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boolger · 2 months ago

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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 4

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi .Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 7.1k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: sorry for the wait, life challenged me to a knife duel and then I had do go on a workshop and such, bc I’m still unemployed. Also I got sick. Still kinda am. I’ll fix spelling mistakes tomorrow. Read the tags and if you don’t like how this fic is going, stop reading it.

Anyways. Enjoy sinners. Behave. 💖 Consider supporting my coffee addiction on ko-fi bc I’m a good girl and I updated.

The shed was filled with sounds, though nothing had to do with the work of the hybrids. The only thing they were working on was breaking you.

You felt like you were on fire; both from anger and from the pleasure of Soap’s way too skilled tongue. He was fucking you with it, real nasty about it as he forced a finger in next to it, growling into your wetness, seemingly trying to drink up any slick leaving you. His free hand kept your tail out of the way.

Caught in your own personal, rather sexual, hell.

You had almost given up on getting free. Gaz was still pressing your wrists down against the mattresses, tongue out as he wagged his tail, drool dripping down on your chest. Then he grabbed your wrists in one hand, which you could still not break out of, annoyingly so; only to pull up the crop-top that Price had chosen for you earlier.

That got Soap’s attention who barked happily into your pussy which made you growl - but you were distracted by the two fingers suddenly added to the first, to really care about your tits being out. He spread the fingers a little, tail wagging behind him, ears moving to pick up all your sounds.

You didn’t get more than that, fingers out before you could take a proper breath.

You growled intensely but there was no mercy; he forced his cock into your poor, dripping hole while you howled with pain - the three idiots daring to mockingly join in on your howl.

Full… in a different way than usual. It was as if your world stopped moving. This - this wasn’t your owner, this was just three brutes he had let into your life. When you had cried and whined about not wanting to live here, you didn’t mean for him to try to fix it with these 3.

Their cocks would never be as nice as John’s.

Hell, you would even take Nik’s.

Soap pulled back a little, before he trusted inside again a little harder than before. A little whimper left you, your eyes closing, trying your hardest to ignore the sparkles you saw behind your eyelids.

His knot, though not fully expanded in any way, pressed against your pussy; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been knotted. You didn’t remember it being a nice one either.

Each thrust made a wave of hate and pleasure run through you and sounds left you at each of them. Your ears tipped back, writhing in the grip of the hybrids.

Worse? They both seemed to get off of it.

They made out above you, Gaz’ bulge pressed against your face, as you watched them kiss each other with an intense heat, nose bumping together in every one of Soap’s thrusts, that hit so deep inside you wailed at every one of them.

Ghost was behind Soap suddenly, grabbing onto his Mohawk and forcing his head back a little.

“C’mon pup, fuck her better than that,” the bigger man snarled and Soap’s thrusts easily became faster, more desperate; his strong fingers digging into the fat of your thighs so hard, that you knew it was a matter of moments before his claws would pierce though your skin.

There were three pair of eyes staring at you as your moans and sobs intertwined into a mess, making you feel smaller than you had for a while.

“Look at you now,” Gaz crooned, his fingers palming your tits, pressing his bulge against your face a little again, “much more sweet now, huh?”

“Sh- uh - ah fuck - shut up.”

Gaz merely snickered at your attempt and as you tried moving your face to nip at his bulge, he easily moved back and slapped your cheek.

It didn’t help in any way that Soap decided to touch your clit in that exact moment. Pain bloomed in your cheek, while pleasure bloomed in your pussy, the little shed filling with lewd and loud sounds of the fucking.

Soap was fucking you so hard and good that it made you whine and howl a little in between your pathetic moans and growls.

Gaz’ grip tightened on you as you fought - a scream left you as Soap leant forward, one hand brutally attacking your clit with clumsy, energetic fingers while he decided to sink his teeth into your shoulder.

It wasn’t a soft bite. In fact, it continued to press into your skin, the fangs pressing deeper and deeper, before it snapped; teeth buried into your skin, breaking the barrier. Together with the thrusts and assault on your clit continuously, it seemed to be what your body had needed.

You came almost silently, twitching and cramping, Soap fucking you through it, growling while his teeth was buried in your skin. It was like everything became white with the intensity of the many feelings all at once, your mind leaving your body for a couple of seconds.

Then, as you felt your mind finally returning, another thing happened… Soap pushed fully in, like the bastard he was! Knot a little expanded, he pushed into your cunt, forcing you to take it.

It was too much; you sobbed with horror and pleasure as his knot fully expanded, effectively binding the two of you together. You could feel his cum fill up your insides, feel the way his cock twitched, Soap moaned and even more seed was forced into you. Your only relief was knowing the implant you had, at least stopped them from knocking you up.

Soap finally let go of you, blood dripping from his mouth like he was a feral animal, hands holding you down as you wailed, trying to get away from the knot. It was too much, too much.

“Bonnie lass,” the mutt crooned at you, leaning forward to run his bloody tongue along your cheek, laughing as you tried biting his hearing aid - before running his tongue over the wound he had left.

He rubbed his head against you like a desperate animal, as if he was a cat and not a dog hybrid, nuzzling against your armpits, even licking them, get his bloody spit all over you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Nikolai entered, it was like all the flowers inside John’s stomach bloomed; the other man easily had all his attention, even if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Didn’t Princess give you the phone?”

“Da - but she said you need mechanic and that is lie,” Nikolai answered, sitting down on the desk that barely creaked beneath him, “I am here - no need for mechanic.”

“Oh, you suddenly know how to fix tractors too?” John couldn’t help but let some of his disbelief seep through his words, making Nikolai snort.

“I do - planes too, if you have one of those, my friend.”

There was an odd peaceful silence in between the two of them; none of them said anything but John felt Nik’s eyes on him nonetheless, undressing him in his mind. The urge to fill this silence with their moans wer— wait.

Silence?

John blinked, listening for another moment for one of his puppy’s dramatic sighs but as none came, looking towards the door, expecting you to be annoyed with having to have left the house… nothing. He looked at Nikolai again, unable to keep the nervousness from his voice.

“Where’s sweetheart?”

Nikolai chuckled darkly, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Playing with the other dogs.”

“… I highly doubt that.” John almost rolled his eyes as he spoke. If there was one thing you had made sure was known ever since they arrived, was that you didn’t want to spend time with them.

“Well, they’re playing with her then,” Nikolai shrugged as John hurried to open one of the apps on his phone, running through the options until he reached the camera in the dog shed. Where his precious puppy were.

Crying and screaming, twisting even as pleasure overtook you, the others too much for you.

Dark want rushed through Price, as he saw them sink their teeth into your soft skin, heard you shriek out another curse and cry bloody murder; the want was overtaken by feeling bad for even putting you in that situation.

“I should go look—“

His phone was taken from his hand as Nikolai then pulled him close; flushed against each other, Nik’s front pressed against his back… cock slowly filling.

“Net,” he rumbled, “you need to stay here.”

“They’ll be too rough,” John argued, watching with both delight and fear as they made you came, “I nee—“

He was pulled into Nik’s lap without warning, the man sitting down in the office chair with a little sigh; his strong hands on John’s own body, sliding beneath the knitted sweater, grabbing onto some of his skin.

“It will be good for her,” Nikolai promised darkly, breathing deeply against John’s neck, as if to take in his taste, “this is why you got them, eh?”

It was; at least, it had been one of the reasons. As much as he loved you, you couldn’t control his life and he had changed everything around the two of you already - it was only fair he made sure you were taken care of too.

“They’ll break ‘er skin,” he muttered, already feeling his cock hardening like a traitor, distracted from the sight of the pups absolutely ruining you, by Nikolai’s warm, rough hands beneath his clothes.

“We will fix her,” Nikolai easily replied, scraping his teeth along John’s neck, as if he was considering doing the same, “let them play- they need to establish hierarchy.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Soap’s knot finally deflated you tried turning away from him, getting on your knees; only for Gaz to push your upper body down again, a hand pressing down between your shoulder blades.

Soap’s tail was thumping against the barely made nest and though he clearly looked blissed out, he still helped Gaz, pressing your head down against the mattress, even as you tried getting away. Scratching at the mattress with your fingers.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Gaz crooned lovingly, “this is what I’ve been dreaming off.”

You growled against the fabric, trying to move away, but his fingers sank into your hips, claws once again pressing dangerously hard into your skin.

His cock filled you up with a couple of thrusts, slower than soap’s intense one; as if he was taking his time enjoying you. A deep huff of pleasure left him and you barked, trying to scratch at Soap.

It earned you a hard slap on the ass, taking you by surprise - and then the thrusts came suddenly and quickly. There was no mercy and you began crying again. The mixed hybrid was growling deeply, moving so that he was fully pressed against your back - hands grabbing your wrist pressing them against the nest.

Then he fucked you. The thrusts were short and sharp, he didn’t pull out as far as Soap had, but it was like a constant hammering instead, without any kind of relief from the pressure. He sniffed and panted into your neck while you wailed - and then he did the same as Soap had.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, fangs pressing deep and breaking skin, and for the second time, you were bitten. Only, Gaz let go much quicker, barking at your cries, before repeating his action.

Never stopping his movement.

No words could leave you. It was animalistic sounds, created from the chaos that the hybrids had forced into your mind, blending hatred and lust together.

It sent shivers down your spine as you tried to drown out Gaz’ words about your ass, about you being a little silly lapdog, about being too spoiled to shut up and accept things didn’t have to go your way.

It felt like he went on forever and you managed to come twice, the second one squirting - which meant you got Soap all up in your business, pushing himself in between Gaz fucking you, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst.

It made you attempt to squirm away, his face being pressed against your clit every thrust, together with Gaz’ balls. Gaz was drooling, slobbering all over your shoulders and sinking his teeth into your skin, new places and into your already broken skin.

Chaotic and wrong, moans sept into your threats, promising you would mess them up, which they barely seemed to notice. As if they knew you were more bark than bite, which wasn’t exactly wrong. Soap finally pulled away and Gaz pressed his slightly expanded knot inside you, before pulling it out again, before repeating the motion again and again.

Then Soap was suddenly in your face, pulling your head up by your ears, making you cry out, kissing you slobbingly and intensely - and for once, you proved that you could bite, sanded down teeth or not.

Soap pulled back with a yelp, then a grin appeared on his face a moment later, his own blood mixing into yours, dripping from his lip, as you growled at him.

Of course the crazy pup liked it.

Every time Kyle forced his knot inside again, you cried - every time he forced it out you wailed, gripping the sheets harder, tugging at them while you found yourself screaming, begging for him to just knot you properly. To stop torturing you like that and apparently, it was what Kyle had wanted to hear.

One last time, he forced it inside and pressed further into you than before, almost putting his entire body weight on you; you moaned and whimpered as it got stuck, his cum forced into your womb, just like Soap had done. He continued rolling his hips in small motions, making you sob into the sheet, closing your eyes. Then he bit down yet another time, another spurt of cum inside you.

He gnawed a little on your shoulder like a chew toy and all you could think about was how you would rather have John do this to you.

The pain from everything made you space out, panting into the mattress, sniffling a little. Ignoring the tongues running over your shoulders and neck, how they cooed at you.

Good little puppy. A good bitch now, aren’t you? Knew ye could behave, bonnie lass, just needed some knots. Dinnae throw a fuss. Stupid lil city dog, aren’t ya?

Kyle tugged you and tipped the two of you to the side, ignoring the way you cried out as his knot tugged.

Minutes went by as you waited for the knot to go down, trying your best to remain calm.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You felt sore all over, arms shaking as you tried raising your upper body, wincing at the cum sliding out of you and the way the bite marks stung. You weren’t just worried they had broken skin anymore, you knew they had. Blood was dripping down your arms, in between the already dried and caked parts, only making you feel more horrible.

Your beautiful, beautiful body - your skin. Those brutes! Curse them! Sons of bitches, all of them.

You felt pathetic, needy, weak; never wanting to leave the farm house again.

Gaz lazily barked at you as you tried getting up, but he was laying next to you, clearly blissed out, so you used the moment to escape… or at least attempted to.

A large hand pushed down on your back, the weight pushed upon you, forcing you down with a squeal - Ghost let out a deep growl as a reply.

The moment the hand was away, you scrambled, hearing his knees hit the mattress behind you. Ghost seemingly didn’t care that you tried slipping between his fingers; he merely grabbed your tail and tugged you back, hard. Ignoring your sob of pain, continuing to growl deeply, trying to force his dominance down upon you.

As if there was any question of who was the one in charge here. The sound of a zipper.

“No - fuck, let go, no more, no more!” You attempted pathetically, tears springing to your already puffy eyes, “I can’t - no more!”

“Yes you can,” Ghost just rumbled darkly, Soap and Gaz letting out small barks in support.

You fought him but it didn’t matter.

One hand on your hip, having a tight grab on some of your fat, the other sliding to your front, grabbing your throat - forcing you up on your knees. Your back pressed against his front, his cock thrusting in between your thighs a couple of times.

You cried at the mere sight of the cock in between your thighs. Yes, you were a size queen but not to brutes like them. Mutts, idiots, assholes, working dogs, hounds —

His fat cock entered you in one thrust, making you scream, desperately trying to wiggle away. Any movements merely made the cock slide in a little more, the knot pressing against your hole. Your scream turned silent as he gave a little thrust, your mind going blank, body giving small twitches. Much to the amusement of Ghost if you had to guess from the way he chuckled. Tongue licking your human ear. Gaz was staring with big eyes, Soap panting, drool dripping from his tongue.

You whined. He hadn’t even moved that much, but it felt like the cock was in your throat.

“Look at you, puppy,” he crooned darkly, “all you needed was some knots to shut up, huh?”

You couldn’t reply with anything but a few messy moans and Ghost gave a little thrust more, bullying his cock a little deeper,almost making your eyes cross.

“See how good you can be, hm?” Ghost continued, “tight pussy just needed to be fucked dumb. You’re much sweeter now.”

His hand tightened around your neck, pressing your tags on the collar into your skin. His palm pushed at your chin a little with its size.

“Don’t worry,” Ghost continued, before nosing your shoulder a little, a pitiful cry leaving you as his tongue slid over some of the bleeding, burning bite marks, “we can fuck you whenever ye want, princess. Perfect, innit?”

You tried shaking your head, but then Ghost let go, pushing your upper body down again- you barely managed to save yourself from slamming your head into the mattress.

There was no more waiting. He just grabbed onto your hips, pulled out his cock as far as possible and began to fuck you mercilessly.

Hard, commenting about the way your body jiggled and how lucky they were to end up somewhere with a soft bitch like you; how they would get you used to their cocks, addicted to them. How they would knock you up. Give you all the litters you wanted.

You hated how good it felt, how you cried and moaned, how your body shook and how you came. Unable to escape, crying and barking, ears tipped back.

He delivered a last bite right onto the back of your neck, as he forced his knot inside your poor pussy, filling you up; sinking his fangs into you, breaking the skin as you screamed and came once more, filled up with his knot. Cum unable to escape.

You sobbed into the mattress while stuck to Ghost, who grumbled but didn’t hit you. Gaz and Soap were cooing at you again, licking away tears and nuzzling closer, telling you how good you looked, how much fun you all were going to have.

Then you could hear them kissing above you, but you didn’t look, mind overwhelmed.

It was like you were hot all over; it had been years since you had had a heat and you feared, just for a moment, that your body would spontaneously go into one, from the knotting and biting, the breeding behavior you had just gone through.

It was the familiar feeling of warmth spreading from your chest to your cunt, Ghost growling slightly as you tightened around his knot from the feeling. You were pretty sure your implant was going to save you. Hopefully. The idea of getting knocked up by them right now almost made you want to throw a fit.

But beneath them, being beneath Ghost at the moment, throwing a tantrum would bring you nothing. His clothes pressed against your bare body, save from the top that was pushed beneath your tits, felt too hot.

The shed stunk of sex, blood and sweat. You pretended you didn’t like how the musky, male hybrid scent wasn’t slightly nice. How a little part of you wanted to lick away the sweat drops beneath Ghost’s chin.

Nasty, they were all nasty and you hated them.

You didn’t get up, even as his knot deflated. Ghost rumbled, clearly pleased. Licking at your neck a couple of times.

Then, some of the horses neighed loudly. All three of them stiffened, while you laid there, cum dripping out of you, not caring.

“I’ll go check it out,” Ghost answered, getting up, zipping up as if it was as easy as that. Giving your ass a clap that made your pussy clench around nothing.

The moment he was out the door you were stumbling to your feet, managing to grab John’s jacket. Soap’s tail wagged and he barked, getting up himself - but Gaz held him back.

“Nah, let her run back ‘nd whimper, Soap.”

You didn’t stay to hear the reply. You just bolted to the house, jacket barely on, naked from the waist down. Feet sinking slightly into the muddy parts of the farm, towards the door you had been thrown out earlier.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were a crying mess, John cooing at you, drying your tears with a worried look in his eyes, while Nik seemed more calm. They both stank of sex but you were too upset to care. Humiliation from not being able to escape them, the need to be cared for, to be loved was overwhelming.

They made you bend over the couch at first, Nik’s fingers pressing into you, John softly hushing you as you cried.

“No tear,” he confirmed a moment after, pulling his fingers out, with a soft pat on your ass.

“Let’s get you a bath, princess.” You nodded while whining, clinging onto Nik as he lifted you up.

“We might need to get those checked out,” Nik nodded towards your shoulders and back and you looked over at John, who didn’t look too happy. Even Nik, who was much more calm, didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic despite how he hadn’t stepped in earlier.

The water in the tub was nice. Usually you would fight a little when it came to showers, but you were putty in their soft hands, carefully helping you get free of mud, dried blood and cum.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Alex Keller and Farah Karim appeared just around ten minutes later, parking in the big driveway, near the barn. They had apparently just visited Rudy and Rodolfo, or at least so you heard them talking about in the entrance.

Normally you would be barking at the mere door opening, curiosity overwhelming over who could give you attention now.

You were laying on your stomach on the couch, wearing panties and with a blanket over you, fur and hair still a little damp.

“There she is,” Farah mused as she entered the living room, taking in your otherwise quiet demeanor in contrast to your usual intense one, “poor puppy got all messed up, huh?”

A barely audible growl left you.

