#slowed these a bit so everything didn't go by too fast

[skullzy20]

The Hex in action - Warframe 1999 Animated Prologue

[dawnwriterimagines]

The Verdict Due

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1)

Innocents Among You (Part 2)

The Guilty Plea (Part 3)

Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: You head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

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Simon's steps are slow, lacking energy or purpose. Releasing the buckles strapping his vest down to him, he finally arrives to his door, lifting the camo from himself.

His forehead pressing into the wooden door, he finds it harder and harder to open everyday, seeing reminders of you every moment of everyday, when he closes his eyes, when he lays down in bed. Hell when he opens the door. He hated this room now.

Outside of the place that you both had made your home away from war, from battle, from the base, this was where the two of you had once spent most of your time.

He raised his head off the door, before bringing it back down on it, then doing it again, this time hard enough to hurt. "Fuck," he cursed, cursing himself, his stupid decisions, the times he'd never get back, the mistakes he'll never be able to erase. Huffing out bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut, he's still for a moment, before banging his fist against the wall. "Fuck!" There's a crackle along the wall, a clatter of dust and dried paint hitting his feet.

A shuddered breath leaves him, swallowing down his grief, his anger at himself. But, he can't help it. He's ruined everything.

Simon's head stays there against the doorway, he doesn't want to go in.

His head turns a bit, seeing a figure down the hallway, straightening up, dark eyes squinting. "Johnny?"

Quiet and Still. The Scotsman's mouth is set in a hard line, he runs a hand down his face, smearing the mess he'd made of himself. "I..." he breathes deeply. "I saw her today."

"You what?" Simon perks up, eyes wide. He looks past his comrade, seeing the open doorway of your room, "She's here," he speaks, voice alight and hopeful. Making his way past Johnny, "She's here?" he asks this time, bracing himself at her doorway.

But, the room is a mess and void of you. He'd nearly forgotten how the soldiers had left it, the day it happened he could watch it, it would've been too finalizing of what he thought was your betrayal. Today was meant to be the day they'd clean it all up, due to plaguing themselves with missions and ops that required long weeks, long hours. No one wanted to think about what they'd done.

But, now they'd only made another mistake in waiting too long. And now you had to be greeted by this mess.

"I didn't know it was--" Johnny couldn't turn back to the room, back to Simon, as he spoke. "I didn't know we did so much to her. I thought--how long--how could I--" he shakily began. "--how could you?" Simon's eyes flicker to his friend, dark circles and sunken cheeks seem to worsen. "She was so...she couldn't even look at me, Si. Like I'd make her sick, like I'd--hurt her again...I've never--" his fingers claw at his chest, hoping to rip away the ache in his heart, eyes haunted to tears and staring into the dark of his memory as he thought back. "I'd never--" he can't finish.

"She was here?" Simon asked again.

Johnny's clouded eyes look to Simon, opening his mouth before opting for nodding. Clearing his throat, finally seeming to get a handle on himself, "Just left."

"She what?" Simon bolts out towards the stairs, pushing through the doorway and jumping down the first flight to rush through the rest.

As he gets to the lobby floor, he shoves through the door, revealing the hallway to him, running down the long stretch before ramming into the side wall to catch himself at the corner. He continues down the way, running as fast as he's able, before bursting through the side doors of the front lobby.

He sees you immediately, beyond the glass doorways.

"(Y/n)..."

He's running before he can think to get his legs moving.

---

Leaving the dormitories, finally leaving behind the spare hospital wear that you had swapped for your own clothes, you waved down the first vehicle you'd seen.

The driver letting you into the truck, the two of you unaware as he begins to drive off, Simon shoving his way through the residential doors and coming to a stop in the middle of the street as you drive away.

You, having hopped a ride with one of the soldiers making his rounds, the Jeep shakes with the changing terrain, providing more conversation than the trooper that was much too quiet. Shifting his shoulders, adjusting his fingers around the leather, glancing one too many times through the mirror.

It was getting weird. But, you were a familiar face on the base, unfortunately now, it used to be because you were good at your job, the best sniper they had on the force. But now, it was because you were the first proclaimed traitor of the force in decades and the first to be wrong about.

So, the new attention is nothing to be pleased about.

"Find something interesting to look at, soldier?"

Back straightening, body stiffening and eyes facing the road, the trooper swallows thickly at having been caught eyeing you. "No, ma'am!"

"Then I suggest you keep your eyes on the road."

"Yes, ma'am!" clearing his throat. "Sorry, ma'am, I don't mean to stare."

Arms crossed, head turned to watch the smaller buildings go by, your jaw clenched. "It's fine..." you breathe, before relaxing a bit more as the drive goes farther and farther away from the residential areas. Eyes flickering over to the still tense trooper, you mutter. "Ease."

His shoulders drop, head turning, flustered. "Sorry, ma'am."

It was always strange to be called 'Ma'am' by fellow soldiers, usually you were only a year or so apart, others you had been younger by ten years or older by five. But, this trooper was new to the force, young, clearly still jumpy, you had been the same after your first missions on the Task Force.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the trooper then speaks, shakily.

"You don't have to keep--"

"About what happened to you," he continued. "I'm not sure if you heard that yet, but it's--that sounds--I can't imagine. I'm sorry that happened to you."

For a moment too long you're quiet, holding your breath, staring at the scenery as it whistled on past, the wind whipping through your hair. Your nails tearing into your skin as you rake them over your scars, smearing the line of blood left after ripping out your IV line, abandoning it as you found a ride.

"Get any cool scars out of it, at least?" he jokes, lightheartedly.

Your eyes snap his way, his eyes widening before he looks back to the road, back to stiff.

You open your mouth to speak, but you can't. You're just angry, too angry to find the words. But, you don't want to take it out on him, he was just attempting to alleviate whatever burden he imagined to be on your shoulders. But, all it was was a reminder, this was all anyone could think of anymore, when it came to you, this ordeal.

The apologies, the reminders, the quiet looks, the whispers, the fucking gnawing pain still splintered through your spine, you were tired of it.

The car pulls up to the largest administrative building on the base camp, hopefully you were right and this was where Laswell was posted up.

Quickly pulling the car handle as the trooper steps out of the vehicle to assist you, you hurriedly speak as he reaches to touch you. "I've got it," you hiss out, harsher then you meant. Stepping down and off the platform, onto the sidewalk, you forget you don't have your IV pole to at least stabilize you. So, when you stumble, he grabs your arm, his other resting on your shoulder.

"Woah!" his grip lacks gentleness, though not bruising, it's enough to set you off.

Your arm goes back and over his arm, shrugging him off, roughly. "I said I got it!" Your palm pushing into his shoulder and sending him back and off of you, he shifts back and nearly off his feet, catching himself.

"Alright, jeez!"

You're stumbling back into the light pole luckily a few steps behind you, leaning yourself against the cemented metal, you balance yourself. Shaking off the buzz in your ears and rubbing away the tension built along your skin, taking a few shuttered breaths, turned away from the soldier.

The trooper takes a few steps away from you, expression lifted to frustration and annoyance, rolling his eyes, brows furrowed and back pedaling to the Jeep. "Fucking crazy," he mutters to himself, adjusting his gear and stepping up back to the vehicle.

But, he doesn't make it very far until you're on him.

"What the fu--!"

Taking the opening of his kevlar and yanking him out of the vehicle, unable to catch himself fast enough to get to his feet. You hold a steel grip on the collar of his uniform, literally holding him up by his straps, pulling his entire bodyweight off the ground, leaning down so you're face to face with him. "Say it again," you snapped, eyes dark and boring into his skull. "I wanna have a good excuse for what I'm about to do to you."

He was taller, probably stronger, but looking up at you, he could see the years of mayhem and chaos that's burned itself into your irises, made you the lieutenant he'd tripped up on properly respecting. "I didn't--I didn't say anything! I'm sorry, ma'am, it won't--it won't happen again!"

Nostrils flared, eyes flickering between his wide, fearful ones, your hands loosen around his gear. He falls forwards, landing on his forearms with a groan, releasing a relieved breath.

He looks up, watching as you turn and make your trek into the building. You had seemed so fragile before, with a limp in your walk, scars head to toe and those braces along your legs, he assumed you had no fight in you. He couldn't have imagined, five minutes, he'd be wrong.

---

"Laswell."

The Station Chief turns, manila folder files in hand, brows raised at the intrusion before her eyes widen at the sight of your tired figure.

"Gray..."

You don't wait to be invited inside, instead pulling up a chair as you let the door close behind you. Not fully out of a lack of respect but your legs were killing you and surely if you wait a second longer you'll literally tear a muscle. "You free?"

"Never. But, I can make time," she answers. "Is something wrong?"

You bite down on your tongue. What isn't wrong.

"I put in a request for council in resignation, ma'am. I'm just here to know if it went through."

"I did...receive your request," The woman is still quite surprised to see you, a bit off put at your presence, hearing about your scars was one thing, seeing them was another. "Of course. Though, I expected you to wait for my call before deciding to come to me."

"I'm sure," you feigned a slight chuckle that faded as soon as it started. You say nothing else but stare.

Laswell sighs, tossing down the folder she'd been holding. "Look, Lieutenant Gray--"

"Just (L/N)," you gritted out. "Please." You couldn't stand your codename at the moment, you didn't want to carry a single thing this team had given you.

"Lieutenant..." Laswell pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the long table, facing you, "You've accomplished much on the force, saved lives, eliminated threats that had the potential to level the united nations, your honors and distinctions. At the very least, here, your guidance is a treasure..."

"I'd like my resignation to be approved, Chief--"

Laswell continues. "I need you to careful think about what you're doing here, Gray--(L/n). I don't want you to be motivated by what's happened to you, you still have a place on the force, it doesn't have to be beside your team. Don't waste your talents in the field because of this experience."

"Experience," You scoffed at the word, nose cringing up in disgust at the downplay. "I didn't go on a rollercoaster at Disney World, god--I was tortured by my team for weeks while my fiancé threatened to kill me afterwards..." you were about to lose your mind. "What makes any of you think I'd want to stay here? Why can't any of you just respect my decision to leave? I'm resigning."

Laswell settles back into her chair, lips pressing together, she makes a hum of a sound. "I can arrange a transfer," she compromised. "But, my authorization goes through only after informing Price, he also needs to sign off on this."

Your jaw clenches, your fingers tightening around your clasped hands. "Then how about that favor you owe me?"

Station Chief straightens, brow lifting and arms crossed. "Excuse me, soldier?"

Sighing, reaching a hand into your bag, you bring out a folder of your own, some documents signed off. "I had to wonder who the evidence was sent to, given it was right after our mission and Price doesn't even look at his reports to sign off on something in under 24 hours, it wasn't him," watching as Laswell opened the folder, revealing her own name signing off on the interrogation, just a few of the photos that'd declared you guilty. "Thanks for ruining my career, Laswell."

She spreads out the evidence, her own signature on the papers, she breathes out. "And what are you trying to do here, Gray?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Trying to threaten me with what exactly--?"

"Nothing," you answered. "I'm asking for a favor, from someone I thought was my friend," you find it harder to say, Laswell's jaw clicks and she shifts in her chair. "You owe me that much."

"It's the job, (L/n). I was protecting our own, our resources were very promising."

"Until they weren't, huh?" you sarcastically gritted out.

"Yes..." Laswell sighs. "I do apologize, (L/n), but--"

"Just do this for me," you interrupted, pleading this time. "Please. I can't go to him, I can't even look at Simon, let alone Price. Forget about being in the same room with them. I just--I can't be here, this isn't where I belong anymore," looking down at your hands, the scars that circled your wrists. This was a final decision. "I'm resigning with or without you."

Rising from your seat, Laswell stands as you do, "You resign without clearance, they'll take everything from you. Your pension, your insurance, retirement, everything, you'll be dishonorably discharged, you understand that?"

"'Course, I do," you admit. "Honestly, I thought I'd be dead on a mission somewhere before I saw any of that, I don't expect anything out of this. Nothing's...worth any of this."

As you turn the handle to leave, Laswell speaks once more. "I just wanted to enlighten you on what I'm risking for you, signing off on this."

At that, you glance back to her, watching as the older woman sighs heavily, picking up a pen, opening up the manila folder she'd been holding onto previously. Opening it up to reveal your resignation papers.

"If I do this, when I call on you, Gray," Laswell says. "I expect you to be there."

As she wrote her signature down on the dotted line, you swallowed down the ache that's plagued you for weeks, "I swear."

As the station chief continues down the packet, turning to the next page and signing once again, you slowly slide back into your chair, sitting silently as you watch her sign off on your leave from military service.

You bring your hand up fast as a tear runs down your face, wiping it away before Laswell can see, sniffing quietly.

---

Walking slowly down the side hallway of the admin building, you stare out into space, your eyes glistening as you hold the signed resignation packet to your chest, pressing it to yourself tightly.

Passing the front desk, the security posted up at the elevators, you enter the main hall and come to a stop. Your grip on your documents tightening as you watch rain pour out onto the outer glass of the windows.

Watching the downpour outside, you can't seem to get your feet moving to just leave this place. That's all you need to do, just...walk right through it, into a car, past the gates, onto the highway. Just...go home.

As you flinch at the pitter patter of the rain hitting the building, a short burst of thunder, you try to inch your way closer to the doors but the closer you get, the more you can remember. The more you can feel.

The rain gets louder, and louder. It's cold, although you recall it being 90 degrees and in the middle of the desert. It must just be you.

Putting your folder away and into your bag, the automatic doors open for you, but it's too hard to step through. Staring out into the open landscape, the dividing border of the desert land and the gates surrounding the base. The dry ground now turning muddy, trucks driving by and the mud swelling up at the change in pressure, soldiers rushing through the rain, kicking up mud, flicking up umbrellas.

Breathing deeply, you scuff your shoes forwards, feeling the first drop hit your skin, it's warm, but it's no comfort. Gasping at the feeling, you stumble back into the building, the automatic doors closing.

Short gasps of breath quietly leave you, your nails burrow into the skin of your forearm, you stare at the rain as it pelts at the ground, flooding pot holes and falling into storm drains.

The automatic door opens again, you back up, shifting to the side, as an officer gives you a strange look as he walks past and into the rain.

Your hesitance to proceed into the rain was noticed by a few in the main lobby. Like Kyle, who still stood in his mission uniform, dropping off his reports to the main desk, getting off the elevator to see you staring up at the cloudy sky.

His eyes widening in shock, he's lost in his own world when he begins to take steps towards you, lips parting in disbelief, voice cracking as he breathes out to say, to beg or plead for forgiveness.

The automatic door opens again as you shuffle forwards to try to step outside, he doesn't fully notice your fear of the weather when he speaks.

"(Y/n)..."

You turn at the sound of your name and his eyes flicker to the large scar along your cheek, the red of your eye still, that had changed the color of your iris, maybe permanently. The way you hold your bag tight in your hands as if to shield it from the rain before yourself.

You don't say anything, he hadn't expected you to. You stare at him, surprised to see him, then the expression changes to terror, brows pulling inward and hands sinking into your bag to bring it closer. His heart aching at your reaction to him, his lips pressing together, he doesn't know if she should say another thing. Just let you go.

"(Y/n), I..." he can't help himself as he continues, breathlessly.

You back away from him, out of the building and into the rain. The moment it hits your back, soaking through your shirt, rain hitting the top of your head, down your back, you tense up and spin around.

