows that her want just makes him enjoy their little game all the more.

This party of Melanie’s is a bit more private than the first, with seven couples in attendance, including Eric and Cam. A few of them she knows from the last get-together, a few she’s never met—including the reason she’s there, the couple Melanie wants her to check out before she commits to a date with them.

“That’s the one,” Eric says into her ear when they first walk into the room, and Cam spots the man he’s referring to right away. He looks to be in his fifties, wealthy, handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and a beautiful blonde vampire who appears to absolutely adore him. She is wearing a single strand of pearls and a wine-colored dress, hanging on his arm and his every word.

“I can see why Melanie’s interested,” she whispers back, and Eric puts his arm around her waist, maneuvers her in front of him as if guiding her from behind. It feels nice to be taken care of by him, and it’s what their fellow partygoers expect, so she goes with the flow, let’s him lead her where he wants, to Melanie and her pet at the bar.

“Eric, Camila. You two look positively gorgeous,” she says with a toothy smile, looking both of them up and down languidly. Her dark hair is in bountiful ringlets, and she wears a navy blue suit, which pairs nicely with her pet’s silky pink mini dress and silver heels. She wears her collar, of course, which tonight is connected to a matching silver leash that Melanie holds carefully between her fingers.

“And the both of you are beautiful, as always,” Eric says, removing one of his hands from her body to take Melanie’s and kiss it. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“You’re always welcome here,” she says, and her eyes rake over Cam again, to her surprise. Why she’s looking at Cam when she has Eric’s attention is beyond her. “It’s a shame you aren’t the type to share, but I do love seeing you nonetheless.”

Cam knows better than to indicate her confusion, to look like she’s questioning him here, so she holds her tongue for the rest of their brief conversation.

After they grab drinks, Eric walks her to an armchair on one side of the room and sits down, his legs spread just enough that she understands it’s an invitation perch on his lap. That’s new, and it makes her shiver, but she figures it’s just practical—they can’t talk here without whispering, and it won’t look as suspicious if she’s sitting in his lap and murmuring in his ear.

“What was that about?” she asks as she settles on his lap, his thigh firm and cool beneath her. She wraps her arms around him, one behind his shoulders and the other slung over his waist, and he keeps her close, rests his hand on the bare skin of her leg.

“With Melanie? Nothing.”

“You promised you wouldn’t lie to me, Eric,” she reminds him with an edge to her voice, because she’ll call an Uber and leave this party if he insists on keeping information from her, she has no hesitations about that.

He sighs, then moves her hair away from her neck and brushes his lips along her throat.

“I told you they were looking for another couple to play with,” he whispers in her ear. “She asked me first—if you and I would be interested. Obviously, I declined.”

She hums her understanding—certainly not because of the way his mouth trails along her neck, his hand resting between her thighs. She wants to be mad at him, because he’s obviously trying to soften her up, distract her, and cover up their conversation all at once… and because it’s working. Then she thinks, screw it, because he’s never going to stop teasing her this way, playing his game, and in that case, she might as well enjoy it.

“That explains why she’s looking over here like she’s starved for a meal.” Eric nods against her skin, runs his hand up and down her leg, and Melanie’s attention is even more targeted, her stare unyielding. Cam’s not looking directly, but she can feel her eyes on them and wants to make sure there is no doubt about their commitment this time. “You should kiss me,” she says quietly, and when he pulls back to look at her she meets his gaze.

Whatever he sees there, that’s all it takes for him to comply; his mouth is on hers in an instant, his hand moving from her legs to her face and cradling it as they kiss. She can feel her body warming up, and his, as he grows hard against her ass, and she brings a hand up to his shirt, rubs at the bare skin exposed by the undone buttons.

“Mmm, daddy.” Her voice is breathy when she says it, but he groans and breaks the kiss, looks at her with eyes so dark it’s hard to tell they’re blue. She licks her bottom lip, and he leans back in to kiss her again, rougher this time, his hand deliciously tight on her jaw.

When they part, she assumes it’s because of something Eric hears, because he seems reluctant to stop kissing but does it anyway. He runs his thumb over her lips, then slides his hand between her thighs again, but doesn't bother straightening his rumpled collar—which she finds out of character, and which she enjoys all the more for it.