“Cut her some slack, Farah,” Alex said, following after her, his new fancy prosthetic leg that was electrical, saying a soft noise you assumed wasn’t something the humans could hear.

“He won’t send them away,” you just replied, sending John a stink eye, which made Nik chuckle while John at least looked a little upset about it.

“We will teach them to be gentle,” Nik mused to which you huffed, because that wasn’t helping one bit.

“Let us see then,” Farah said, stepping over to the couch, while Alex followed, putting their bags down on the table.

You sat up, turning your back towards them, pulling the blanket down to expose your bites, both of the vets stepping closer.

Alex let out a little whistle. Your ears tipped back a little.

“That is some nasty bites,” Farah agreed and you could hear them put on plastic gloves. Despite your anger towards your owner right now, you sent John a desperate look - and the man was with you in mere seconds, one hand gently holding onto your collar, the other caressing your dog ear, in an attempt to calm you down. You hated how it instantly helped. You didn’t really have good memories with vet visits despite knowing Farah and Alex were always sweet and careful with you.

At the first touch of a gloved hand near your bite, you moved instantly, grabbing onto John’s arm with a whine.

“Sorry lovely,” Farah apologized, “we’ll have to clean them up - I’m afraid two of them might need a stitch or two.”

“We’ll numb the area first, don’t worry,” Alex was quick to add in a softer tone.

If this didn’t prove to John and Nik that the hybrids shouldn’t be near you, you didn’t know what would.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Farah and Alex left half an hour later, with you being prescribed antibiotics and painkillers.

Nik and John spoke in hushed voices while you watched television, John having given you some snacks.

“Nik and I are going to town, Princess,” John said a moment later, entering the room to give you another pat on the head, “we’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“What if they go in here-“ you whined, “I wanna go, I wanna-“

“Hush. You can’t rip the stitches, you’re staying here. We’ll lock the door, Laswell will make sure you’re left alone, alright?”

“MmKay.”

You stayed in the living room most of the day, watching rom coms and reality television. Nothing like watching two hybrids fall in love, but not being allowed to meet, their owners despising each other.

When your owner and Nik returned, they had brought several things - most importantly, some nicely baked cake for you, as a treat. Your tail wagged while eating it. If you closed your eyes, it was like you were back in the city again.

Imagining you weren’t out in the country, that you were in a fancy apartment and not an old farmhouse; that the sounds in the background was the music of the city and not—

The sounds of a cow mooing. You huffed, took another bite, closing your eyes and daydreamed once more.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Go on, then.”

You blinked at John’s voice, sterner than last time, for a moment afraid if you’d done anything wrong. The painkillers were making you a little slow, so you blinked a couple of times, before you were able to focus your eyes on the people in the living room.

And instantly tip your ears back in a growl at the sight of the three hybrids, John and Nik standing behind them.

“Go away.” You growled, to which Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes and shooting John a look. John merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. As if to dare him to not follow the order they’ve been told.

“I’m sorry that I hurt ye, cuilean. I dinnae mean tae. Nae this badly.” It was Soap who said it first, actually looking apologetic as you laid there on the couch, staring at them, Gaz nodding along.

“Yeah sorry,” Gaz’ ears were tipped down, tail even a little between his legs, “we won’t bite you again like that, I swear, we never meant to hurt you.”

You wanted to get them castrated. Despise not really liking their apologies, you looked over at Ghost then, waiting. The big guy didn’t say anything, just stared at you - that was until Soap elbowed him in the ribs, the pale man finally grunted out; “Sorry sweetheart.”

John looked expectantly at you, a small smile on his face, as if to say ‘look! They can be good!’. You scrunched your eyebrows together in a frown. That was it?

You deserved poems, movies, dances, songs, art pieces created in a mere attempt of apologising properly.

“I still hate you.”

It made Soap laugh, grinning with all his teeth, while John groaned behind them, touching his face. Nik seemed amused too however.

“Good enough for now. We will work on bonding later, da?”

“They can bond with each other,” you answered, curling together on the couch, “bite each other to pieces.”

“We apologized,” Ghost argued in a dry voice, as if he barely believed in it himself.

“Fuck off.”

Ghost smiled at your stubbornness, before letting John kick them into the kitchen so that they could be fed before being sent out again.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your time with them was limited for a couple of days, much to your enjoyment. You got extra attention, John and Nik were careful around you — John did eat you out on the third day, when you became frustrated, Nik cooed at you in Russian as you came. Even Laswell was a little nicer to you.

You got scratches beneath your chin, kisses and touches and the pain meds helped stop the thundering pain from the bite marks, which were at least healing nicely.

You slept at your master’s - and his boyfriend’s - feet, leisuring around the house while they worked throughout the day.

Apparently the military bastards knew how to do their jobs, at least. They stopped and caught a fox before it got a chicken, kept the wolves at bay and helped throughout the day. They made sure to watch at night, too apparently.

Then it was rainy one day… and it rained a lot that night. It seemed to never end and when you were called to eat breakfast, you had assumed the working dogs were out. But they weren’t.

In fact, two of them stood in the doorway, close to the dinner table, watching as their third pack mate, Soap, quietly sat on the bench while Nikolai and John looked him over. They all had damp hair and Gaz’s and Ghost’s boots were covered in mud, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. Dirty mutts.

“Good morning bird,” Gaz greeted, looking over you and smiling as you coughed so that they would move. They did so and you stepped into the kitchen, not answering the greeting.

It was only when you passed him that Soap looked up and grinned at you.

“Hiya bonnie lass,” his words sounded… slurred in a way. A tad too loud, but his tail was thumping at the sight of you. You huffed, looking at Nikolai as he sighed and put down a piece of tech you didn’t know.

“I’m afraid you need to fix by professional,” Nikolai said, looking at John, “it’s all completely ruined.”

“Hm, that’s what I figured,” John said, “alright. We’ll go get it done today, just so he can feel better soon.”

“Gonna do what?” You asked as you sat down at your common spot, looking confused for a moment - then Nikolai pointed to the technology that was dripping with water and mud.

“Soap’s hearing aid is broken,” Nik replied, “we have to get a new one.”

“You guys can go out and help Laswell - I’m gonna go to town together with Soap and—“

Growls.

You tried making yourself smaller, even though they weren’t raised towards you.

“We’re not leaving him.”

“What is dae matter?” Soap’s voice was loud, as his head turned from person to person.

John was staring at Ghost who had crossed his arms.

“It won’t take long,” John replied but Ghost just growled again.

“No.”

“Ghost,” John’s voice was kept calm but steady, “Soap’s not going to get hurt. We will get him fitted for one and find a kind that fits him the best - then we’ll come back. Bringing you two along won’t be necessary.”

Ghost didn’t look one bit convinced but John turned towards Soap anyways, leaning closer to his human ear on the left side of his face.

“You’ll need new hearing aids,” he explained, voice loud and words clear, “Nikolai and I will take you to town to get them fixed.”

He pulled back and Soap looked confused but nodded.

“I dinnae want to make trouble,” he promised, ears tipping back a little, “I can make it work!”

John shook his head, giving Soap a small smile before reaching up and giving his head a pat. His tail instantly began to wag again.

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” John answered, keeping his voice loud, “it’s okay. You would need new ones eventually.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

John and Nikolai left after breakfast, with the herding dog in the backseat, muzzle on his face - just in case.

You had forgotten the fact Soap had lost some of his hearing, though you had noticed the hearing aid now and again.

Ghost and Gaz didn’t seem one bit happy with their bonded mate leaving, even though they knew he would be back. Laswell was using them though, making them help fix things, so you dared to relax again, enjoying the little sun ray that hit one of your dog beds perfectly.

The peace and quiet that you had enjoyed and the lack of attempts at being forced to spend time with the men was seemingly coming to an end, at least for one specific pup.

Soap was back, giant grin on his face but no hearing aids, since they apparently decided to buy a fancy kind that had to be shipped to the clinic in the nearest town.

Which meant Soap was in house rest for the next couple of days.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

At first Soap left you alone, merely staying close but not messing with you. He slept in one of your dog beds, muttering - or at least trying to - about how nice and soft it was.

All you could think about was that it needed to get washed, because you weren’t sleeping in something that stank of him. You even suspected he jerked off into the fuzzy fabric. Nasty.

John had merely told you to be nice and share when you complained; that Soap wasn’t used to being indoors like this, wasn’t used to remaining still and not having something to do - that he didn’t like not being able to hear.

You tried, at least a little, to be overbearing, making it rather visible when he got too close and you didn’t like it.

He would disappear now and again to see his mates, and come back with a wagging tail, salvia wet lips and a pleased smile on his face.

As long as he kept his distance.

It was on the second day however, when taking a nap in your own room, in the fuzzy, soft dog bed, that the mutt caught you off guard.

You slowly woke to a nice and pleasurable feeling, letting out a deep pleased sigh as you blinked a couple of times, slightly confused over what was making you feel this way. Of why your legs felt slightly cold. Only to blink a couple of times, half lidded eyes looking down — seeing Soap with his dirty paws on you, tongue halfway into your cunt.

His tail was wagging, ears turning towards you and he didn’t even stop when he realized you had woken up. If anything, he just quickened his tongue’s movement, thrusting it into your cunt, tightening his hands on your thighs.

“‘S okay, Bonnie lass,” he cooed, a slight slurred tone to his voice as he pulled back a little, tongue and slick dripping from his mouth and chin, before he crawled up to you. You didn’t have time to protest, the bigger hybrid settling in behind you, the lack of his own pants clear as he settled against your back, his cock pressing against your asscheeks. His hands slid around your body, holding you close and letting out a deep breath as if the both of you just woke from the nap.

You twitched slightly and he kissed you cheek, “dinnae throw a fit, please,” he mumbled against it, voice still a little loud.

“I will yell for master,” you warned with a growl. The other just let out a “mhmm,” in agreement and you weren’t really sure whether he had truly heard your threat or not. Even if he had, you weren’t sure if it would have stopped him.

Despite your confused and tired attempt at pulling free, squirming and attempting to claw at whatever you could reach, it was no help.

His cock slid into your pussy, which was looser than you liked. Your eyes rolled back for a moment and Soap let out a deep growl, that sounded more pleased than anything.

You writhed, unable to help it, the cock hitting you so well, which you didn’t like. Well, you liked it, the pleasure, but you didn’t want to give in.

You cried out at a deeper thrust, Soap moaning as well; it started deep in his chest and turned more high pitched, more needy. He was careful with your shoulders, keeping you pressed so close you couldn’t move them. The stitches were almost ready to come out and though there was a slight pain, it was not too much.

He fucked you better than you liked, whimpering behind you like a needy mutt in rut.

You couldn’t control your moans and cries, attempting to keep it down, to pretend you weren’t enjoying it. His thrusts were deep but quick, sending your mind spiraling. His knot teased your opening with each movement.

You moaned so loud it was bordering on a scream when he came, knotting you. Carefully licking your cheek, catching a few of your tears with a pleased hum.

It was barely a minute later before John opened the door quickly, looking worried, apron on, presumably making lunch - instantly looking at you. He blinked at the sight of you and Soap, before visibly calming, even smiling. How dared he, traitor, mea—

You let out a small sound as Soap wagged his tail, it thumbed against your bed quickly, making you mewl a little as the movement rushed through his hips and making his cock move, inside your cunt. The knot moving and pressing inside you, making you unable to breathe for a second, eyes rolling up.

Soap licked against your cheek and you pawed at his hands on you, ears tipped back a little.

“Horny pups,” said almost lovingly by Price who then patted your head, and you whined, annoyed by how you were stuck to Soap - or well, to his cock.

“Don’t like him, Sir,” you whined, using your best needy voice, ignoring Price’a raised eyebrow as another thrust made you gasp again.

“You seem to get along fine,” he just answered, patting Soap’s head to prove to the other man that it was fine - he moved Soap’s head to the side for a moment, taking a look at your shoulders, to make sure nothing was bleeding, “everything seems good. He can control himself then.”

“Castrate them,” you just replied, “cut off their dicks.”

John Price laughed. You still loved his laughter even if he didn’t understand your hatred for the mutts he had decided to add to the farm.

“When you get untangled, there’s lunch in the kitchen.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Farah and Alex returned to look at your wounds and remove your stitches, you felt your tail instantly go between your legs, ears down.

“It’s fine. I’m doing fine,” you argued, not making one move towards sitting down on the couch like last time. You knew Farah and Alex were only there to help you; however, you weren’t in pain like last, your mind saw no reason for them to be there. Surely the stitches would fall out or something?

“Princess,” your owner stepped towards you, your tail curling even further between your legs, “it’s fine, they’re gonna chec—“

You stumbled backwards, almost falling into Soap’s chest. He seemed confused at the sudden appearance of the two vets, who were smiling gently at the two of you. Yet when you curled around and behind him, he instantly straightened up.

You could hear Nik laugh. “They have been bonding!”

“Shut it, Nik,” John just answered while Alex huffed, your owner stepping closer, “darling, come on. We will be done in a minute.”

“They’ll file down my teeth.”

“Wha- no, of course they won’t, princess. You know I won’t let them do that.”

You sniffled, holding onto Soap’s shirt. There was a low growl from Soap.

You still very much hated him, but you could have kissed him.

“Dinnae.” Was all he said, slightly slurred and a little loud, but still. Body tense.

“She needs her stitches checked.” Farah’s voice cut through the room, loud and clearly not filled with patience, “we are here to clean them and remove them.”

Soap’s body language calmed down a little and you wanted to hit him, for giving up so easily. What kind of fucking safety was he supposed to offer when he gave in line this? Maybe you should just ask Farah to castrate him and the two other mutts while she was here.

“Sit,” John pointed towards the couch and Soap moved - pulling you by the arm, while you barked and argued a little.

In the end you curled up against him, John petting your hair, as they removed the stitches.

By now, everything seemed to be going as they should.

It wasn’t like when you got the fangs filed down or when you were declawed, but you were still afraid. Not that they could take much more from you.

Despite not liking either Farah or Alex being there, you still took the treat they offered you - managing to get it into your mouth before Soap could get too interested. He got his own and you didn’t like how both your tails wagged. But you allowed it for now.

The treat wasn’t as good as the weird one Nik had fed you the first day. You let out a dramatic sigh on the couch, making John roll his eyes - but he scratched your stomach a little before moving on, to do whatever it was farmers did.

You just ignored Soap, he was wagging his tail like a lovesick puppy next to you, sniffing your hair. You still hadn’t forgiven him or the others for anything.

His hearing aids came later that day. You kept your distance, watching Gaz and Ghost help him get it set up right, Nik and John right by them.

You wasn’t really upset that Soap went back outside… were you?

No. Not at all.

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bwabys-scenarios · 11 months ago

Note

helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

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joelscruff · 2 years ago

Text

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal fic #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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harrywavycurly · 1 month ago

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I liked the new killer!H update! I love how protective he is but we clearly don’t like him threatening people so I’m wondering if we’ve ever seen him actually get into a fight before? 😅

Hiii babes!! So I just went ahead and wrote something for this because yes, you’ve for sure seen him fight before(if you can even call this a fight lol) I hope you enjoy!!💖

-find all things Killer!Harry here✨

CW: Minor violence (broken wrist and black eye), threats of violence, language and mentions of drinking/being drunk, a quick reminder Harry is a killer in this series but it’s not mentioned at all in this!

A/N: Enjoy this little blurb that shows you and Harry out at a bar back when you are just dating and you see how far Harry is ready to go to keep you safe, this gets very dramatic very quickly but also has fluff and also no I do not condone violence, keep your hands and feet to yourself! ✨

“Baby.” Harry gives your hip a little squeeze as he leans down so his lips are next to your ear, you just let out a hum as you bring your drink up to your lips to take a sip. “M’gonna go get another drink I’ll be right back.” He smiles when you lean back into him, the two of you tucked in the corner of the local bar near the pool tables. He has his back resting against the wall with one hand on your hip while his other arm is resting on top of a high top table with a now empty glass in his hand, you stand in front of him using both hands to hold your glass as you watch Mitch play some random man in a game of pool.

“M’kay” You half mumble with a smile on your face as you feel his hand on your hip slide down to your lower back and gently push you to take a few steps forward allowing him to move from behind you.

“Don’t wonder off please.” He gives you a look that if you weren’t a few drinks in would’ve made you weak in the knees because it’s a mixture of seriousness but also a hint of something else that you can’t really put your finger on but you know you like it.

“Won’t move d’nt worry.” You reassure him but he just shakes his head and lets out a chuckle at how your words come out a little jumbled. You watch as he reaches over and pushes some of your hair back behind your ear before he leans in and places a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh I always worry about you love.” He casually admits making your cheeks get warm, still not used to the way Harry has no issue with telling you things like that at any moment even in the middle of a semi crowded bar on a Saturday night. “I’ll be right back.” He gives you a smile before he grabs his empty glass off the table and turns to head towards the bar.

You have a smile on your face as you watch him walk away and you can’t help but giggle when he looks at you over his shoulder and shoots you a playful wink when he catches you already staring at him. You find it hard to believe that the tall British tattooed man that currently is leaning his forearms on the bar as he talks to the bartender who happens to be his friend Jeff, is your boyfriend and has held that title for almost eight months. He’s different from anyone you’ve dated from the way he dresses in mostly black but every now and again he will venture out and wear a funky patterned shirt with his nicely tailored trousers, to the way he carries himself with such confidence that he sometimes can come off a bit intimidating, but the big thing that sets him apart from just about anyone else is how he always just seems to know what you need without you having to ask and when you casually brought it up to him he just shrugged it off and said something like “I just pay attention love, that’s all” and you nearly cried.

“Hey there.” You jump as a deep voice brings you out of your thoughts about your dream boat of a boyfriend, and you feel yourself tense up when you turn and see a man standing a little too close. “I’m Jake.” You just nod and give him a tight lipped smile as you try to look around him for Mitch who would be the closest person that would be able to help get you out of the current situation, but Jake takes a step closer and rests his hand on the table next to where you’re standing so he can lean in and whisper in your ear. “You look too pretty to be here all alone.”

“Uhm th-thank you but m’not alone.” You inform him making him raise an eyebrow as he looks around before looking back at you with a smirk.