Kyle's brows furrow, before worriedly witnessing as you curl into yourself instantly, crying out in terror, your hands coming up and over your head. "(Y/n)!"

Realizing what you'd done, your back hits the glass doorway, too late for the doorway to register you wanting to come back inside. You stumble to the corner of the building, just next to the doorway and under the too small gutter to find any shelter from the pelting water at your skin.

A loud sob leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut, you can feel the torture starting again, the unbearable freeze of your limbs, the force of crashing pounds of water along your spine. The screams they would pull from you...

Your torment lasts only a few seconds, suddenly the rain stops, but the sound continues around you. A coat settling around your shoulders and over your head, Kyle's hands on your shoulders, he's yelling over the thunder. "Come on, let's get you out of this. Come on, (Y/n)," he takes your arms. "Let me help you, please!"

"You did this," you cried. "I told you. I told you it wasn't me. But, you kept turning it back on! And then you'd leave it like that and it drove me fucking insane. I'll never be ok again, I can't--" hyperventilating. "Don't touch me, Kyle."

Kyle swallows thickly, head hanging low, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before leaning down to you. "I can't leave you here like this, please, love," he hauls you up to your feet. You shove him back, pressing yourself further into the corner, shaking, "(Y/n)--"

"Don't put your fucking hands on me. What don't you get, huh?" you spat. Pulling off the jacket he'd placed over you, tensing at ever drop of rain that fell over you after, but you toss it back at him. "I don't want anything from you. Never again."

"I'm sorry," Kyle clutches the jacket. "I'm so bloody sorry. I'm sorry for every damn thing I'd ever done to you. I'm sorry we didn't listen. I should've never done that to you. I didn't want to, I just--I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us," his voice breaks and he cries under the rain as his little sister, his family, hatefully stares him down. "I thought you'd give in, that it'd be over as quick as it started! I'm sorry I couldn't trust that you were telling the truth all that time."

"I don't want your apology!" you yell. "Cause you'll never know the same feeling. You'll never understand what you've taken from me. What you've done to me--" hiccupping painfully.

Kyle looks away from you, inhaling with a shudder, reddening eyes are covered as he raises his hands to run over his face.

"Your apologies. Your wishes for forgiveness," you seethe. " You should keep them. They mean nothing to me."

With that, you shove on past him, re-entering the building and rushing down the hallway, you turn the corner away from Kyle. Leaving the distraught man out in the rain, the automatic door sliding closed as he looks on after you.

Part 5 OUT NOW!

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[sbcdh]

"It wasn't one thing, you know, it was like, everything. Everything just kinda happened slow. It wasn't fast. It was slow.

It was, uhh... 1964, I think. LBJ was in office. Yeah, 1964. The government rolled out the whole hypnoeconomics thing in uh, sophomore year. Something like that. I didn't really watch the news, but I remember everyone talking about the election. I remember it being a big deal but, you know, seems like every time the government does something it's a big deal, you know? It's always like, fine. It's always fine.  

 I had just graduated from UC Santa Ana. I had a degree in photography. What do you even do with that? Photography. It was hard at first, shopping a portfolio around, doing weddings. I had a gig going for some real estate company. That was alright. Taking pictures of empty houses for speculators. Something like that. I didn't know the specifics. I was good at it. It's not hard once you know the equipment, and what the client wants. But you get tired of it, you know? You get tired of it.

My mom wasn't the nicest lady. She's my mom but, you know how mom's are. The only thing to do in west Texas was go to church. I was raised really Christian, and Santa Ana was just so different. I didn't know many people. I had a job that didn't feel right, no friends, no family, no church. So I was looking for a church. You got all sortsa stuff out here, you know? You know the Navigators right? That big megachurch? The first chapel was like, a 20 minute drive from student housing. There were always people out preaching in the quad.

It was a girl. Uh, Nadine. Nadine Galt. We had a 101 class together. Math, I think. We really hit it off. She was just funny, you know? She said she was from out of state too, had a really pretty gold cross necklace. I think she polished it. We had similar upbringings you know? Small Town girl, big city, not many friends. That sorta thing. She invited me to a party. A jewelry party.

I asked her "what was that" and she explained the whole concept to me. How she was an independent seller, how she had all these friends, how she was gonna buy us wine and food and show us the stuff she had this month. I liked her. It sounded fun. It was fun.

She said she did that every month. I didn't know too many people, and it was a good way to meet people, you know? I may have paid a bit much for some bracelets, but hey, she was good at selling bracelets. I looked forward to the jewelry parties. I did. Every month I looked forward to them.

I had been going for maybe a year, year and a half, and she asked me if I wanted to become a seller like her. She did it slow, you know, every once in a while she would ask me to stay after the party. I didn't think I could do it. I had a degree in photography, what did I know? But she layed it on thick. Told me I was just what she was looking for. And, well, she said the money was good. I needed money. Or, I had money, but I needed more you know? She made it sound so, well, important. Said we needed to do this, that a market needed competition, you know? That the hypnoeconomists couldn't really track people like us. She said we were "essential to a free financial dreamscape." She made it sound like we were a pair of cowgirls out on the open range together. She said I would be a natural.

And you know what? I was pretty good. At first at least. At first it was just helping out Nadine with her stuff, but she taught me how to talk, introduced me to her distributors, even taught me how to look for new clients. I held a party for some of my clients in real estate. Bought out a whole section of a fancy restaurant and invested in nice cases from the distributor. It didn't go well. I didn't make much profit at all. I think they were mostly pity-buying. I didn't make a cent.

All gold. Yep, all gold. And that wasn't a lie either. It had to be gold, or it wouldn't work.

Nadine went missing in, uh, 67 I think. I was heartbroken. And worried, you know? I was worried sick. Everyone was reaching out, asking if I was alright. Hell, excuse my language, even my mama reached out. Called me on the phone, said I was in her prayers.

The distributor reached out too. Colin. I didn't get another name. Just Colin. Called me one day to express his condolences. He had a nice voice, over the phone. Smooth. Kinda timid, but in a way you liked. I dunno how to describe it. You know what else he told me? He told me I was responsible for 89% of the profits for his channel. Eighty nine. Thinkin back now, I shoulda known that was a bunch of bullshit. He said he wanted to meet with me at the company headquarters in Pasadena. Once I was ready of course. Said he wanted to "talk shop." It was a bright spot, you know? A bright spot in a scary and lonely time. I went. Got a hotel and everything.

What was it like? You mean like what happened?...oh,  you mean like, the inside? Like of the building?

You know what? Now that I think about it. Weird. It was weird as hell. Lotsa gold and concrete. Like the jewelery. It was like every room was like, I dunno. It was like they were too big and too small at the same time. And there was a LOT of gold, in all sortsa patterns.

No. Yeah. Yeah I'm okay, I can talk about it. I'm okay to talk about it. I wasn't there long. I've heard the stories, you know. I don't know what you know, you probably know more than me, being the government and all, but lemme say that if you heard a story about something happening in 11414, it's probably true.

Anyways, Colin met me in his office. No windows. We talked shop. They asked me to arrive early and I skipped breakfast to get there on time and, it seems like every time I tried to bring up lunch he would wave it down. I had to damn near demand to get up for lunch. He invited me up to the cafeteria. The nice one, the one the distributors got to eat at.

It was nice, like, real nice. The plates had those same gold patterns on them. It was after that-

The pattern? Uh, I'll try, do you have a pen? It was really complicated. I'll do my best. It had all these criss-crossing... Hm? Yeah. Yeah you know what? That's exactly what it looked like.

Yeah, you know? I actually did ask him. I asked him about the pattern and he just kinda looked at me like I was in on a joke and said put a finger to his lips and he tapped on the back of his head. You know, where they put the plugs. And he said "you know, so they can't listen."

Yeah he offered to let me try one. He got all quiet, brought me to the lounge behind some curtains. Yeah they had the gold thing too. Started talking like he had a secret. He must've had fifty, sixty pills in a fancy little case that had the same pattern on it.

No I wasn't surprised. How else would they make that much money without hypnoregulation? It was kind of an open secret, you know? I didn't want any of that. But you can't say no, you know? Then you're implicated. You can't leave. I agreed to take one.

I still think about that, you know? How I got out of that. What a dodged bullet. Oh my god. It's kinda embarrassing, now that I gotta say so, but when I was little, I used to do magic. You know, card tricks, sleight of hand, all that stuff. I palmed the damn thing. Slipped it right into my pocket.

I sat there for a bit. Tried to copy him, you know. The lounge had a bunch of sub-finantial cortical wires hidden in the coffee table. He gave me one and told me to watch what he did while he fed it up his nose into his head. I sat there for a bit, trying to stay calm. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he had the gold scalero, uh, scaleri, no, uh the white parts of his eyes...

Scalera! That's it. They were gold and everything.

I didn't know he would convulse so much. I thought something might've been wrong, but eventually they died down. I gotta say, I was so damn scared I couldn't move. I coulda been there for hours. I probably was.

I have a good memory. So eventually I worked up the courage and just...walked out.

Yeah. I walked out. You walk like you're supposed to be there, and you're kinda mad, you know? Like you're late for something and you can't talk right now. It's all about confidence. Nobody hassles you if you look like you know where you're going. I even said thank you to the secretary in the lobby. Nadine taught me that you know. It's all about confidence.

I made it to my car, got the engine going, and the moment 11414 was out of my rear view mirror I just started crying. Cried myself to fits. I didn't even know at the time. What was it? Six weeks later? How many dead?

Yeah, too many. Too many. I guess it doesn't matter.

I drove to a McDonald's for some food and at some point I turned on the radio. You know what was playing?

Yeah. It was that fucking Tremeloes song. You know the one."

[multific]

His Wife

At'Roh x Reader

Summary: Nothing is scarier than a Yautja who's protecting their mate. And At'Roh is no different, he is worse.

A/N: Another Yautja I made up for all of your pleasure. The above photo is not mine! Credit goes to its owner. Enjoy.

You looked up at him. 

You were smiling as you walked by his side, proud. 

The wedding ceremony was held yesterday, now you are officially his.

His mate.

You have come a long way, from running away from home, getting picked up by an alien and now being a part of their tribe.

You were proud of the long journey you had.

Now, it was time for a different one.

Marriage.

It has been almost 10 years since they took you from Earth. You understood their language, their traditions and their behaviour.

You fell in love with the new tribe leader almost immediately.

He was still young, losing his father to old age, and At'Roh became a young leader.

Young yet fierce.

Many claimed that he was crazy, even with Yautja standards.

One proof of this was the way he got you.

He wanted you, a little human, At'Roh craved something different, something exotic, taking a human as a wife was just that.

But as time passed, and you two grew closer and closer, he couldn't deny the facts.

The facts were that he not only wanted you as a wife due to you being a human.

A fierce human who kept him on his toes, who was not afraid to say no to him.

You rejected his marriage proposal at least five times.

You hoped At'Roh would give up, but he didn't.

Your little play of cat and mouse ended in a way no one expected. 

Everyone thought you two would bring a war within the tribe.

Instead, you two fell in love.

---

It was late at night, you were sleeping in his arms, and everything was perfect until it wasn't.

It all happened so fast.

You knew your mate would immediately go and fight to protect his tribe.

All you need to do is find the other females and go with them.

You have done this before when your tribe was attacked by a group of bad-blood yautja.

At'Roh looked at you one last time before heading out, you gave him a nod. 

You knew what you needed to do.

But it wasn't so easy this time.

The bad-bloods this time had a plan, and you played right into their hand.

They got you way too easy, but they didn't kill you.

Instead, they dragged you to their leader. 

No matter what you tried, you couldn't escape. 

"He's going to get me, you know!" you told him as soon as they tossed you to his legs. "And he will kill you all!!!" you knew they understood, even if they didn't speak your language. 

"At'Roh is dead." the leader replied before they chained you. Your face fell.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"Liar." was the last thing you said before the collar clicked around your neck.

The long chain connecting to your neck was given to their leader and you were dragged along as they all ran.

They had no ships. 

It was good, there was a chance At'Roh could find you before they got you to a ship and flew away.

You just needed to hold out and slow them down somehow.

---

At'Roh's heavy breathing was the only thing in the house.

He couldn't even see due to his anger.

You were gone.

His wife was gone.

He knew the way this attack played out was too easy. They had a plan. And the plan wasn't to kill him, the plan was to take you.

At'Roh took a deep breath before putting all of his gear on.

If these bad bloods wanted to play, he was going to destroy them.

Hunting was his speciality. At'Roh loved to hunt maybe a bit too much. While other Yautja excelled at it, he became a monster. A crazed hunter who knew nothing else.

Finding you will be a simple task. His blood was boiling because you were taken.

He wanted to save his tribe only to play right into their hands and help them take you.

It was all a trap to kidnap you. It was a level of disrespect he could not forgive.

At'Roh received information that a female saw a group taking you into the forest, they saw no ships.

At'Roh figured they were taking you to a ship to take you away.

And so, the hunt was on.

---

You have not stopped walking since they got you.

A group of four soldiers and a leader.

They have been dragging you along for hours.

You were beginning to get tired.

You felt like you needed to sit down, but they refused. No matter how you begged.

Looks like their perfect plan had a huge flaw.

They didn't take your refusal and unwillingness to cooperate into much consideration.

They honestly thought they could just drag you along and leave with you.

And this gives time for At'Roh to find you.

You managed to find a sharp stone and cut your hand, hoping to give a trail to At'Roh so he could find you more easily.

You hoped it was enough.

---

At'Roh's anger didn't lessen as he continued his hunt. 

It only grew as he noticed blood on the ground.

He only needed the smallest whiff to tell that it was indeed your blood.

He rubbed the wet material on his finger, watching as it almost coated his fingertip.

He hated that.

He didn't want to see you hurt.

It only fueled his anger and he marched forward, angrier than ever.

He will definitely make sure to kill every last one of them.

It was now morning when he finally caught up with the bad bloods. 

Now he just needed a plan to save you from them.

Thankfully his mind was on autopilot almost since the moment he realized you were taken. 

He moved with such ease, killing everyone that came his way.

At'Roh left no survivors.

Due to the chaos, your scent started to mix with others but he managed to find you.

With a knife to your neck as the leader of the bad bloods had you in front of him.

"Let her go." At'Roh demanded with a dangerously low voice. "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"You will kill me either way. Why not give you some trouble in the meantime?" you understood everything they were saying and you understood what was happening, what you needed to do. You prepared yourself.

"At'Roh," you said his name, hoping to survive this mess.

His eyes moved to you only for a second, the Yautja behind you took this as an opportunity but you also moved. Moving back towards the alien behind you, using all of your body weight, causing his knife only to gaze at your skin, minimalizing the damage. 

Your movement caused the Yautja behind you to fall giving At'Roh enough time to catch up and move you behind himself before he pounced on the bad blood.

You didn't move, watching your mate defending you as he killed the bad blood.

With a loud scream, he killed the other and stood victorious.

But soon, he turned to you and hugged you.

You didn't even care for the bright green blood on his hands or body. You knew it wasn't his.

Soon, he pulled back and looked at your neck, leaning down to lick along the small cut, helping it heal.

"Take me home," you said, and he understood.

Picking you up with one hand he carried you back towards your tribe.

You were so exhausted, that you fell asleep in his arms as he carried you.

You slept almost the entire day away, exhausted from the way you were dragged along, you only woke up when it was almost night again.