A few minutes later, Melanie brings over her prospective partners and introduces them as Joel and Amanda before slipping away to tend to other guests. They curl up on the sofa beside Eric and Cam, talk a little about themselves, what they do for work, for pleasure, listen intently when Eric talks about the bar and what it’s like to be a sheriff, and Cam. He talks a lot about Cam, how they met, how smart and capable and beautiful she is, and she knows it’s for show but lets herself be warmed by his praise anyway.

Melanie and her pet—who Cam now knows is called Catherine—join the conversation soon after, snuggling up to Amanda and flirting with Joel, making the both of them laugh happily. Eric sips his drink, offers Cam hers, and because she feels strange just sitting silently in his lap she cards a hand through his hair, toys with the open buttons of his shirt between her fingers. He relaxes into her touch almost immediately, tilts his head just slightly like he’s enjoying it and wants more, and she leans in to whisper in his ear.

“All good so far. He’s genuine. And horny,” she adds, though it feels obvious. “He’s enjoying the thought of dominating two vampires, if that’s something Melanie’s up for, but overall he’s pretty mild. He isn’t even thinking about the blood.”

Eric doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t expect him to, just continues to rub his hand up and down her thigh. She figures she deserves that for teasing him too, and slips back into conversation easily, continues filtering Joel’s thoughts for anything untoward.

It’s early morning when they leave, and Cam needs Eric’s guidance—more because she feels a pleasant humming in her mind, her thoughts hazy from all of the kissing, the touching, all of Eric’s attention, than because they’d been drinking. The friendlier Melanie and Catherine became with Joel and Amanda, the more physically comfortable, and when they would pause the conversation to kiss or pet a little, Eric would keep them busy by making out with her slowly, drawing patterns against her skin with his fingertips. By the time they make it to the car, she’s aching with want, and she knows Eric can feel it, smell it, see it.

She spends the first half of the ride squeezing her legs together, trying not to think of his breath on her neck, his teeth at her ear, and then he reaches his hand toward her across the console, palm up like he wants her to take it.

She takes it, and he squeezes softly, eyes never leaving the road.

“You may touch yourself,” he says, low, and though she immediately flushes with embarrassment, the reaction is short lived. “Come in your panties like a good girl. You were so good for me tonight,” he praises, his voice like honey. “You always are.”

“Thank you,” she says almost automatically, and she runs her hand over her own thigh, a ghost of his previous touch. Her skin feels like it’s on fire, and she moans softly, earning Eric’s gaze.

“Camila,” he murmurs, and she closes her eyes, eager but nervous, so horny it hurts her. He’s watching, but if she’s not watching him watch her, she’ll be less self-conscious, and more… uninhibited. She’ll let herself feel good because he’s given her permission to, clearly wants her to, and god, does she want to please him.

She pushes her skirt up, knows he can see the purple lace panties she’s wearing, the ones she guides to the side so she can run her fingers over bare flesh. She’s wet, that’s no surprise, and she knows this is going to be quick, quicker because Eric is rumbling desire beside her and she wishes it were his fingers slipping through her slick.

“Mmm. Ooh,” she sighs as she slides her hand over her pussy, her lips easily spread and warm beneath her touch. She arches her back a little and rubs harder, a little faster, to feel that electric shock through her body. “Oh, god.”

“That’s it,” Eric encourages, squeezing her unoccupied hand, and her legs open wider almost instinctively, her hips tilting off the seat so she can press open her heat and ease one finger inside. “You’re fucking perfect,” he all but growls, and it vibrates through her, makes her buck her hips like she had in her dream, taking him in deeply, completely. “Another finger.”

She complies, sinks another finger inside; her hand is barely moving, it’s her rocking body that’s doing all the work, and part of her feels shameless and dirty, but the other part knows Eric wants this, is proud of her, maybe even worked her up on purpose so he could get her to do this in front of him. Either way, it’s a task she’s happy to perform, and when she comes on her own fingers she can hear the hitch of his breath, the wet snick of his fangs dropping.

The sound is almost enough to get her going again, but she’s exhausted and blissful, so she just hums her contentment before withdrawing her fingers and resting her hand on her thigh.

They’re parked on the side of the road, she realizes when she opens her eyes, in a remote area that looks kind of familiar. She blinks through her lashes, then turns her head to look at Eric, who… god, how could he even get hotter? But he is, his eyes blue like sizzling fire, his lips parted; neither of them speak, but he takes her other hand and wipes her fingers clean using the inside of her dress before they have a chance to make her uncomfortable. With a gentle touch, he fixes her crumpled panties, then leans in to brush his lips over hers again and again and again.

