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kylorengarbagedump · 5 months ago

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Playing Solider: Chapter 9 (NSFWish)

Read on AO3. Part 8 here. Part 10 here.

Summary: You're really good at making really good decisions under pressure, especially decisions that don't forever alter your relationship with the one man who holds, at noosepoint, everyone you consider dear.

Words: 8800

Warnings: Naughty language ahoy

Characters: William Tavington x Reader

A/N: WHOOP there it is! I almost felt tempted to apologize for the time this chapter took, but I genuinely won't. It is obviously a monster and we were desperate to get it exactly how we wanted it. SO here you go!

This weekend we met Jason Isaacs and we're still kind of reeling from that. He's literally so handsome and unfortunately we are both in love with him? Sadly I hear tell that he has no plans to divorce his wife for a couple of random lesbians who write horny fanfic about him.

WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED, we genuinely are so grateful for every comment, it literally makes our day when we get them, to know that people engage with the story in ways we do! <3 We love you all so much, see you soon <3

Distant thunder churned the surface of your sleep. As you sat up, blinking against darkness, it softened to a roll. Suffused the ground. Became hoofbeats. Outside, men shouted.

A musket fired.

Leaping from your bed, you wrestled yourself into your skirts and bodice, stepped into your shoes, and ran out into the night.

The air tasted sharp, sweet with the coming storm. Through the blackness, torchlight bobbed against the treeline that edged camp, more shouts coming from its direction. You headed toward the noise.

The sounds of fighting swelled as you wove your way through a maze of tents, keeping low between cover until you reached the border of the camp. A supply wagon stood between you and the combat. You pressed yourself against it, peeking around.

Another musket flash cast men into relief, red coats clashing against blue. Your heart seized.

Continentals.

A shout, and a line of horsemen thundered from the trees, sabers drawing like silvered bowstrings across silhouetted necks. Screams rent the night, dark shapes crumpled to the earth. You could just make out the ripple of red and green coats atop the horses as Tavington’s cavalry peeled around to rejoin the regiment of foot at the treeline. One horseman circled around your wagon. In the dark, you just glimpsed his shape. The solid red of his infantry attire.

“Goddard!” you screamed. His head snapped to you, saber raised, eyes shining with terror.

He stuttered your name, reining his horse to a halt. “W-what are y—”

“What’s happening?” you demanded.

He glanced back up to the battle.

“Continentals waylaid us on our march,” he spluttered. “We tried to regroup but they—we couldn’t—” He ducked over his horse as a sparse musket volley crackled within the trees.

“So you led them back to camp?” you asked, incredulous.

“There was nowhere else to go!” Goddard almost sobbed. “We had no orders, I thought the colonel was right behind me but he—”

“Where is the colonel?”

Just then, a riderless horse loped out of the trees. A passing flicker of torchlight revealed Tavington’s chestnut mare, her coat streaked black with sweat. Your insides lurched. As you watched, she veered around a cluster of fighting men, then barrelled straight toward you and Goddard.

You stepped out into her path.

“Don’t!”

You ignored Goddard.

“Whoa, easy.” You held your hands wide, hummed low in your chest.

The horse slowed, dropped her shoulders to sidestep you, eyes rimmed white. With a quick lunge, you grasped her reins, pulled her by the bit into a tight circle around you until she halted, snorting and quivering.

Panic speared you. Without Tavington’s command, if the Continentals were retaking ground—the regiment was done for. You might be done for, if captured by rebels who could very well decide to string you up as a Loyalist. There was no time to overthink this. You gathered the reins at the mare’s withers, slung your foot up into the stirrup, and hauled yourself into the saddle.

“What in God’s name are you doing?”

You spun the mare around to face Goddard. “Where did you last see him?”

The sounds of fighting began to recede farther into the trees. The Continentals were being driven back. Perhaps that would buy you time. You choked down a wave of guilt, an image of your father among the dead or routed soldiers. You shook it away. You had to stay focused.

“You can’t possibly—”

“Goddard,” you snapped. “Where?”

“I don’t know, ah—a couple miles back up the road, maybe?” Softened in the shadow of night, he looked even more like a boy. “There were more soldiers—militia—they’re holding a bridge crossing.”

“I’ll find him,” you said, turning toward the trees.

Goddard spurred his horse up next to you. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you said firmly. Thick drops of rain began to pat your shoulders. “Defend the camp. Get yourself to safety.”

“You can't go alone, it’s madness!”

You grit your teeth. There was no time for this.

“I’ll not be a target on my own, Goddard, but I certainly will be with a redcoat escort.” You nudged the mare forward. “Stay here.”

With one last glimpse at the bewildered Benedict Goddard, you tore toward the trees.

As you skirted the fighting, trunks whipping past you, your only compass was memory. After foraging these woods for weeks, though, you knew them well.

Your eyes scoured the darkness. Caught the shape of the big magnolia tree. You swerved. The road should have bisected the woods north-northeast of it.

The mare took a few more stuttering strides beneath you, crashing through brush. Then the ground dipped, the trees cleared, and you broke out onto hard-packed dirt. Blood singing with triumph, you placed the sounds of battle behind you and pressed into a dead gallop.

Raindrops stippled your face, stinging your eyes as you ducked and squinted. Hooves gouged the dirt, thunder carved its approach through the sky. Beneath your skirts, the saddle bit your thighs raw, but you didn’t slow. Your calves stayed locked against the mare’s ribs until apparitions of men appeared through the thickening sheet of rain, spread across the road ahead.