“Sure looks like it to me.” You feel your eyes go wide as you watch Jake’s hand that’s not resting on the table reach for your cheek as if he was going to brush some hair out of your face but before he can you see a very familiar ring clad hand grab his wrist.

“What the fu-” Before what feels like you can even blink you hear a harsh snap followed by a loud squeal and then Jake is on his knees trying to get his wrist free from Harry’s grasp.

“Did my girlfriend tell you she wanted your grubby hand on her?” Harry asks with a cold and hard tone, all Jake can do is shake his head but that isn’t good enough for Harry so he bends his hand back so the top of Jake’s hand is being pushed towards his forearm. “Sorry I can’t hear you mate what was that?” He asks over the whine like sound that slips out of Jake’s mouth due to the pain he’s currently in.

“N-no no! No she didn’t!” Jake shouts making Harry just make a disapproving tisking noise as he shakes his head.

“Figured as much.” With that you hear Jake let out a sigh of relief as Harry lets go of his wrist but only so he can use that hand to deliver a solid punch to the side of his face making Jake fall onto his back. “If I see you anywhere near my girl again a broken wrist and a black eye will be the least of your worries.” He threatens as he watches Jake roll over onto his stomach with a groan.

You don’t know how long the whole ordeal took but it felt like only a few seconds before you have a hand on your forearm leading you away from the man still trying to recover from the damage done to his wrist and the punch to his face. Harry is quick to take your drink out of your hands and place it on a table near the back of the bar next to a bottle of water you didn’t even notice was in his other hand the whole time he was dealing with Jake. You don’t know why but that makes your bottom lip start to tremble and your eyes to get watery. Harry immediately sees your face and assumes your emotions are due to the shock of just seeing something violent happen right in front of you.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry.” Harry gently cups your face in his hands as he rests his forehead against yours and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m so sorry baby please don’t be upset.” His voice is soft as he pulls away so he can place a kiss to your forehead.

“You got-” you motion towards the table with your glass and the water bottle on it making Harry raise an eyebrow as he looks from the water bottle and back to you. “me a water.” You mumble with a sniffle as you feel a few tears slips past your waterline, Harry just gives you a warm smile as his thumbs swipe away the tears as they slide down your cheeks.

“I knew you’d need one.” He explains while leaning down to place kisses to your cheeks, of course he knew you’d need one because he always knows what you need. You reach out and place your hands on his chest feeling the softness of his t shirt on your palms. “Are you upset with me?” You know you should at least be a little upset at how he acted, but for some reason all you can think about is the way it made you feel seeing how he didn’t even hesitate to stop Jake from putting his hands on you and how angry it made him to see him even try. You realize as you stand there with his hands on your face that Harry always makes you feel safe, like when he’s around nothing bad can happen.

“You broke his wrist?” You catch a slight smirk appear on his face but only for a moment before he rubs his lips together as his hands slide down from the sides of your face to your neck and then to your shoulders.

“I did.” He confirms making you just nod as you reach a hand up and brush some of his out of his face. “And I also probably gave him a busted eyebrow to go with his black eye.” He adds with no hint of remorse or regret in his voice.

“Because he tried to touch me?” You feel Harry’s hands begin to gently rub the tops of your shoulders making your muscles begin to relax under his soothing touches.

“I don’t like it when creeps get too close to you.” He begins to explain as he pulls you a little closer to him. “I’m always going to protect you from assholes like that but I am sorry you had to see that. I shouldn’t have acted like that in front of you.” He looks into your eyes and you just give him a small smile as you grip his shirt to pull him towards you for a quick kiss.

“I like that you want to protect me.” Harry smiles at your words as he rests his forehead against yours. “But no more fighting okay?” You ask as you pull away from him so you can give him the sternest look you can muster in your half drunken state.

“Okay baby. No more fighting.” He answers before he leans in and places his lips on yours for a kiss that has you forgetting all about the incident that took place a few minutes ago as Harry moves a hand from your shoulder and places it on the back of your neck so he can slide it up into your hair and pull you closer to him. When he finally pulls away you feel light headed with kiss swollen lips as you rest your head on his chest making him chuckle as he gently runs his hand up and down your arm. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Harry.”

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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My life is falling apart - could you write how Ghost might save reader from her emotionally abusive and toxic husband? I thank you, maybe one day I'll have someone like Simon.

Whoever you are, I'm here for you if you need to talk. Stay strong sweetheart, this too shall pass. 💖

CW: Emotional abuse, toxic relationships, hurt/comfort, protective Simon Riley.

Simon had sneaked his way into your life with the same stealth he uses on missions— a man who barely spent any time at his apartment and was always away for what he said was just ''work''. The same man who after a few conversations, started bringing you small gifts from his missions, always something different that he thought you'd like.

Simon isn't dumb— far from it, he's always aware of his surroundings and throughout the years, he knows how to read people well. That's why it breaks him to see the way your smiles now came accompanied with a nervous look in your eyes whenever your husband was home, despite you and Simon simply being friendly towards one another.

Whenever he was back at his apartment, he started listening more and more. Paying even more attention to you, ear pressed against the wall while he listened to your husband berate you for a plethora of reasons, all of them more absurd than the other, the truth heavy on his shoulders, weighting him down like Atlas holding the sky.

Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to go inside your house and ravage your husband the same way he does so casually in the battlefield— but he can't. Simon Riley is not Ghost. Simon has to lay low, to ensure both his safety and yours, so he starts planning. Planning how to approach the issue, how to get you out of the situation and understand you better. He'd never admit it, but he spent the entire night reading the experiences of other married women when it comes to abusive marriages, restless dreams full of ideas on how in the bloody hell he'll get you out of this.

He waits until the next day once your husband leaves for work, waiting out five minutes that feel eternal just to make sure he doesn't come back. Unmasked and with very faint stains of eye black that he never seems to be able to fully remove, he knocks on your door. You answer with teary eyes, sniffling softly as you try your best to give him a small smile, yet he can see the pain. The same pain he saw in his mother's eyes his entire life.

''Simon!'' You greet, moving aside so he can enter your house, closing the door behind you as you both go to the living room.

''Would you like a cuppa?'' You offer and it takes him a few seconds to decide, ultimately nodding his head. Maybe this will be easier if you're both having a nice, warm drink. You come back minutes later with a tray and some crumpets, something you started buying when he casually mentioned liking them.

''Thank you.'' He takes a sip of the perfectly made chamomile tea, done the way he loves it— with two teaspoons of honey and hot. You give him a happier smile, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a secure blanket, a far cry from your marriage.

''Love...'' He begins and your full attention goes to him, noticing his serious tone and pensive expression.

''There's no easy way to say this, but with this place having thin walls, I sometimes hear things I shouldn't.'' You immediately know what he's talking about, but before you can apologize on behalf of your husband, he keeps speaking.

''You deserve so much better.'' He puts his cup down, eyes looking down to his hands— the hands he keeps ungloved just for you, the hands that are protected by his skull gloves whenever he's out in missions, so he can come back to you free of sin. He sits down next to you, one of his arms wrapping around your back reassuringly.

''Why are you still with him?'' There's a hint of desperation in his tone, thin eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. You want to look away, but his brown eyes are almost hypnotic. So expressive, so telling whenever words aren't enough.

''I... I don't know.'' You reply with honesty, tone strained as you hold back tears and try to dig into your brain for any reasons you're with the man, yet nothing comes up. ''I don't have anywhere else to go to.''

Your words hurt him as much as they hurt you, looking at the potential you have that is being wasted on some ungrateful wanker who berates you for the smallest things.

''Run away with me.'' He suggests in a spur of the moment and before he can even process his own words, a small giggle escapes your lips. He raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you, curious as to what's so funny. Your giggling stops when you notice the expression on his face.

''You're serious?'' You ask carefully, not wanting to make a fool of yourself despite knowing he'd never joke about something like that.

''I'm serious, love. We could go somewhere far away from here, safe. You can leave all of this behind, just say the word.''

''I...'' He can see your hesitancy, his warm hand rubbing circles on your back while the other one holds your hand, thumb rubbing the back of your hand reassuringly.

''What if he finds me?'' It's the first question that comes to mind, not wanting to deal with more of his abuse if you ever manage to get away.

''He won't, doll. I can promise you that. I'll get some of my mates to watch out for you when I'm busy at work, if it helps you.'' He knows it will, and he already has highly trusted friends from the 141 in mind to watch out for you whenever he goes on solo missions.

It took almost two hours of convincing before you agreed, and that's where you are now. He's helping you inform the police about your situation and why you're going away, just in case your husband tries to report you missing.

Most of your belongings were left at the house, but... it surprisingly doesn't bother you. It'll be a new beginning, the same furniture that has witnessed years of abuse is now left behind, only a few clothes inside his car while you both leave the police station. You take a deep breath, the warmth of the sun washing over your skin as you close your eyes, a sincere smile on your face for the first time in years.

''Thank you, Simon.'' My angel, my savior.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost fluff #hurt/comfort #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley fluff #ghost call of duty #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty #mw2 fluff #stray answers

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden.

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night.

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both.

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?"

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that."

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah."

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family."

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side.

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?"

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock."

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.

"He sent them flowers," she says.

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did."

"Fancy. Expensive."

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya."

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye.

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost."

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be."

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you."

"Grandma--"

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie.

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away.

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen.

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side?

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have.

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you.

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.”

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow.

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk.

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.”

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop.

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile.

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree.

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands.

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks.

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face.

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap.

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--”

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all.

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.”

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.”

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands.

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.”

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out.

“I know it won’t,” he says.

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No.

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.”

“What? It’s my first complaint--”

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.”

“Please, Luis, I need this job--”

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.”

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right?

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition.

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it.

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life.

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts.

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town.

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy.

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually.

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future.

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight.

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back.

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.”

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...”

“That’s... why would they--”

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.”

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going.

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects.

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--”

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.”

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you.

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you.

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now.

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl.

“I can help your friend,” he says.

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity.

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--”

“Fine,” you snip and hang up.

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #defending jacob #end game

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drvscarlett · 7 months ago

Text

DOWN BAD

Charles Leclerc x Kpop idol!reader

Summary: When kpop meets formula 1 and its a relationship PR stunt. What happens then?

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: after a long long long while, we are so back! Congrats for charles winning his home race. Let me know what you think or if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

Cause what if I was in love What if I can't have us.

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, todayis_wendy, and 790,456 others

xoxo_y/n 💍💖

user8 MOTHERRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

user4 she remembered her account again!!!

user10 can we get a smile miss maam???

user11 she is ice princess for a reason duhh user10 it wouldn't hurt for her to smile sometimes

user55 someone tell me why charles is in the likes??

user7 charles??? like king charles?? user67 dumb dumb, its charles leclerc

user90 another day, another slay from Y/N

Y/N have never been a fan of fake dating.

However, it was not an uncommon practice in the industry. If someone wants to hide their relationship, create a fake relationship to throw off the media. If someone wants to boost their popularity, fake a relationship and get the attention.

It amazes her how good people play that part of being in love when they are really not. The thought of it also disgust her because she can't even control her emotions to the people she doesn't like let alone pretend to love someone.

So this entire meeting seems ridiculous.

"Isn't there any other way to solve this situation by not doing this?"Y/N asked.

"The company doesn't want to give you a comeback until your popularity rises and this fake relationship will guarantee a boost" the manager convinces "You are the only girl in your group that has not been involved in any dating scandals"

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing I'm not into scandals"Y/N rebutted

"Normally it is but your image is not doing well because everyone thinks you are too cold and unreachable"

Y/N slumps back at her chair, there is really no way out of this.

"C'mon Y/N, do it for the team please"the manager begged "Think about Wendy, Joy, Seulgi, and Yeri. This whole thing will do them good"

As the leader of the group, this was her main weakness. She will do anything for the betterment of the group. Its what a good leader does.

"Just make him someone nice" Y/N surrenders.

The immediate change in expression almost made Y/N retract everything she said. This was happening whether she likes it or not for there was already a plan in mind. With her verbal agreement, its set to motion.

"Don't worry, he is a very nice guy" the manager assures "It's that f1 driver, Charles Leclerc"

Y/NFansite Y/N was just spotted boarding a flight to Japan.

user4 what is she doing in japan??

user2 what is she doing alone in japan? user3 japan huhhhh

user7 safe flight y/n

user8 it might seem crazy what im about to sayyyyyy

user9 i love love her airport fashion so chic and comfy

She knew that she should have listened to the members advice to look up her "boyfriend" but of course Y/N was too stubborn. Now, she is here sticking like a sore thumb and looking like a headless chicken in the Ferrari garage.

This was the week that they are supposed to be soft-launching their relationship. She haven't even meet the guy yet, she resist the urge of rolling her eyes as cameras might be lurking.

"Love the color of your nails" the voice comes from behind.

Y/N snaps her head giving her famous resting face as she meets the grinning Charles Leclerc.

"Ferrari Red or Red Velvet?" Charles wondered.

"It can be either"she shrugs.

He sits next to her. He was a little bit taller than her even when they are sitting down. She noticed the friendship bracelets that that he wears on his wrist with red and yellow as its dominant colors.

It was the first time that she has been able to take a long look at the man, she has seen posters of him at the train station. She will admit that she kind of sees why the girls were shrieking when they looked up the photo of Charles. He certainly looks good and she bets he knows it too with that charming smile plastered on his face.

"My name is Charles, sorry that it took me so long to meet you"Charles held out his hand

"Y/N, nice to meet you"

She didn't reach out to touch his hands in return, she just wants enough distance as much as she could. After all this whole thing is just a pretend thing.

Charles didn't seem to be dismayed by the action and he smoothly covers it up by running his open hand to his hair. He continues to smile at her brightly.

"Ice princess right?"he mentions the nickname.

"How do you know that?"Y/N asked

"I googled you last night" Charles replied "Of course I have to know something about my new girlfriend."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn at the way he spoke girlfriend. It was uttered in such a teasing manner that she is beginning to understand how some people are good at making fake dating situation work.

"I didn't look you up"Y/N admits.

She was expecting to see a falter or a tinge of disappointment but the smile on Charles face only went wider. It's as if he was a kid given a his wish on Christmas day.

"Well then that's perfect" Charles clapped his hands "We have some time before free practice, I could show you around and I could talk to you about Formula 1"

Charles_LeclercUpdate Charles is spotted walking with kpop leader Y/N before FP1. They were also spotted hanging out after free practice.

User4 what????

User7 BIG DAY FOR THE KPOP X F1 GIRLIES (its me)

User8 so that's why she went to japan!!!

User9 omgggg they will be a power couple

User14 y/n pick anyone, pick anyoneeeeeeeeeeeeeee. leave my husband alone

"Sooooooo when are we meeting our new brother-in-law?"Wendy asked.

The minute that Y/N steps back to Korea, she was immediately bombarded by her members regarding her Japan trip. They were all over their groupchat and they kept sending the photos that were tweeted by fans during the weekend.

"I think he will be busy a lot"Y/N answered "You might not meet him any time soon"

The Japanese GP was quite disappointing for Charles with him landing on a P4 and missing out on a podium. Although if Y/N could argue, she overheard people talking about how Charles did extremely well especially with the one-stop strategy. Y/N mentioned it in their conversations but Charles still insist that he has to do better so he will be training a lot.

"Tell me you took pictures"Joy asked

Y/N nodded her head as she opened up her phone. Her gallery was filled with a lot of pictures during the weekend. There were also some fans of Charles that she took photos with.

They stumble upon a selfie by Charles and Y/N, they could not stop giggling.

"Unnie, you two looks so good"Yeri, the youngest cheers "Everyone keep saying how you two are the original visual"

"What if this can be your first real relationship" Seulgi encourages.

"This is just work Seulgi"Y/N reiterated "We'll fake date for a year and a half then its done"

Before the members could voice out their protest, the door rings.

"Did you guys order food or something?"Y/N asked.

The four other members shook their head communicating that there is a stranger outside the door. Y/N cautiously opens the door because she didn't want her private apartment leaked to fans.

Y/N felt a sigh of relief upon seeing the lady at the frontdesk of her building. What was highly unusual was the bouquet of red flowers of various shades and sizes that she was holding.

"Y/N, I wanted to give this to you because I think your boyfriend forgot your room number"she greeted.

Stunned silence, she wasn't aware that there was something to do for today. She normally doesn't gush but receiving flowers is something really nice. Y/N mutters a small thanks before getting the flower and getting inside.

"Ohmygod, that must be from Charles"Yeri was jumping up and down "Isn't he romantic?"

"What did he sent it for?"Joy quizzes.

Y/N picked up the card and saw a scrawl signed by Charles' name.

"I never got to thank you for being with me during the weekend. Thank you for being a wonderful addition to the garage. Its nice to see you. I'm hoping to see you maybe in Shanghai?"Y/N reads.

"You have to go!!!"Wendy pushed.

"Unnie c'mon bring us with you"

"Let me see the letter"

While the girls were busy talking, Y/N took the opportunity that they were occupied to quiz the man who sent the flowers.

Y/N: Why did you send the flowers? Charles: You don't like it :<< Y/N: Well, I love it and I appreciate that. Y/N: Should I post this on social media or something to tag you? Charles: I just want you to enjoy the flowers. I really appreciate meeting you. Charles: Have a great day cheri Y/N: Thanks Charles, you too!

Charles_Leclerc what a weekend, shanghai you have been great.

User4 what a weekend for feudrari

User5 Charles you look so good!!!!!

User10 a smiling Y/N???? WHAT IS HAPPENING

User45 am i the only one thinking how random this whole relationship is?

User7 i know like who introduced them??? User8 ngl i dont give a crap, i just think they are perfect with each other

She was easily getting a hang of this new life. She feels like as an idol, she was well-prepared with the flashing cameras and the people bombarding her wherever she goes. It was no big deal for her to stop by and meet people since everyone seems to want a picture or a sign of Charles.

"Y/N can you give this to Charles?"

"This bracelet is for you and Charles"

"Would you sign this?"

"Y/N I hope you can have a comeback soon!"

There were so many voices and people. She kept a smile on her face as she tries to navigate her way out of the crowd. There is probably an increase in the amount of people crowding her since she is now known as Charles' girlfriend besides being an idol singer.