Eric gets her home, gets her cleaned up and into bed, and she reaches for him, wants him near. He understands why, and he knows he shouldn’t have pushed her that far in the car, that it was a selfish idea, even if it was spur of the moment; still, it happened, and he is as responsible for taking care of her now as he is for her previous arousal. He stays as long as he can before the sun threatens, laying in her bed and holding her until her breathing evens out in sleep.

That morning when Eric dreams of Cam, she is covered in blood: it’s a mixture of his blood and hers, leaking sluggishly from wounds he’s created with his fangs, with a sharp knife, its handle made of bone. Her wrists are above her head, tied together with a cord of leather and fastened to the post of her bed, and she writhes and whimpers as he thrusts his fingers into her soaked pussy, as he sucks at the juicy artery of her inner thigh.

“Please, please,” she repeats like a prayer, her eyes squeezed shut and then open and nearly rolling back in her head. “God, Eric, please.”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he says, leaning up, letting blood dribble from his mouth onto the soft flesh of her stomach as he kisses it, and she gasps, nods her head.

“Yes, daddy,” she corrects, though she shifts her hips up for more contact like a greedy girl indeed. “Whatever you give me, I’ll–I’ll take it.”

“Yes you will. Good girl,” he praises, licking at the spilled blood, and then swiftly flips her over, imagining the gorgeous smears of crimson she’ll leave on the fresh white sheets.

He pushes into her from behind, presses forward on his palms until he’s fully sheathed inside her tight, fluttering heat, then clamps a hand down on the back of her neck, rough and possessive.

“Take it, sweetheart, that’s right,” he mumbles as he fucks her, enveloped in the pleasure of her body, of the sweet sounds she makes for him, ones he’s actually heard firsthand; he’s craved domination since she first kissed him, maybe sooner, and he knows if she gives herself to him like this in reality, during the night, he will be lost. “Camila,” he pants, then leans in so he can press his cheek to hers. “Camila.”

“Eric,” she moans as he pounds against her, as his fingers twist into her hair and pull, undoubtedly making her roots ache. “Eric.”

“Camila. Camila. Camila.”

It’s barely night when Cam all but bursts through the front door of Fangtasia, wearing a pair of black pants and a white tank top, her hair loose in flowing waves. She looks serious, concerned, beautiful. “Hey. Pam called, came to pick me up—what’s going on?”

He knows he must look taken aback, because he didn’t have time to prepare his expression for that kind of questioning. He barely had time to register her presence.

“Nothing, I—Pam called you?” he verifies, and then Pam walks in the door, hovers behind Cam, though she doesn’t try to explain herself to him. Cam just nods and moves closer.

“Yeah. She said you needed me, that it was urgent,” she says, her eyes flicking over his face, his body, the line between her brows worried. This is so different from their last interaction, and he has difficulty wrapping his head around it.

“And you came.” He says it flatly, is able to conceal his… what is it, wonder, that she could care about him so much? As if she can tell anyway—and she probably can—she reaches for him, rests her hand on his forearm.

“Of course. Are you alright? Do you need me?”

“I think you should drink my blood,” he says before he has half a second to even think about the implications of it. Cam clearly feels the whiplash of his statement, blinks slowly a couple of times as if processing it.

“Sorry, what? I must have missed some of the conversation,” she tells him, and Pam perks up over Cam’s shoulder, nodding rapidly.

She’ll have to wait, because Cam is looking at him like he’s growing a second head.

“I think you should drink my blood. It would further strengthen our bond—you’d feel me if I were in distress, as I feel you. And I would be able to find you, if something went wrong. It’s more reliable than other forms of communication.”

He thinks briefly about the ways they already feel each other and wonders absentmindedly if this will be the thing that actually pushes him over the edge of sanity. Cam considers him seriously and eventually nods.

“Okay. I should—I mean, we should do that, right?” she asks, looking up at him for confirmation. It makes him feel… special, to know his opinion matters this much to her. “Are there any side effects I should know about? I know your blood can heal, and I just consider that a perk.”

Eric nods, and sighs, hopes what he tells her won’t put her off the whole idea.

“You may feel some physical changes for a while after you drink, like stronger senses, a bit more speed and agility. Mentally, you might find that I cross your mind more often. It’s part of the enhanced emotional tether we’d share. We’ll be even more attuned to each other’s state of being than we are now.”

She sets her bag down on the bar, but doesn’t appear phased by his admission.