At'Roh was, of course, by your side.

You didn't know but you could guess that he never left your side not once.

You looked into his eyes and you felt safe. You felt at home.

"I will not let this happen ever again."

"It's okay, you killed them and saved me." you placed your forehead against his.

You felt his finger trace your neck, where your cut used to be.

At'Roh will make sure this won't happen ever again, you were way too important for him.

You were his wife after all.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[amaranthineghost]

hi! could u write a fic where lando and the reader were fucking and lando takes his phone out halfway through (to take a photo for himself) but accidentally gets it posted on his instagram story and they only find out in the morning idk i just thought this would be funny af

OOPS? ( lando norris. )

lando norris x reader

to commemorate the sight in front of him, he snaps a picture on his phone without realizing he's just posted it for millions to see.

warnings: smut

authors note: I really liked writing this!!! it's a bit shorter than usual, but I enjoyed it a lot so thanks anon!!! <333

HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW HE DID IT. maybe he was just in the haze of sex, buried deep in her cunt with her leg over his shoulder, her other around his lower back pulling him in further.

he was hovering over her, hand pressed against her mouth as strings of muffled moans spilled from her lips, warm tears against his skin. god, she looked so good, too good. he just wanted to remember how fucked out her expression was.

leaning over to the nightstand, slowing his thrusts ever so much as he clutched his phone, flash on to compensate for the darkness of the bedroom. he snapped the photo, throwing the phone to the side, face side up.

he turned his focus back to the messy masterpiece in front of him, returning to the pace he had set before.

he pulled his hand away from her mouth to hear her symphony of moans, music to his ears. his hand took its place on her neck.

lando norris has posted to his story

he was so lost in the moment, he should've realized sooner the mistake he made. he should've realized at the instant texts that lit up his screen because who would be texting him this late?

all he did was flip over the phone, ignoring whatever notified him as he pulled her leg off his shoulder, pushed her leg down from his back. he fell beside her, prompting her to crawl across him, straddling him weakly as his hands settled on her hips.

fuck, she looked so good from this angle. hair messy from the pillows, face red from the tears down her cheeks, but also flushed from how hard he fucked her. he had already coaxed one orgasm ouf of her.

she sank down on his cock, causing him to curse under his breath with praise, “fuck, such a good girl.” his hands clawed into the flesh of her hips, guiding her pace once he saw her struggle.

the view was immaculate, he could've came at the sight of her tits bouncing up and down as she slid on his cock alone. it was salivating.

his hands left her hips to grasp her breasts, and he couldn't care if her pace faltered because everything felt too good in the moment.

if only they knew.

he planted his feet firmly against the bed, grasping her sides again as he lifted his hips to meet her halfway. it was rough, causing her to steady herself with her hands against his chest as he thrusted up and forced her hips down. his cock buried deep in her brought her over the edge so easily as tears fell from her face onto the bare skin of his chest.

she collapsed against his chest as his cock sank into her, feeling the warmth of his seed inside her cunt. she groaned against his chest as his arm spread across her bare back and pressed a kiss to her hair. the tears from her face wet his skin.

“did so good, baby,” he cooed, running fingers across her flesh as she hummed into his chest.

they laid together for a while before going and cleaning up. since it was already late in the night, they got back into bed and fell asleep.

when lando awoke the next morning, his phone was nearly dead and hundreds of texts and missed calls from his friends was the cause. hot to the touch, he carefully held his phone, brows furrowed as he laid on his side, back to his girlfriend, who was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.

first, he opened the texts from his friend, max, who’s messages were in all caps. his eyes widened at the content, squinting at the screen in disbelief. no way he was that stupid, no the photo he took was in his camera roll—no it wasn't.

he discovered that, unfortunately, the photo he had taken was posted to his Instagram story, and it hadn't been taken down.

if it weren't for the circumstances, he could've stared at the photo all day because it was truly that good, but first he had to get rid of the post—and get the photo into his camera roll.

he nearly jumped out of his skin when she stirred in her sleep, now right against his back with her cheek pressed to his bare skin.

“morning,” she groaned and he mumbled back. she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, squinting to see what was on his phone screen, “why’re you on your phone so early?”

“i'm sorry.” he gulped, turning his head to watch the expression knot on her face, mostly confusion.

she sat up, leaning on her arm as she practically hovered over him, “lando, what did you do?”

“i’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

“lando,” she paused, an underlying tone of irritation laced in her voice as she emphasized her words, “what did you do?”

he glanced back at his phone, not even trying to hide the guilty expression written all over his face. she snatched the phone from his hand, and he didn't stop her. he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes before leaving them to cover the lower half of his face as he watched her face.

“what the fuck?” she shoved his shoulder.

“i didn't mean to!” he sat up, throwing his hands up before running them through his messy curls, “i don't know how i did it.”

“oh my god,”she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she hunched over the phone, “i’m deleting it.”

“wait–” his hand touched hers, he bit his lip, “at least save it to my photos–ow!”

she hit the backside of his head at the idiocy of his words. she exhaled deeply, anger taking over her body. of course, he didn't care as much as she did. he wasn't in the photo at all to begin with and this wouldn't affect his career as deeply as it would affect hers.

“why? so you can post it somewhere else? text it to your friends?” she raised her voice, groaning out in frustration.

“baby, calm down–” he tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

“how can i calm down, lando?” she threw his phone down on the bedding, falling back down onto the bed with her hands covering her face in shame. now that picture is all everyone will ever see her as, all thanks to her idiot of a boyfriend.

he grabbed his phone back, seeing the photo had been taken down from his story, but they both knew that image would be circling the internet for a long time.

“at least the photo didn't show anything,” he tried to make light of the situation, but it was to no avail as she spat back with venom in her tone.

“you don't even care about the photo because you aren't the one in it, lando.” she scoffed.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he turned to her, “i really didn't mean to, you know i would never do that.”

she sighed, “i know, but i’m still mad, lan.”

“i know, darling,” he laid beside her on his side, looking at her side profile as she stared at the ceiling, “you have every right to be mad.”

she stayed silent, and he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

he gulped again, speaking up, “and i promise to never take a photo of you when we're fucking ever again.”

a laugh forced it's way past her lips, “oh, please we both know you'll try and fail,” she said with a smile on her lips, shaking her head.

“okay, yeah, but i promise i’ll triple check it's not in any social media post,” he flipped over onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows with his pinky held out. she took it and the promise was made. the situation dealt with, for the most part.

“did you happen to save the photo though–ow, okay!”

—

taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[talaok]

A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-" 

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad, 

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?" 

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet" 

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered, 

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good" 

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him 

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily, 

"I'm sure!" 

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

[starrrlights]

Maybe in this universe...

Warnings: fem reader, soft/sweet!reader (for alt!universe and kinda for Arcane universe). Mentions of dying (almost dying), you almost die but ekko saves you last minute. You = alt!you. You = Arcane you. BLOOD and ANGSTY AT THE END.

☆○☆○

When Ekko traveled to the alt!universe, he was in shock by most things; Zaun seemed peaceful, Jinx was still Powder, everyone besides Vi was alive, and the cherry on top was you.

You were, softer, in a way. Like you were the calming wind after a harsh storm or slow ocean waves on a crowded beach. Something that his universe's you didn't give.

His you, well, you were the harsh storm or that crowded beach. After being taken in by Silco with Jinx, it altered your life completely. He made you harder, stronger. A stranger in Ekko's eyes. One that he had fought countless times with, one that he had a fair share of her blood on his hands with.

There was something so wrong bit so right about you, something that gave him comfort after the harsh realities of his own world. He knew he couldnt give in to you, this you. He had to go back home, if he could call that home.

Your touches, words, worries, and the way your eyes would linger with his; made him want to force himself to look anywhere but you, and move forward with Heimerdinger, and make that damn machine or whatever to get back home. Just so he couldn't fall deeper for you more than he already has.

The more you hung out, the more he reflected on you, the one where you were loyal to Silco, would fight until your hands bled, where your anger bottled up too much. He almost felt bad, bad that this could've been you. All sweet and soft. That made him reflect on Jinx/Powder, and Vi, and everyone else that he had lost and gained over the years. The ones no matter how hard he tried to deny, he still cared for.

He pushed himself harder to got back home after that thought. Maybe he could make things a little better back home, just a little. Just enough to know whether or not you still cared for him there like you are here.

The building part of the time machine was a success after a while, and manipulating the hex crystals went great, better than he thought even, with how many hours of work? He could finally go back, to Zaun, to the Firelights, to you.

But he couldn't leave you behind without a goodbye, so he made a (favorite flower) necklace (one basically like the one he gave to powder but different). Hoping that when you figure out that he wasn't supposed to be here, that you'll still cherish the memories you made like he will.

The travel back felt as weird and as uncomfortable as the trip to. Like every atom and speckle of the body was being torn apart and molded back together. He landed back where he first started, the room with the Arcane in it, and he made sure to get out of there as fast as possible.

He traveled down the streets of Zaun as fast as he could, zooming through with his hover board and watching the ground below him, watching for anyone familiar. (He had to ask a few people, no luck there, however)

You were in an alley way, not far from the Last Drop, but couldn't move yourself for the life of you. Every bone and muscle ached and screamed in pain from the punched and stabbings you've received. Even breathing was becoming harder to do now, how long had you been out here anyway? Not like you've been paying attention anyway.

One hand layed on your stomach and the other on the dirty ground, no doubt had some of your blood on it. This wasn't too bad, everything was subsiding with numbness and the thought in the back of your head that said that you've finally found peace in the ruined city made everything almost worth it.

But perhaps you did go too far with the fight how many hours ago, chewed off too much and now you had to deal with the consequences.

Shouting could be heard from all over, but one voice seemed to get louder, almost as if they were getting closer. You weakly looked over and saw a blurry figure of someone run to you, saying your name. They came in front of you and the image became clearer. It was Ekko.

You couldn't be cocky, or mean, or anything else towards him right now, just staring at him almost stupidly as he said some things you couldn't understand.

"...If you've come to finish me off, or whatever... just do it. I'm not gonna fight back..."

Ekko could feel his heart drop at the sight of you, worse than what he would leave you in after a fight. You just... layed there. Practically waiting for death to take you. What happened when he was gone?

"...im not gonna do that tonight. and never after."

You felt his hands moving around you, wrapping something around your midsection where the nasty gash was still bleeding out, making you hiss in pain, and dragged your body up, rushing you somewhere. But that all was long after you passed out.

Maybe in this universe, he'll still be by your side, if you'll allow him.

☆○☆○

👹👹 don't worry I'm gonna make a part two

This probably sucks but is midnight so whatever.

[simonriley09]

Crying prank on TF141 + Valeria & König <3

Setting up a camera behind a picture of SIMON before pretending to cry into the pillow, waiting for him to come out of his study room. Simon hearing the cries and dropping everything to bolt out of the study and pounces on you, pulling you onto his lap and rubbing your back. All he says is "Who did it. I'll kill them." before you burst out laughing into his chest making him sigh and realize youre pranking him. "Jeez luv, givin me a heart attack won't end well f'you." You looked at him confused before realizing he's not gonna give you mercy in bed later... oops... Pranking PRICE by crying in your office which is next to his makes him stand up and walk over to yours, practically kicking the door open and grabbing your shoulder, turning you around and hugging you before you try so hard not to laugh, Price is oblivious until he see's the camera and groans. "Are you serious lovie?, tryna prank me while m'workin'?" He delivers a harsh spank to your ass before going back to his office, leaving you needy and wanting more. SOAP hearing you cry in your room from the home gym made him drop the fucking bar on his chest for a second before putting it down and bolting to your room, jumping onto your bed and spooning you, kissing your head. "M'here bird, ws' wrong?" He looked over at you and saw the sly grin you tried to contain under your hands and laughed. "You're prankin' me aye?! Sneaky rat!" He was laughing until your burst out laughing too, hugging him as you both had a moment for laughing. Soap let out a content sigh before speaking again. "Y'do realize i dropped a weight on my chest out of shock yeah?" You looked up at him in shock before removing his shirt and kissing the forming bruises on his chest. Soap couldn't stop his cock chubbing up from the sight. GAZ who see's you put on make-up to make it look like you're crying but decides to play along, Listening to your fake cry before rushing over to you, acting caring before tickling you making you laugh loudly and plead for him to stop. "Think i didn't notice the camera, Huh?" You were shocked that he even knew but you couldn't stop laughing from the tickling until Gaz suddenly threw your legs over his shoulders and pressed a slow kiss to your clit, making your thighs tighten around his neck.

VALERIA who notices you crying from the other side of the room and picks you up, putting her on your lap and her face in your neck, kissing your collarbone. "What's wrong Mi Amor? Why are you crying?" You shivered from the kiss and Valeria felt your small grin into her neck and figure it out quickly. "Just wanted my attention huh? Impressive.." Her hands gripped your hips, nipping at your neck and collarbone just to get you worked up. KÖNIG who jumps out of his bed, stumbling a bi and groggy from sleep hearing you cry in the kitchen made him run so fast he fell down the stairs which immediately made you run to the stairs and see him laying there half asleep, bleary eyed and slowly getting up. You helped him up and when you saw the black eye he got from falling you felt guilty. "Maus, warum... Why are you crying?" When you told him you were pranking him he realized and giggled a bit, patting you on the head. At night you felt so guilty that you ended up giving him toe curling head.

[em-ontv]

Sing a song for me. (1/2)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, violence/death/murder/gore, manipulation (vought), emotional distress, psychological torture/trauma, imprisonment (vought), mentions of drugs, mentions of illnesses, cursing/language

Anon: I have an idea for a FMC who's a supe but her powers are "sirens song" her powers basically can control someone but in a different way depending on what melody she sings... she works at a hospital and helps people... Vought finds out about her and they take her... The boys hear about her after they get soldier boy out and they use him to help get her by him using his powers...

A/n: Hello, anon! Thank you for this request, this idea is just amazing, I love it! I shortened your request a little so it fits here :). I decided to split this into two parts because I've just been really busy, sorry! Everything written here is credited to you, anon! I'm just here to execute your ideas. Hope you like this <3

Read part 2 here

Word count: 3k

"Please," the young woman in the hospital bed whispered, her voice weak while her hands trembled over the thin sheet.

She winced at the pain that was slowly eating away at her. You could see it, not just on her face but in the way her body shivered against the inevitable coldness of death.

"Just make it stop... just for a bit." she swallowed thickly, reaching a hand out to you, and you held it for support.

You'd seen this before, so many times, too many times, working at Mercy Hospital. "I'll sing for you," you said, your voice gentle.

As you pulled the chair closer to her bedside, you began to hum, a soft melody that seemed to drift through the air, mixing with the beeping heart monitor.

Her body began to relax, the lines of pain on her face softening as the sound soothed her, a sense of warmness filling her. Her breathing slowed. The tears stopped. For a moment, in this broken world, she was at peace.

That was the way you had always used your powers. For peace. For comfort. The songs you sang were as natural to you as breathing, and their effects.

It was just a gift you had, something you could use to help the people in pain, to soothe those who were suffering—whether it be the children crying in the hospital beds alone at night or the elderly who were hooked onto the machines to live—the ones who had no one left. You sang to take away their pain, to bring peace in places the world forgot about.

The patients who were pale from nausea, you soothed them. The patients who were out-of-control in the ER, you calmed them. The patients whose time was running out, you eased their pain one last time before they passed away. It was all because of your voice.