A flash of lightning, and they were made corporeal. In that brief radiance, you could make out around fifteen. Behind them, a black chasm—water—and the bridge, its planks shining over the river. You could hear the roar, its current churning with the storm’s fury as it rushed past the bank.

Heart hammering, you deepened your seat in the saddle, slowed to a canter. As the shapes of men slowly grew solid edges, dread snaked like cold fingers down your spine. A handful of Continentals, two on horses, turned toward you.

“Halt, there!” one of the cavalrymen shouted. “Halt!”

Trying to avoid the soldiers would result in a chase, something you didn’t need. You cursed under your breath, slowing the mare to a trot. Darkness and rain would help obscure the saddlebags and tack of your mount, but you tossed your skirts around your seat anyway. A horse breaking away from an area of known altercation in a gallop was suspicious enough.

As you approached, one of the foot soldiers advanced. In the darkness, you just made out the shape of his musket as he raised it. You snatched the reins, slamming to a halt.

“Apologies, madam,” said the soldier, lowering his firearm as he drew closer and squinted at you. “We can’t allow you to continue down this road. It’s—”

“We’ll need you to answer some questions.” A cavalryman spurred his horse up, glared at the foot soldier before sidling closer to you, examining you and your mount. “Where are you coming from?”

Deception and conversation were both luxuries that time could not afford you. Without the latter revealing what these men knew, you could not attempt the former. Your only option was to try and sidestep both entirely.

“Please!” you gasped. “My husband! He’s—I have to help him!”

The cavalryman flinched, his attention drawn from your tack to your face. “Your… Madam, where is—”

“Please!’ you screamed, urging your horse forward. “He’s militia, he may be wounded, you must let me go!”

“Calm down, madam!” He seemed to steel himself, tilting his chin higher. “Your husband is in the militia.”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

“They’re stationed north of here, and you’re riding in from the south. Perhaps, and I don’t mean to keep you, but perhaps you can help me understand?”

He’d been disturbed by your performance, but not enough to let you go. You silenced a growl in the back of your throat and then promptly began to openly wail.

“Our home is south, I just thought he might have—” you cried, sniffling with such strength you snorted. “I’ve—I’ve just, I’ve been riding, and looking, and riding—” You choked on your own dramatics, wiping the rain from your stinging eyes as if they were tears. “And, oh, he could be hurt, please, I must find him!”

“I’m sorry, madam,” he said, a grimace flickering over his face. “Many were slaughtered here but moments ago.” He nodded toward the riverbank. Your chest squeezed as lightning revealed several dark shapes laid in a row. “I pray he is not among them.”

Deception it would have to be. But you could make this quick.

“Let me see!” You sprang forward on your horse, making for the bodies.

The soldier cursed, whipping his own mount around to follow. Some of the other soldiers began to raise their guns as you broke away from the two who had stopped you.

“Stay your arms!” the cavalryman shouted from just behind you.

They paused, casting glances among themselves, then lowered their weapons. You reined your horse in, and side-stepped up to the corpses.

The humble pastiche of militia attire stood out in the gloom, maculate with gore. That would explain Goddard’s account of the bridge’s defenses. Now, though, they stared through glass eyes at the sky, its heavens just as violent as their deliverance thereto.

Hunching over the saddle, you studied them. Mostly, it was an extension of your act. But part of you, a part that you would surely enter vicious battle with later, sagged in relief to see that none bore a red and green coat.

You straightened, turned back to the officer who had followed you.

“He’s not here!”

“Madam, how can you be s—”

“He’s not!” you shrieked.

“Christ, let’s just let her go,” said the foot soldier, puffing as he caught up.

The cavalryman's eyes widened. “Oh, well… I mean, I didn’t…” He winced. “I only mean to suggest that perhaps we can escort—” Thunder struck as he spoke, and he jumped.

“God above, you two are the only cavalry we’ve got!” said the foot soldier. “Let the woman go and get shot if she wishes!”

The cavalryman glanced with clear discomfort between the both of you—you, with your hysterical sniveling, and his fellow Continental with his disregard for their duty—and threw a hand from his reins.

You didn’t wait for his verbal permission. Your shouted thanks drowned in the downpour as you charged past them and across the bridge.

The area was swarming with men on edge and ready to kill. If—or when, you’d say when—you did find Tavington, you prayed your return would be significantly less crowded. But if the Continentals were driven back by your camp, you’d run straight into them while carrying a superior officer of the British army.

You’d worry about that later.

The road stretched on in the darkness, the river’s din fading in your wake. Again, your only company was the steady drum of rain, the steaming beast beneath you, the sharp rhythm of your own breaths in your ears.

If you couldn’t find Tavington, if the bastard had gone and gotten himself killed—

You shook your head, trying to dislodge the thoughts as they arose. But they clung like wasps to sap, shooting you through with an unwelcome fear. Strange and loathsome as it was to admit, there was no denying that Colonel Tavington had claimed a position of some vile necessity in your life. That he was the mast to which you must fasten like a sail, if the winds of this war were to ever see you reunited with your father. If that outcome were ever to exclude your father’s death. Or Grace’s. Or yours.

Something reared up within you, lodged in your throat, lashed the back of your nose like rising tears. It left you in a gritted screech, and as the wind whipped it away into the storm, you recognized it as anger.

You were angry.

At your father, for allowing his quixotic obsessions to drive him into peril. For leaving you alone, leaving you to slink like a stray dog to the British army and beg, whimpering, to crawl into its lap. You were angry at Tavington, for being right about all of that before. For seeing through you when you refused to see into yourself.

And you were angry at yourself. For clinging to the sick bulwark that was William Tavington. For not being strong enough to hate him.

For fearing that he might be dead.