The crowd was moving in a snail pace and she politely thanked people giving her gifts for her or even the ones that are supposed to be for Charles. She was so preoccupied that Y/N didn't notice that Charles was worriedly squeezing his way to the crowd to retrieve her.

"Excuse me, can you give her some space please"Charles tried to get a hold of her.

"I'm okay"she squeaked.

Still, Charles waded through the crowd and once within reach he interlocked his hands with her. Y/N also noticed how his other hand has been gently placed at her back in a protective manner as if he is guiding her.

There were cameras flashing and Y/N felt a cap being placed on her head. She can see the number 16 etched on the flap of the cap and Charles suddenly missing his iconic hat.

"Please don't crowd my girlfriend please" Charles begged the crowd "I don't want her harmed or you guys to be harmed so lets just calm down"

It felt like Charles has a certain pied-piper charm to his voice because people listened. The two of them made their way to the garage and Y/N didn't miss how he still kept the protective arm gesture.

"You should have used the more private gate, next time I'll teach you that so you won't be bomarded by people" Charles explained "You could have been lost in the crowd if Fred didn't tell me"

The worried look on Charles face was evident. He was looking at her if she had any bruises or scratches, he knows that there was a tendency for avid fans to accidentally leave some scratches.

"Charles, I'm okay" Y/N rested a hand on his shoulders to soothe him "This is not my first time to deal with crowds"

"I know but I don't want to create a bad experience for your grand prix, you might not want to go next time"Charles pouts.

"I can assure you that it will take more than a crowd to scare me into not going to Grand Prixs"

Y/N's remark seems to place a smile on Charles' face and she couldn't help but to smile as well. It was simply infectious for Charles to do that.

"Good because I want to keep inviting you to more Grand Prix"Charles stated.

xoxo_Y/N 🎹🎵 #solo

User1 were finally getting an Y/N solo ???? FINALLY

User2 Y/N SOLO???

User3 I spy with my little eye, thats charles!!!!

User16 CHARLES WILL BE PLAYING FOR YOUR SOLO??? User24 no wayyy!!!!

User15 were going to be blessed!!!

Todayis_wendy why are we not informed???

xoxo_Y/N he is only here for a couple of days Charles_Leclerc I promise, I'll hang out next time! Todayis_wendy get me some gp tickets in canada and were good! Charles_Leclerc that can be arranged user55 wendy here is getting the bag LOL

After a couple of grand prix, it was now time for Charles to enter her world.

Its the summer break, they made use of the time by bringing Charles to Korea. Y/N had a lot of things planned because she wanted to treat Charles with the whole korean experience but her company had other plans.

"I'm really sorry, this will be just a quick thing" Y/N apologized as they walked the halls of the recording studio.

"No worries, I don't have anything planned" Charles smiled.

"This will be just 30 minutes or so then we can go exploring again" Y/N explained.

"Hey, its okay. "Charles assures "This is your world and you know I'm really happy to see you do your thing"

Y/N felt something weird again with how Charles placed his hands on top of hers. It wasn't her nerves because she recorded multiple times so this is something else. In the back of her mind, she knows what exactly this is but she wants to deny it for a little bit longer.

"There you are Y/N, I'm sorry but your recording last week glitched" The producer noticed she wasn't alone "We might rerecord"

"Can we do a quick run?" Y/N pouted.

"It might take some time"

She helplessly looked at Charles expecting him to be disappointed. Charles has a big supportive smile on his face as if reassuring her that she could take all the time she needs.

"I'm alright being here, your studio is awesome" Charles piped in

He was immediately making his way to the piano and looking over to the other equipment in the studio. Y/N noticed that Charles has a certain crinkle in his eyes when he is in awe with things, she used to see it with the cars.

"You wanna play?" Y/N asked

Charles looked at her as if she was kidding. He looked to the producer, seeking confirmation, and the producer just gives a go signal.

"I mean, maybe I can contribute to your recording"Charles suggested.

"Gee, are you coming after my job?"Y/N joked

"Maybe I'm just trying to do this so we can spend more time together" Charles winks.

And so the re-recording started. Charles was busy playing and making suggestions, which the producer takes into account. He even made a rough draft of a new song that Y/N noticed when he stepped out to take a call.

"Your boyfriend has an ear for music"The producer admits.

"It seems so"

Y/N glanced at the musical notes and lyrics that he has written. It was something that she might have to discuss with Charles soon because these have big potential to be a part of an album.

"You two are a match-made in heaven"

The comment caught her off-guard. It was her internal crisis that she was getting used being with Charles and it reached to the point that they are still acting like they are together even without cameras on them.

Is everything still pretend?

Charles_Leclerc Red Velvet should be played at the garage tbh

Arthur_Leclerc a blast to see her perform!!!

xoxo_y/n thanks arthur! Arthur_Leclerc my bias is Yeri btw! any chance you can get me one of those yeri card? xoxo_y/n talk to her yerimiese yerimiese hi???

xoxo_y/n consider me surprised, thanks for seeing us perform

Charles_Leclerc wouldn't miss it for the world mon chou! user81 the nickname is mon chou???? user50 i want what they have

user9 the fact that charles literally took the time to surprise his gf by staying lowkey and buying tickets like a fan would, Y/N wins the jackpot!!!!

User4 what a supportive boyfriend, i wish my boyfriend is like this

User7 why is that every time Y/N smiles, charles is always there at the receiving end??

User8 i wanna go to a red velvet concert too!!!

Charles knew that this was beyond the contract but he was pretty curious after knowing that this was Red Velvet's first european tour. Y/N was always doing her best to be present in GPs and he wanted to return the favor. He had a bit of free time and he did a little snooping.

"Let me ask you why did you call me here again?"Arthur asked.

"I need you to go on your laptop and get tickets"Charles repeated.

"Tickets for what?"

"Red Velvet tour in Paris"Joris answered.

He really brought the whole battalion to secure the concert tickets. From what he researched, it was quite chaotic once the ticket starts so he enlisted everyone within the vicinity. This is why Joris and Arthur are camped in his living room with their laptops on.

"You know I honestly think we shouldn't go with this big of a trouble when we can just call her and ask for tickets"Joris added

"But she will be surprised and this is too sweet of a gesture" Arthur cooed "I'm definitely down to do this"

"We have to focus on getting the tickets"Charles reminded.

They watched as the clock ticked closer to the selling time and then it was quite chaotic at the household. Charles would like to think that his fast reflexes would be a great advantage to this but it was all futile.

"What do you mean that were in line?"

"My site just crashed"

"This button is not working, what is this wifi?"

"WHY IS THIS SO STRESSFUL?"

Charles_Leclerc recharging the batteries with her.

xoxo_y/n i dont wanna leave monaco

Charles_Leclerc stay with me even longerrrrr hi_sseulgi stop stealing her!!! Charles_Leclerc sorry lolz user9 lolz, charles ur so unserious

user4 posting two photos of Y/N and one of him, he is head over heels

user7 i mean if Y/N is my girlfriend then i will do the same!

user16 i just wanna take a long walk and lie down the highway

xoxo_y/n always so proud of you Charlie!

Charles_Leclerc thank you! i couldn't ask for anyone better to support me

xoxo_y/n saranghaeeeee Charles_Leclerc love you more mon chou

user12 im not a huge fan of Y/N but she is always there to support Charles therefore i like her a lot

User5 why are they so wholesome???

User6 i just saw them walking to the paddock and how Y/N looked so proud of Charles is everything

Charles finds that Abu Dhabi is that one track he hates every season.

It serves as a bitter reminder that another season is ending and he doesn't have a championship in his belt. It was a heavy burden on his shoulder especially when everyone has dubbed him as someone who will bring back the glory days of Ferrari.

"You look exhausted"Y/N pointed out.

He was so into his thoughts that he didn't notice her arrival.

"When did you get here? I'm sorry if I wasn't able to pick you up at the front"Charles apologized.

"It's okay Charles"Y/N assured "But are you okay?You seem a bit out of it"

"Just a lot of things"Charles sighed.

Charles fiddles with his ring, a habit that Y/N observed that Charles do when he is stressed. After being together for nearly 10 months, even if its fake, Y/N was observant to pick up these characteristics.

"You could tell me anything"

Something that Charles learned that despite the whole cold atmosphere and aura Y/N has, she was a very good listener and comforting shoulder to cry on.

"It's just the championship, I wish I could have a better car and a better chance to win this thing"Charles admitted.

"You always have next year" she suggested

"Maybe but everyone is getting restless"Charles' voice felt like cracking "Next year, its a new team mate and a new car and new struggles"

"Well no one said that the road to championship would be easy"Y/N said "Things are never easy but that's what makes victory so sweet"

Y/N's hand reached to touch Charles to stop him from fidgeting his ring. There was that feeling of warmness again but this has been occurring for so long that this was not a foreign feeling anymore.

"You'll get it next year Charles"

"Thanks for believing in me Y/N"

Charles_Leclerc love spending time with you as always!

user8 the rings??? dont tell me you two are engaged???

user76 im so happy to see them be like this huhuhu

user2 i love it how open Y/N and Charles is about their relationship

user6 why is she in monaco again? doesn't she have a job or sumthing?

user7 jealous much?? user8 why does she need to work when charles can provide

It was so easy to do the whole relationship with Charles that they haven't noticed that a good year and a half has been done. Y/N knew that sooner or later the phone call will inform her that its time to call it off but she would like to pretend that its never happening.

"Charlie!"she greeted as soon as she enters the apartment "I remember we were running low on fruits so I bought some apples and oranges while I was going home"

Y/N frowns because usually Charles would come running already to ask what did she get but today there was a certain stillness. She immediately went to Charles' office and she spotted him in front of his laptop.

In her heart, she knows what's happening judging the grim look on his face.

"We need to talk" Charles broke the ice "I just got the email"

Y/N understood english but why are the words like floating in the air and not making any sense to her. She felt like she could just vomit at the moment with the amount of stress.

Everything was coming to an end.

"Hey, hey look at me Y/N" Charles held her hand "This whole thing may be over and we just need to give it a few months but we are still friends"

Friends? That was even more painful than ever. How can Y/N go from acting all domestic and being a couple to simply being reduced to a friendship. She clutches the necklace hanging around her neck as if it was the thing suffocating her.

"Do you need water?" Charles asked

"I need to go"

"Go? Where are you going?" Charles was confused.

But Y/N was already picking up her bag and things. She felt so claustrophobic being in Charles' place and having so many thoughts running in her mind. She just wants to get away.

"I just need to go for now Charles"Y/N repeated.

"Mon chou, you don't seem like in a good state to drive by yourself, let me drive you mon chou-"

"Don't call me that"Y/N snapped.

There were so many emotions in Y/N's eyes. It was filled with regrets, begging, and most of all pain. It was swimming with emotions that he was lost at what to do.

"This whole thing is about to be over so I think its best to start dropping nicknames so its easier for us to part"Y/N's response was on autopilot and Charles could only nod in agreement.

soompi Red Velvet leader Y/N and Scuderia Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc confirms break up.

user4 what???did i miss something???

user88 you have got to be kidding me!!

user7 i knew it, they were bound to end.

user9 good news, my wife is freee!!!!!

User8 we are checking, we are checking

"Charles?" Y/N's voice felt like fresh air for Charles.

He can't see her but he can feel how there was so much that has changed about her. There was this certain tone and intonation that he remembers whenever she speaks to him. Now, its just empty and void of emotions.

Its been 2 weeks since they received the termination email and they haven't been together in the same place ever since. Frankly, Charles misses her.

"Charles, are you there?"Y/N asked "I'm gonna hang up this phone if you're not going to speak because I have some stuffs to do so-"

"Don't hang up.. please"Charles interrupted "I just didn't know what to say to you"

There was a silence on both ends of the phone call but their heavy sighs acknowledges that they are still both on the line. They are both waiting for each other to say something.

"You know its snowing today" Charles started.

"The first snow?"

"Yeah and I remember that you told me that in Korea that whole tradition about when the first snow falls then you have to call someone really special"Charles remembered.

"Charles don't do this"she begs.

"Don't do what?"

"This, whatever this is. It has to stop because were about to announce to the world that were breaking up and we have to adjust back to what we used to be"Y/N said.

She was begging Charles to give her some time and space. It was for her own good because she knows that she was already in too deep with this whole fake relationship and its going to break her the minute that this whole thing finally ends.

"I like you Y/N" Charles was first to cave in "I have been thinking about this for months that I really like spending time with you and I really like you way beyond than this whole fake dating thing"

There was desperation in Charles' voice and it was not comforting for Y/N to hear it. She often hears that love is not supposed to be something that scares you, it should be your peace or tranquility.

"This is all wrong, you're only saying that because we spend too much time together"Y/N denies.

"Then we can start this again. Properly and real this time around" Charles insisted "We can hide away this relationship from the media, we can do secret studio session, we can just have private vacations here in Monaco"

Everything was too good for Y/N to be real. She was scared that she might wake up and this is all a dream for her.

"I like you Charles but I think I needed time to process this whole thing"Y/N answered "We have to think this through because I think were transitioning from everything way too fast. We're acting and now we're turning this to something real."

And there was silence, she knows that she messed up by being too open and too direct about what she's feeling.

"You're scared?" Charles asked

"Yeah"

"Okay then I'll wait for you until you're no longer scared"

Y/N felt like she could cry with how Charles replies. It was somehow very comforting to hear that he wouldn't run away and that he would be here.

"And when you feel like you are no longer scared and afraid then I'll be here" Charles assures.

CharlesY/NUpdates is Y/N and Charles back together?? We spotted a new girl in his vlogs and it looks like Y/N. The photo from the left is a screenshot from Charles' new vlog while the one on the right is a photo of Y/N in her IG a few weeks ago.

User4 ohmygod!!! I KNEW IT!!!

User7 anyone thinks that the timeline isn't adding up because Y/N hasn't left korea

User8 we don't know if she's been riding private jet planes

User91 no, that's not Y/N. Look at her nose

User20 and the skintone User4 but they look eerily similar

Its been 8 months since they "broke up" and true to their words they haven't been contacting each other. They really took the words taking time to navigate what they are feeling so that they can work things out properly this time.

Y/N is currently doing some songwriting when the members barged in her room. They were giggling and excited that it made Y/N confused if she missed any new memes.

"Okay what is going on"Y/N asked, putting down her pen.

"Oh c'mon unnie, why are you still hiding from us?"Yeri giggled

"Yeah, did we really have to know things from the internet" Wendy agreed.

This only confuses her even more and the members seem to realize that Y/N truly didn't know anything.

"Unnie be real with us? Is this you" Joy asked.

Scrolling past the different set of photo of Charles and mystery girl, Y/N felt her heart drop.

"I haven't talked to Charles ever since.."Y/N admitted.

There were so many questions in her head if this is one of those fake ones or is this a true relationship. Truthfully, she didn't want to know the answer because it will only pain her more.

"What are you going to do about this Y/N? I thought you two are working things out to be real"

"I don't know.."

There was something broken about Y/N that she can't feel anything.

WagF1 look at the new gf of Charles Leclerc and his past gf, does charles get deja vu?

user6 charles i cannot defend you with this

User7 its called, he has a type!!!

User88 i miss Y/N and charles

User9 can you all get over the old ones, they have new lives already

CharlesY/NUpdates Charles and Y/N at the same event tonight! After a year of their break up!

User6 anyone wanna bet with me that there will be chaos

User8 nah Alex and Y/N are too sweet to be involved in a fight User10 oh to be a fly in that room

User1 did they know about this or are they as surprised as each other?

User2 i mean if my ex shows up looking like that, i would have started packing my bags

User3 but alex is also too beautiful!!! User72 alex looks like Y/N

User84 i just miss Y/N at the paddock :((

If Y/N has been informed that Charles would be in attendance then she would have called in sick or skipped her flight. It was a punch in the gut to see him but she felt like someone twisted the knife when she saw the company he was with.

Alex, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

They were a few tables away from Y/N's table but to her luck she has the perfect view of the couple. She have to thank the years of media training that she underwent during her debut days that prevents her from showing any emotions she is feeling at the moment.

"Y/N do you want to switch seats?" Seulgi asked

"I'm okay, I don't wanna make anymore trouble"

She watches how Alex whispers to Charles and how he nods in attentiveness. It was the same way that Charles used to talk to Y/N when she was fake dating him.

How is this not confusing for Charles? This was the question that bothers Y/N.

"I need to go and powder my nose a quick second" Y/N bids the table.

The members look at their leader with a worried expression but they let her off. Y/N went outside of the hall and out of the view of the cameras. She was suffocating in that room.

The door creaks open again and she fears that oh so familiar footsteps.

"YN"

"Charles"she greeted without stopping with her stride.

"I need a second with you"Charles was catching up.

"I don't have a second for you"

"C'mon Y/N hear me ou-"

Charles grabbed Y/N's wrist and she made a mistake of facing him. Everything just comes flooding in her memory and she hates herself so much that none of these feelings have any semblance of hatred towards the man.

"Give me a chance to explain myself. I know this is all so confusing for you and I know that I hurt you but I didn't mean to do that to you"Charles explained.

Another mistake that Y/N did was she looked him straight to the eye. It was a recipe for disaster as months of trying to heal suddenly went down the drain.

"I love you. I really do. And I waited for you and then Alex entered and then I liked her a lot and I know this is not an explanation that you need but you deserve to hear this and-"

The whole thing was passing on deaf ears because Y/N already confirmed what she was feeling ever since the first sentence. She was ready to settle this out even if it hurts her.

"Loved Charles. You loved me"Y/N points out "Past tense"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You love Alex now right so you only loved me" Y/N restates.

Charles was at a lost for words.

"You shouldn't feel guilty, I can see it in your eyes that you truly love Alex." Y/N explains "I'm happy that its something real and sure"

Real and sure, its something that she cannot give but she is happy someone else can give that to Charles.

"But what about you?"Charles asked

"My feelings, I'll get over it."Y/N knows that she has to.

They stand there with a more comfortable silence.

"Does that mean were okay? No more hard feelings?"Charles wondered

"of course charlie"she musters a smile.

"Great" Charles awkwardly runs a hand down his hair

"You should get back to the hall, I'm sure Alex would be wondering where you went"Y/N suggested.

"What about you?"

"I'll follow soon, I just need to go to the bathroom"

"Okay Y/N, I'll see you inside later" Charles replied.