But you never went beyond what was asked of you. Never used your powers on people who didn't ask you to. Never crossed that line.

You never sought out power. You had never intended to control.

And for a long time, you didn't know you could.

But Vought? They saw the potential in you long before you did.

The day that everything went wrong, you were working a night shift at the hospital. You remember it so vividly—the soft click of shoes in the empty hallways that you had mistaken for visitors.

You had just finished a soft hum to a child who was barely nine years old, singing away the nauseousness that came from his treatments when they came for you. Vought.

It all happened so fast. In a flash, a hand was clasped around your mouth and you were being dragged away. The kid cried for the doctors, cried for them to let go of you. But no, Vought wanted you.

You fought, of course. The Compound V that flowed through your veins not only gave you the power of your voice, but strength. It made you a challenge, but the tranquilizer they shot into your neck was made for supes.

A sharp pain pierced through your body, and you didn't stand a chance.

Your eyes flickered softly, the world dimmed into darkness, the last thing you saw was the nurses and doctors collapsed on the hospital floor.

And when you woke up, you were in a cage.

You were in a cage.

It was glass, or something that looked like it—thick and unbreakable. The cold room they kept you in was lined with monitoring equipments. They put a collar on you, some high-tech piece that clamped around your throat like a vice. It was set to explode if you so much as hummed a note. They made sure of that.

The first time you tried to test its limits by so much as opening your mouth, a sharp, electrical shock shot through your neck, leaving you clawing at your throat in pain.

You didn't know how long it was since you'd been here. Maybe weeks, maybe months. You tried to fight it at first, refusing to use your powers, refusing to sing for them. But it didn't take long before they forced your hand. Vought had ways of making people cooperate, and you were no different.

At first, they made you calm people, to help them sleep. It was awful but it wasn't that bad, you could handle it. People weren't getting hurt. You weren't hurting anyone.

But that was before tonight.

The door to your cell hissed open, and the guards came in and grabbed you, dragging you and shoving you down the hallway. The collar stung as it bit into your neck, but you learned to ignore the pain. It was nothing compared to what was waiting on the other side of that door.

They led you into another room, a see-through glass room that they pushed you into and locked the doors after taking off your collar.

On the other side, strapped to a chair, was a man. His skin was sickly and pale, eyes wide and wild as he struggled against his restraints. His face was covered in bruises, and his breathing was shallow—wheezing, desperate. You could see the tracks on his arms, the broken veins. He was a junkie, barely hanging on to life as it was.

You rubbed a hand over your throat. "What is this?" you asked, your voice coming out hoarse, the collar had been on for so long it was a wonder you could even speak.

"A convicted criminal," a voice said. You turned your head to see the man standing outside the glass cell. You'd seen him before—Dr. Connors. Always calm, always observing you like you were some test subject, it made your skin crawl. "A drug dealer, murderer that we pulled out of one of the city's free clinics. He won't be missed," he said.

"Why... why is he here?"

"We need to know just how far your abilities can go."

You felt your stomach twist. No. They couldn't be asking what you thought they were. You'd done everything they asked—calmed their people, helped them with their fucked-up little experiments—but this? This was different. This was wrong.

"I won't do it," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't hurt people. I'm not a killer."

"You misunderstood." Connors said. "You don't have a choice."

He saw the way your skin turned paler, and he took a step closer to the glass. "Isn't this what you do? To ease pain? You're gonna help him pass on, won't you?" His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but it made you feel sick.

"His time isn't up." your jaw tensed, your voice lingered with a hint of bitterness. A combination of fear and anger twisting in your gut. "I said I'm not a killer," you spat.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've been killing since the moment you started working for us. You just haven't been paying attention."

Connors gestured toward the other side of the glass, where the man—this junkie, this criminal—was staring at you, his chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. You could hear his coughs, see the sweat that rolled off of his forehead.

He didn't deserve this.

Maybe he was a murderer. Maybe he had hurt people, maybe he deserved to rot in prison, but no one deserved this. Not to be a lab rat for Vought. Not to be killed by a song. His fate shouldn't rest upon your hands.

Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and for a few moments, everything was silent. Connors was watching, his eyes turning cold, searching your face for any signs of rebellion. He'd kill you if you refused. And if you didn't die, they'd make sure you wished you had.

You were powerful, yes. But you weren't irreplaceable.

You didn't know what to do, staring at the junkie. All you knew was that there was no way out. Not without paying a price.

Connors stepped back, watching you through the glass. "Sing."

You met the junkie's eyes. He was gasping for air now, but he couldn't scream—his throat was too weak, but you could feel how scared he was. He was pleading for his life, even without saying a word.

Tears burned in your eyes as you felt your chest tighten, the melody coming out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The song was shaky, and it wasn't gentle. It wasn't the usual soft tune that you had sung a hundred times to sick patients, back when you worked at the hospital. It was a song of discord.

The melody wrapped itself around the junkie in the chair, and you saw him starting to thrash against his restraints, his eyes bloodshot and wide as he struggled like a feral animal.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you closed them, scared to get another look at him. The melody only grew stronger, and then…

Then... you heard blood splattering and you felt something on your face.

You reached a hand to your face, your fingers gently brushing against your skin.

And when you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was the bloodied chunks of human flesh on your fingers.

Then... him.

The chair where the junkie used to sit was now only a pile of blood. The transparent glass cage was covered in red. Red.

You stumbled backward, choking on a sob, your hands shaking, the song dying on your lips. The realization crashed into you, a wave of nausea coming up your throat.

The guards didn't move. Connors didn't even blink. They were used to this. You weren't.

"Excellent work." Connors said gently.

You felt the remaining of your strength give out. You slumped against the glass wall and your body slowly slid to the ground, your legs no longer able to hold you up. Your eyes never left the bloodied chair as tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with shock and disgust, disgust at yourself. You wanted to scream. To run. But there was nowhere to go.

It was the same routine after that.

When Vought needed you, they'd take you out of your cage, remove the collar, and force you to use your powers. When they were done, they'd push you back into your cell and clamp the collar around your throat again.

You didn't know you could control multiple people at once with your voice. You didn't even know you could kill with your voice. Not until they forced you to use it and then you started to see how deadly your songs were.

You were exhausted. Not just physically, but deep down in your bones, in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. Vought used you again and again, like some soulless machine they could turn on and off whenever they wanted. Every time you sang, you lost a little piece of yourself.

Each forced melody drained you until you started to forget who you used to be, the life you used to have, the people that you used to help. Your voice, once you considered a gift, was now seen as a curse to you.

Of course, at first, you fought it. You pushed back again and again, told yourself you’d find a way out. But the more they used you, the harder it got to hold onto that resistance.

You started to go numb, the fight in you slowly dying, your heart shutting down just to survive. Eventually, you stopped hoping for an escape, stopped believing that anyone would come. You were theirs, trapped in a cycle you didn’t have the strength to break.

The worst part? You barely even cared anymore.

So when they took you onto your first mission, you didn't resist, you did everything they asked, you sang to their enemies—their eyes would glaze over, bodies slumping forward, as if someone had cut their strings, or just be blown into bits with a single note. Either way, they just dropped. Dead in a matter of seconds.

It was too easy. Too much power. And Vought loved it.

But they didn't let you forget what you were. A prisoner. A tool.

Until... until they came for you.

Or more specifically... he came for you.

"This place looks like a fortress," Hughie muttered, adjusting the comm in his ear as the team prepared to break into the Vought facility.

"Quit whinin', mate. We've got our secret weapon right here," Butcher said with that shit-eating grin of his, patting Soldier Boy's shoulder.

Soldier Boy barely acknowledged the gesture, impatience in his eyes, as if one more pat would drive him to rip Butcher's hand off.

Hughie glanced at Butcher. "You sure this is gonna work? I mean, if she's as dangerous as Vought says..."

Butcher smirked. "That's exactly why we need her."

They moved in, navigating through tight security and avoiding patrols as they made their way deeper into the facility. The plan was simple: get in, grab you, get out. But nothing ever went according to plan, and the alarms blared before they even reached your cell.

Soldier Boy tore through guards like they were nothing, his shield crashing against skulls and bodies with brutal efficiency. The others followed in his wake, covering him as he cleared the path, leaving a trail of blood and broken bones, disoriented bodies scattered everywhere.

You'd heard and seen it all. The way the guards that were supposed to be at the door of your cage moved with urgency in their steps, the crackle of their radios.

Explosions. Gunfire. Shouts of panic echoing down the halls.

And then... silence.

You weren't sure if this was a rescue or just another nightmare, but something inside you stirred—hope. Hope that you hadn't felt for a long time.

You sat up, your body stiff and aching as you made your way to the transparent wall, pressing your hand against the cool glass of your cell, waiting.

The silence was shattered by the sound of crashing metal, followed by a loud boom.

You jumped, heart pounding, as the door to the hallway outside your cell exploded inward, smoke and debris clouding the air.

Through the haze, you saw him—Soldier Boy, covered in dirt and blood.

The last of the guards who crossed his path were obliterated, bodies flung aside like they were nothing with sickening cracks of bones. The bullets bounced off of Soldier Boy's shield like they were toy pellets. His eyes were filled with aggression, the adrenaline flowing through his body.

But then... he saw you.

In the chaos, his gaze locked onto your cell—onto you. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You, standing there in your glass prison, looking so defeated, so... broken.

Your clothes were stained, your skin marked with bruises, your eyes hollow and empty with a lingering sense of hope.

And when Ben saw you like that—it made something inside him crack.

He had seen plenty of fucked-up things in his long life. He'd caused a lot of them. But this? This was different. The anger that fueled him this whole time suddenly turned into something else.

He walked slowly toward the glass, but there was something softer in his eyes now. Something he hadn't shown anyone in decades.

The furrow of his eyebrows slowly disappeared. He reached out, pressing a hand to the glass between you. His palm rested flat against it, fingers splayed out like he was trying to touch you through the barrier.

He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn't sure what to do.

You lifted your hand, trembling, and pressed it against the glass where his hand rested. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something. Connection. A shared moment between two people who both had been hurt, used, controlled by the same people.

For a second, neither of you moved. You just... stared at each other, your hands separated by that glass wall, but it felt like the most intimate moment you had shared with anyone in years.

Then, without a word, Ben stepped back and raised his fist.

And it was as if you understood him, you stepped back too.

With a hard swing, he slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it with a deafening crash. The pieces rained down around you like shards of ice, but he didn't care.

He reached in, pulling you closer by the hand he rested on your waist, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid you might break under his strength.

"Come on," he said, his voice more gentle than he intended it to be. "We're getting you out of here."

You shook your head gently as your fingers reached at the collar, and that was when he noticed the collar around your throat, humming with electricity, ready to punish you the moment you step foot out of this facility.

Ben frowned softly at the device, his fingers wrapped around the tech.

Butcher stepped up closer, glancing at him. "Think you can get that thing off her without blowing her head off?"

He just grunted softly in response, working to disable the explosive.

"Hold still," he muttered.

After a few tense moments, the collar clicked open, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

You inhaled sharply, your first breath of freedom in what felt like forever.

But Ben didn’t move back. He stayed close, eyes never leaving yours. "You can talk now," he said softly, his voice low.

You swallowed hard, your throat aching, but still, you hesitated. "Why… why are you here?"

"We came here to rescue you, love," Butcher replied, stepping into your line of sight. His grin was sharp. "And as much as I would like to keep talking, we should probably get out of here…"

[uniquexusposts]

I'm already involved - C. Leclerc

Summary: Y/n gets emotional while in Monaco for a business trip. Luckily, her boyfriend Charles lives in Monaco. Genre: fluff

Y/n 💞: Charles are you home?

Tears were burning in your eyes when you looked at your phone again. You knew calling would be faster, but you couldn't control your emotions, and you knew you would cry if you heard his voice. But by texting, you weren't sure how fast you could get a response.

Charles🐻♥️: Yes babe

Y/n💞: Can I come over please?

Charles🐻♥️: Of course

Y/n💞: And cuddle and cry and nap?

Charles🐻♥️: Anything for you babe

Charles🐻♥️: What's going on? I don't like the crying part

You sighed in relieve and didn't respond to his last message. You entered the flat building and walked towards the right door. If Charles wasn't home, you still would go to his place to cool down. Oh, you were angry. You opened the front door and took off your shoes, threw your bag on the ground and entered the living room.

Charles looked up from his phone when he heard the door opening. Who could that be? He wasn't expecting anyone around this time. His eyes were focused on the hallway while his ears were trying to catch sounds from the movements the person was making. By the way the bag was thrown on the ground, and how the person walked, he was thinking about one person. But that couldn't be true. A young woman with y/c hair, good looking clothes and with a look in your eyes where one thing could go wrong, you would burst into tears, entered the living room.

"Y/n/n," Charles said confused and stood up from the couch. He threw his phone on a pillow and walked towards his girlfriend. "I... I didn't expect you this soon."

You shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood."

"You texted me two minutes ago. I didn't expect you this soon," he softly said and cupped your cheeks in his hands. Tears were burning in your eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Can we lay in bed?" Was the only thing you asked. You were avoiding eye contact, what was concerning to Charles.

Charles parted his lips and studied your face. What were you not telling him? "Yes, of course. We can lay on the couch outside, if you want?" He placed his arms around your shoulders and pressed you carefully against himself.

You closed your eyes and hide your face in his neck cavity. You breathing slowed down, and your muscles relaxed. A sign everything was better now. Having Charles now, standing in his arms, his trustable scent, it was better. You nodded slowly at his question.

"Come on then," he said and removed his arms from your body. He stroked your hair and placed a kiss on your forehead.

A weak smile played on your lips. You followed Charles to the balcony, and you laid down on the couch. Charles laid next to you and placed his arm around you. While putting your head on his chest, you wrapped your leg around his and sighed softly. Within the first minutes, the tears started to flow over your cheeks. Soft sobs left your mouth. Charles stroked your arm, knowing it was the best to keep quiet. Even though he wanted to ask so many questions, but you were upset about something, and it was the best to wait and first let out every emotion. Charles pressed a kiss on your hair.

"I love you."

Charles looked down at you when the words left your mouth, he was a bit surprised to hear the three words. Not that he didn't like it, but it was random in this situation. He placed his other arm around you as well and hugged you tightly. "I know," he whispered. "I love you too."

Although your cheeks were being squeezed, you managed to press a smile on your face. You replaced your head in a more comfortable position and closed your eyes. The soft-touch of the warm wind, the sound of passing cars now and then, bird noises and the soft sounds of the sea, gave you the almost perfect surrounding to fall asleep. Laying in Charles' arms was making it better. Your heart came in a slower rhythm, your breathing slowed down, and the tears stopped rolling over your cheeks, meaning you dozed off.

☆

You let out a deep breath, and you opened your eyes again. The sun was shining on your face, something that woke you up. You looked up and saw Charles peacefully asleep. A smile captured your face. You pressed a long kiss on his cheek what woke him up. He turned his head towards you and opened his eyes.

"Hey," he whispered and smiled.

"Hey," you smiled.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

He brought up his hand to your cheek and rubbed gently with his thumb your bottom lip. You looked in his eyes.

"That's good. Do you want to tell what happened?"