Driving on through the rain at a brisk trot, you focused on the road ahead. On what you could do, rather than what might be. As you searched the dark, you spotted a body slumped along the roadside. Then another. Lightning flashed. Three more scattered the road.

Militia.

With any luck, your colonel was close. The horse stuttered for a step, hopped over one of the bodies.

Lightning again, then thunder. In the distance, movement, a single heaving shadow hunched above blackened brush, a demon rising in the dusk. Hell’s fire flickered in the clouds, suspending the earth in time. Light revealed the demon, a fiend in a crimson coat, his blade buried in blood, his victims shucked of their souls at his feet. Thunder shattered the vision, smothering him in darkness again.

Tavington ripped his sword free from the man he’d stabbed, spotting your approach. His eyes narrowed, struggling to identify you through the night and rain. You trotted closer, and now you realized that some of the crimson you’d spotted earlier hadn’t been his coat. His chest, his stomach were smothered in blood, and it became apparent that his hunch wasn’t from demonic inspiration.

He was hurt.

A flash of light, and he frowned, realizing that not only was it you, but you were on his horse. His face twisted in a welcoming mixture of shock and disgust.

You waved him forward. “Continentals are headed this way!”

“I’m aware,” he replied, sheathing his sword. When these two words didn’t magically cause you to vanish, shook his head, continuing, “I’m waiting them out.”

You snorted. “Don’t be absurd. You’re wounded—multiply so, might I add!”

“Return to camp,” he said, walking in a direction that was not toward your horse and therefore irritated you further.

There was no way you were leaving this stubborn goat of a man bleeding from God-only-knew and returning to the damned camp without him. You pushed the mare forward, cutting him off. He glared at you and spat out your name in frustration.

“Orders were given,” he said. “Leave.”

You growled. “Your men ail in your absence. You must return with me.”

His eyes met yours, mirrored the clouds as they pulsed with lightning. Water pelted his face, slipped down the curve of his nose and into the bow above his mouth. He cleaned the rain from his lips with his tongue and set his jaw.

“Must I?” He stalked forward a step. The horse shifted beneath you. “I believe you’ll find I must do nothing,” Tavington spat. “You, on the contrary, are a parolee who has fled your guard, and now act in contempt of an officer.”

The urge to roll your eyes was only suppressed by a tiny pulse of fear as he advanced another step.

“Then mete me what lashes you will,” you said, swallowing. “But I’ll drag you back before I stand by while you succumb to your own bloody pride!”

Tavington snarled, then lunged for the horse’s reins. Anticipating him, you drove one leg into her ribs. She leapt sideways. Tavington doubled over, clutching his bleeding chest, eyes as wild as a wolf with its foot in a trap.

“Colonel Tavington,” you pleaded, “we’ve little time for this.”

He gave a pained huff, straightened just enough to pierce you with his stare. “Then leave.”

“No!”

Thunder cracked the sky. Your gazes clashed with equal force. Fury rolled in Tavington’s shoulders, and you made ready to evade another lunge from him. Then, a new rumble broke through the storm.

Your heads both snapped in its direction at once. Hooves. Pounding and splashing, this time approaching from the north. You were about to be flanked on both sides by the Continental army. Tavington’s lip rose in a snarl.

“Get off,” he said, rounding on you. “I’ll ride in front.”

“What? No! Just get on!” The storm crashed above, illuminating the bright red of his jacket. “And take your coat off, you're a walking target!”

If he’d looked indignant before, he now looked insulted. “I issued you an order, and your response is—”

“Colonel, get on the damn horse!”

Up the road, a horse whinnied. Hoofbeats grew louder. Tavington cursed.

Sneering, he whipped his jacket from his shoulders and tossed it to you. With relief, you stashed it under your skirts before vacating your left stirrup and holding your hand out to him. He stared at it like you’d presented him with the body of a dead rat before electing to ignore it completely. His teeth grit, he stuck his boot in the stirrup and hoisted himself behind the saddle, a stifled grunt escaping him.

He reached around you, grasping for the reins. Scoffing, you thrust your hands out, wheeled the horse around, and gave a sharp kick. The mare surged forward, and Tavington’s arms captured your waist, sealing you flush against his front with a hiss.

In the chill of rain, his body was lit coal, firm and warm against your own. You felt the rise and fall of his chest, still hurried from the rush of violence and pain; heard the graveled depth in his throat wash against your neck with each breath.

At your speed, the bridge would be approaching quickly. Despite your hope that the Continentals might have decided to abandon it before your return, they stood proud guard. And, unfortunately, having been successfully routed, you could see even more of them arriving from the south. You slowed from a canter to a trot, and Tavington’s breath caught in your ear as his horse stumbled on the sodden ground.

“An expert in these lands and this is the route you choose,” he grumbled.

You exhaled, biting your tongue. “Well, perhaps if you were better at dodging swords, we’d enjoy the luxuries of time,” you replied. “Unless you’d prefer trying to jump the river.”

“I’d prefer not approaching a group of Continental officers while sliding off a horse’s arse.”

“Oh, are you uncomfortable?” you cooed bitterly. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience, Colonel.”

“No,” he said. “What I am is experienced. Do you imagine they’ll allow you to walk right past them?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “I have a plan.”

“Words that have always brought me comfort.”

If you weren’t concerned that elbowing him in the stomach would result in organ damage, you would’ve done it.

The horse connected with the first plank of the bridge, and you straightened in the saddle. Ahead, a wave of routed Continentals staggered up to join the bridge guard, their annealing forces pushing fifty, perhaps ten of them cavalry.