“That’s good. It will help with the… stuff. The work, and the protection, mostly. So how do I—I mean, do you cut yourself, or bite yourself, or do I have to bite you?” she asks, gesturing to his neck. “I’m not sure I can bite that hard.”

“I would cut or bite myself to bleed for you,” he assures, his throat nearly closing up as he says the words. Five minutes ago this wasn’t an option, and now they’re discussing the specifics like it’s about to become reality. He’s surprised to find himself overwhelmed. “It is a very strong bond, Camila,” he says as a final disclaimer, giving her time to think this over if that’s what she needs. “Very strong, but breakable, in time.”

“I’m not worried about that,” she says more quickly than she probably should. Part of him wishes she would worry—that he’s bad for her, that he’s pushed her this far already, that he wants her like he’s never wanted in his existence—but her tone is determined and sure. “Can we do it tonight?”

“Yes,” Pam answers for him, walking up beside her. Cam drops her hand where she’d been touching Eric and takes a half-step away from him. “You can go do it now, in the office. It’s nothing ceremonial, just a quick nip and you’re on your way,” she says with a saccharine smile. Cam looks at her, tilts her head, and eventually looks back at Eric.

“She’s being way too nice. Does she gain anything from this? Commission, or something?” Cam asks, half-joking, and it does lighten the mood and bring a huff of a laugh to Eric’s lips. He shakes his head.

“No, she’s just nice sometimes; I know it can be unsettling.” He puts his hand on her shoulder, walking toward the back of the bar and bringing her along beside him.

“Very,” Cam says as she glances over her shoulder at Pam before walking through the office door.

Eric closes it and pauses, taking a deep, unnecessary but very needed breath.

“I know this is sudden, and what I’m asking of you is no small thing. If you need time to think it over…” Eric begins, his gaze soft on Cam’s face. Cam shakes her head.

“I know, and the same goes for you. I’m sure you’ve been thinking about this, weighing your options, and I want you to know I understand that it’s important to you, sharing your blood like this. I don’t take it for granted.”

It takes him a moment to let that sink in, she thinks, can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“I appreciate you saying that. It’s not something I do every day, but I am sure, if you are.”

He steps closer to her, gently touches her face, and she flashes back to that night at Melanie’s, the ride home after. Her throat constricts and her heart pounds in her chest.

That’s not what this is, she reminds herself. This isn’t dedication to each other, or something done out of lust or love. It will benefit them both, and Eric has decided the reward outweighs the risk. That’s all it is.

Still.

“I’m sure.”

With that, he nods and steps backward toward the desk, then leans against it and tugs up the sleeve of his v neck sweater, displaying thick, pale forearm and smooth, unmarked wrist. His eyes, darker than usual—probably due to the dimness of the office—linger over her lips, then meet her own gaze, and he lets his fangs fall without the usual fanfare.

She steps toward him and takes his hand, an acknowledgment of the seriousness of this, of the preciousness of this thing he’s offering; when he lifts his wrist to his mouth, their fingers are wrapped together.

He punctures his own skin like he would a human’s, two small wounds welling up with blood—and the way he looks at her as he does it, like they’re already tethered, like he’s seeing into every corner of her… it makes her heart race, her face flush. She does what feels natural—and maybe that’s taking it a step too far, but she can’t help herself—and sinks to her knees, bringing their hands to about thigh level before catching the slowly falling drops with her tongue.

At first, she sucks in a way that feels graceless and a little humiliating, so unfamiliar with this action in this context, but when Eric moans at the pressure of her mouth it becomes pure hunger. She takes his offering for the gift that it is, bunching the fingers of her other hand into the fabric of his sweater just over his stomach, and she drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

It has to be more than enough, she thinks around a moan of her own—it’s less about the taste for her and more about the feel of it, slick on her lips and warmer than she would have expected—but when his free palm falls to the top of her head, pushing her hair back from the curve of her face, all she knows for certain is that she never wants it to end.

It does, though, like all good things, and then Eric guides her to her feet and leans in for a deep, long, kiss that she feels with her entire body. He easily shifts their positions, so she’s the one propped against the desk, and then he pushes her onto it, curls his fingers around the back of her neck and keeps kissing.

They trade groans as their mouths move, frenzied, her hands grabbing at his shoulders, his careful but possessive on her face and throat. Her legs are parted, and she wants to wrap them around his body, pull him in closer and closer until they’re as tightly pressed as she needs them to be, but he slows his kiss and ultimately, unfortunately, backs away.