"It's just... I got annoyed. Last night I got a phone call I needed to go to Monaco, which isn't bad at all, but it's just the way how it went what got me pissed. Having four hours of sleep, a delayed flight from Paris and having some bitch around me all day was the limit. It pisses me off so much," you said. "I can't handle this shit."

He slowly nodded. "I understand."

"And my goodness, I wanted to surprise you." You laughed and looked down. "Surprise," you mumbled sarcastically.

Charles moved his hand to your bum and scanned your face. "It's fine. I thought you meant you were in Paris when you texted, I didn't expect you that quick."

"Hmm," you hummed and looked at him again. "Maybe I got superpowers." Your eyebrows were raised, and a cheeky smile played on your lips.

"You idiot." He let out a laugh. "I was checking on flights to depart from Paris, never really thought about the fact you already could be here since you normally let me know you are flying over."

After a few minutes, you had a glance at the clock. Your eyes widened. "Fuck. It's already time." You sat up, and Charles moved his hand to your lower back.

"Don't go," he begged. "I was just laying comfortably and nice and all. Don't leave me."

You ran her hand through your hair and rolled your eyes. "I can't not go. I have a job to do." Your hand laid on his stomach. "I'm already late, though." Your eyes were focused on the view. The beautiful view of Monaco. It was almost giving you the feeling to stay.

"Then, don't go. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Charles," you hissed, and their eyes met again.

"What? Don't be harsh and stay." He grinned.

You sighed. "I really have to go. Don't you have to be with Arthur or I don't know who? I'm sure they don't mind if you annoy them." The corners of your mouth curled up, and you stood up. The laugh of Charles filled your ears when you went back inside. It made you chuckle.

"You are bad. Thanks very much," Charles said sarcastically when following her inside.

You grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and walked to the hallway. You checked herself in the mirror to look if you were looking fine to go back to work again. "I just realised I didn't even say a proper hi." You looked in Charles' eyes via the mirror.

"That is a disappointment, that is not what I expect from you." He looked offended at you.

It made you smile, and you turned around, facing him. You pressed a kiss on his lips, and deep down, you realised she wanted more. Charles thought the same and looked at your lips again. It made you swallow hard. Two weeks without each other, two weeks without kisses, two weeks without touches, it made them long for each other so badly. Charles pressed his lips on yours again and softly pressed you against the wall. You opened your mouth a bit so Charles could slide in his tongue. His taste was something you missed.

You pulled back. "You really want me to be late, don't you?"

"Why rush if it doesn't matter anymore?" He whispered against your lips and locked them again with his. You tried to cut off the kiss, but Charles managed to get your bottom lip between his teeth. You let out a huff, which made him chuckle. He pulled back. "Let me bring you. I'm already involved."

"You are seeing that good, Charlie," you said and pushed him away. You got on your shoes and got your bag. Charles grabbed his car keys. They both got in the car, and Charles drove to the destination of your work.

"Thank you," you mentioned.

Charles softly squeezed in your tight. "For what?"

"For being there for me," you whispered.

"You don't have to thank me, babe. I'm your boyfriend and best friend." You hummed. "But you're welcome," he smiled.

When arriving at the destination, Charles stopped you for stepping out. You looked confused at him.

"See you tonight. I will pick you up when you are done here," he said like you already approved his plans. You slowly nodded. "I love you." He gave you a kiss. You looked at him for a few seconds. "You can go now if you want. I'm happy to drive away with you."

"You are awful," you said disappointing and opened the door. "My goodness, Charles." He smiled proudly. "I love you," you said and got out of the car, ready to face your work again.

[anantaru]

cw. tit play, fem! reader, first time seeing you naked, flustered zhongli & a little pervy zhongli

zhongli has never seen you naked before, and although your relationship was still new and in its early stages, his thoughts had already drifted into the imagination of how otherworldly beautiful you must look underneath those clothes— ugh, he just couldn't help himself.

and it's so embarrassing when you first show him your tits all intimate and exposed as you moved smoothly around the skin, his golden eyes following your every move as you proudly cup the mounds in your palms while squeezing them for him, putting on a sensual show, enjoying to watch how his thick bulge was growing just at the sight of you.

he hums deep into his chest before exhaling through his nose, and nothing was in between you besides a breeze of air rising and falling with zhongli feeling a bit lightheaded and dazed by your bare body— thinking back about all those times where he had touched himself at the thought of this.

you see it hidden in the sparkling glimmer of his eyes that your boyfriend was just strong enough to resist burying his face in your chest, and you furthermore lean into him before taking a seat on his lap— your hands sliding from your breasts to come up and cradle his blushing face, signalizing your deep lust for him because it just wasn't enough anymore.

at the sight of this, zhongli knows now that he would do everything right when it comes to pleasuring you, he'd make it his duty to fuck you how you deserved— make his length brand your searing spots with his aching veins, waiting until your pussy remembers the shape of him as your walls introduce his shaft to your addicting trace— your cunt constricting and clenching down on him softly, sweetly and like you never want him to leave again.

over and over until you're squirming for mercy.

the way zhongli knows you would sound so sweet as well, those concealed noises simmering below the surface, dripping like candid molasses on his tongue, his mind wandering through his wild imaginations before your voice draws his attention right back to you.

"do you want to touch them?" you ask with a slight wink, your tits bouncing as you go back to squeeze them roughly, "if you let me," he pants back, answering a little too fast to his own liking.

but you really do not have to tell him twice.

zhongli clenches his jaw as he swallows the budding saliva on his tongue— and it's creating a new spark of tension when you let go of your breasts before he places his palms on top of them, starting off slow between kneading and squeezing the flesh and enticing you with the promise of more.

you slant into his touch to relax and are so close to him now, so close that you could feel the heat of his body rattle through your skin as zhongli pinches and twists one nipple before leaning his head forward to take one in his mouth.

well, it's sudden, and you didn't expect him to use his tongue right away, but you knew that he was yearning for this, you could evidently witness the hunger in his eyes, and you whine out through a strangled sound, instantly losing yourself in the hot sensation of his mouth as he hollows his cheeks to suckle on the flesh.

an unquenchable thirst simmers through your desiring touches as you arch your back into him, your toes curling as you look at the mess on your chest coaxing out a shiver from your body— copious amounts of saliva oozing through the splits of his mouth and curving over your frame.

it's all so messy and filthy that it makes you drool at the sight, squeezing your thighs again and again as your sobs and wails grow louder, needier and more desperate before you suddenly press his head into your chest, your stomach fluttering from being stimulated so fucking dearly.

you're done for, in fact, you both are, and you wonder how long this will go before zhongli notices the heavy outline of his bulge on his slacks, because it certainly must hurt him by now— having to deal with those tight pants making it quite difficult for his shaft to twitch and ache in his boxers.

but if you're being honest, you're a little proud of turning him into this.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[r0-boat]

Gooner!Belphegor magic pocket pussy Drabble

Cw: masturbation, dubcon.

Gn!reader (Even if you don't have the parts the reader can still feel it ✨magically✨

His pupils dilated holding the toy in his hand. It wasn't just an ordinary toy. He had waited months for this magical toy from Tartaros.

A pocket pussy that syncs It's opening to match any person he chooses. With manual excruciatingly using the little bits DNA from strands of hair that fell from your pretty little head the last time you slept in his bed and other bothersome labor setting the damn thing up so it binds to you, It's finally ready.

"This toy better be far worth the hassle I had to endure," Belphegor mutter does he pressed his finger against the slit of the toy. He truly hopes You could feel his fingers working you open from wherever you are. He licks his lips His eyes fluttering clothes as he runs his tongue across the silicone lips.

Meanwhile, You were tagging along with not only Satan but the rest of the kings for a meeting.

"So sad that Belphegor can't attended today..." Asmodeus smirks giving Satan a wink who's flipping him off in response.

"Good riddance I say, if I had to hear One more meeting of snoring I would have closed off his throat." Leviathan mumbled.

You smile as you sit in your usual seat kicking your feet, Even though you had nothing to do with these meetings The Kings were still nice enough to have you join each one.

It was a day like any other.

Until...

A wet warm feeling caresses your core. You gasp as you swallow a moan. Lucifer's sharp eyes catches your sharp noise "Everything all right?"

" Y-yeah." Was all you could muster.

feeling that's sweet familiar taste of human arousal on his tongue he shutters "Haaa-haha This thing can even replicate your taste. Now I know it's working..."

"fuck... No more waiting... I need it!"

Lazily pushing his robes off on revealing his hard cock He strokes his shaft with one hand maneuvering his tip till it pushes against the opening as he works it open. "Fuck! Replicating your tightness too... This might be my new favorite toy." Belphegor mumbles forcing his cock deeper inside the toy.

You felt something hard and warm fill somewhere between your legs You didn't even have time to process where and how before this mysterious feeling begin to move in and out.

There was no mistaking what this feeling was. Which was deeply confusing since you were in the middle of a meeting and not being fucked by any of the kings present. The size, girth, and even the speed of the thrusts were familiar, but you couldn't place your finger on where you had felt this before. Given how fast thrusting motions began to speed up, it was so hard to think. Before you knew it, you clenched your teeth, trying so hard not to scream out in the middle of the six other kings in the room.

Your hand balling your twitching fingers into a fist trying to stop yourself from going underneath your pants.

His breath shook as he finally took his cock out of the toy His tip rubbing circles around The stretched silicone slit. "Hehehe, rest up while you can ma sweet lil' toy cuz I'm not done with you yet~"

He wonders what you're doing. He knows that there's a meeting going on right now. He wonders if you're there.

"I wonder... I wonder you like getting fucked by me in front of all the other demons that want you."

Belphegor cummed his messy hair falling in front of his eyes as he grinded his shaft against the lips of the toy. "betcha do horny slut!"

Even though you weren't there to write him or suck him off till his balls burst, The idea of fucking you anywhere he wished made his cock twitch and drool with precum.

Belphegor hummed getting his other hand to swipe at the precum drooling from his head. He takes his two fingers and slides them inside. "Ya feel that? That's what you do to me."

You finally mustered all your strength when the thrusts start to slow You slammed your fist down on the table catching everyone's attention their eyes wide at the sudden outburst "I'M GOING TO THE BATHROOM!"

Shit, you did not need to yell that loud... Now, everyone looked worried, But you didn't care because if you had stayed a second longer, you would have come right then and there in your pants. While, everyone was watching. You've never run so fast out of the meeting room.

Slamming and locking your door to your bedroom Your nails dig into the sheets trying so hard to hold back any noise as you brace yourself as the thrusting begin again.

Belphegor His eyes will back as he pounds it over and over into the flashlight as fast as he could go. He could feel the toy work it's magic tightening and pulsating just like how a cunt would; now your cunt. He could feel you cum with every tight squeeeeze.

If he thought fucking you was addicting then treating you like a fleshlight was like drugs.

As much as he wanted to use this toy for hours and hours on end. Which believe him he would.

Use it and overfill your new cunt, make feels so full when you're in fact empty. Maybe he would even fill it up to the brim and make sure it holds It aaall in So you could feel full all day.

As a demon known for breaking his toys He had to hold back. Which realization made him click his tongue. But it was true, He didn't know how much a human could take this toy was made intended for devils after all. So might as well finish inside it and store it away for later.

As much as he wanted to keeps stroking his hand was getting tired. In a last ditch effort to cum He shuffled in his bed his hair silk robes and sheet sticking to a sweaty body. He put the pocket pussy in between two pillows. As much as he hated the hassle of actually doing sex. He needed to have you feel him fuck you.

His unrestrained moans feel his bedroom as he drills his cock deeper with each thrust into the toy. Making sure he stoled his hips as deep as he could before exploding. Making sure He failed the toy to the brim.

He was nowhere near satisfied, And he knew he'll be returning to the toy again for right now, exhaustion hit him all at once. He placed his toy upright on the nightstand. He smiled, knowing that you'll feel all his cum deep inside for a while before drifting off to sleep.

[httpskuzuu]

Crybaby

I'd like to think I've gotten better at writing things like this

Fyodor x Reader

idk english, bye

summary: Fyodor always likes to test your limits

tw: NSFW, afab reader but no gender specified, vaginal sex, orgasm denial, bondage, over-stimulation, creampie, everything is consensual, aftercare at the end because it is the minimum

Besides his partner, you were his little experiment.

Fyodor didn't hold you in the highest regard at first, weak and sensitive as you were, it was no surprise that you didn't earn even the slightest respect from him. The only thing he saw you useful for was to observe your reactions.

What face would you make if he did that to you? Would you cry if he did this to you? Do you have any boundaries that would make you break down completely? It was fun for the man, not so much for you. But you let that happen, you didn't have a single complaint to say to him, what were you thinking of saying to someone like Fyodor?

You still don't understand how you ended up in a relationship with him, but to be fair, he doesn't quite figure it out either. Maybe it was how easy it was to get attached to you, with your usual kindness and sympathy for your fellow man, maybe it was your interest that called him, how you were always so attentive to his needs and how submissive you were.

Now, your dear fiancé wanted to take his experiments into another area.

Fyodor lovingly kept the sight before his eyes, the ropes wrapped so perfectly around your wrists, your naked and vulnerable body, for his eyes only, and those encapsulated tears wanting to come out of your eyes. You are perfect for him, so pure he can't resist corrupting you.

His mouth returned to your chest, first giving his full attention to your nipples making you squirm, and then he began to move up, making a path of kisses until he reached your ear. You shuddered with the sensation of his breath so close to you.

"What's wrong, dear? Is it too much for you?" His voice didn't help your current state, it was unfairly sexy. You feel the warmth between your legs spread apart by Fyodor, you wish you could close them and feel the friction that act would give you.

"Fyodor…" You sob pathetically, your breath trembling as his hands caress your sides. Slowly, his hand grasps one of your breasts and squeezes it, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Before you can think clearly, Fyodor moves inside you again. His pushes were slow and controlled, as if having left you on the edge didn't affect him at all. You curse him to yourself as the tears finally fall, it's too much, it doesn't allow you to have a single coherent thought in your head, you can only focus on how you want Fyodor's cock to bring you to orgasm.

"Come on, маленькая мышка. Use your words."

Fyodor gently kisses your salty cheeks, giving you a small comfort so that within seconds he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up. You can't control the sounds you make as you feel Fyodor so deeply.

His assaults go from calm to fast, crashing his pelvis against yours and causing obscene noises to fill the room. Your back arches in pleasure and you try to struggle against the ropes, the fact that you couldn't hold on to anything because you were tied to the headboard was frustrating. You need to grab and claw at something, to be able to release at least a little bit of everything you were feeling.

"Ah! Please!" You can't even speak properly and you try to hold on to nothing while Fyodor comes so deep in your needy pussy. You don't remember how many times you were so close to touching orgasm and Fyodor denied you, you couldn't take it anymore. "L-Let me cum! I'll do anything!"

If Fyodor could keep this moment forever, he would. You are a pathetic little thing in his sight, with those tears staining your whole face and your eyes lost in pleasure.

Decide he's tortured you enough. Your plea is too sweet to his ears and touches his soft side, so this time he doesn't stop when he notices your higher-pitched voice or when your walls clench so tightly around him. Unlike before, he became faster when he hit you, especially when he felt that he also touched his limit.

You joined your lips in a messy kiss. You weren't even able to concentrate properly on that.

Fyodor's fingers playing with your clit was the last thing you needed to cum at that moment with a loud moan, throwing your head back and rolling your eyes, lost in delight.