The fading footsteps of Charles allowed Y/N to let out a heavy sigh. She briskly walked to the bathroom and in the far end of the stall, she locks herself. It was the only moment that she allowed herself to be true to whatever it is she feeling.

She did everything good but why does she feel like crying now.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #the tortured drivers department #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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highonmarvel · 1 year ago

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Helloooo! Can i please request an au where the reader has had a few toxic relationships and she’s trying to distract herself by those by starting her own business, turns out bucky or steve are an interested investor but they never really wanted her business and just her and somehow trap her into an arrangement…Sorry if it’s too specific! 💖💕💞💗⭐️

oh, this is such a good idea, i hope i did it justice!

Bucky Barnes: Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes. 18+!

Dub/Non Con Warning!

additional content warnings here!

You yawn as you close your laptop, finally done with payroll for a small nursery school a few neighbourhoods over. Who knew Grade R teachers could have such horrible internal affairs?

You heart skips a beat as the lights flicker momentarily, and you worry your electricity will be cut off, but they stabilise, and you sigh in a relief, hand over your heart.

When you left Tony, he made sure you lost your friends, and your job, and your income has been less than minimum wage, you’re barely even scrapping by. You had been through this before, boyfriends trying to ruin your life—Thor, most notably—but you had to give Tony credit for really crippling you this time.

You weren’t able to get any office jobs again, having to settle on working for a sweet old woman in a small flower shop, which was kind, but it didn’t come close to paying your bills. Still, you refused to let Tony win; you had good qualifications; you had a bachelor in HR and nearly a decade of experience, and that no one would hire you didn’t stop you.

You started your own HR consultancy, an idea you to had spoken about to a friend a few times, but you were sure Tony had took care she never even looked at you again, so you did it alone, which would be way too much for a single person, except business was slow; but, make no mistake, you worked your ass off.

The nice thing about the flower shop is the sweet old lady allows you to hand out your business card to the few customers that come in. Only four or five people had actually taken it in the time you’d been working there, and reluctantly, at that.

You drag yourself to bed and crash pretty much immediately.

As usual, the morning is pretty much empty—one woman comes in but buys nothing and another stares through the window for 10 minutes—until around midday, when the air shifts.

The bell at the top of the door pulling your attention from your daydream and to a familiar-looking, tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a nice suit, which he adjusts the cuff of as he scans the room. His eyes meet yours and he smiles. You return the smile with a, “Welcome to Miss Roe’s Flower Shop. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Though his mouth doesn’t twist, his eyes glint with something odd, making his initially warm smile seem more sinister.

“Anything I can help you find in the store?” you feel the need to clarify.

He only asks you for the red roses, which you point to and he returns to the counter with a bunch.

“Romantic,” you mutter as you ring him up, and he chuckles, softly and, seemingly, sweetly.

You hand the bouquet back to him, and he plucks a rose from it and hands it to you, “A beautiful lady like yourself deserves one,” he winks, and you blush, stuttering out a thanks as you take it.

Just as he takes a step back, you yell out, “Wait!” louder than you intended, and slightly startling him, “Sorry,” you apologise, as you slide one of your business cards off the top of the stack and hand it to him, slightly nervous for some reason. He takes it curiously and scans over it.

“HR?” he asks, “Wouldn’t have thought it.”

You don’t really have to time to process that comment, let alone come up with a response before he continues, “Perfect timing, actually, I’ve been needing help in that area. I’ll give you a call, he smiles as he pockets the card, “Oh, and,” he reaches out a hand, “I’m James Barnes.”

That’s where you know him from! Barnes Industries, one of the most advanced tech companies in North America, and the CEO is interested in having you on his team.

You give him your name as you shake his hand.

“It was nice meeting you,” he says with a determined smile before slipping out the door.

Back home, in the kitchen, you’re not sure if he’s actually is going to call, especially when it’s approaching 19h00, maybe he was just being nice. He did seem a bit flirty… but maybe you imagined it, why would he want anything to do with you? And if he were being flirty, he surely wouldn’t then hire you.

You jump as your phone rings, nearly spilling boiling water all over yourself. You set down the pot and rush to the living room where your phone is singing and vibrating on the couch.

“Hello?” you answer, slightly breathless as you rest the device on your ear.

A female voice asks if this is the number for your HR Consultancy, to which you affirm.

“Please hold.”

You press your phone against you harder, heart beating a little faster as you bounce on your toes, waiting on hold with some generic elevator music doing nothing to soothe your nerves. After nearly five minutes, you’re ready to hang up when a voice answers.

“Good evening, I’m sorry for the late hour.”

“Mr Barnes!” you exclaim, before clearing your throat and sitting down, speaking in a lower, more professional voice, “It’s no issue at all, sir. Can I help you?”

“Would you mind coming in for a meeting? 8AM sharp tomorrow. I understand if you’re working—”

“I’ll be there,” you reply a little too enthusiastically, walking over to your desk to pick up a pen and pull out your notepad, “8AM, I’m assuming at Barnes Industries?” You take down the address he gives you even though the huge, skyscraper-tall building with a giant B and a rocket logo is pretty hard to miss.

When you hang up, you can’t help but jump up and down excitedly like a schoolgirl. Finally, your luck is turning around.

You straighten your skirt as you step into the building, grateful the sweet old lady had not only given you the day off, but been super supportive, convincing you would you get the job, and that settled your nerves slightly. Only slightly, though, as you walk up to the desk where a red-haired woman sits, looking alert, but a little bored.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“Good morning, I’m here to see Mr Barnes,” you say, and then give her your name.

At the mention of your name, her eyes widen and she quickly stands, “Of course!” she says, “Right this way.”

Her heels click on the pristine white floors as she leads you to a fancy elevator and presses the button for the top floor.

“Should I be nervous?” you ask, trying to make conversation as each floor ticks by too slowly for your liking to get to the 60th.

She laughs politely and shakes her head, leaning in and speaking lower (despite only the two of you being in an-already small space), “For anyone else, I’d say yes, but Mr Barnes has been looking forward to your meeting; I think you’ve got a real shot. In fact, I think he’d pay anything you ask.”

She pulls away and raises her eyebrows at you.

Your mouth falls slightly open but you quickly close it and gulp lightly, tearing your gaze away from her to focus on a spot on the floor just in front of the doors. You don’t know if she’s exaggerating, you assume she has to be, because how could Mr Barnes even know if you were good at your job? For all he knows, you work in a flower shop and hand out cards for subpar services. Somehow, her words make you more anxious than they are comforting.

The doors finally open and she points you to the room at the end with big double doors.

“Good luck!” she smiles, and you watch the doors shut, the numbers go down for a few floors, and you’re left on your own.

You take a deep breath and turn back to face the apparently never-ending passage. You walk down the corridor in timed rhythm, counting 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4 until you reach the end on a 2. You knock on the door and are met with a “Come in,” from a masculine voice.

You slowly open the door, resisting the urge to peek your head in first like a child.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” you smile, speaking cheerily but still professionally.

“Ah, there she is!” he says as he stands from his desk and walks towards you, and for some reason now you really take note of the height-difference.

He gently grips your shoulders and kisses you on the cheek, to which you stiffen slightly, but try to cover up before he notices. His hands move to your waist and he leans in; you almost sidestep him thinking he’s trying to do… something else, but he only locks the door behind you, and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than what you were expecting.

Your nerves flare up again, but in a different sense than if you were just going in for a job interview, adrenaline starting to prepare like you’re in danger. But you’re not… right? You’ve had dozens of interviews. You assume this time it’s just more scary because it’s with James Barnes himself.

“Nervous?” he asks as he steps back and gestures to a comfortable-looking leather armchair on the other side of his desk.

“A little,” you admit with an anxious and breathless laugh. He gives you a reassuring smile as he turns to a shelf behind him.

“Don’t be,” he says as he fixes himself a drink, “Whiskey?” he offers, “5PM somewhere and all that.”

You politely decline, and he settles into his seat across from you with his drink in hand. He takes a sip and sets the glass down to set his gaze on you, and you resist the urge to shift uncomfortably under his stare… it almost seems like he’s preventing himself from sizing you up.

“Why did you start your business?” he asks, “Honestly.”

“Well, I’ve been in HR for a while now, always had a passion for it, but I wanted to be more independent, and a little more flexible.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Honestly.”

“And I…” you don’t know why you say it, but you do, “I’ve had bad experiences with boyfriends in the past—and, please let me know if I’m being too unprofessional here, sir—”

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“All right… Bucky,” you smile, “I’ve had my most recent ex boyfriend try to ruin me; he got me fired, and no serious white collar will hire me, but I’m good at what I do, and I refuse to let him stop me from using my knowledge and expertise.”

“Tony Stark, is your ex, I take it?”

Your blood runs cold, and you deflate slightly, “Yes,” you sigh, “He is, and… and he treated me horribly, I couldn’t take it anymore, and even when I’m not with him, he still finds away to make my life hell.”

“I don’t trust that sleaze. In fact, anything he says, I do the opposite. I know you’re good at what you do, I can see your passion…”

You smile, relieved he believes you.

“… and I have a passion for you.”

You freeze, so your smile is still intact, “I’m sorry?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, sure you misheard him, but how could you have?

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I’ve been feeling, and you’re smart enough to know you’ve been suppressing your mutual attraction, but maybe too naïve to understand intentions.”

“Mr Barnes—”

“Bucky,” he corrects.

“Bucky, I—”

“I’ll pay whatever you want.”

You nearly snap at him, want to tell him you’re not for sale, but you stop yourself. You really, really need this job, you can’t afford to live another month.

“I know you need this job,” he says, as if he read your mind, pulling out a contract from his desk drawer, “And imagine if both Tony Stark and James Barnes said you were awful? You’ll never work in this city again.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the weight of his words, and you clutch your bag tighter in your lap.

“You’ll never work in this country again, you’ll be ruined, you’ll have nothing.”

You choke on a sob and cover your mouth with your hand as you shut your eyes.

“Why’re you crying? Honey, I’m offering you everything.”

“Thank you for… the opportunity,” you manage to get out between a deep breath as you shakily stand, and he stands with you.

You dart for the exit, but he grips your shoulders and turns you around, pushing you against door, your lower back painfully hitting the handle.

Soft blue eyes meet yours, so gentle and empathetic and caring you nearly forget the position you’re in, “I’m trying to help you,” he says, wiping away one of your stray tears, “If you walk out that door it’s over for you, you know that.”

Tears are falling more freely now and you fumble behind your back for the door handle, but the tall wood separating you from freedom doesn’t budge.

He wipes another tear with his thumb and pops it into his mouth before pulling it out adding his middle and index finger, never breaking eye contact with you, face stoic as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

You can do nothing but stare up at him helplessly as he hikes up your skirt and pushes two fingers inside you. You grip his shoulders with a gasp and he smiles as he slowly drags in and out of you.

“Didn’t even need to do that, you’re all ready.”

You turn your head to side and look away from him, shutting your eyes as you squeeze around him. He’s right, you were already wet, but your feeling of disgust is overpowered by the sensation of him pumping in and out of your more quickly, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot, over and over until you can hardly take it.

“B- Bucky, stop—” you try to get out, but you convulse, your stomach tensing as you cry out and arch your back, head thrown back before falling onto his shoulder, still crying softly. He removes his fingers and strokes your hair with his clean hand.

“Did so well for me, you see,” his voice is dark in your ear despite his praise, “You’re good at your job.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark avengers #yandere bucky barnes #dark!avengers #request

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dark-l-angel · 6 months ago

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if you want requests, I am so delulu, I'm stuck in my own world 24/7 and my brain refuses to stop.....

Jason, who growing up had a crush on reader, but being the clueless person we are we have no clue (I swear it's a curse, I genuinely don't know that someone is into me until they say it. No flirting computes with me) but then the whole- ya know, not living thing happens.... The thing that leads up to Red Hood (I refuse to say it) and reader is later confronted by either Dick or Alfred at the funeral and they're like

“You know he like you, right?” and readers response is

“Not as much as I loved him”

which I guess causes a whole sad thing that I can't cope with, so you decide what happens from there, but basically the ending is when Jason is not the scary evil Red Hood anymore but more the Jason people fantasize about, he tells reader how he feels and IDK man something cute and fluffy, my brain is just sad all the time so all I have is the sad stuff.

Anyways, this is a lot longer than I thought it would be, but here it is, please ignore it if it's weird or too much 😅

have a nice day, peace out ✌️

Princess, believe it or not i had hundreds of scenarios to this situation at fucking 5 a.m when i was ab to pass my bachelor exam *I'm talking math day 💀

And having your own world is nice actually.. ❤ at least you have an escape place from painful reality and ur comfort character is hugging you in your rough times. Hope happiness strikes you like jason's beauty did to me 😃💝 love u deeply 💖

Reunion

Jason todd x fem!reader

"You know that he liked you.. right?" Dick's voice ringed in your ear.. even after all this time.. it's like it happened yesterday..

Thinking while staring at a book jason used to read when you both were younger.. before.. that incident..

You put the book away and picked another, you shared the same love of books with jason, that explains why you become a loyal customer to libraries and coffee shops.

It was always a sad thing to go to libraries, yet it felt like happiness to you.. finally some freedom from this cruel world. You don't have to suffer through reading some simple lines with deep meanings.. in fact, it changed you 360 degrees, your vision to the world has changed since ever jason introduced you to the books.

You were walking around the library while hugging different books, looking carefully through the shelves of another chosen one, Losing all connections with your world, not feeling a specific guy staring at you in admiration.

Your eye fallen on an interesting novel, but it was on the top shelf. You tried to reach it but failed, and you got that idea of reaching it through another book was by your hand. You did, the novel is coming out, but still not enough, you had to put extra efforts by standing on the top of your toes.

"Too bad short angel can't reach her little novel" a tall handsome man was towering you from behind, you looked up and his eyes fell into yours, green emerald eyes inspecting your angelic features in admiration carefully *while you took your time to enjoy his mesmerizing gorgeous beauty like the little whore you and i will do*.

He smirked before looking back to the novel and pulling it out for you, gosh he was handsome, but.. you could swear you know him from somewhere.

He reads the title loud before saying "damn baby girl you've got some pretty good taste out there.. i like it" he smirked "oh thanks, I've always liked that type of stuff especially when *author name* added his pov of the topic.." he laughed.

As you both sat at a coffee shop and continued babbling ab different books to different subjects.. almost everything.. as if you actually know this person years ago, the problem was that you weren't the type to get comfy to people easily.. so what's the matter with this guy?.

Probably his smile that cached your mind? or his emerald eyes and their beauty? his funny jocks? Or it's your shared likings? Or the fact that he was the only person to be able to crack his way through your dead heart and plant a rose of adoration that was meant only for him? The only person to have the ability to warm your heart after all these years? Or him being the reason of your tears of laughter?... sooo much questions going through your head.

You finally managed to ask him.. " i feel like i know you from years, never had fun like this since then.. do i know you by any chance?" You said while wiping away the tears of laughing on his stories.

"You didn't recognize me y/n?" You didn't tell him your name yet.. how would he- "i missed you so much actually... i have been thinking about you in everything i was doing back then, dick might probably told you about it, yet i still do think about you all the time..." you watch the man goes on.. but dick? He spoke about jason only.. and jason is.. gone.. "you forget me y/n?" That can be..

He smiled staring at you in pure love and admiration and adoration.. "It's jason.. the dumb boy who fell dumber in love with you, angel ♡".

Hope you like it ❤ baby gurl was here 😘

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myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago

Text

acta, non verba - ii. there is no treachery in the art of war

chapter 1 | series masterlist | ao3 | main masterlist | chapter 3 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: you need to start moving the game along, but you cannot be too obvious. or... can you? a/n: hello there! c: here's the second chapter! there is quite a bit of character & world building in this one, as i felt it served the storyline, so i hope you guys like it! i wanted to thank you all for your nice, encouring words on the first chapter, it really motivated me to keep on writing! you guys are amazing 💖 as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. references to marital abuse (physical and sexual) and child marriage (massive age gap, not in a cutesy way), in line with the time this story is set on. mentions of death/murder. mention of infertility. sexual tension galore (👀). a smidge of angst. w/c: ~8.6k. dividers by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea, Callie”, Torcall sombrely warned you, his eyes locking on yours over the wooden spoon he tightly gripped close to his mouth.

“And what would you have me do then?”, you sneeringly replied back.

Your brother-in-law had been pestering you the whole morning about what your plan was to win your lands back. You knew the long game was your best bet — you didn’t have the numbers to face Rome on your own. Your athair had tried and failed in his attempt. Another defeat like the one your people suffered in Raedykes would destroy your clan. It would wipe you out off the map — everything your ancestors had worked for, gone under the crushing yoke of the Romans.

“I would not have you whoring yourself out to a fucking Roman, that’s for sure. Your athair would be so disappointed in you.” He snapped back at you, anger flowing in his words.

His reply stung badly, so much you unconsciously crossed your arms at chest level — an unvoluntary gesture to protect yourself from his accusation.

“That’s beyond the point”, you barked, the green of your irises burning like hellish fire. “And my father would be just fine with my decision. Need I remind you who he married me off to?”

Torcall’s knuckles went white as his fingers pressed around the spoon harshly. You cocked a brow, unwavering.

Ten years ago, your athair had reached an agreement with Iain of Am Baile Ùr(Insh), the lord of Badenoch whose state was a few miles south of your birthplace. For as long as Caledonia had formed, there had always been internal disputes about who was the rightful heir to the Overlord title.

The clan who held the stronghold at Inbhir Nis had historically always been considered the legitimate title’s holder. Your family had been the keepers of the land for as long as anyone could remember. But it didn’t stop those who were thirsty for power, so your father had to prove himself over and over again.

After several bloody skirmishes, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis had crowned himself, yet again, lord and master of Caledonia. Iain had been a strong contestant against your father and was only appeased when your athair offered you as a consolation prize to him, as if you were a lamb up for sale at the local market. A cheap one at that.

At the tender age of six and ten, you had been shipped off to an unknown land to be wife to a man you had never seen before. The next ten years of your life would be living hell — what you had to endure, you would not wish it upon your worst enemy.