In another world, you could be nestled in your bed at home, Mr. Mouser curled at your feet, the rain rattling your roof. Instead, more horses advanced behind you, their numbers unknown, the sound of their hooves rattling your nerves. Continental soldiers flanked you front and back. And a despicable, delicious bastard was strapped to your middle.

It occurred to you that perhaps getting struck by lightning would be an improvement to this situation.

“Hold there!” The voice was familiar. The same cavalryman from before came into view between the opposite bridge posts. “State your business before crossing!”

You cleared your throat. “It’s me!” you called out. “I found my husband!”

Tavington’s hold on you tightened. “Your hus—”

“Play along,” you hissed.

“Go ahead and approach, madam,” the soldier replied.

The horse trod forward, both of you rocking with its stride. Each hoofbeat knocked in your ears. Your hands felt slippery on the reins. You thanked the blessed God above that no one would be able to tell if it was rain or sweat.

“Your plans rival those of military generals in their brilliance,” Tavington whispered.

“There won’t be an issue so long as they don’t recognize you,” you replied. “But I suppose that massive head of yours begs remembrance.”

“Ah, yes, there’s the conduct I’d long desired in a wife.”

“Wonderful,” you growled. “Now shut. Up.”

The cavalryman adjusted his horse, fully blocking your way as you arrived at the other end of the crossing. If you were to ever count on a man’s tendency to underestimate you, it would be now.

“Please, let us through,” you said. “He’s injured, I need to get him back home.”

“So he is injured?” The cavalryman gestured toward one of the men on the ground. “Corporal, go ahead and take a look at—”

“Sergeant Fleming!”

The voice came from behind you. Craning around, you glimpsed a line of cavalry that had advanced to the foot of the bridge. Scanning briefly, you counted twenty. An officer rode ahead, sealing off the way you had come. Tavington’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your belly.

The officer in front of you—Fleming, presumably—squinted past you through the rain. Then he raised a hand to hail the other horseman. “Captain Pearce! By God, you’re a sight for sore eyes, sir.”

The bridge began to knock with the rhythm of hooves crossing. Fleming, blinking as he once again noticed that you were present, shifted aside and waved you forward. Releasing a held breath, you rode past him and onto solid ground again. The road, however, was still choked with men. The corporal that Fleming had previously addressed approached your horse, moving to take her reins.

“No!” You jerked her head up and away from him, and he flinched in confusion before looking straight past you and addressing Tavington.

“Sir, we’ll have a look at your wounds here.” He stepped around toward the saddle. Both you and Tavington stiffened. “Come morning, we shall escort you back to your post.”

“Please, sir,” you said, casting your arm aside as if to shield Tavington from him. “We have supplies at home, he—”

“Would you mind telling us your name and commanding officer?” he said, again to Tavington. You blinked. “We’ll see that your wife is escorted home as well.”

Tavington shifted behind you, his voice ground between stone. “That will hardly be necessary, Corporal.”

The corporal frowned up at him. “If your wounds are too grievous, sir, perhaps leave can be approved…”

As they spoke, your attention floated to the cavalry now filing across the bridge. To the conversation between Fleming and Pearce as they met. Their voices were drowned by the rain and the river. All you could make out was what you could read on their lips.

British encampment… over three hundred… routed… don’t have the numbers for an engagement.

You squinted, studying them more closely.

…fall back… focus efforts… Camden… intelligence to General Gates… arrive next week with reinforcements…

“...Wilksburg company—”

Your attention snapped back to the corporal with a full-body jolt.

“—will be joining us in a matter of days with more militia, you’d need only hold out until then.”

The Wilksburg company? Here? But that would mean your father—

“I’m afraid my wife is rather insistent that I return home,” replied Tavington, sounding as if he were being forced to say it while dangling over a pit of eels. “You know how wives are, Corporal.”

Your teeth set.

“Indeed I do,” he said with a laugh, “However, I cannot abide desertion. We need every fit man—”

“Fit,” you spat, and the corporal looked at you with a start. “How about I cut you from stem to stern, Corporal? How fit might you feel when I’m finished, hm?”

The corporal opened his mouth, closed it again. Then found his voice under your glare. “Madam, I understand your distress—”

“You understand nothing,” you replied. “We will be going now.”

Your raised voice had drawn the attention of a few other men milling about. One of them paused, his eyes hovering on your horse, your tack, then narrowing as they raised to Tavington. Your heart leapt into your throat.

Below you, the corporal made another attempt to seize your horse’s reins. You yanked her head away from him, and a flare of waning patience threatened his face. The soldier who had stopped to regard you approached the corporal’s shoulder, leaned to whisper something in his ear. Tavington’s fingers burrowed into your hips. His mouth drifted to your ear.

“Move.”

You nudged the mare with your heels. The corporal leapt to intercept, his hand moving to the pistol at his belt. “Hold there. I’m going to need to ask you some questions, sir.”

“Go,” Tavington muttered.

“That’s him,” said another soldier.

“Go.”

“That’s Colonel Tavington!”

Tavington slammed his spurs into the horse. You squealed, launched forward.

With a crack of thunder, chaos burst like a dam. Men shouted, scrambled, sound and movement blurred in the rain. Your horse crashed through the corporal where he stood, trampling him into the mud. A voice cried somewhere above the cacophony.

“Halt! For God’s sake, halt! Stop them!”

The road was still swarming with men. Most parted like silk to scissors at the horse’s advance. Some, either too brave or too slow, fell beneath her hooves. Then the mass of men broke. The road lay ahead, a black, yawning tunnel. As if as one, you and Tavington both leaned forward, and the horse beneath you flattened out into a dead sprint.