Icy blue eyes peer into hers as he moves fingers to her chin, tipping her face up so she’s locked in his gaze. Her chest heaves, and her body trembles like there’s something inside that wants to burst out of her skin and present itself to him, though she’s not sure what that may be.

“You will feel me, now,” he says, back to business as if he hadn’t just kissed her until she was lightheaded and thrumming with desire, as if he’s not hard in his pants, from the blood sucking or the kiss, she’s not sure. “I will find you, wherever you are.”

“And I’ll find you,” she confirms, wetting her lips; she’s almost surprised to taste his blood there, metallic but sweet, even more surprised when he swipes his thumb through it and brings it to his own mouth.

“All you need to do is call for me, and I promise I will come.”

“Why did you call her?” Eric asks Pam later, after Cam is long gone and the bar is closing up. Pam rolls her eyes and counts a stack of cash.

“Because I’ve had enough. You were moaning her name in your sleep,” she says, with an unsubtle hint that she finds the thought nauseating. She pauses her counting and flicks her eyes up to his. “I don’t normally like mixing business with pleasure, but I still think things would be better if the two of you just fucked already. And now that you’ve shared blood—” she begins, but he stops her with a look.

“She drank mine. I still haven’t tasted hers.”

For some reason, that lights her eyes up, puts a smirk on her merlot-painted lips.

“Really?” she asks in a lilting tone. “I would have figured you’d taken a sip during one of your, ‘investigations.’”

It’s Eric’s turn to roll his eyes, and he walks away, but unfortunately, Pam follows.

“Why would she want me to? Why would she want someone like me? With the desires I have for her?”

“She’s not exactly an angel herself,” Pam tells him, and he turns abruptly on his heel, knows she must see fury in his eyes. She raises her hands in apology. “Easy. All I mean is, I’ve seen the two of you together. She knows you, darkness and all, and she still wants you. She’s practically shown her belly trying to submit to you—either that or she deserves a good damn Academy Award.”

“That doesn’t mean I should take advantage—”

“Eric, come on, you love taking advantage,” she says sternly, hands moving to her hips. She looks like a teenager, and he finds that agitating.

“Not like this,” he says, pointing a finger at her, ending the conversation effectively with just that gesture and a few final words. “Not of her.”

He doesn’t dream of Cam that night, doesn’t need to: he can practically feel the slip of cotton over her skin as she changes into pajamas, the softness of the pillow when she lays down her head.

#eric northman #true blood #eric northman fanfic #true blood fanfic #eric northman x reader #eric northman x original female character

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galacticgraffiti · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar (I've developed a taste for you)

❁ 2 ❁

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: A favour for a favour - Astarion's world has worked like that for centuries. Except- you don't know that yet.

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 3.3k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Still debating how to go about C3... CW: nicknames, flirting, lusting after the pale man, blood, blood play, talks about biting, feelings talk

« Chapter 1 ⋆✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

Chapter 2: I'm a Winged Insect, You're a Funeral Pyre

You wake up wrapped in your bedroll, barely able to open your eyes. You feel exhausted - drained.

Drained.

You sit up, your hand flying up to your neck to feel for the wound Astarion’s fangs must have left there. They are small, barely tangible, but you can feel the small holes nonetheless.

You breathe out slowly, trying to gain some control over your feelings. The world blurs before your eyes as you recall last night.

This really happened. You let him do that to you. You gave your blood, willingly - and you found out Astarion’s big secret. Not just an elf, but a vampire. You knew he was hiding something, but something this big? May the gods have mercy on your soul because you have certainly sinned.

You shiver when the memories of last night push to the forefront of your mind - Astarion’s hand in your hair, his lips on your neck - his teeth in you. How it felt to be drunk from, how easy it was to give in and let him have what he wanted.

You don’t remember passing out, but you must have, because you have no recollection of making your way back to the campfire.

Carefully, you stretch out your sore muscles, bones and joints cracking.

“Good morning, darling.”

Astarion’s voice makes your head whip around. He is sitting there, on the thick stump of a tree right next to where you always sleep, watching you with concerned eyes.

“Good morning.” Your voice is scratchy, your throat drier than the seventh circle of the hells.

Astarion’s tongue peeks out from between pink lips, and you notice that he looks… invigorated.

“How are you feeling, sweet thing?” He sounds genuinely worried, and your heart flutters. “There was a moment last night- I thought I may have taken too much, but then you stirred in my arms… I am sorry, my dear, you just make me… hungry.”