After a few more deep thrusts given to your already overstimulated pussy, you feel Fyodor cum inside you, filling your insides with warm liquid.

Fyodor drops your hips onto the bed and kisses your forehead as he gives himself a few seconds to breathe naturally again. You just lie there on the bed, ruined. He pulls out of you and before long you feel the strange sensation of his semen coming out of you, but you're too tired to care.

Your eyes close, but you can feel Fyodor untie your injured wrists. You leave them immobile on the sides of your head, you can bet that they will surely get a red hue in a few seconds.

You don't know how much time passed, but you spent it in a state of semi-consciousness until Fyodor's hand on your back made you alert.

"Come on, дорогой. Have some water." You open your eyes between complaints. The man helps you to sit up in a sitting position and tips the glass full of water into your mouth. It doesn't take you a second to drink it. You feel how the cold water helps your throat, exhausted from screaming.

"Are you alright? Was I too hard?" You snort with a smile and rest your sleepy head on his bare shoulder. His hand caresses your back reassuringly.

"I'm fine, just very tired. My wrists do hurt a little, though." You see how bruises are already appearing on them. Maybe having used such a tight rope had been a bad idea, but you hadn't really been able to notice the pain before.

"Mmmh… Next time I'll be sure to get something softer." He says thoughtfully, dropping his face into your messy hair. "Maybe some velvet handcuffs will suit you."

He picks up one of your wrists with his free hand and brings it to his smiling lips, kissing it.

"I'm sure they would."

"But now, ideally, we'd better take a bath, okay, дорогой?" You complain uselessly because within minutes you are already inside the bathtub together with Fyodor, with him on your back.

You close your eyes, too relaxed to worry about cleaning yourself, you might as well leave that job to Fyodor. He notices how slowly your breaths slow and your body relaxes against his.

He decides not to bother you, he's annoyed you enough today. This time it's his turn to take care of you

it is 6 a.m., what am I doing

[lowkeycasanova]

tr(eat) her right

trafalgar law x f!reader

warning: smut (18+)

word count~ 700

You rub on your eyes upon walking into the bathroom in the morning, only to stop in your tracks when you see Law standing in there already.

The blur in your vision resolves, your vision sharpening. Law is at the sink, trimming his goatee. He’s shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him precisely groom his facial hair.

Now, to anyone else, he’s not doing anything special. But to you, you know exactly what’s going to happen.

A while back, he was eating you out, tongue lapping up and down your folds, and his facial hair was a bit scruffier than usual. You later told him how it didn't quite feel comfortable. He made sure it wasn't ever going to happen again.

So now, seeing him trim his hair, you know that he's about to have his face buried in between your legs. All. Night. Long.

The simple thought of it made your head spin. That will never change. You start to imagine what would it be like tonight.

Sitting on his face had its benefits. You couldn't deny that it felt great, but you're still hesitant about it. Law has told you that he wants you to smother him and if he geniunely couldn't breathe, then he'd tell you. Still, you were constantly hoisting yourself up. Until he would pull you back to his mouth and anchor you down with his hands. His mouth felt so good, you didn't even want to pull up. And as if you weren't already on edge, Law would start to moan from how good you tasted. The vibrations would be sent to your clit, making it even harder for you to stay down. His favorite thing about you riding his face would be looking up at you every so often, gripping the headboard with everything you had until you completely collapsed. Causing your orgasm to flow right into his mouth.

Him eating you out while lying on your back was another thing. Whether he was on the floor or on the bed with you, he had to get on his knees and crouch down as low to your pussy as he could. Even though his focus was to pleasure you, he couldn't stop his own cock from swelling. Hearing your breathy moans only made him harder. You knew he needed to be taken care of too, and you whined about wanting to help him out. But he would always ignore you. Him pleausring you was also pleasuring him. All you needed to do was to lie back and let him do the work. However, there were times when he had to do something. One hand would be on you, the other would reach down and he'd start to jerk off. You look at him and got to watch his movements. Slightly lifting your hips up caused him to dig into you even more. His hand pumping his cock would go from fast to slow and sensual.

He's edging. That freak hoe.

You loved being on your back because you got to see how enjoyable this was for him. Also, his dark locks and hand tattoos made you weak in the knees. You'd sometimes grab ahold to his hair, tugging at the strands from how good you were feeling and to keep him in that position. As if he was going anywhere.

But it didn't stop there. He takes his hand from his cock and uses his two fingers tatted 'A' and 'T' to push into your soaking wet folds. It's like it released the pressure that had been building up in the pit of your stomach, making you cum quicker and harder, clenching his fingers. The taste of your freshly fucked, oversensitive pussy was like a reward, along with the sight of you pulsating in front of him.

Law could eat you out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And honestly, it didn't matter what position y'all were in. As long as he got to pleasure you.

You're brought back to reality, seeing him stand in front of the sink. He catches your eye from the mirror and gives you a smirk.

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part vii

Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Time passes by, but Joel's feelings and the promises he has made to you are still lingering.

w.c: 9,6k

warnings: angst, harassment, mention of being hostage, mentions of blood, fluff. no proofreading. oh, there's a time jump.

a/n: Hello! This is the third chapter in a row that I don't feel satisfied with. I hope you like it though. Thank you so much for all the love you have given me with this one and I want to tell you that the next chapter will be the last one. I have some ideas for new fics, so I hope to have the strength to write. Thank you so much again and remember that Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I would go mad if something happens to you.

Months pass and life cycle moves. You couldn't even get used to the idea of it. Since you were a little girl you could notice the tree's leaves changing into brown and blossoming months after.

Time went too slow when you were a kid, but it went too fast when the world descended into madness.

It passed fast when you lose your parents.

It passed fast when you lost your sister to a mad man who bit her.

And it passed too slow when you cried to sleep hoping to find someone and kill the loneliness that consumed you.

You wouldn't have imagined that there would be a man and a daughter that would change the scary ending of a woman navigating into a mad world.

Now with Rosie growing up, you could see that time didn't forget, it pauses.

Spring blossomed, the heat of summer came and autumn leaves started falling on the ground.

And Rosie was seven months, she had become a source of happiness for you and Joel. You had got used to the normalcy Jackson provided, completely detached form the reality back at the QZ. Here, you could breathe without constantly looking over your shoulder. The peace felt surreal, as if Jackson existed in a bubble untouched by the chaos outside its walls. You found a rhythm in the days: waking up to Rosie’s soft coos, the gentle mornings spent together with Joel as you adjusted to the family life, you’d both never thought possible. And then there was Ellie, who’d become your family too, her bond with Rosie growing stronger with every passing day. It was as though the world had given you a second chance, a life that felt safe, a life you could finally call your own.

 But still, some nights you had to get up from bed and comfort Ellie from the guilt she felt and not being the chance of saving the world, at not being able to give Rosie a better world as she had promised you before she left to that hospital.

In those quiet, midnight hours, you would find Ellie sitting by the window, looking out into the dark, her expression shadowed by a weight that hadn’t left her since her return.

She held Rosie close, as if this little piece of innocence could somehow soothe the burdens she carried. And every time, you would gently place a hand on her shoulder, grounding her back to the present.

“Ellie, you’ve given her everything she needs—a world where she can grow up safe, with people who love her,” you’d say, your voice soft but steady. “That’s more than most people get in this life. You saved her, Ellie. And you’re saving her every day.”

Ellie would nod, her fingers brushing over Rosie’s little hand, but the guilt lingered. You could see it in her eyes—the questions, the what-ifs. She’d murmur about the promise she’d made to you and herself, the weight of what she couldn’t change. And in these moments, you reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

Joel, too, had his own ways of comforting her. He would tell stories of the world before, of the simple joys he’d had with his own daughter, Sarah. Ellie listened closely, soaking in the memories and glimpses of a life she could only imagine. She became part of this family, tangled in the bond you and Joel shared with Rosie. Tommy and Maria had welcomed a baby boy, who become part of your little family too, creating a new sense of hope that replaced the endless need for answers.

As autumn deepened, the nights grew longer, but the warmth in your small home was a steady light. Together, you were all healing, not just from wounds of the past but from the burden of being the ones who had survived when so many hadn’t. You realized that the love you shared was a gift, one that filled in the cracks left by the world’s broken promises.

Jackson had given each of you something to hold on to: a chance to live, not just survive.

To be human and to have kindness all over again.

The arrival of a new doctor, a young woman named Lena, had shifted things in Jackson. She was efficient, kind, and carried herself with an air of calm that put people at ease. It wasn’t long before she’d settled into her new role, and everyone, even Paul, seemed to take a liking to her. You noticed the way his attention veered toward her whenever she was around. For the first time in months, you felt him loosen his grip on you—both literally and in the unwelcome ways he used to hover.

But the relief was short-lived. Though Paul was now distant, something lingered in the way he looked at you from across the square or when you were with Joel, his gaze sharp, bitter, as if he were wrestling with unspoken resentment. It sent a chill through you, the way he lingered just long enough to make you question his intentions. You’d catch his eyes on you while laughing with Joel or holding Rosie close, and despite the distance he kept, it was clear he hadn’t completely let go of the past.

“You’re safe,” Joel would say when he felt you tense under Paul’s gaze, his voice warm yet firm, as if willing you to believe it as fiercely as he did. “I won’t let him hurt you, not again. I promise.”

Over time, you tried to let Joel’s words settle the unease in your heart, and each day in Jackson was a step further from the shadows of the past. Rosie’s laughter filled the quiet corners of your home, and Ellie’s confidence slowly returned, bolstered by her new role in the community. The family you had all become created a protective circle, one that, despite the lingering fear, was beginning to feel like a fortress of your own making.

But in a lawless world, good things weren’t forever.

You were in the storage room, organizing some of the supplies for the community. It was a quiet day, and the rhythmic task of sorting and counting had put your mind at ease for a while. The door creaked behind you, and without turning around, you assumed it was Ellie coming in with Rosie, as she often did when Joel was out on patrol.

“Hey, you can leave Rosie’s blanket in the corner,” you called out casually, continuing to count the jars of preserves. When there was no response, you glanced over your shoulder. The door was closed, but you didn’t see Ellie or hear Rosie’s familiar babbling.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, you set down the jar in your hand and turned fully toward the door, a growing sense of unease building in your chest. You walked over to check the door, trying to calm the alarm bells ringing in your mind. But as your hand reached for the handle, the door wouldn’t budge.

It was locked.

A cold chill ran down your spine, and you turned quickly to face the room, dread pooling in your stomach. Standing by the shelves was Paul, his eyes fixed on you with an expression you couldn’t quite read—calm, yet unnerving.

“Paul,” you said, your voice low and controlled, though fear was rising inside you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t move, just stood there, blocking the only exit. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply, his voice almost conversational, like you were discussing the weather.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. “I’ve been busy,” you replied, stepping away from the door, putting distance between the two of you.

“I get that,” he said, taking a step forward, closing the gap. “But I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left to say, Paul,” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse racing. You tried to keep your movements calm, looking for a way out without escalating the situation.

Paul’s eyes darkened slightly. “You’ve always been different. I saw it the first time we met. You’re not like the others. Strong. Independent. And I was there when Joel wasn’t, remember? I took care of you.”

A wave of anger surged through you at his words. “Joel has always been there,” you said firmly, your voice sharpening. “And I don’t need anything from you.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, the calm mask he wore slipped. “I could’ve been good for you,” he muttered, his voice lowering, a bitter edge creeping in. “You should’ve given me a chance.”

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and you felt your muscles tense, ready for anything. “Unlock the door, Paul,” you said, keeping your tone steady but firm, your heart hammering in your chest.

He stared at you for a moment longer, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he finally moved toward the door, his hand resting on the lock. “I hope you think about what you’re throwing away,” he said, his voice cold now.

He unlocked the door, but didn’t open it. Instead, he stood there, watching you, as if waiting for you to say something. You didn’t. You just stared back at him, your resolve unwavering, until he finally opened the door and stepped out, leaving you alone in the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a shaky breath, your legs feeling weak beneath you.

You stood there for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened settle in. Your hands trembled slightly as you grabbed the supplies you’d been working on, trying to focus on anything to calm yourself down. But the fear and anger that Paul had stirred inside you wouldn’t leave. You had to get out of that room, out of the suffocating memory of his presence.

Leaving the supplies behind, you walked out of the storage room, making your way toward home. Every step felt heavier as your mind raced. You knew Joel had to know what had just happened, but you dreaded telling him. You could already imagine the storm that would follow—the fury in Joel’s eyes, his protective instincts kicking in. He wouldn’t take this lightly, and you didn’t want anything to happen that would make the situation even worse.

But Paul had crossed a line. He’d locked you in that room, he’d tried to manipulate you, and that was something you couldn’t let slide.

When you finally reached the house, your heart was pounding. The house felt empty without Joel or Ellie there. Rosie’s toys were scattered across the floor, a few baby blankets draped over the couch, and it brought you some comfort knowing that your daughter was safe, likely with Ellie or Maria.

You sat down for a moment, running your hands through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts. You couldn’t avoid this any longer.

Just as you were about to get up, the front door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, his face tired from a long day of patrol. He paused when he saw you sitting on the couch, his brows furrowing with concern as he sensed something was off.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming over to you. “You okay?”

You forced a small smile, nodding, though you felt like every nerve in your body was screaming the truth. Joel’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, sensing something was off despite your best efforts to hide it. He sat down beside you, reaching out and gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek in a way that made your guard falter.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “I can see it plain as day when something’s eating at you.”

A sigh escaped you, and you looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s... it’s just been a long day. The supplies inventory went a little longer than usual.” You winced at your own excuse, but the last thing you wanted was to burden him with this, not after everything he had already carried for you. And yet, the memory of Paul’s face as he’d locked that door lingered, filling you with an unease you couldn’t shake.

Joel’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you finally looked up to find his gaze fixed on you with that fierce, unwavering look that said he’d stand by you through anything. You could almost feel his determination, his need to protect. And you knew, deep down, that keeping this from him would only make things worse.

“Are you usure?” he asked, his soft brown eyes looking deep into your eyes.

“I’m sure,” you replied, forcing another smile that felt brittle on your lips. You could see the uncertainty lingering in his eyes, but you desperately wanted to believe your own words, to convince both him and yourself that everything was fine.

But as you spoke, the truth gnawed at you. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken worry hanging like a cloud between you. You could sense Joel's instincts kicking in, the way he was calculating every detail, every change in your expression.

“Okay,” he said slowly, though the skepticism in his tone was evident. “But if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. You don’t have to shoulder it alone.”

You nodded again, though the weight on your chest remained heavy. You wished you could share everything with him—the fear, the anger, the vulnerability—but you were afraid of what that might bring. Afraid of how he would react if he knew just how deep your scars ran.

Joel shifted closer, his presence radiating warmth and comfort. “Let’s go check on Rosie,” he suggested, a gentle smile breaking through his concern. “I think she might be waking up from her nap.”

You smiled up at him, a playful glint in your eye. “Oh no. Ellie stole Rosie. She took her on a walk.” You leaned your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. It was a comforting sound, grounding you in the moment.

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That girl’s gonna spoil her rotten,” he said, the worry in his voice easing just a bit as he relaxed into the light-hearted banter. “C’mon, let’s go rescue our baby from her.”

As you stepped outside, the crisp air greeted you, the autumn leaves swirling around in a golden dance. You spotted Ellie at the end of the street, her silhouette bouncing with Rosie strapped to her chest in a baby carrier.