Behind you, a rifle cracked. The rain whistled beside your ear, raising the hair on your nape. Hooves thundered in pursuit, and the demon on your back dug his claws into your hips, your belly, his breath ragged in your ear.

“You won’t outrun them,” he said.

“I know, just—” You swerved as a cavalryman advanced into your periphery, saber drawn. “Just try to stay out of the way.”

With that, you drove your shoulders back into Tavington’s chest, sinking into the saddle. He cursed, leaned back with you as the horse slid to a halt, gouging long slashes into the mud. Four cavalrymen shot past you, shouting as they wrested their mounts to a halt. Behind you, more fought their way through the thick web of foot soldiers to join the chase. But you were already moving, pivoting your horse like a dancer on her haunches and making for the cover of the trees.

Blackness swallowed you as you rode into the forest. Slowing to a trot, your eyes hunted for shapes in the dark, your legs shifting like rudders to steer around trunks as they loomed. A spear of lightning scattered shadows in your path. Behind you, brush crashed and cracked, horses squealed as they collided with trees and each other.

“Find them!” a man shouted.

Another voice: “This way!”

More grunting and shouting as men and horses alike flooded the trees, spread out in search.

You pressed straight on into the belly of the forest, slid down a steep bank, splashed through a swollen creek. The sounds of the blundering Continentals grew slowly fainter in your wake, their shouts increasingly desperate. The rain had soaked you through to your skin, and you shivered at its chill contrasted with the solar heat of the man pressed to your back.

Some delirious, danger-drunk part of your mind wondered, briefly, what he might do if you turned on the saddle and wound your legs around his waist.

You shook yourself sane. You still needed to be focusing on preventing your real deaths, instead of seeking a little one.

A glow poked through the trees. Blinking rain from your eyes, you squinted, and spied the forest’s edge silhouetted against open, stormy sky. Lightning illuminated a wide field that stretched up to a farmhouse, candlelight cradled in its windows. Your heart leapt with triumph. That meant you weren’t entirely lost in the backcountry.

You pushed into a canter again as you emerged from the forest, turning to follow along the field’s open edge. Presumably, you’d be able to find…

Yes.

A path divided the field, trailed down from the house and disappeared into the woods. Which meant the other end likely led out to the road. And if you were on this side of the road, traveling more or less parallel with it, that meant you had to be moving—

“Have you any idea where you’re going?” Tavington growled at your ear.

Your teeth locked together. “I do, in fact.”

“Oh, splendid.” You hated the way you could practically hear his eyes rolling in his skull. “Do continue to take your time, then.”

With a scoff, you thumped your heels into the horse’s sides. Then immediately regretted it when she spurted forward, forcing Tavington to seize you closer, a low grunt brushing your ear. Heat flooded your cheeks.

What had you been trying to determine?

South.

Yes, you were surely headed south. Would surely come across the camp soon. With any bloody luck, that was.

Your southward path carried you back into the forest, trees ticking past you like warped clock hands. On and on, until their shapes suddenly grew familiar. A slight left here, then curve around a thicket and ascend that ridge.

Rows of tents emerged from the darkness. You slowed the mare to a trot, bracing yourself on her neck as you arrived at the camp perimeter. If there had been danger before, it was gone now—the rain had scattered every soldier to shelter, the only evidence of the battle a brightly lit medic tent filled with bustling shadow.

Panting, you pulled to a stop, and Tavington’s hold on you loosened. Before you could turn, or even speak a word, he slid from behind you like a limp doll, dropping to the ground with questionable balance. He used the mare’s hindquarters as support, taking a deep breath before stumbling toward camp.

Your teeth ground together. If you’d ever known of a man more frustrating, you couldn’t name him. Grumbling, you threw yourself from the horse as thunder rumbled, following Tavington in a furious splashing haste.

“Colonel,” you said, “you’re injured.”

He said nothing, continuing to stalk toward his tent. The weight of water in your skirts slowed you, slapped to your skin like paste. You bunched the fabric above your knees, mud splattering your thighs as you marched after him.

“You must let me see your wounds.” When he was again silent, you continued, “At least let me check and make sure that you haven’t damaged anything vital.”

Without acknowledging anything you’d said, Tavington found his tent, whipped the flap aside, and allowed it to flutter closed between you. You stood, storm swallowing you, watching as candles flickered to life beyond the canvas. The fury you’d stomped into submission rose renewed, gnarled in your stomach, burned in your fists.

Responsibility had never been granted to you, or bestowed like a gift on your unworthy hands. You’d always encountered it, a stray on your doorstep, starving and seeking a master, and you had always, always taken it inside. Never had you been resented for discovering it. Never had you been begrudged for your charity until meeting William Tavington.

There was no way, after everything you’d done, that you’d allow him to lie down in his bed and bleed to death.

You stomped off, tromping through the rain toward the busy medic tent. You threw open the flap, greeted with a gust of warmth that would’ve been a relief if you hadn’t been halfway suffocated by the heavy fabric hanging off of you. Wounded men not occupied by pain glanced at your entrance before flopping back onto their beds. Lottie poked her head free from dressing a soldier’s abdomen and gasped in delight.

“Oh! Oh my goodness!” she cried out, waving you over. “There you are! Where have you been? I’m—we need your help over here!” She paused, scanning your sopping silhouette. “Oh, my. Where have you been?”

“Very sorry,” you said. “No time to talk right now.” You pursed your lips, trudging through the tent to find your suture kit. “Or help.”

She wilted. “But… What’s going on? Is everything all right?”

“Perfectly.” It wasn’t where you typically left it. Sighing, you turned one of the supply tables and found a pile of soaked jackets. The kit was probably under there. You started tossing the coats on the ground.