The way his voice drops on the last word makes your heart flutter. If this is how he acts after you do him this favour, it may well have been worth it.

“Mhm.” You nod slowly, trying to focus your mind. You are not nearly as angry as you probably should be. “May have been a bit much. I’m feeling sort of woozy.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I do apologise. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” He saunters over, kneeling next to you, his finger stroking your cheek.

“Next time?” You laugh weakly. “You sound very certain there will be a next time.”

His eyes darken.

“Well, won’t there be?”

Your neck cracks when you stretch, then exhaustion makes you sink back into your little nest of warmth again.

“Mhh. I’ll have to think about it.”

“But- but I thought you liked it.” Astarion’s voice sounds vaguely distressed, his hand pulling away from your cheek. “I could taste it on you- I could feel it-”

“I- Gods, I’m not saying I didn’t… enjoy myself,” you clarify, though your cloudy thoughts are making it hard to put into words what exactly it is that you are feeling. “I’m just- you said it yourself, just a taste, but now you admit you lost control-”

“-I’ll get better at it with time, who was ever perfect the first time they did something?”

That shuts you right up. What in the hells does that mean?

Astarion’s face is guarded when he looks at you.

“It was… the first time I did not drink from an animal,” he explains quietly. “You were my first, and you were perfect. Better than anything I could have ever dreamed of, simply divine. A delectable treat that I was not in the least prepared for. I am sorry if I got a bit wrapped up in the moment, my love.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. Never in a million years would you have thought you might enjoy being called a ‘treat’, and yet, here you are.

Astarion pats your blanket, gently pushing you back down until you give in and roll up in your blanket once more. His voice is soft and gentle when he regards you.

“Now, now, my pet. Rest some more; it seems you need it. And… thank you.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, and the small smile on his face is the last thing you see before you slip off to sleep again.

*****

It becomes a regular occurrence after that. You know it shouldn’t, you know it is a stupid risk each and every time. You know you have less strength the next day, your head swimming and your throat aching. But, oh, to watch Astarion fight fuelled by your blood is a delight you never expected.

He is stronger, much more powerful than you ever saw him before - and happier. His behaviour does not change, exactly, but every once in a while, you now catch him trying to take care of you in small, nearly imperceptible ways. It astounds you, it surprised you - but you can’t help feeling flattered by his attentions.

Each time he drinks from you, the pain grows less and the odd ecstasy that accompanies it takes over more and more. It is intoxicating, to feel him so close to you, to witness the noises that escape him, and feel the bobbing of his throat when he swallows what your body provides. You start to look forward to the nights where he finds you.

Each time feels more intimate than the last: From the beginning of it all in that stream, to a secluded place in the woods by the campsite, to his lavish encampment, then yours, then his again, and finally, against a column in a forgotten crypt, when you two stay behind to loot the place while the rest of the party moves on.

It’s getting harder to separate your body’s reaction to something so visceral from feeling aroused by the power that comes with it. To look into Astarion’s blood-red eyes and know they are shining only because of you has an odd effect on you.

And while he whispers sweet nothings, while he groans and whimpers as he drinks you down, you always try to keep up some semblance of control: After that first time in the river, no noise ever escapes you, even though your jaw hurts from clenching.

You wonder vaguely if it is sick that you derive pleasure from this arrangement - but then again, so does he. It is all worth it to see how happy he is, though he waves Gale and Karlach’s comments of his improved mood off like bothersome flies.

Astarion keeps his promise - he never drains you as much as he did the first time, even though you can see in his eyes that he would keep going every time if he thought you might survive it. He never asks for seconds again, and you are grateful. If he did, you are not sure you could deny him.

It has been a while since he last came to you - a few days, no more, but you have gotten so used to your little ritual that it feels like an eternity.

You have moved camp since the last time you got to spend time together; deeper into the forest, on your search for the druid Halsin. You try not to think too much about the fact that Astarion has not sought you out. Trying to keep all this a secret has turned out to be harder than either of you thought. No opportunity has presented itself for a while now, and you have to be rational about the arrangement. It’s not in either of your best interest for the group to find out what you two have been up to. You would rather bear the lewd comments in quiet dignity, thank you very much.

Astarion consumes - well, not your every waking thought, but you find yourself thinking much more about him than you should. It’s not just his fangs that you daydream about either - his lips have snuck into your dreams, his hands, his voice. It’s just not fair.