The memories that would crawl back at night would still wake you up, a cold sweat trickling down your spine every time. Abuse in your arranged marriage was your bread and butter. Every time you returned home under the prying, controlling eyes of Iain or your family came to visit, you would lie to them about the new bruise on your cheek, the limp you had for a couple of weeks or the teeth marks on your neck. Murdoch was the last to realise, unable to come to terms with the destiny he had forced upon you. And by the time he did, there was not much he could do without infuriating Iain, without risking another war.

The peace of the Caledonians outweighed your suffering, after all. You were not worth such a bloodshed.

So you pushed through it all and survived — for family, for clan, for honour. Never resented your father either; he had a duty to protect his tribe, and so did you. For a decade you dragged yourself across ember and ash, until you finally caught a break six months ago.

Iain was found dead in the marital bed, his eyes wide open and his expression struck with horror, as if a wraith had taken his life. At the mature age of six and sixty, you had been his third wife, so when his only son and heir from his first marriage ascended, you were no longer needed. With no family of your own tying you to that ghostly place, you packed your things and swiftly left, the Will' O' the Wisps guiding you home.

“I didn’t mean it that way”, his answer burst out in a pitiful whisper. One of your eyebrows raised even further into your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, unfolding your arms and looking at the cold broth in front of you. Grabbing the spoon again, you swirled it in the bowl aimlessly. You didn’t need your most trusted ally questioning your decisions, not when the whole clan depended on your actions. At least he was doing so in the intimacy of a crannog and not in front of your folk.

“I’m just trying my best, Torcall. I know I can win our freedom back, so I need you to have some faith in me. How I get to the endgame is up to me. The means justify the end.” Your words were imbued with unfaltering determination.

“I do trust you, Callie. With my life and the lives of my children”, he mumbled solemnly with a curtsy as his eyes drifted to the other end of the room.

Your niece and nephew, whom you loved dearly, were obliviously playing with some wooden swords their father had handcrafted a while back. They were six years of age, both born during the cold winter months. The twins had filled the blackhole in your heart, one that your marriage had not been able to lade.

“Ah, ye brute!” Your nephew, Daimh, let the sword slip from his fingers to hold his hand close to his chest. “You’ve hurt me, Iona!”

His little feet dabbed towards you, raising his injured hand in the air.

“Auntaidh (auntie), Iona has broken my fingers, look!”, he wept while you cradled his hand.

“Oh, come on here, mo laochain (my little hero). Let me see”, you said while rubbing his hand between yours and kissing it where it hurt.

“What a wimpy!”, Iona complained, running to her father. “I won, daddy!” Her proud, high-pitched voice squealed in excitement, and you couldn’t hide your smile.

“I’m going to tell màthair (mother)!”, Daimh blew raspberries at his sister, and she reciprocated from the other side of the table.

Your heart sunk to your stomach at the mention of Maisie, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. Both you and Torcall had explained to them that their mother had been reunited with Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, but they were too little to fully understand what that entailed, what it truly meant.

“When is mama coming back from Tech Duinn (House of Dhuosnos), daddy? I miss her dearly”, Iona’s innocent words ripped at your heart.

Torcall and you exchanged mournful glances.

“Aye, me too”, exclaimed Daimh as he snuggled in your arms.

“So do we, sweet pea, so do we”, you mumbled as you kissed the crown of his blonde head.

Daimh stirred in your arms, his green eyes piercing yours. He looked so much like his mother that it was painful. Maisie and you had the same emerald irises, although she had been blonde. Daimh and Iona were living images of her.

“When can we go home? This place smells funny”, your nephew questioned while he sat on your lap.

You wished you could tell him. Your whole family had been living in the castle that now Marcus Acacius occupied. Torcall and his children could not risk staying there, not when the threat of death was hanging above them. If the Romans knew your sister had offspring, they would hunt them down.

Despite the adversity, you had been lucky in a sense. The highlanders had always been wary of strangers — outsiders brought tragedy with them, in the way of disease or war. The Caledonians had learnt to keep their distance, to be extremely cautious. So, when the General and his army arrived, no one spoke of your family, not even when questioned.

Your people, despite the differences that had them at each other’s throats some years back, were loyal to you. And it was their fealty what enabled your plan, what allowed you to pretend, to just be another servant girl.

So Torcall, his children and you had sought refuge in the skirts of town. Your uncail Aengus’ wife had welcomed you into her home.

The crannog was a circular hut with a straw roof, the walls made of mud, rocks, wood. There was only one big, round room, with an open hearth which kept the inside warm. The open shelving gathered some necessary clutter, but there were many things scattered around the place. There were only three beds lined up against the wall, which meant that you shared a bed with Iona and Torcall with his son. Your cousins had moved out to the small barn just a few feet away to make room for you.

It was cramped and very modest in comparison to the thick walls of your castle, but it was a roof over your heads. You were extremely grateful to her. Your heart still wept at the memory of telling her the demise of her husband.

“Soon we will, but in the meantime, we are keeping Bonnie and her sons company. And this place smells just fine. Are you sure it’s not you, you stinky little deamhan (demon)?”, you jested, pinching his nose and then tickling his ribs.

His laughter was a soothing balm on your aching, longing heart.

“Was everything as expected, Dominus?” His Roman servant asked, his head bowed to him.

Marcus patted the corners of his mouth with the rag on his lap and then nodded to Atticus. The food was somewhat decent, a venison stew with some root vegetables he could not identify. The bread, unsurprisingly, was a bit stale, so he had left it untouched.

The great hall was lugubrious, silence filling up the atmosphere. There were two other maids in the room, cowering in a corner with averted eyes. They only spoke a barbarian language he had no wish to learn. Communication with the natives was extremely difficult, as they seemed to be uneducated.

But there was one lass who knew how to speak Latin — you, Callie.

He wondered where you had gone. Marcus had not seen you since your encounter in his new-found bedchamber. It had been three days since then and with each passing one, he found himself searching the room for you. There was something about you that had reeled him in but was unsure of what it was. Maybe it was the eerie, magical aura that surrounded your fiery hair — or maybe it was the way you carried yourself, the way you had briefly but decisively held his gaze. The way you quickly retreated — unwillingly.

Marcus imperceptibly shook his head and waved his hand at Atticus, motioning for him to pour another cup of the bitter wine.

“Yes”, he simply replied, bringing the wooden chalice to his lips.

Atticus signalled the young women to come forward and they quickly cleared the table of dishes and cutlery. When he was alone with his servant, away from enemies’ ears, he signalled at Atticus, who quickly stepped forward.

“Fetch my commanders and bring them here. There are matters I need to discuss with them”, Marcus demanded of him.

His attendant curtsied and vanished from the great hall, leaving him alone.

Marcus was taking in every detail of the room, of the tapestries and their stories, when a scattering sound distracted him. He thought to hear a commotion, then a blasphemy. Curious, he stood up, stepped off the dais and sauntered towards the double doors. The door was slightly ajar, so he only had to push it for it to swing open.

There was nothing in the corridor except for a distinct scent. Rosemary and thyme with a hint of something unrecognisable, he identified. A smell that had loitered in his bedchamber once you left. Wrinkling his aquiline nose, he caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned to see how a shadow dissipated at the end of the corridor.

Furrowing his brows and in long strides, Marcus covered the distance, tracking the distinct aroma — like a lost man after the beckoning of a nymph, he followed. As he was about to turn the corner, he almost collided with Maximus, Valerius and Cassius.

“My lord,” Cassius was the first to talk, “we were on our way to you. You wished to see us?”

Marcus tried to conceal his confusion at the sight of the three men. With his head slightly tilted, he asked, “Did you encounter anyone on your way to me, Commander?”

Cassius slowly shook his head no, baffled by the question. “No, Dominus, no one. Were you expecting someone else?”

The General hmphed, taciturn. He needed to be cautious — if the tapestries were right, ungodly, mythical creatures lingered between the walls of the castle. Evil ones at that.

“Worry not”, Marcus rapidly dismissed. “Follow me, gentlemen.”

The four men sat at the rectangular table on the dais, Marcus’ fingers drumming on the wood as Maximus flattened a piece of parchment before him.

“These are some names that have been thrown around in the last few days, people who may act on their rebellious comments. Our spies have been trying their best to mix in with the townies, but they are tough nuts to crack. They are wary even of the people who speak their own language”, Maximus’ index finger slid down the list as he talked.

Marcus’ hand darted forward and pinched one corner of the parchment, pulling it towards him. His eyes scanned the unfamiliar names.

The barbarians did not use surnames, which spoke to their lack of sophistication. Instead, they used patronyms and the land where they were born, so the list made it difficult to identify individuals who might belong to the same family. Knowing what families were a menace would be a great advantage, one they did not have.

“There seems to be a recurrent name here”, Marcus paused, his fingertip pointing to the words scribbled in lead ink. “Seumas and Anndra of Dail an Eich (Dalneigh), sons of Aengus. Who is this Aengus?”, he questioned, looking up to the frowning faces.

“We are not sure, Dominus. As I said, the villagers are not talking much”, Cassius replied, his fingers intertwined, resting atop of the wooden table.

“Well, find out then. I don’t care how you get the information. Just get it”, Marcus’ back reclined against the chair he was sat on. He felt like they were wasting his time with trivial details. He needed more than that.

“You didn’t get Murdoch’s wife to talk, even when she was hanged half dead in a cage off the main tower, after being brutally tortured and whatever else you inflicted upon her, and you expect us to get names just like that?”, Valerius’ insolence spoke for him.

Marcus’ eyes lazily locked on his commander’s. He should have his ill-mannered tongue cut out for such disdainful arrogance. Valerius’ Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he forcefully swallowed, his eyes slightly widened, realising his impertinence.

Whispers flew around the town; his name being cursed from mouth to mouth. Marcus was not too worried about whatever rumours they could spread about him. They probably would be true — he was no saint.

But Marcus had not been the one who had ordered such distasteful death upon Mòrag, wife of Murdoch. Agricola did, with no respect for his name when he dropped it mid-sentence. Marcus did not even lay an eye on her, even less a hand.

Let them all think what they might. Marcus was used to being the scapegoat of the governor — when something went wrong, Agricola would blame him. And when something went right, he would just take credit for himself, the evil, power-thirsty rat.

He looked at Valerius dead in his eyes, one cocked brow showing his mild incredulity.

“Do you have something to say, Valerius? I hear a certain condemning tone in your words?”, his voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but the reality was there was a raging fire within him he could not make manifest.

“Absolutely not, my lord”, the man bowed his head to him, his knuckles white.

“Then be gone. All of you. Find those two men or I will have you hanged too.”

The resolution in his tone scared the seasoned warriors, who quickly said their goodbyes and hurriedly left the premises.

Marcus’ elbows sunk in the wooden table, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He was angry, but amongst all, he was tired — tired of masking, of cleaning up after Agricola’s hideous actions, of power plays, of trickery, betrayal and deception. He was surrounded by it all.

At eight and forty, he was tired of war and conquest. He had seen it all, lived it all. If retirement would be an option, he would gladly take it. But he knew — he would wield a sword till the day he died in a godforsaken battlefield, till Pluto welcomed him with open arms. Rome would not have him any other way.

Marcus Acacius was truly exhausted.

So it was him who had your beautiful màthair tortured and hanged in a cage until she greeted death. Your blood boiled as your breath quickened. The rage flickered inside you like wild flames burning down an entire civilisation.

When the rangers announced your arrival to a few selected loyal men who had stayed behind, they got out at night to cut the ropes holding the cage your mother had been thrown in. They did not want you to see such act of savagery.

Your kinsmen had really tried to conceal how badly damaged your mother’s body was. Despite the heartache, you had been grateful that they had gone to the effort of making her somewhat presentable. But one look at her mangled body had been enough to understand what type of wickedness you were up against.

In the dead of night, you had buried Mòrag, the woman who so selflessly gave you life, in the outskirts of town. Just like her other children and husband, she would not rest under the family’s chambered cairns. Your family had been wiped out of history as if they were mere droplets in a vast ocean of human tragedy.

With one ear flat against the wooden door to the great hall, you unknowingly squinted your eyes, trying to listen to the rest of the conversation. If someone caught you eavesdropping, you would have a lot of explaining to do. But so far your spying was being productive — you would need to warn your cousins when you got home that night.

The faint sound of approaching footsteps made your heart jolt in your chest.

“Cac (shite)!”, you swore, frantically looking for a place to stow yourself away.

Picking up your skirt so you would not trip, you hid in a nearby garderobe. The cupboard smelt sweet and musty — barrels of wine decorated the whole height of the stone walls. The scent was so intense, you felt it soaking through your skin, appeasing the craze that had a tight grip on your mind. The darkness that surrounded you only accentuated your sense of smell. Could you get inebriated just with the sugary aroma of grape juice?

When the booted treads slowly faded away, you quietly pushed the door open, emerging back into the cold corridor — the contrasting temperature between the garderobe and the hallway gave you goosebumps. Palm flat against the wood and the other hand tightly gripping the iron pull handle, you gently shoved the door back into its frame, hoping to make no noise.

“What are you doing?”, a deep, masculine voice startled you, making you jump on the spot.

A set of warm, firm arms wrapped around you as you stumbled with your feet. They enveloped you so steadfastly, your body involuntarily relaxed against the person behind you. Leaning back, your back met the cold touch of metal.

Swallowing a profanity that would bring a repenting clergyman down to his knees, you turned around, in the arms that held you tight, to face the embodiment of hate. Your hate.

Marcus Acacius was standing, all righteous and proud, intimately close to you. He was wearing an impeccable white armour with golden details. Two flaxen griffins adorned the center of the plackart, their claws wrapping around a floral design. Linen straps, snug around his hips, fell from his waist, covering the fauld and the tasset underneath.

Marcus’ body was a fountain of warmth, even with all the layers enfolding his frame. His arms, although tense around you, did not feel suffocating — in fact, they were almost coddling you into a state of ataraxia as your brain quietened. His hug exuded a sense of security you had not felt in years — as if nothing nor no one could ever harm you as long as you stayed in Marcus’ embrace.

You traced the topography of his plackart with your fingers, your palms resting against the alloy, as your eyes peeked up —he was considerably taller than you— and were met with the fervour of two brown irises. Their gravity pulled you in for an eternal second. With your face near his, you picked up on the tired bearing on his face, the wrinkles around his eyes, the hard press of his lips. A kempt but patchy beard coated his jawline, and salt and peppered hair curled at the nape of his thick, muscular neck — a stray silver lock caressing his forehead, asking to be tucked away.

Your fingertips suddenly itched with longing, your eyes slightly widened, and your mouth partially parted. And then you came back to reality with the full force of your conscience yapping at you. What the hell? You had to control the contortion of your face so your disappointment would not be evident. It’s because I want to slap him so bad, was your afterthought.

Something changed in his expression — Marcus suddenly let you go, leaving you cold again. As if it was a rehearsed move, you both took a step back, breaking the electric contact that snapped between your bodies.

You now realised his clean image was a shocking contrast to how you first met him. Covered in mud, blood and sweat, his untamed expression as he dispatched your father still haunted you at night. And that was how you had to remember him. Sinking his gladius in your father’s belly. And nothing else.

“Well?”, the General insisted after clearing his throat, his eyebrows knitting together as he folded his arms.

You rapidly lowered your gaze when you realised you had been looking at him too intently, too directly. A maid would have fainted at the audacity you had just shown him. But you were no maid — albeit he was not privy of such detail for obvious reasons.

You hoped he didn’t notice, although you could feel his eyes studying you eagerly.

“I— I was looking for wine, Dominus.” You faked the stammering in an attempt to convey innocence. “Cormag, the cook, wants a very specific wine to accompany your supper, Dux Meus (My General/Leader). I was making sure we had it.”

“And what wine is that, if I dare ask?”, he pressed with a steely voice.

Thalla gu taigh na galla (go to hell), you thought, browsing your brain for a quick reply.

“It’s a fine wine imported from Carmo, my lord.” Your father had been a wine enthusiast, so you knew some places he had his wine shipped from. Not that it really meant anything to you, anyway.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his arms falling to his sides, his threatening posture softening.

“Carmo? In the Baetic region of Hispania?”, Marcus’ incredulous voice made you glance up at him through your long eyelashes.

You nodded, your fingers laced at your front as you bowed your head again, showing a deference you didn’t really feel towards him. And you prayed there was at least a few drops left of said wine in one of the barrels, or you would be in trouble come dinner.

“That’s one of my favourites”, he let slip and you instantly knew he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Feigning bravery, you fanned your eyelashes back at him, a half-smile softening your lips. The General almost looked mortified at the fact of letting a stranger know about his likes. You could see it in his eyes — the brief moment of asking himself, “What have I just said?” Although he seemed all stoic and unattainable, he was just a man. Just like any other.

“Is that so?” You did not wait for a reply you knew would never come. “I’ll try and remember that, Dominus, to make sure we never run out.”

He was a hard man to read, you would give him that. His expression didn’t flinch, as if your words had gone over his head. The only sign he had actually listened was a subtle tic on his jaw.

You just needed to drop some hints here and there, let him brew. If you were too obvious with your intentions, Marcus would become suspicious. You knew nothing about the man except he was a cold-blooded murderer, but perceived he was observant. Probably too observant.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I wish to retire now so I can attend to my tasks.” Asking for permission was not something that came naturally to you, but it was a trained response you had learnt from your late husband.

“Take your leave then”, he granted, his hands hiding on his back.

You curtsied. “Thank you, Dux Meus.”

Marcus turned on his heels in a swift whoosh, the sword swaying in front of him, his fingers gripping the handle tight. He intuited his opponent’s next move before it happened, so he bent his knees and ducked his head right under the swing of Maximus’ gladius. With a wild, toothy smile, Marcus pulled back, weighing the blade on his left hand.

“So predictable”, he teased the commander, who was an old friend of his.

If one could have friends in the midst of war, that was. Their friendship easily transformed depending on the circumstances — in war matters, Maximus knew to respect Marcus above everything else. Outside of that, they just were two friends with a long history behind them.

“I’m being gentle, lord General. We have spectators, I don’t want to embarrass you. I know your ego is as fragile as a rose’s petal”, Maximus chaffed, a grin taking over his mouth as they circled each other like two lions on the gladiator’s pit.