“Oh.” Lottie sucked in air through her teeth. “Ah, the mud…”

“Hm?” You continued to throw everything off the table. “Did you say ‘the mud’?”

“Um.” She paused. “Well, I wanted to perhaps prevent their—”

“There you are!” It had been buried under all that clothing. You grabbed it and gathered several bundles of bandages and lint under your arms before turning back to her. “Sorry, what was that?”

She offered a strained grin. “Nothing,” she said, before nodding toward you. “Where are you going?”

“Colonel Tavington is of a mind to die bathed in his own blood.” You turned, heading to exit the tent.

“Do you—” Lottie whinged. “Do you think you’ll be able to come back? To help? Once you’re finished?”

You nodded. “As soon as I can.”

“The colonel is all right?” called one of the men.

“If I have anything to say about it, he will be,” you called back, and darted into the rain.

You hunched over your supplies to keep them as dry as possible as you ran until you stopped at the foot of Tavington’s tent. The candle was still lit. There was no movement inside. You chewed on your lip.

“Colonel?” You waited. “Colonel Tavington?”

Lightning struck the sky, thunder followed. Why were you waiting for this bastard’s permission to save his stupid, worthless, stubborn, beautiful hide?

You flung the tent open. Tavington was laid in his bed on his back, his eyes closed, his hand on his forehead. At the sound of your entrance, a muscle in his jaw spasmed.

“Don’t bother,” you said, “I’m not leaving.”

“I believe our charade is at its end,” he said. “I require no more of your audacious excuse for aid.”

He was impossible. “Actually, I believe I am to thank for getting you here, and without further injury.”

“It was despite your rancor that we arrived here, not due to it,” he replied. “The shadow of a gallows inspires greater solace than your very name.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him.

“So hungry for lashes, are you?”

Grabbing a stool, you pulled it close to his bedside and sat down. An eye cracked open to watch you as you piled your supplies at the head of his bed.

“Sit up, Colonel.”

He stared at you.

“Please.”

A long moment passed as he held you in consideration, the rain pattering the top of the tent. Candlelight cast his face in dour shadow. He searched your expression, his focus wandering down, following your neck to your heaving chest and your eager hands, to the medical items pushed into his space. He glanced down at his stomach, rubbed his temple, and sighed.

“Very well,” he mumbled. He rolled to his side, baring his teeth as he pushed himself to sit. “Satisfied?”

You studied him. The rain had stained his shirt pink with blood, but new bright swatches bloomed since he’d laid down. It was so wet it was still transparent, still clinging to his shoulders, his arms, revealing the tightly laid muscle underneath.

It now became apparent to you that treating William Tavington would involve removing this shirt. It would involve touching parts of his body that you’d never imagined you’d actually ever get to touch. Your throat thickened, and you met his eyes.

“Yes.” You would be as composed as possible. “I need… your wounds. Access to them.”

He raised a brow. “You what?”

You shook your head. Composed. “I need access to your wounds, Colonel,” you said. “Could you remove your shirt? Or lift it.”

Tavington sat straight, pulling his shirt from his body and shoving it in your lap. You stared at it for a moment and threw it over the footboard of his bed before looking back at him. Your mouth dried.

He was so broad. His shoulders spanned wide over his powerful chest, the trunk that was his stomach. Patches of dark hair met in the center of his torso, trickled down to below the waistline of his trousers. You felt your head float for a moment before you regained control of yourself and focused.

Two. Three wounds. One was the bayonet wound from last week, which was thankfully healing fine, despite your lack of intervention. Two were new: a gash across his side and a slice underneath one of his pectorals. You could start at least with the stomach—it looked larger, more severe. Probably wouldn’t need suturing though. At least for now.

“Do you plan to stare at my wounds all evening?” he asked.

You huffed. “It’s called analysis,” you replied, as if you’d spent more time analyzing than you had staring. As you reached for the lint, your hands trembled. You inhaled in a bid to steady them.

Tavington clucked his tongue. “Losing your nerve?”

“No,” you said quickly, glaring at him. “Long evening.” Not necessarily a lie, since despite your physical response to him, he was still grating your patience. You grabbed a wad of lint and a roll of linen. “We’ll start with your stomach.”

Swallowing, you kept your attention on your hands and pressed the lint to his wound, packing it tight to soak the blood. Tavington’s abdomen tensed, he exhaled, but was otherwise stoic as you unfurled the bandage and began to wind it around his waist. You shifted to reach around his back, and as you moved, caught something colorful out of the corner of your sight. A book.

Il Principe - di Niccolò Machiavelli.

Your irritation with him vanished entirely in the wake of your curiosity. For some reason, you'd never imagined him as a reader. Nor as a speaker of more than one language. But you supposed you’d also never imagined him as an admirer of wildflowers, either. And a small bundle of those laid drying next to the book.

“You speak Italian?” You started wrapping the linen around a second time.

He sought your gaze. “Yes,” he replied, almost suspicious. “Why?”

“The Prince.” You nodded toward it. “In its original language.”

Tavington’s head tilted. You sensed him staring. “Yes.” He watched as you tore the bandage. “Italian, amongst others.”

“Which ones?”

It’d come out almost automatically. Warmth rushed your face, like you’d asked something about his sexual history rather than his linguistic one.

“Latin, French.” He paused, drawing in a slow breath as you tightened the wrapping around his stomach. “Greek.”

You huffed. “So they do teach something other than warfare at your pompous British academies.”

His lip curled, you thought, in a smirk. “I’m astonished that you even know how to read.”