Thus, tonight, you are determined to find a quiet place for the two of you. The urge that grows inside you must be satisfied. You tell yourself that you do this to make Astarion stronger - you have seen him weaken throughout the week, trying to survive off of animals the way he used to. But it’s not the same.

Now that you have seen what Astarion can do, you want to see him like that all the time: powerful, striking down enemies quicker than you can draw your weapon sometimes. And it’s not just for selfish purposes, either: You want him to feel like that all the time.

And so, you concoct a plan - simple yet effective.

After dinner - Karlach cooked, so it was actually quite enjoyable - you excuse yourself to go explore the surrounding woods. You tell your companions that you want to find another source of water, under the pretence of needing to wash your clothing. Actually, it may not be all pretence - you do smell. So do your companions, which is why no one has complained yet. But you may as well use the time exploring the forest for something helpful aside from just luring Astarion away.

When you catch the way Astarion’s head pricks up when you say that you are looking for a quiet place with water, you know that he has caught on. He is too smart for his own good sometimes, but this time, you are glad about it.

Anxiety grips your stomach as you wander through the darkness below the thick trees and hope that he might follow you.

What if he doesn’t? What if you happen upon a wild animal before he finds you? Maybe he has lost his taste for you, or-

“There you are, darling.” His voice has become so familiar in the last few days, quiet and demanding at the same time. You wish you didn’t like it so much.

You turn around to find Astarion much closer to you than you had anticipated. He is always so quiet.

“Here I am.” You cock your head. “Was there something I could help you with?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me now, sweet thing.” He steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left camp. You were hoping I would come find you, were you not?”

“Maybe.” You try not to give in, but he feels too good- too warm, too comforting. His teeth shine in the moonlight when he laughs and your belly tightens.

“Ah, I knew it. You missed me.”

You raise a brow and stare at him defiantly: “You have lacked in battle recently. I thought you might need to be… replenished.”

“And that was the only reason, was it?” As he leans closer to you, you step back, one, two, three steps until your back is pressed up against a tall fir tree. “You were worried about my… performance?”

“Yes,” you whisper. His lips are so close to yours you can feel his breath on your face. Your eyes flutter shut as you let your head fall to the side to expose your neck.

“Liar.” Astarion sounds amused by your weak attempts to defy him. “You missed me- you missed the way I make you feel.”

His lips descend onto your neck in a way that feels nearly like worship. You suppress a sigh at the sensation - gods, you have missed this more than you should have. He smells so good, despite the rough days you have been having, and the way his hands pull at you makes you shiver all over, tiny fire of desire exploding on your bare skin where he touches you.

“I was thinking…” he mumbles. “Your neck seems a bit… sore. Maybe we should grant you some reprieve.”

“I’m fine.” Your answer is too fast, and Astarion’s chuckle makes your heart beat faster.

“Of course you are, little pet. I’ve kept my promise after all, haven’t I?” His tongue flicks at the tiny scars his teeth have left in your neck and you bite your lip to cut off a moan. Your body quivers, though, your back arching for a split-second before you regain control. Astarion’s smile is audible in his voice. “Even if you don’t want to admit it, your body has missed me, my love. I think it’s time we stopped pretending, don’t you?”

“Stopped pretending what?” Your voice is breathless, and all you can do is hope that he might mean what you so desperately hope he means.

Astarion’s lips lift from the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Why, pretend you don’t want me, of course.” He says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe, it is. “Pretend like you don’t need me just as much as I need you. Did you think you could hide how your pulse quickens when I touch you? The flush in your cheeks, your little breaths… Your body betrays you, little pet. You have been careful, my darling, but not as careful as you might think you have been. All those small noises you thought I couldn’t hear… tsk.”

He shakes his head. You chew on your lower lip, anxiously waiting for his reaction to your not so secret secret. A coppery taste floods your mouth and you realise you must have broken the skin of your lip by worrying it.

You raise your finger to wipe away the drop of blood, but your hand is caught by a pale one. Astarion inhales sharply, his body pressing up against you, his thigh slotting between yours as easily as if it had always belonged there. The rough bark of the tree presses into your back and you become acutely aware how trapped you are by Astarion’s arms in a way that turns the spark of arousal in your belly into a full blown fire.

Astarion’s thumb paints circles on the back of your hand as he stares at the drop of blood on your lip intently, hypnotised by the dark red sliver of pain against your skin.