Marcus’ tunnel vision had him so tuned in on his friend’s advances, he had not realised that a small group of people had gathered around the makeshift arena. Feeling a sudden heaviness weighing him down, Marcus combed the gathered faces in one sweep.

Until his eyes locked in on yours. He saw a glimpse of wonder metamorphosing into surprise in your emerald greens — then you quickly withdrew your eyes from his at the realisation of getting caught staring.

There was something about you that drew him in — something mysterious, uncanny, but also strangely enticing. Exciting. Your eyes spoke of mischief, of adventure, of the unknown. Of something eerie, almost witchy. The flickering, iridescent fire within them had him under a spell for a brief moment.

Marcus vividly remembered holding you against his chest, your soft curves perfectly moulding to his hard edges. Even through the armour, he had felt the heat your body irradiated, the way it seeped through to envelop him, soothe him. For a moment, having you between his arms felt just right. And that thought had unsettled him gravely, letting go of you as such wild, unnerving concept sank in — his mind point-blank rejecting the notion.

Despite his inner refusal, how you looked back at him would plague him. For days and nights on end.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus watched as Maximus inched forward, the sword aiming at his open flank. Just in the nick of time, the General’s steel deflected the attack.

“Getting distracted? That’s unusual of you, Marcus”, the commander jeered at him, closing in.

Marcus scoffed at his words, bluffing. But the reality was that Maximus had hit the nail in the head. Not that he was going to acknowledge it in public anyway. If he was to successfully bring Maximus down, he needed to focus on the task at hand and not think about a green-eyed nymph.

Studying his adversary’s body language, his feet dragged on the sand. Maximus was on edge, tense, too focused on his sword, so Marcus wagered a distraction would tip the scales in his favour. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly knelt, the fingers of his non-occupied right hand extended, palm down. Maximus’ brows wrinkled when he saw Marcus getting a fistful of sand and the General knew he had the diversion he was looking for.

With Maximus focused on his right hand, too worried with a cloud of sand that would get in his eyes, Marcus took the chance, quickly stood up and swung his heavy sword against his rival’s left loin. Maximus did not have time to prepare for the impact and so dropped to the ground.

Marcus smiled with sufficiency, straightening out his aching back, and offered a hand to his old friend.

With a grunt, Maximus accepted his gesture and got up, palming Marcus’ back soundly.

“You treacherous man, making me believe you were going to blind me”, he quipped as they both started to walk out of the circle people had formed around them.

“There is no treachery in the art of war”, Marcus replied, patting his friend’s back in playful jest.

A loud snort made Marcus look around him. He had no time to fully study your face, but he could swear you had made that disapproving noise before turning on your heels and trotting off.

Confusion and a smidge of curiosity settled in him — what had he done to gain your dissent when a minute ago awe darkened your eyes? The sudden change in your attitude left a lingering question in the back of his head as he and Maximus ushered towards the barracks in the northwest corner of the bailey.

“But you shouldn’t be serving, mo bhean-uasal (my lady)”, whispered the young lass, her hands twisting in her lap with nervousness.

“Shush, Brighid, lower your tone.” Anxiously you checked out your surroundings, ensuring you were alone. You were relieved to know you were. “You cannae refer to me like that. I’m just Callie now, remember?”

Upon your arrival to Inbhir Nis, Torcall and your father’s retinue —now yours, you guessed— had made everyone aware that the Romans thought you dead and hence, concealing your identity was of utmost importance. A slip of a tongue and you would be hanging in a cage too. Every passing day you feared someone might forget and show you deference publicly — but you had to trust that no one would run off at the mouth and rat you out.

“Duilich (sorry), mo bh— Callie. I—I promise I didn’t mean to”, she profusely apologised, her big wide eyes begging for your pardon. The wee lass could not stop fidgeting.

“I know, I know”, you tried to calm her down, placing your hand on her forearm. “But please, I need to take your place tonight.”

“Cormag will fire me for not turning up. I cannae afford that, my family depends on me.” Her pleading plucked some fast beats out of your heart.

“Don’t fret about it, lass. I’ll speak to that old crank of a man, he owes me. You’ll get paid, awright? He’ll be fine with it, I promise.” You gently squeezed her forearm, so your words would sink in.

Her eyes broadened in understanding. Before the girl could think about her actions, she jolted forward, her arms wrapping around your shoulders. You could only smile at her relief and let out a soft cackle when Brighid lumbered back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry, do Ghras (Your Grace).” Her excitement was so palpable the poor girl didn’t notice the second blunder.

“BRIGHID!”, a raspy threat left your tongue as you jerked her closer to you by the elbow. “For the love of Morrìgan, do watch your mouth!”

The young servant covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes speaking of self-reproach as it dawned on her. “I’ll have it sewn”, she muttered with great remorse.

The guilt splayed across her heart-shaped face brought a smirk to your lips. “Off you go now, before your runny tongue gets me into trouble.”

Brighid scurried away towards the barbican, and you hurried along to the kitchens. You followed the tangled web of corridors and passages thoughtlessly — you had played hide and seek countless times with your siblings between the stone walls, there was no nook nor cranny you were not familiar with.

The air got denser as you approached, the thick smoke of the open hearth filling your lungs. Repressing a cough, you entered the galley as good ol’ Cormag was shouting orders at the helping lads. The head cook had an aging face, creases around his grey eyes and bulbous nose, and a thick bush of white hair — hair strands shooting in every direction, almost comically. He was short and round around the belly, living proof of his good, delicious cooking.

“Keep fanning the fire, ye lazy ass! Don’t you see it’s going to die out? Faster, stronger! Aren’t you supposed to be young and full of life?!”, Cormag had wrapped his thick fingers around the brittle wrists of the lad, forcing his feeble arms up and down, fingers tight around a thin plank of wood. “Tiugainn (come on), with more enthusiasm, ye numpty!”

“Do you really think that’s how you motivate the young lads to do a good job, Cormag?” You questioned his teaching approach, with folded arms and a cocked brow.

An oath escaped his mouth as the cook turned around, his face downcast at your reprimand. “Callie!”

Thank the gods someone remembered how to approach you now. It came easier to Cormag though, considering that he was almost like family to you. The old man had seen you grow, having served your father since before you were even born. He was there, on the background, to wave you goodbye every time you had to return to Am Baile Ùr. And each time you came back, he had a full plate of haggis with a side of neeps and tatties waiting for you.

“No wonder your apprentices quit so fast if you treat them like that, Cormag. Have you no manners?” You kidded — the man had the filthiest mouth of the shire.

“I was raised by an ogre, young lady, of course I don’t”, he jokingly replied, cleaning his dirty hands on the apron tied around his round belly.

“Aye, and Nessie was your pet. I’ve heard that story before awright. I am still to see proof of such claims though.” Unfolding your arms you approached him, immediately going in for a bear hug.

Cormag palmed your back enthusiastically and you circled his stout frame, sinking in the comfort of his presence. In the blink of an eye, you were a five-year-old crybaby being consoled by a younger Cormag because there were no more mutton pies left that you could shove down your tiny mouth.

“I heard you were back, fear beag (little one). Wondered when you’d come visit this old git.” With a last squeeze, he took a step back, his hands placed on your shoulders. “Know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times now, but I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

His whisper was loaded with a heavy affection that shot your heart down to your stomach. Pressing your lips to stop your face from contorting at the memory of being alone in this world, you nodded, almost frantically, and sniffed. His eyes were a reflection of yours — the friendship between your athair and Cormag had been a staple in your life for as long as you could remember.

“But let’s not get all teary now!”, his demeanour changed as he rubbed your shoulders before taking a step back. “Got something for you.”

He turned around to rummage through a rattan basket on one of the counters. Cormag exclaimed an enthusiastic “Ha!” when he got his hands on what he was looking for. Then he presented his discovery to you with a flourish that made you crow.

When you saw the peachy plum on the palm of his hand, you almost squealed. “Plums!” You quickly snatched it, afraid he would take it away.

“I arranged for these to be brought from Fachabair (Fochabers). The cook who serves the clan chief there is an old friend of mine.”

“But Cormag, plums are not in season yet!” You marvelled at the sight, munching on the delicious fruit eagerly. Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head.

“I know.” He winked at you mysteriously, but you didn’t press the matter if it meant you could get your hands on some more plums.

“I did come to you with a favour to ask”, you batted your eyelashes at him, anticipating his disapproval.

He looked at you, inquisitorial — it was his turn to fold arms at the chest. Cormag snapped his tongue as if to say, “do go on”.

“I already convinced Brighid so you cannae be mad at her. In fact, I promised her you wouldn’t.” You grinned at him, his face already puckering with exasperation. “I’m taking her place tonight as a serving maid.”

“Have you lost your damn mind, lass? Nay, I’m not having it”, he quickly dismissed you, grunting.

“I’m not asking for permission. I need to be there, I—” Just in time, you remembered that the two lads were still running around the fireplace, trying to keep the flames alive. “I’ll fill you in later, but I have to be there, there’s no discussion about it.”

“What? Serving that Roman scoundrel? There’s more royal blood in you than there is in him.” He was more offended than you were.

You laughed, patting his forearm. The old man already hated the Romans more than you did, and that was difficult to accomplish.

“Aye, and that’s not the worst bit, Cormag”, you teased him, because you knew he would lose his mind with rage.

“Enlighten me”, he said between gritted teeth.

“We are serving the Corma wine tonight with supper”, you pursed your lips, watching his reaction.

His round face turned all shades of red, and his nostrils flared. If it was physically possible, his ears would be steaming too, like a ceramic pot with boiling water over the open fire.

“NAY, OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY!”, he exploded, shaking his arms over his head in disbelief, and you burst into laughter. Cormag was too expressive. “Ah, no, NO. We are not wasting such finery on that murderous cunt!”

You blinked rapidly at him to appease his fury, but his rage just gleamed brighter.

“Well… I kinda told him we would. You winnae make me look like a liar, right, Cormag?”, you muttered, as if you were a child who had committed the grave felony of stealing a sweet off the counter.

“You did WHAT?!”, he snorted angrily.

“Tìoraidh (bye)!”, you effusively waved him goodbye as you bit into the plum, sprinting off and ducking when you heard the wooden spoon flying by your ear.

“Trobhad (come here)!”, but you had already turned the corner into the hallway.

Why he was so taut, he did not fully understand. Marcus’ body was in high alert, and he had his suspicions about the cause.

You were just a woman like any other. Sure, your green eyes flickered like hellfire, your red hair was so bright it looked like you were up in flames, your upturned nose covered in freckles twitched adorably, and the skin on your hands was unusually soft — but that was it, really.

So you were nothing out of the ordinary, he kept telling himself. But it was hard to keep to that line of thought when your breast would brush against his shoulder every time you approached to clear the table from empty plates, when your velvety fingers would briefly caress the back of his hand while reaching for his cutlery, or when you would talk too close to his ear, a tingling sensation on the back of his neck almost making him shiver uncomfortably.

Marcus did not know if you were doing it on purpose or not — your face had an innocent look to it that was hard to read for him. The most prudent thing would be to ignore it all — ignore you. Surely you were only being suggestive in his imagination. And he still had the feeling something had upset you that afternoon when you stormed off after his training session.

“How’s the wine, Dux Meus?”, your sweet voice trickled from your plush lips like honey.

The way you kept referring to him as Dux Meus unsettled him. The first time you had said it during your encounter in the corridor, it caused certain havoc in his mind — and body.

Although it was appropriate for his title, no one really referred to him like that. My leader, my general, my god. It was the last connotation what made him feel… uneasy, for lack of a better word. It just sounded too intimate, the way it would pour from your oval-shaped mouth.

Marcus blamed it on Latin not being your first language. If you knew how seductively it rolled from your lips, he was sure you would stop addressing him like that straight away. Which meant he should correct you, tell you to just stick to Dominus.

But for whatever inexplicable reason, he did not.

“It’s as tasty and earthy as I remember it.” He replied, his fingers wrapping around the chalice with more strength than what was necessary.

You smiled at him, one of your hands gently placed on his right shoulder giving him a subtle squeeze.

“I’m glad to hear it, my lord”, you mumbled, Marcus’ eyes following the movement of your hand when you broke contact.

You inched forward over his shoulder to grab the glass jug and refill his cup, gifting him with the sight of your generous cleavage — your breasts almost spilling over the neckline of the dark blue, linen dress that so tightly wrapped around your hourglass figure.

Marcus had to swallow hard, tension suddenly building up on his groin. Was he getting hard just by the mere touch of a woman? He sucked in his breath while forcing himself to look forward, not down.

He just nodded in reply, unable to find his voice. If he had talked, he would have just groaned in frustration. Marcus had to readjust his posture as he saw you walking away, your waist evocatively swaying sideways with every step you took.

“I’m sure the wine is not the only tasty thing around here.”

Maximus’ whispered jest forced Marcus to look in his direction, turning to his left. They, along with the other commanders and a few other people of importance, were sat on the table on the dais, facing the crowd. Other tables were scattered around the great hall, where some legionnaires were enjoying a meal and a drink, sharing a joke and bursting in laughter.

“I don’t follow”, he grunted, feigning ignorance, before taking a sip.

“Oh, you do follow. At least your eyes do.” Maximus mocked him while Marcus just sneered at him, eyes squinting. “No one would blame you though. We are far away in an unknown land, and we all have needs to satisfy. I myself am considering getting laid tonight.”

“I did not doubt you would.” Men like Maximus had no consideration for their wives.

Neither does Livia, the intrusive thought wiggled its way through his mind. Despite the lack of passion in bed with his spouse, Marcus had been a faithful husband. While others looked for warmth in the folds of a pleasure woman after a battle, the General would tend to his wounds and rest, focusing on what next skirmish lied ahead.

And while he had been loyal although there was never love between them, Livia had been fucking the “love of her life”, as she had referred to the man stuffing her cunt full during his long absences. Marcus was yet to know his name. What he would do with that information, he did not know.

Thinking of his perfidious wife had an extinguishing effect on him. The strain against his subligaculum (underwear) had softened.

“You’re too tense, Marcus. You need to relax, have some fun. I bet you two denarii that she will fuck the stress out of you expertly, I can tell.” Maximus pressed maliciously, conscious of how uncomfortable the conversation would make Marcus feel.

“Just shut up, will you?”, Marcus snapped back, tired of his friend’s quips, and downing the drink in his cup.

Maximus laughed it off and turned to talk to Cassius when you sauntered towards the table again, stopping right behind him.

“More wine, Dux Meus?”, you asked, infusing your honeyed voice with a sweet touch of flirtation.

You bent over his shoulder again, hand lazily looking for the wine jug in front of him. His hazel eyes fell on your bosom again and your nipples involuntarily hardened at the desire you saw in him — you were sure he noticed them peeking through the thin fabric.

In your attempts to arouse him, your body was betraying you, getting warm in all the wrong places. As much as you wanted to be immune to your own provocative games, you were not. But it wasn’t him who made you wet with lust, you told yourself. It was your own actions, nothing else. The long game.

But Marcus quickly tamed his expression, grinding his jaw and looking away.

“No, I’m okay”, he rejected your offer, hovering his hand over the chalice so you would not pour more.

You forced your lips into a flat line. You needed the man to let go of his defences. Having him drunk would help with that. But not tonight, apparently.

You nodded.

“Of course, Dominus.” You placed the jug back down on the table, your left breast brushing his right shoulder again.

You bit down your bottom lip, your free fingers curling on the back of his chair. It’s just the game, you thought to yourself again, your core slick and hot.

Slowly you retreated to the kitchens, fully aware of Marcus’ eyes feasting on your body. You smiled to yourself — he might be a taut General, but he was just a man.

A deceitful man at that, who thought there was no treachery in the art of war. Was that how he defeated your father? With deception? You had been too far to see and hear how the fight between your father and Marcus had unfolded, but having been witness to how the General distracted his opponent that afternoon, you wondered if he had followed similar tactics with Murdoch. If your father’s demise was just a byproduct of Marcus’ boldness.

The memory of Marcus being your father’s executioner put out the liquid fire in your crotch. And rightly so.

It wasn’t long before the Romans started to vanish from the great hall, retreating to the barracks or to town, maybe looking for the comfort only a woman could offer.

When you walked back out to clear the last plates, you saw the General leaving the room. Alone. Where he intended to go you did not know, but you had to make sure he was not considering joining the men in town — if he was to choose a woman to enliven his bed, he should pick you.

“Isla, I’ll be back in a minute.” The lass gave you a puzzled look as the bits you had gathered previously clattered against the wooden table when you let go of them.

You hurried forward to meet him as he swung the double doors open, the cold breeze of the corridor filtering into the great hall.

“Dux Meus, wait please”, you interjected in the hopes he would stop walking.

Indeed, he did. His whole body stiffened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. You were not sure what to make of that reaction — exasperation or frustration. You hoped for the second, especially the good kind of frustration.

As soon as you reached him, you placed a daring hand on his forearm — an unusual surge of energy sparked at the contact between your skins, giving you goosebumps. You quickly retrieved your hand with certain surprise, the tingling sensation evaporating right after.

“I trust everything was good?”, you queried, tilting your head to one side.

“Yes. Now I’ll retire to my bedchambers. Bonum noctis (good night)”, his words dragged for a second, “Callie.”

There it was again, your name falling from his lips as if it belonged to him. It angered and pleased you equally. If he pronounced it like that on purpose you did not know, but it surely felt like it.

Before you could come up with an answer, he trudged to his right and you took a step forward.

“That is not the way to the main bedchamber, my lord. You should follow this other corridor instead”, you pointed to the left.

He paused and turned around to face you. A lingering question danced in his pupils, but whatever it was, he did not say out loud. Instead, he nodded.

“I am aware. However, I have taken a different bedroom.” He did not give you an explanation, but you could have a good guess. Your father always complained his bed was like a blanket of spikey rocks. “I am now lodged in the second tower, the room in the top floor.”

You tamed your face into nothingness, but internally you flinched at his reply. He was sleeping in your room, in your bed. The thought of him naked with your bedlinen draped around his waist and thick legs made you gush. Fuck.

This was unknown territory to you — although you had been married for ten years, you had not known pleasure in the bedchamber. Iain just chased his own release, using you in disgusting ways, proving you that you were the problem, not him — that your womb was barren. You had been told by your friends that fucking was enjoyable for both parties, but you were yet to discover that. Maybe the dampness your legs harboured was a start?