“Yes,” you replied dryly, grabbing another handful of lint, “though it was difficult when all of our books were made of bark and all our pens were sharpened stones.”

“Ah,” he said. “And your schoolmasters? The wolves, I imagine?”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. Why was he making you laugh?

“The owls, actually.” You placed the lint against his chest, held it as you reached for another roll of bandage. His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, and you found yourself wanting to linger, wanting to trace your way to his heartbeat. “Much more wise.”

“They must be, to introduce you to Machiavelli.”

“That was my own idea, actually.” You grinned proudly before glancing at him.

There was a disarming lack of malice in his gaze. More heat gathered in your cheeks. You picked up the second roll of linen and held it against his chest with one hand, rolling it around his torso with the other.

“Is he less cruel in Italian?”

Tavington’s attention flicked across your face. “Cruelty is a weighty criticism often levied against pragmatics.”

“A criticism.” With every inch of skin you touched, your tongue grew drier, your belly tighter. He seemed too close, too far. “It sounds as if you take that personally.”

“Of course.” He shifted, you thought—or imagined, or hoped—closer. Tipped into the hand putting pressure on his chest. “Would you not similarly dismiss such a comparison?”

“I…”

It was difficult to think. His proximity had become dizzying. Your head felt heavy with something greater than hunger, more primal than need. But even the most ravenous part of you knew: given your scheming, bargaining, and deception together? He was right.

“I suppose I would.”

“As I suspected,” he murmured. His voice brushed the depths of his throat. “The vicious creature cannot deny its own nature.”

A shiver ran to your thighs. “You really consider me vicious.”

You brought the bandage to your teeth and tore it in two. His chest rose and fell in a quiet breath.

“Utterly.”

Finishing with the dressing, you glanced up at him. His eyes devoured you.

“Were I truly so,” you breathed, “I would sunder all I touch.”

Despite your shaking hands, racing blood, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Couldn’t even take your hand from his chest. His skin felt like a wound under your touch—raw, hot, thrumming with his pulse. You held your breath, fingers skimming over his breast until you grazed the fine, dark hair, hovered over his pounding heart.

“Yet here you are, still whole.”

“Entirely.” Tavington leaned forward. Before you could retreat, he pinned your hand with his own, holding it to his chest. “I do not fear vicious things.”

His gaze dipped to your mouth. Your chin quivered. Your fingers curled against his sternum. Someone breathed—a short, sharp intake of air, punctuated by a clap of thunder—and he tugged you toward him, capturing your lips with his own.

Desire and panic flooded you with lockstep urgency. Your head spun with the rush, thoughts running from one into the other like spools of tangling thread.

He’s kissing you your first kiss he’s your first kiss his mouth is so soft and warm more more oh God if he wants more do you even know what you’re doing—

Tavington exhaled through his nose, pulling you closer, tilting to catch your mouth at a different angle. He tasted of rain, of salt, of storm. You found courage, this time, pressing yourself into the kiss, reveling in the glide of his lips on yours, the sensation cascading like fire to your cunt. Even if you’d never done this before, you’d allow instinct, your ever reliable mentor, to guide you.

You leaned closer, and Tavington adjusted again, one of his hands snaking around your waist to draw you in. You gasped at his touch, shivering. His tongue flicked into your parted mouth, earning from you a delighted, longing groan. It was an unfamiliar sound you’d never heard yourself make. The fabric of your dress seemed now too cold, too sticky on your warming skin.

He chuckled and pinched your lower lip between his teeth, releasing it in a deliciously painful drag before soothing it with the caress of his mouth. Whimpering into him, your free hand found his shoulder to steady yourself against the speed with which the world whirled around you. Tavington growled, grappling your hips to hoist you to a new seat on his lap.

You panted, grabbing both of his shoulders as you settled, instantly feeling the growing evidence of his desire grinding against your center. It tore a moan from your chest, made your eyes flutter, made your heart skip.

Tavington busied himself with your skirts, throwing them up your thighs to expose them. Cold skin was smothered by warm palms—he squeezed, groped at each inch revealed to the air. If you hadn’t been possessed by that ravenous ache before, you certainly were now.

So possessed were you, in fact, that it didn’t even occur to you that the man you were kissing was a British soldier, that he was still hunting your father, and that he would happily place all of you at the end of a hanging rope had he the evidence and ability. All that occurred to you, really, was how firm he felt underneath you, the heat of his chest against yours, the imprint of his fingers trailing closer to the crux of your thighs.

Tavington’s grip tightened, and he kissed you again, drove your pelvis downward, bucking his own to meet it. You gasped, nearly toppling over if not for his strength keeping you upright. Like a conductor, he led you in rhythm, rolling your hips together over, and over, the bulge of his arousal sparking pleasure from the little hill at your center with each beat.

You broke away, tossing your head back with a quiet groan. Tavington’s hand caught the back of your skull and steered you back to his lips, ravenous, parting your mouth with his own. A frenzy birthed within you to match him—your tongue melted against his—and he fisted your hair, his other hand clutching your jaw to hold you in place.

It hit you, then. William Tavington had wanted you.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” you mumbled against his mouth. “You would’ve taken me at Dorchester.”

Tavington held you fast. He avoided a response while he licked his way along your jawbone. “Is that right?” His teeth found your ear, worried the lobe. “On the contrary,” he breathed, voice wrought with need. “I believe you’ve taken advantage of my vulnerability.”

Gooseflesh erupted on your arms, your thighs. “Vulnerable, are you?” You slipped your hands down his back, smoothed over the ridges of his shoulder blades, painting a memory of his body. “No longer impervious to the temptations of whorish writhing?”