His voice is gravelly in a way you have never heard before, and you shiver when he raises his hand to smear the blood until it covers your lips.

“Mhh.” He cocks his head. “That’s better, my love. Perfect rosy lips for my perfect little pet. Oh- don't look at me like that, darling, it’s alright. Does it hurt? Let me help you with that…”

It’s not a kiss, not really. His mouth meets yours desperately, licking at the small wound where your lip split. You tell yourself it’s not a kiss, but your body reacts like it is anyways. Your nerve endings light up in a fiery cascade of pleasure, and your hands fly up to Astarion’s waist, pulling him closer into you.

His tongue licks at you and your lips part easily, but he does not take the opportunity. Instead, he laughs quietly as he pulls back.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” He sounds content with himself in a way that would infuriate you if you were not so turned on right now.

You ashamedly stare down at your boots. And you nod.

Astarion’s finger tilts your chin up gently until you have to raise your head and look him in the eye.

“Don’t look away, my darling.” He strokes your cheek. “There is no need to be ashamed. You should have told me earlier that this was what you really wanted… mixing pleasure and pain is always a good idea, sweet thing.”

“I wasn’t- I mean, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Don’t lie to me now, little pet. You know I can always tell.” His lips are so close to yours it feels like you can taste him already, his eyes dark and fiery even in the dim light of dusk. “What do you want? Be honest with me now.”

Your hands bury in his hair almost of their own volition, soft silver curls tangling between your fingers.

“Kiss me,” you whisper. “Please.”

You sound desperate, but you cannot bring yourself to care. Not as Astarion exhales, and closes the distance between you. His lips taste of your blood, bitter and coppery, but his tongue in your mouth is the sweetest honey. By the gods, he is good at what he does - soft noises falling from his mouth, his hard body pressing against you. His thumb rests against the pulse point of your neck, right where he left you scarred, and you feel like you are floating.

When he finally pulls back, you are both out of breath. His lips shimmer red from the blood on your own, and you can feel his desire - he looks at you like you are the most delicious meal he has ever seen after starving for years.

Maybe you are.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asks, his voice quiet and commanding. “What is it that you really desire, sweet thing?”

“I want you,” you admit, hating how your voice breaks even between those two words. “You may… need me, but I have come to realise I need you too. It’s not… you- I mean…”

“What is it, my darling? Use your words.” The gentle encouragement mixed with just the vaguest tint of mockery goes straight to your core and you curse your body for being so weak.

“I… I know this began as a favour,” you start, unsure of how to phrase what has been growing between you in such a short time. “But I… you know, it’s not just that anymore. Not for me. I… I like it.”

Your confession makes heat rise to your cheeks, and you bite your lip. Astarion stares at you, uncharacteristically lost for words, so you drone on.

“I like doing this for you- I like knowing I am helping you, I like knowing that you feel better- that you have become stronger because of me. I like seeing that your hands don’t shake so much anymore, and I like seeing you smile across the battlefield. It makes me happy- you make me happy. And you know, the pain fades after a while. I actually find it… quite… well, enjoyable. The way I feel when you drink from me… gods, Astarion, it’s indescribable.”

The flood of words spills from your lips like you have been holding it in for months, not days. Astarion still just stares at you, dumbfounded by your confession. Finally, he clears his throat.

“You… like it?” It sounds more like a question.

Gently, you take his hand into yours.

“Yes,” you confirm, smiling at him softly. “I’ve loved seeing you happy.”

“You- oh.” A plethora of emotions plays out on Astarion’s face in mere fractions of a second. You watch him intently. Finally, he clears his throat. “Well, I… I really don’t know how to respond to this. You, my love, are simply… incredible.”

Your smile grows broader.

“Why, thank you. I’m glad you finally noticed.”

A small smile appears on Astarion’s face at your teasing remark.

“I have been happier, haven’t I,” he muses. “I haven’t really… been happy in so long, I never noticed until you pointed it out.”

You worry your lip, but decide not to press him about it.

“I’m glad I can give you something,” you simply say.

Astarion’s hand holds yours a little tighter.

“You give me more than I have ever dreamed of,” he murmurs. A devilish smile darkens his features as his eyes wander up and down your body. “I think it’s about time I give something back, don’t you think, my darling?”

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

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Hmmmm he is consuming my brain (much like the tadpole hshsh get it) ANYWAYS I am way too emotionally invested in him I support his evil. He has actively made me worse and I love him for it.

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