“Look at that!” you said, nudging Joel playfully. “She’s got her all to herself.”

As you approached, Ellie turned to greet you, her grin wide. “Hey! We were just enjoying the fresh air. Rosie loves it out here!”

Joel’s brows furrowed slightly, a mix of concern and annoyance crossing his features. “You sure she’s okay out here?” he asked, eyeing the carrier with a protective gaze.

“Relax, old man,” Ellie teased, rolling her eyes but clearly enjoying the banter. “I’ve got this.”

You watched the exchange with a smile, appreciating the bond forming between them. It was a light-hearted moment that filled you with warmth, but even as you laughed and chatted with them, a flicker of unease nagged at you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Paul was still lingering in the background, like a storm cloud waiting to burst. But for now, in the safety of this moment with Joel and Rosie, you pushed those thoughts aside, choosing to savor the laughter and the love that surrounded you.

“Alright, let’s head back home,” you suggested, hoping to steer the conversation away from any looming threats. “I think Rosie could use a snack before her next nap.”

“Good idea,” Joel said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you all started to walk back. At that moment, surrounded by the people you loved, you felt a fleeting sense of safety, a reminder that there were still beautiful moments to hold onto amidst the chaos of life.

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. Joel lay in bed, propped up on one elbow, watching you sleep. Your face was relaxed, peaceful in the way only sleep could allow, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of contentment—where the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of those he loved most.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake you, and glanced over at Rosie’s crib, where their daughter slept soundly, a little bundle of joy. The way she curled up, her tiny fingers reaching out as if searching for comfort, tugged at his heart. It was a reminder of everything they had fought for, everything that had led them to this moment of relative peace.

But as he watched you, he also felt the weight of the past pressing down on him. As the sun continued to rise, casting a golden hue in the room, Joel felt an overwhelming urge to protect you both, to shield you from any harm that could come your way. He wanted to be the kind of man who could ensure you felt safe, cherished, and loved—every single day.

He gently reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment as he admired the way the morning light danced across your features. It was a simple act, but it filled him with warmth, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could create a life free of fear.

Just as he was about to lean in closer, Rosie stirred in her crib, letting out a soft coo. Joel’s gaze snapped to her, and a smile spread across his face. He glanced back at you, still lost in sleep, and quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb you.

He made his way to Rosie’s crib, lifting her gently into his arms. She let out a sleepy yawn, her eyes fluttering open, and he chuckled softly. “Good morning, little girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As he cradled Rosie, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be different. There was a strange feeling tugging his heart.

He wanted to talk to you, to reassure you that no matter what had happened, he was there for you, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away.

He carried Rosie into the kitchen, starting to prepare breakfast, humming softly to her as he moved about the space. The smell of coffee brewing filled the air, mixing with the scent of warm pancakes. He couldn’t wait for you to wake up and share the morning with him and Rosie, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

After a few moments, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. He turned, and there you were, stretching as you entered the kitchen, a sleepy smile gracing your lips. The sight of you made his heart race; you looked beautiful even in the early morning light.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the warmth in his tone betrayed the excitement he felt at seeing you.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice still thick with sleep. You glanced at Rosie in his arms, your eyes lighting up. “What’s going on over here?”

“Just making breakfast,” he said, moving closer so you could take Rosie from him.

You took Rosie, your face lighting up as she cooed in response. “You’re the best,” you said, planting a soft kiss on Rosie’s forehead.

Joel couldn’t help but grin, watching the two of you together. It was moments like this that reminded him of why he had fought so hard to protect you both. He wanted to create a life filled with love and happiness, a life where fear didn’t overshadow everything else.

As you moved to the kitchen table, settling Rosie in her high chair, he couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled on his heart.

After breakfast, the mood was light, laughter bubbling up between you and Joel as you tidied up the kitchen. But the reality of the day weighed heavily on Joel's shoulders as he checked the time. It was time for him to head out on patrol.

“Hey,” he said, brushing his fingers against your arm as he stepped closer. “You sure you’re okay with me leaving?” His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of concern lingering in his eyes.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just spending some time with Maria and Rosie today.” The reassurance seemed to ease some of the tension in his features.

“Alright.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that continued giving you butterflies inside your stomach.

With one last look at you and Rosie, Joel grabbed his gear and headed for the door, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house. You watched him leave, a mixture of pride and concern washing over you. You knew he had a duty to protect Jackson, but every time he walked out that door, your heart clenched a little tighter.

Once he was gone, you turned to Rosie, who was babbling happily in her high chair, her small hands reaching for the toys scattered around her. You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm; it was infectious.

“Looks like it’s just you and me today, kiddo,” you said, scooping her up and placing her on your hip. “Let’s go see Maria. She’ll love to see you.”

As you walked out the door, the crisp autumn air greeted you, and the vibrant colors of the leaves seemed to dance around you. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over Jackson, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

You strolled through the streets, greeting familiar faces as you made your way to Maria’s house. It felt good to be part of a community, to know that you were surrounded by people who cared about each other.

When you finally arrived, Maria was outside, tending to her garden. She looked up and smiled warmly at the sight of you and Rosie. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little girl!” she exclaimed, kneeling down to meet Rosie’s curious gaze.

“Hi, Maria!” you greeted, handing Rosie over so she could be cuddled in Maria’s arms.

“Come to brighten my day, have you?” Maria teased, cradling Rosie gently. “What are you two up to today?”

“Just thought we’d hang out, maybe help you with some chores around here,” you replied, the mention of chores bringing a smile to Maria’s face.

“That sounds perfect! I could use an extra set of hands.” She looked at you knowingly, her expression softening. “And it’ll be nice to catch up.”

As you entered the house, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble. Maria always had a way of making her home feel inviting and warm, just like her personality.

While Maria prepared some snacks, you settled onto the couch with Rosie, who was busy reaching for the various toys scattered around. “You’ve been so brave lately,” you murmured to her, feeling the weight of your own fears lift slightly in the comforting presence of Maria and Rosie.

“Paul threatened me yesterday” you confessed.

Maria paused her movements, “Joel went after him, didn’t he?” she asked after a long pause, her voice cautious.

You shook your head, feeling a mix of emotions rise in your chest. “He threatened me, Maria. He’s been hanging around, and I don’t feel safe anymore.”

Maria sighed, her expression conflicted. “I’m not defending Paul, believe me. What he did was wrong. But there’s something you need to know about him, about why he is the way he is.”

You looked up at her, surprised by the weight of her words. “What do you mean?”

Maria took a deep breath and walked over to the table, sitting down across from you. “Paul wasn’t always like this. When he first came to Jackson, he was different, quiet, kind, a good doctor. He’d just lost his wife and daughter in the outbreak, and I think that broke something in him. He’s been carrying that grief for years, and I think it’s twisted him into someone he wasn’t meant to be.”

You frowned, trying to reconcile the man Maria was describing with the one who had threatened you. “That doesn’t excuse what he did,” you said softly, more to yourself than to her.

“No, it doesn’t,” Maria agreed. “But it explains it. Paul never got help. He never really let himself heal. And now, he’s become this… person who tries to control everything because he couldn’t save the ones he loved. He’s stuck in that grief, and it’s poisoning everything around him.”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. It didn’t make you feel any better about what had happened, but it gave you a new perspective. Paul wasn’t just a man who had tried to manipulate and threaten you, he was a broken person, consumed by his own loss.

"I lost my family too," you murmured, your voice quiet but filled with a deep ache. "Joel lost his daughter." You felt the familiar sting of grief rise up in your chest. "He hasn’t done—" You paused, the weight of what you knew about Joel, the secrets he carried, pulling at you.

Maria looked at you, her expression soft but knowing. “It’s different for everyone,” she said gently, sensing the unfinished sentence. “Grief changes people in ways we can’t always predict. Some people shut down, some lash out… and some do things they never thought they’d be capable of.”

You swallowed hard, nodding but not trusting yourself to speak. Joel had done things—things that no one else knew, things that weighed heavily on him. And you had promised to carry those secrets with him, even if they still haunted you both.

“But what happened to Paul is not your burden to carry,” Maria added, her voice firm. “You’ve been through enough. You and Joel have your family to think about now, and Paul can’t be a part of that. I’ll talk to Tommy; we’ll make sure Paul knows he can’t come near you again.”

You nodded slowly, grateful for her understanding but still feeling uneasy. “I just want to feel safe, Maria. After everything… I just want to protect my family.”

Maria reached across the table and squeezed your hand. “You will. We’ll make sure of it.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, feeling a little lighter knowing that Maria was on your side. But as you sat there, sipping your tea and listening to the quiet sounds of Jackson waking up outside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things with Paul weren’t over. His pain, his brokenness—it wasn’t something that could be easily fixed or swept away. And while you didn’t want to live in fear, you couldn’t deny the sense of unease that lingered in the back of your mind.

Later that evening, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. You found yourself drawn to the bar in Jackson. Ellie was with Rosie at Dina’s place, assuring you she would take care of her while you could be yourself for a bit.

As you entered, the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air. You scanned the room, spotting a few friends from the community. The atmosphere was warm, and you tried to let the energy wash over you, but the nagging unease about Paul lingered in the back of your mind.

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink and chatting with the bartender for a moment. But as you turned to survey the crowd, your heart dropped. Paul was there, leaning against the far wall, a half-empty glass in his hand. He hadn’t seen you yet, but you could feel the tension in the air thicken.

You considered your options: you could leave, slip out the door before he noticed you, or you could stay and confront the fear that had been growing ever since your last encounter.

You took a deep breath, your pulse quickening as you weighed the choice. Deciding to stand your ground, you turned back to your drink, attempting to appear calm while keeping your gaze from drifting back in Paul’s direction.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. “Mind if I join you?” Paul’s voice cut through the noise, smooth but laced with an undercurrent of something darker.

You forced yourself to look at him, masking your discomfort with a polite smile. “Actually, I was just leaving,” you replied, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling inside.

He chuckled softly, a hint of arrogance in his demeanor. “You don’t have to be like that. I’m not here to cause trouble.” His eyes locked onto yours, searching, probing.

You crossed your arms defensively, unwilling to let him in. “Is that so? Because it feels like you have a knack for trouble.”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. “You don’t understand, do you? I know what you and Joel have been through. I can help you.”

A wave of anger surged through you, pushing you to your feet. “Help? By locking me in a room? By manipulating me?” You couldn’t keep the sharpness from your tone.

Paul’s smile faltered, and for a brief moment, you saw a flash of something, frustration, maybe even desperation “Actually I wanted to say sorry for that” he said.

You straightened, your heart racing as you felt a protective instinct for Joel kick in. “I don’t believe you.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you felt a chill creep down your spine. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he said, his tone shifting dangerously low.

Before you could respond, a figure appeared behind you. It was Joel, his presence commanding and protective. He caught your eye, a silent question passing between you.

“Everything okay here?” Joel asked, his gaze flickering to Paul, the tension in the air suddenly palpable.

“Just having a friendly chat,” Paul replied, his tone too casual. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his demeanor shifted as Joel approached.

Joel stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think you should be talking to her at all.”

You felt a mix of relief and fear wash over you, knowing that Paul was the last person you wanted to deal with while Joel was around. But you also saw the challenge in Paul’s gaze, a flicker of anger igniting in him.

“I was just leaving,” Paul said, his voice tight. “But I’ll be watching, you know.” He winked at you before pushing away from the wall, heading toward the exit.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for Joel’s presence but still shaken. “Are you okay?” Joel asked, his hand finding yours, grounding you in the moment.

“Yeah,” you replied, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I’ve got your back.” Joel reassured.

Later, some nights after that night, you found yourself wrapped in the warmth of your bed. The familiar scent of Joel lingered in the sheets, soothing your racing thoughts.

Joel lay beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he traced shapes in the air with his fingers, a contemplative look on his face. After a moment, he turned to you, propping himself up on one elbow. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern etched in his brow.

You met his gaze, trying to smile. “I am now. Just… a lot on my mind.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I get it. I don’t like that guy lurking around. But you don’t have to worry about him; he’s all talk.”

You swallowed, grateful for his reassurance but still unsettled. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want him to mess with our life here. I’m finally feeling like I belong.”

Joel’s face softened at that, and he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You belong here, with me and Rosie and Ellie. No one can take that from us.”

The warmth of his words washed over you, and you nodded, feeling a wave of comfort. “What about tomorrow? What are you thinking?”

Joel smiled, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “I was thinking about finding a guitar for Ellie. I promised I’d teach her a few songs, and she’s been talking about it nonstop.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Ellie learning to play. “That sounds perfect. She’ll love that.”

“Yeah,” Joel said, a hint of a grin creeping onto his lips. “I was hoping you’d join me. It’d be nice to have you there, and I could use your eye for spotting a good guitar.”

The idea brightened your mood, and you found yourself nodding eagerly. “I’d love to. It’ll be fun to spend time with you outside.”

“Good,” he replied, a sense of relief washing over his features.

“But what about Rosie?” you inquired.

“I already talked to Tommy, Maria is helping at watching her, so don’t worry, mama” he said, caressing your arm.

You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and for a moment, the weight of the world outside melted away.

“Joel?” you murmured, looking up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything. For keeping me safe and for being here.”

His expression turned serious, and he placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer. “I’d do it all over again if it means keeping you and Rosie safe. You’re my world.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. “And you’re mine.”

“I’ll go mad if something happens to you” he said.

The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a warm glow over Jackson. You and Joel stepped outside, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs with each breath. The vibrant leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, the colors painting the landscape in hues of orange and gold. It felt like a perfect day for an adventure.

Joel’s hand found yours as you strolled along the familiar path, his touch grounding you in the moment. “You ready for this?” he asked, a hint of excitement lacing his voice.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your spirits lifted by the beauty of the day and his presence by your side. “I can’t wait to see Ellie’s face when she gets that guitar.”

“Me neither. Just hope we find a good one,” he said, glancing sideways at you with a grin.

As you walked, you chatted about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily. It was moments like these that made you realize how far you had come from the chaos of your past. The threat of the outside world felt distant, and for a while, you could just be.

“Look at that view,” you said, stopping to take in the sprawling landscape before you. The mountains stood majestically in the distance, their peaks dusted with early signs of winter.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Joel agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon.

You stepped into the shop, the door creaking ominously behind you. The interior was dim, lit only by the flickering light of the rays of sunshine. Dust danced in the air, swirling around forgotten instruments that lined the walls, remnants of a world that once thrived.

Joel moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the shop for any signs of danger. “Keep your head on a swivel,” he murmured, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, feeling a familiar knot of tension in your stomach. Every sound seemed amplified in the stillness of the shop. You stayed close to Joel, your heart racing as you navigated through the narrow aisles filled with instruments. You couldn’t shake the feeling that danger lurked just beyond the walls.

Joel picked up a guitar from a nearby rack, strumming a few notes. The sound was rich and resonant, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped the town outside. “This one sound good,” he said, a flicker of excitement breaking through his serious demeanor.

“Perfect for Ellie,” you replied, forcing a smile. The tension still hung in the air, but you wanted to enjoy this moment, to reclaim a sliver of normalcy even in a world turned upside down.

As Joel inspected the guitar, you glanced out the grimy window, your heart tightening at the sight of the empty street. Jackson felt safe, but you couldn’t shake the memories of the horrors you had all faced. The ever-looming threat of raiders or infected was never far from your mind, even in the moments of calm.