“I see”, you curtsied, fingers laced on your back, looking up at him through your long eyelashes.

“How come you speak Latin?” His question blurted out, catching you completely off guard.

Marcus had a nick for inconvenience, forcing you to come up with lies on the spot. Luckily you were astute and creative.

“My late father was a scrivener to Murdoch. He taught me how to speak Latin, as it was his favourite language.”

“He passed?” You simply nodded. “I trust you still have family around though?”

You shook your head no. You killed them all, ye cunt. But you could not express your hatred out loud. Although when the time came, you would. Aye, you definitely would.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” For a second you believed him, his tone almost sorrowful.

“It was a long time ago.” You lied through your teeth, shrugging. “I’ll leave you to your rest now. Oidhche mhath (good night), Marcus.”

You heard a loud sigh being drawn into his lungs, possibly because of your cheekiness — calling him by his first name was a very bold move on your part. Maybe too bold.

Before he could reprimand you for your audacity, you scuttled back into the great hall, a sufficient grin tugging at your lips.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel @pepperstories

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dragonsoulage · 1 month ago

Text

Giving back the bird's wings...

feat. Levi Ackerman

After some observing Levi confrontes you about your relationship with your boyfriend. He can't longer look and ignore the feeling that tugged at his heartstrangs. You deserve so much better...

In this story you are working for the survey corps as maid in the headquarters. And you have a really toxic relationship with your boyfriend. Idk why but writing for Levi always makes me want to write something angsty. So here we are ☠️✨ please be aware that some things can trigger. So take a look at the warnings.💖 Oh and I suck in proof reading ☠️

Wordcount:4k

Warnings: Angst, ab*sive relationship, tox*c relationship, mentions of domest*c v*olence, sad, but fluff especially in the end. Levi is really tender with you 💖

You sat there in his office, tears streaking your beautiful face. It hurt him, more than it hurt you.

He found out what happened, not that it was that hard at all, people just needed to take a closer look, a more concerned look behind that happy exterior you always put on.

It was convincing, nearly so convincing that Levi himself might not notice, not right away.

But he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

You were a sweet girl, you have always been. So giving and selfless. You weren't in the corps, no. But you worked for them as a maid.

You cleaned and made the beds for the scouts. You cooked and served, and of course always had an ear for everyone who needed it. Not only that, but you were part of the group who made the scout feel like family. Especially the trainees, the new ones.

Levi was always gruff, pretending he would find you annoying.

Although it was indeed the opposite. He knew you was a person that probably would give someone else your last money because they needed it more than you. Too good for this cruel world, too good for him.

Not that he ever had a chance, he always thought to himself. You were taken, not a single lady. Your boyfriend was part of the military policy. A tall guy, strong and really an eye-catcher. But well even when he always seemed so concerned for you, or so nice. He wasn't.

Levis steel blue eyes looked at you, how you hid your face behind your hair. That pain on your face, it tugged in his heart strings.

Why you were sitting here?

Well, after Levi slowly found out what kind of man your boyfriend was, he simply observed you. Some signs were clear, he wasn't dumb. He saw how you hid your bruises, how you cried alone, ate alone. Always trying to avoid when someone asked you...really asked you how you have been.

But tonight he had enough of observing and lurking around you. He was sure, your tears you shed give it all away.

A barrier that broke after he pointed it out.

"It's not like you think, he can be gentle, I swear. Sometimes he just doesn't know how he should control his strength." your voice was thin, even now you was defending this piece of shit? This man, who claimed to love you? And yet hurt you so much.

"Stop defending him. He hurts you, you don't hurt people that way when you love them." his voice was cold, he was angry. Not at you, of course not. His hand went through his raven strands. "You are too good for him, you give him everything and he did what? Throwing it away? And you still think it's your fault?" There was a chuckle that ran down your spine, he was not amused far from it.

"Some people need-" you wanted to start why you saw something good, you always saw something good, even in the captain himself.

"It still makes my blood run cold, to remember what he did before. You never told me anything at all, or anyone. I don't watch, (Y/N)." he stated firm, and he was really concerned, for you. Too soft, to get hurt by someone like this, a bird in a cage which wings were cut off.

He stood up from his seat makes his way around the desk before he stopped in front of you. Your head hanging low.

"It's not like I would be oblivious, i-I know what he does." You meant, your voice trembling. When you were small you always wanted a man like you had now, big and strong, popular among the ranks, a smile that makes your heart warm, until you discovered his smile, your boyfriend heart was not real. His smile never reached his eyes. It made you believe that simply you was too different for this world. You were the problem, in being too sensitive, too emotional. Caring too much for everything. You were a smart girl, but you lost your own worth for yourself.

Thinking it was all you ever could get.

"When you know, why then you are still there?" he asked in a deep voice, still standing in front of you, looking down at you. He wanted to get a reaction from you, wanted you to see how damn wrong this was.

"Where else should I go? What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your voice filled with sorrow and yet with anxiety.

"I want you to speak it out." Levi meant, and in his head he was killing this man about the 100th time.

"Speak out what? That hitting your girlfriend is wrong? That insulting her is wrong? Making her do things, she never wanted but never had a choice? This is the world we were born in, everyone has problems. Mine is not different. It is what it is, not that I deserve anything at all when I am taking everything too my heart, I try... I fucking try. And it is me who-" you said, and your voice went a little louder in the end, you wanted to lash out not knowing why, tears started to run down your cheeks again. He stopped you, grabbing your chin and lifted it so you were forced to look at him.

"You are not aware how this makes my blood thin, to remember what you are to him." Levi himself talking a little louder because of the intensity of this situation. He would never allow anyone to touch you like that again. He would rather die than have the hands of this filthy man on you.

Alone the thought how much you suffered at these hands, not just physical.

But the Captain was right, what were you to your boyfriend? A question you asked yourself a lot, wanted to be better, wanted to improve, although you were already perfect in other eyes...in Levis eyes.

"What am I?" you asked, and you looked so vurnable to him, he wanted to shield you from anything cruel this world offered you.

"You are...precious." these words simply came out of his mouth before he could stop them. Not that they were not true, but maybe because they were too true, to himself.

"(Y/N) you are lovely, probably one of the most...purest people I know. You take care of everyone and everything around you, simply because this is the being you are. You make a place feel like home, because you are home." his voice lower this time laced with raw honesty, not that he sounded pretty about that, it was everything he usually would never say out loud. He then went to one of his knees and hold your hand. Your teary eyes widen, no one ever said anything like that to you. No one appreciated your personality like this.

"At least to me..." he than added thin. You took a shaky breath, tried to wipe your tears away. But his hand already was on your cheeks, his thumb collecting the salty fluid.

"Why are you saying this?" you asked him, it was irony still asking questions if this was true, how bad this man had damaged you?

"Because otherwise you wouldn't see it, not that you would see this now, he damaged you, broke your wings." Levi stated and there was this glint in his eye, a silent promise to himself.

"He broke more than that, he never had a nice word what he really meant." you spoke and at least you now was lured out of your shell, telling him what you really felt. Levi meant every word he said to you. And he was not known to say things like that. You were that sweet expectation, he needed to let you know what you were to him...you were home.

"Levi..." your thin voice spoke his name with such a need, because you felt so lost.

"I give them back to you, I promise." he said it just made you cry more. You felt like you wanted to crawl inside you, away from this situation. Levi would give you back your wings, that were cut of so rudely.

"Shhh." he soothed you then before you was pulled into a warm hug. You were sobbing, like crying out every bit of pain your boyfriend gave you.

After that conversation, Levi would never allow you to go back to that bastard, not with the knowledge he had.

You stayed in the headquarters. Levi stayed the whole time by your side, until you fell asleep, you were just so exhausted from all the crying and the distress. After he was sure you slept safe and sound he made his way out.

"Where you're going to this time?" a known voice was heard behind him, Levi turned around it was the Commander Erwin.

"Taking care of things." he replied, and it was with a cold tone, hard like steel. Erwin for sure wasn't clearly in the picture what had happened, but he knew Levi wouldn't react like this when it wouldn't be necessary.

"What things?" Erwin asked sternly.

"Removing some trash around here." Levi answered, not giving away at all what his dark plans were.

"Whatever you need to do, make sure it disappears thoroughly." the Commander said before he let Levi go his way. He knew he was going to kill someone, and that someone would be your heartless boyfriend....

Levi knew you would cry, he knew you would break. But you were broken long ago from a person who never even deserved all the love you could give.

His stepped were determined, with that one purpose. Someone who was just so fragile as you and yet so strong trying to hold your head above water, it hurt him.

You were drowning all by yourself, and this bastard of a man pushed your head underwater, filling your lungs so you couldn't scream.

It was unfair to him, like so many things. So many things weren't right, but this, this was not just something. You were good, lovely even, and Levi knew when it was time to let things rest, but this? How should he rest when he knows the bitter truth that someone was making your life harder. Making your life...not worthy.

When Levi reached his place he wanted to be he took a deep breath before he knocked on that door.

Someone opened it, indeed your boyfriend with that bright smile, that smile that teared you apart.

"The Captain of the Survey Corps, how can I help?" he asked him not aware how the next hour would go for him. Besides the fact that he didn't even ask for you. Your work was done about 3 hours ago, and you didn't come home. Levi knew that because he was the one who stopped you from going home.

"Hm, just checking up on things. Your girlfriend works for us, just doing some check-ups." Levi said gruffly in a low voice, his eyes looked hard, although they always did. He was short yes but not less an authority, he stepped into your home, the home you shared with this man.

"Oh yeah of course, we do these check-ups too, in our ranks." your boyfriend replied with curt smile letting Levi in.

"Where is she?" the Captain asked quiet stern, as he walked through the living room his hand resting on the sofa you probably used to sit.

"(Y/N)? Running some errands by now, she is always up on her legs. Like the good maid she is." he chuckled and well indeed he had this charm, seeming so nice and polite. All an act just to make people think he would be worth something. The short man sighted running a hand through his hair before his steps stopped. Turning around to the man.

"Errands? To this time? Isn't it a little late for that?" he cocked his head to the side, like if he was testing him. Your boyfriend was lying into his face, like he lied to everyone. It made Levis heart heavy to know that you belonged to this piece of shit. Someone who not even cherished you, who wouldn't give anything to you. Not more than a hit to you, not more than just empty words.

How often had you cried, because of him? How often your pretty eyes turned red? How often did you hid in your bedroom, hoping the next fight would be over. It was nearly like Levi could see all those things happen when he was inside this place.

"Well, yes it is late. But you know her, right? She wants to get things done." the other man meant not giving away anything. Levi groaned before the door was closed from the outside.

"Yeah she wants that, she always does a good job." Levi meant and walked closer to the tall guy who claimed to love you.

"It's not safe at all for a woman like her to wander around alone to this time, don't you think?" his voice cold, not a hint of warmth. God Levi would give everything, everything to protect you. Slowly your boyfriend turned irritated by these questions, the behavior. He furrowed his eyebrows tried to wave this off.

"Women like her?" he asked Levi with a certain edge in his voice.

"Women like her....soft, and good, make you warm around your heart with a single smile. Make your day better by walking by. The way she pours in tea...with such a determination to make someone happy nearly can be annoying when it wouldn't be so beautiful." Levi mumbled more to himself, when he realized how much you meant to him. How much you affected him.

"You don't deserve her, and you know it don't you?" Levi asked him the direct looking nearly menacing in his face.

"What you are talking about? Sure you are still doing check-ups?" your boyfriend asks and slowly there was this other side getting out, his face turning stern and angry.

"Yeah, check-ups on you. You really thought you hid it well enough?" Levi started and well Levi was shorter yes, but this guy wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"It is not of your concern what is between me and my damn girlfriend." he stated with a low and dangerous voice, all that bubbly and happy side he appeared vanished in this second, it was clear it was never real.

"She is my concern, she was when she started working by us. She hides her bruises well enough, you don't hit her face, I give you that." Levis words meant to provoke, to justify his actions he would take. And Indeed your boyfriend never hit your face, it was always so pretty, and he didn't want to ruin it, but he didn't want anyone to notice what was happening behind closed curtains.

"And? What now? Reporting me to the higher ups? Congratulations Captain, no one cares about a fucking maid." your boyfriend claimed with a cruel chuckle, cracking his knuckles.

"It's already too late for that, when you really think this here has a happy ending for you, than you have not paid enough attention boy." Levi grumbled and then it started...

That "fight" was short, indeed short, your boyfriend was so fast on the ground with Levis form hanging over him, bashed against the wall. Not more than a howling hound now.

"Please, I never do it again!" that tall guy cried, after he got hit many times in the face. His wrists already broken because of Levi.

"I swear! Stop, please." he begged, begged for his life, never did he thought something like that would happen. That someone would come and actually give him a lesson, but more than that to actually punish him for what he did.

"You didn't stop, when she asked you to." Levi spit out into his face, maybe it was wrong, maybe this was the wrong approach to do it. But man like him would never change, they would find the next victim. You already suffered enough... maybe it would hurt, but this pain, Levi knew he would be able to heal it for you. At least this is what he wanted to try.

With some more action of Levis fists your boyfriend slumped to the ground, alive but barely breathing. He asked himself why someone like Levi came to do justice for you.

"You want her to yourself." he stated with a weak and raspy voice.

"It's not about what I want, but what needs to be done. She suffered in your hands, and this what I gave you was not even the half of everything she went through. How could you hurt her?" Levi asked him grabbing his throat looking him dead in the eyes.

"Because she let me... because she is that pretty bird I wanted to keep in that cage." he answered and maybe your boyfriend was now honest for the first time in his life.

"She is good and you knew that. A shame that a man like you had her, had the chance to love a precious being like her and yet ended up locking her up, cutting off her wings, for what use? Because you felt strong? What a pity you need to be, when you need to hurt others to feel strong? Piece of shit." Levis voice was dangerous sharp like a dagger he meant every word, he was so angry at this guy.

"And now do me a favor and fucking die." was the last Levi said to him before he snapped his neck.... it was done now, he removed the trash.

Weeks went on after this incident, your boyfriend...he was being missed, his body not found, simply no one expected him to be dead, but he vanished.

You were aware what had happened, even when Levi never told you exactly that he committed murder. It was not like that tit was selfish, but he couldn't watch, couldn't watch how you would always be haunted by the actions of this man. And well...you truly let your happy guard down, behind that a sad girl, a broken one. So much weight on your delicate shoulders, a weight he wanted to lift. Levi would carry every burden, even when you never wanted him to.

He gave you time, not even expecting you to love him, to show him a sign of something, a small glimpse. Everything he wanted was that you felt safe, felt cherished.

Levi was in his office again but when he looked outside the window for just a fleeting moment, his eyes caught your sight.

You stood there in your maid dress you always wore, you finished working. Standing outside and handing out some pastries you bake. Of course Sasha was literally eating out your hand before Connie and Jean could get some. You weren't healed, but you seemed lighter, there was something about you now...something that made him want to believe it was justified what he did. He would give everything to a new sight to drink you in. The woman that was so gentle, yet always ready to give everything she could, just for a smile from another. The Captain found solace in watching you, your features highlighted by the sun. These lips that curled into a warm chuckle. These eyes that always gave away how you felt. At least to those who took a look, a real look.

He would give everything to borrow your indifference to see the world through your eyes.

You two had something together, the world had been unfair to both of you and yet you were able to be like this. Able to give that what Levi couldn't show. Not that these feelings weren't there, he cared a lot, more than he would admit, but you were the part that showed it.

You would complete him.

After you gave the three scouts the pastries you then went inside again, not many moments went over and he heard a knock. "Come on in." he replied with a curt voice. And there you was, none of you talked about the fact he made your boyfriend disappear.

You opened the door, with a tray in your hands, a warm cup of tea, Earl Grey, no sugar with a shot milk. And one of the pastries you bake, glazed with honey and walnuts.

"Before my shift is over I don't wanted you to pass out the chance to get one of those, before Sasha and Connie will kill all the pastries." you spoke with a sweet voice. You still seemed to carry a burden, yet you seemed lighter. You placed the tray on his desk, stood there next to him for a moment. Furthermore, you were thinking. There was this tension, the question if you should ask or not since weeks. The tension wasn't bad at all, but it was palpable. So much Levi felt it too.

"Your shift is already over, I know when it ends, and you worked longer than you have should." Levi pointed out with a short nod to the clock.

Indeed, your shift would have ended about 45 minutes ago. You wiped your hands on your apron before your face turned to him.

"Yeah maybe it was, but I enjoy being here. It's home now, remember?" you answered and was referring to the fact that he told you, you were home. And it struck his heart for a moment when you said that. You weren't shocked about what he had done? You were sweet and gentle yes, but not oblivious. Likewise, you knew your situation had been bad, probably when Levi wouldn't have noticed, when he wouldn't care you would still be locked away like the bird without wings you were.

Yearning for freedom. You were still learning, learning to fly, learning to take your freedom Levi gave you. You were living in the headquarters now, not that old home that hold so many gruesome memories to you.

He gave back your wings, the feathers slowly grow back, with each passing day.

"(Y/N)... I-" for once Levi wanted to start, wanted to explain why he did it. But you shut him up, with a simple gesture. Shoving the tray closer to him.

"You gave me back, what I wasn't able to get myself. Maybe it was not the perfect way. But...what is even perfect?" you asked instead you looked him deep in the eyes.

A silent understanding. It was a moment that not seemed to went over.

"You are." Levi replied, when he said that your eyes went so soft. It has always been like this, he never expected anything in return for what he did. He yearned for you, for so long, for that understanding and lovely woman you were. The way you made him warm around his heart.

Always feeling so unlucky when you had been taken, by a man who never truly wanted to see you. Because Levi saw everything about you. Every aspect that made you...you.

He lived like he got missing limbs, for you. So often he felt a piece missing. A missing heart next to his.

"Don't say that, Captain." you meant to him before you bend down a little because he was sitting, and you had been standing next to him.

"You said I am home... I want you to say that I feel like you are home too." you spoke before you took a deep breath, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

The usual stoic Captain, so composed. He felt vurnable for a short moment. Someone who saw behind his exterior, even with the things he has done, and would do again.

"Thank you, Levi. For everything." you whispered wanted to turn awa

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