“Let’s hurry,” you urged, a sense of urgency creeping in. “I don’t like being out in the open for too long.”

Joel nodded, placing the guitar back on its stand. “You’re right. Let’s see if there’s anything else we can grab before heading out.”

You moved deeper into the shop, scanning the shelves for any useful supplies. A few picks and a worn-out tuner caught your eye, and you quickly grabbed them. Just then, a faint rustle echoed from the back room.

Joel stiffened, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife tucked into his belt. “Stay close,” he said, his voice low and serious.

You felt your heart race as you moved beside him, every instinct screaming to prepare for the worst. The rustling grew louder, and Joel nodded toward the back room, signaling for you to stay put as he crept toward the sound.

As he approached, the rustling stopped. You held your breath, every muscle tense as you watched him disappear into the shadows. Moments felt like hours as you waited, fear coursing through you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Then, you heard it—a muffled sound, a faint cry. Panic surged within you. “Joel!” you called again, urgency propelling you forward.

Joel emerged from the shadows of the back room, his expression a mixture of relief and caution. “It’s just a cat,” he said, his voice steady, though you could see the tension in his shoulders. He stepped aside to reveal a small, scruffy tabby, its green eyes blinking in the dim light.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for the distraction but still shaken. “Just a cat?” you said, half-laughing, half-sighing. “I thought it was something serious.”

“Don’t let it fool ya,” Joel replied, kneeling down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Even the little ones can bite.”

You smiled at his comment, but the nagging feeling in your chest remained. Something felt off. It had been too quiet out there, and you couldn’t shake the sensation that trouble was lurking just beyond the walls of your temporary safety.

After gathering a few supplies, you felt the weight of worry settling heavily on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus on the task at hand; your thoughts kept drifting back to Rosie.

“Joel,” you murmured, glancing back toward the entrance, “we need to hurry. I have a bad feeling about Rosie.”

He looked at you, concern etched across his features. “You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, biting your lip. “But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s like something is off.”

Joel nodded, his expression turning serious. “Alright, let’s finish up here and head back. We’ll check on her.”

As you left the shop, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the deserted streets. The eerie silence wrapped around you like a thick fog, making every step feel more precarious than the last.

Once you reached your home, the sense of unease deepened. You pushed the door open, calling out, “Rosie! Ellie!” Silence filled the room, and your stomach dropped.

“Where are they?” you whispered, panic creeping in.

Joel’s face tightened as he moved through the house, checking rooms with quick precision. “They might be outside,” he suggested, though you could see the concern in his eyes mirrored your own.

You rushed to the backyard, calling out for Ellie and Rosie, but only the rustling of leaves answered. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, shadows stretching long across the ground. The peaceful atmosphere of Jackson suddenly felt ominous.

“Joel!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “What if something happened? What if Paul—”

As you approached Maria’s home, your steps quickened, a feeling of unease settling deep in your stomach. Joel, sensing it too, sped up beside you, his hand brushing your arm to reassure you.

You knocked once, then twice, before pushing the door open, calling out, “Maria?” But there was no response. Just silence.

Your heart pounded as you moved quickly through the house, each room emptier than the last, until you reached the back room. There was Maria, alone, her face pale and her hands clenched in a fist.

“Maria, where’s Rosie?” Joel asked, his voice tight, barely masking his growing fear.

Maria looked up, guilt and sorrow written across her face. “I... I put her down for a nap, and I just stepped out to check on something in the kitchen. I swear, I was only gone for a minute, but when I came back...” Her voice faltered, breaking as she looked away. “She was gone.”

A cold wave of fear washed over you as you stumbled back, your mind racing with questions, each more terrifying than the last. Joel’s face had gone pale, his hands clenched as he took a step forward.

"Who saw her? Did anyone see anything?" Joel's voice was barely controlled, but Maria shook her head.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I... I never thought—”

Without another word, Joel turned and stormed out of the house, and you followed him, your own heart pounding with panic as you raced into the street. People began to gather, sensing something was wrong, whispers passing between them.

"Paul," Joel muttered, his jaw clenched with such intensity that you could see the tension rippling through his shoulders.

A knot twisted in your stomach as his words sank in. You hadn’t seen Paul in days, and the thought that he could have taken Rosie filled you with a terror so deep it was paralyzing. But Joel’s fierce determination grounded you, his hand reaching out to squeeze yours tightly, his gaze steely as he looked at you.

“We’re getting her back,” he said, voice low and unshakable. "No matter what it takes."

“No,” you said firmly, meeting Joel’s intense gaze. “I’m going to get her back.”

He shook his head, looking as though he was about to argue, but you placed a hand on his chest, your expression resolute.

“I know Paul. He’s obsessed with me, Joel. If he sees you coming, he’ll… he might hurt her just to get to me. But if I go, I can talk to him, convince him.” Your voice was steady, stronger than you felt, but deep down, you knew this was the only way. “He wants me to come to him. Let me do this.”

Joel’s jaw clenched as he searched your face, the raw desperation in his eyes mirroring your own. “I can’t let you go in there alone,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, holding his gaze. “I promise, you won’t.”

After a long, agonizing moment, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Alright,” he said, his voice rough, strained. “But I’ll be right behind you. I’ll keep my distance, but I’ll be close, watching, ready.”

You nodded, relief and fear warring within you as you squeezed his hand. “I know you will.”

With one last look, you turned and headed toward the edge of Jackson, your heart hammering as you moved toward the place you suspected Paul might be hiding. You could feel Joel’s presence following you at a careful distance, his silent promise of backup giving you the strength to take each step forward.

As you reached the secluded area outside the town, you spotted an old cabin tucked within the trees. It looked run-down, barely visible from the path, but a faint light flickered through the window—a sign of life.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the door, keeping your composure steady even as every instinct screamed at you to run. You knocked, and a shuffling sound came from inside. Then, the door creaked open, and there he was—Paul, his eyes lighting up with a twisted sense of satisfaction as he saw you.

“I knew you’d come,” he said, his tone smug and expectant, his gaze flickering with a manic gleam. “I knew you’d understand… that you’d finally come to your senses.”

“Where’s my daughter, Paul?” You kept your voice calm, unwavering, as you held his gaze.

He hesitated, his face twisting with something dark. “She’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt something… something that’s part of you.” He stepped back, motioning for you to come inside. “She’s in here, waiting for her mother.”

You steeled yourself and stepped inside, eyes scanning the dim room until you spotted Rosie in the corner, bundled in blankets, asleep but unharmed. Relief flooded through you, but you kept your expression controlled, knowing that any sudden reaction could set Paul off.

“Paul,” you began, keeping your tone soft, as non-threatening as possible. “You don’t have to do this. We can go back to Jackson. I’ll come with you. Just let me hold my daughter first.”

He looked at you, suspicion flickering in his eyes, but he nodded slowly. As you approached Rosie, every muscle in your body tensed, ready to grab her and make your escape.

Just as you picked her up, Rosie stirred, and her eyes fluttered open, her tiny face relaxing as she saw you. You held her close, your heart pounding with both relief and terror as you turned back to Paul.

Paul watched you, his eyes hollow and haunted, but behind that darkness was something else—a hint of pain, sorrow. His gaze lingered on Rosie, softening just a little, but it returned to you with a fierce, unsettling intensity.

“You remind me of her, you know?” he began, his voice low, almost a murmur. “My wife. She was… strong, like you. Determined.”

You held his gaze, wary but silent, waiting to see where he was going with this. He continued, his eyes distant, as if he were seeing something from a lifetime ago.

“I lost them both. My wife, my daughter—they were everything. We were together, out there in the wilderness, surviving. I thought… I thought we’d be safe. But one day, it was just me.” He paused, his face twisting as he choked back something raw. “Just me. I couldn’t save them.”

Your heart twisted with a twinge of pity, the sorrow in his words tugging at you, but you kept your guard up, knowing how quickly his demeanor could shift.

“You—you and Rosie,” he said, his voice cracking. “It felt like fate when I saw you that day. Like I’d been given a second chance to protect someone.” He took a step closer, and you tightened your grip on Rosie, keeping her secure.

“Paul… I understand that pain,” you said softly, hoping to reach the part of him that was still rational. “But I’m not her. And Rosie… she’s Joel’s daughter. We have our own lives.”

He looked at you, his expression darkening with a flash of anger. “But he can’t protect you like I can. He doesn’t know what it’s like to lose everything like I do. You should be with someone who understands—who would do anything to keep you safe.”

You took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze. “Joel knows that pain too. He lost his own daughter… and he’s done nothing but protect us, even from things like this. I’m sorry, Paul. I know you’re hurting. But you have to let go.”

He shook his head, the bitterness etched into his face as he clenched his fists. “You don’t get it. You were supposed to be my second chance.”

Just then, movement outside the window caught your eye, and you realized Joel was close, watching, ready to act. You turned back to Paul, feeling a surge of courage as you took a small step forward.

Paul’s face twisted with rage as he realized what was happening, his hand darting toward his belt, where a knife glinted in the dim light. But before he could make a move, Joel burst through the door, his presence a wall of fury and determination.

As soon as Paul saw Joel approaching, something in him snapped. His face twisted with desperation and anger, and in one quick, impulsive move, he shoved you out of the way. You stumbled back, caught off-guard, and before you could steady yourself, your head struck the corner of a table with a sickening thud. The world around you spun, and then everything went dark.

Joel’s heart dropped as he watched you collapse, unconscious, with Rosie still in your arms. A flash of fury crossed his face as he looked back at Paul, whose regret flickered only for a brief moment before being replaced by fear. Without hesitation, Joel moved forward, carefully scooping you and Rosie up into his arms, his eyes never leaving Paul.

“You’ve done enough,” he growled, his voice tight with barely restrained rage. “Stay away from my family.”

With that, Joel lunged at Paul

Joel's fist connected with Paul's jaw, the force of the punch sending him sprawling to the ground. Paul grunted in pain, his eyes wide with shock and anger, but Joel didn’t give him a chance to recover. He was on him in an instant, kneeling beside him with fury blazing in his eyes.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Joel hissed, his voice a low growl. He grabbed Paul by the collar, ready to land another blow, but Tommy’s voice cut through the haze of rage.

“Joel! Wait!” Tommy shouted as he stepped into the room, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “We need to handle this differently!”

Joel’s breathing was heavy, the adrenaline coursing through him. He looked back at Paul, who was scrambling to his feet, but then he turned his focus to you.

He dropped to his knees beside you, cradling you and Rosie in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, trying to soothe Rosie, who was wailing. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you both.”

Rosie’s little hands clutched at your clothes, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Joel, searching for comfort. The sight of you unconscious, the blood trickling from your temple, sent a fresh wave of panic through him.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he urged, gently shaking your shoulder. “Please, just open your eyes.”

“Joel,” Tommy said, kneeling beside you, his expression serious. “We need to get her to Maria. She can help.”

Joel nodded, his jaw clenched. “Right.” He carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He felt the warmth of your blood seeping through your clothes, and it made his stomach churn.

“Rosie, come on,” Joel said softly, glancing at his daughter, who was still sniffling. “We’re going to take care of Mommy, okay? You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m right here,” Joel whispered, holding you tighter, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He started moving toward the exit, Tommy leading the way to ensure they could get through the chaos of the bar.

As they stepped outside, the sunlight hit Joel's face, the brightness contrasting sharply with the darkness of the situation. The street was alive with the hustle of Jackson, but in that moment, all he could focus on was you and Rosie.

“Tommy, get help!” Joel commanded, his voice low and urgent. He could feel the tension coiling within him, a mix of anger at Paul and fear for your well-being.

Tommy nodded, sprinting off toward the clinic. Joel turned his attention back to you, feeling your body against him. You were still unconscious, and the sight of the blood on your temple made his heart race with anxiety. He needed you to wake up, to fight through this.

“Stay with me, please,” he whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. I need you to open those beautiful eyes for me.”

As they reached the infirmary, Joel burst through the doors, his heart pounding. He called out for Lena, and within moments, she appeared, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she rushed over.

“What happened?” she asked, quickly assessing the situation.

“Paul... he—” Joel stammered, glancing down at you in his arms, “He pushed her. She hit her head.”

Lena nodded, her hands moving, delicately “Get her on the table,” she instructed, guiding Joel to a nearby exam table. He gently laid you down, feeling Rosie cling tightly to his leg.

“It’s okay, Rosie. Mommy’s gonna be okay,” he reassured, but doubt crept into his mind.

Lena started examining you, her hands steady and practiced. “Joel, I need you to step back for a moment.”

“No,” he said fiercely, unwilling to leave your side. “I’m staying right here.”

“Joel,” she said firmly, her eyes meeting his, “I can’t help her if you’re in the way. Trust me. She is gonna be okay.”

Now, as you lay unconscious in the infirmary back in Jackson, Joel was a wreck. He hadn't left your side since Tommy and a few others had found you in the remote cabin, blood trickling from your temple, unconscious and barely breathing. Paul had disappeared—vanished before anyone could catch him. The sight of you lying on that cold floor, helpless, had destroyed Joel in a way he hadn’t felt since Sarah’s death.

Joel was beside you now, his hand gripping yours, his face hollowed with sleepless nights and worry. He couldn’t keep his emotions in check anymore. “I swear to God,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ll kill him. I’ll find him, and I’ll make sure he never gets close to you again.”

But there was a vulnerability in him, one he couldn’t hide. His thumb brushed against your knuckles, his lips tight, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. He hadn’t protected you, not like he promised. Paul had gotten close to you and Rosie, and Joel hadn’t seen it coming.

Tears filled his eyes, something that hadn’t happened since Sarah. “I let this happen. I should’ve known… I should’ve been there.” He shook his head, looking down at you, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. “You don’t deserve this. Not you.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small, simple ring he had found not long ago. His fingers trembled as he held it in his palm, staring down at it. “I found this for you,” he whispered. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but now…” His breath hitched, and he let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Now I’m sitting here, talking to you while you’re not even awake.”

He gently slid the ring onto your finger, his heart aching as he did. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking. “And when you wake up, you’re marrying me. That’s a damn promise. I know marriage doesn’t hold the same meaning as before, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you, every single day.”

Joel leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath shaky as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. “Just wake up, baby. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

And as Joel sat there, his heart breaking all over again, you stirred. It was faint at first, a small twitch of your hand in his, but it was enough. Joel’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with hope.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice filled with both desperation and relief. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m right here. Just open your eyes for me.”

Slowly, painfully, you did. The room swam into focus, blurry at first, but the first thing you saw was Joel’s tear-streaked face hovering over you. His hand squeezed yours, and the relief in his eyes was overwhelming.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he cupped your face gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” He kissed your forehead, then your temple, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

You felt the weight of the ring on your finger, and despite everything, a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “Is this… your way of proposing?” you rasped, your voice hoarse from the injury and exhaustion.

Joel let out a breathless laugh, his own tears spilling over as he nodded. “Damn right it is,” he whispered. “And when you’re feeling better, we’re gonna make it official.”

You squeezed his hand weakly, the pain still radiating through your body, but you knew one thing for sure: you were going to be okay. You had Joel, and despite everything Paul had done, he couldn’t take that away from you.

Joel smiled through his tears, pressing another kiss to your hand. “I love you,” he whispered, “I’m never letting you go.”

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