He huffed, catching your gaze. “You admit to tempting me?” His eyes glittered with amusement.

You snorted. “As if your pride needs the satisfaction.”

“My, my,” he said, craning your head to expose more of your neck. His tongue, then his teeth, found your pulse. “Rather irreverent for a girl on the precipice of satisfying far more than my pride.”

The implication made your cunt clench, and you exhaled in part-laughter, part-fear. Would Colonel William Tavington—the Butcher—really be the man to whom you gave your virginity? Could he even tell you still possessed it? Perhaps your age had earned you the presumption of more experience than you truly had.

With another jerk of his hips, his erection teased your swelling, throbbing cunt, and that more than halfway convinced you that none of that mattered. The thought of being able to see, touch, feel his cock inside of you was all the promise you needed.

“You seem confident about that,” you managed to murmur. “Pride.”

A low sound rumbled in his throat. He hooked his hands under your thighs and ripped you from his lap. With a grunt, he flipped you onto his bed, following to straddle you, his legs caging yours, his palms planted on either side of your head. Bathed in the flickering fire, he resembled the beast you’d pictured so many weeks prior—heaving, hungry, salivating.

Salivating for you.

Tavington’s gaze raked over your trembling body. A hand slid up your naked calf, teasing its way toward your inner thigh. “Almost appealing like this.”

A deep pulse in your core. “You are a complete bastard.”

“I hear no protest.” He settled between your legs, and his lips found yours.

You relaxed into his dampened sheets, a soft moan escaping you, your hands coasting around his bandaged torso and around to his back. Tavington deepened the kiss, a moan of his own echoing in his chest. One of his hands pawed your breasts, kneading them from over your bodice. A thumb ghosted over your already-firm nipple, and you squealed, back arching toward him.

His tongue glided into your mouth, hips beginning to rock into you again, again. The mimicry of the movement, the reality of his erection—hard, prodding your entrance beyond the barrier of clothing—spurred you to meet his urgency and throw yourself against him.

He groaned again, trapped your pelvis to the mattress with a brutal thrust. His cock was flush with your cunt, so close you felt it pulse inside his trousers, felt it throb at the suggestion of finally breaking you open.

Lust bewitched you. Your nails dug into his back, scraped down his spine, and he shuddered, shook above you before he snatched your wrists and tacked them above your head. He broke the kiss with a gasp.

“You,” he said, staring into your bewildered eyes, “are going to regret every attempt you’ve ever made to deceive me.” He gathered both wrists in one of his hands, while his other moved to clasp your throat. “I will ruin you so completely that neither another man nor another allegiance will tempt your errant cunt again.”

Your heart tripped over itself, unable to decide if it was exhilarated or terrified. Its beat split between your chest and thighs. You remembered his promise—the next time my hand seeks out your throat, it will be to pinch the life from your eyes—but when meeting his gaze, found nothing but manic, consuming lust.

You needed to tell him that you’d never done this before.

“Colonel—”

His grip on your neck tightened. “Colonel?” He lowered himself, chest flattening you to the bed. Lips skimmed your jaw, your ear. “William.”

“Colonel?” came the word again. This time, spoken from beyond the tent.

Both of your heads swung toward the flap. Tavington pushed himself onto his knees and seized your shoulders, flinging you in one swift movement from his bed straight into the ground. You smacked the damp dirt, groaning as your head swiveled like a wind vane in a storm.

What in God’s sweet, holy, unsullied heaven just happened?

“Colonel Tavington?” The voice sounded familiar. “Are you all right, sir?”

Tavington’s brow dropped, a deep sigh of frustration escaping him as he adjusted to sitting on the edge of his mattress. “Yes, Bordon.”

The tent peeled open a foot, and Bordon peeked through, his attention falling to your still-splayed form on the ground. “Um.” He looked between you and Tavington. “Sir?”

You blinked, still trying to orient yourself. “I…” You glanced down at yourself, then back to Bordon. “Fell.”

“Yes,” Tavington said. “Just as she'd finished treating me.”

“Slipped in the mud.” You forced a laugh, clambering to your feet. “But, ah. Yes, I’m finished. Finished treating Colonel Tavington now.”

Bordon’s eyebrow raised. “Very well, madam,” he said, clearly wondering, just as you were, why you were talking so much. “May I come in, sir?”

Another long, excessive exhale left Tavington. “You’ve already availed yourself of my privacy, Captain,” he said. “Why not avail yourself of my time?”

“Of course, sir.” He stepped into the tent, around you, his arms held behind his back. “I bring a report.”

You looked to Tavington. The guttering need in his eyes had been supplanted by indignation. Your own guttering need, however, was falling from your body like snakeskin and evolving into a sheath of horror.

What had you just been doing? Kissing, nearly bedding the colonel of the army seeking to destroy you and your family’s lives? Had you been so distracted, so divorced from your goals that you’d allowed yourself to be seduced by a murderer?

The realization doused your passion like rain to a torch. This could’ve resulted in you endangering your father’s life. Endangering Grace’s life, perhaps, too.

You were not only a fool—you were a capricious fool.

Bordon had begun to speak, but you ignored it all. Clearing your throat, you gathered your supplies in your arms, dismissing the cry from between your legs to stop this nonsense.

Stupid, stupid traitorous desire. That would be the last time you’d entertain its whims, the last time you’d allow it to rule your mind.

“Ah,” Tavington chided. “I believe we had one more matter of business.”

You scurried between them both and glanced back at him a final time. “No matters,” you replied, a bit too quickly. Straightening, you continued, “I’ve done all I can for you, sir. In fact, I need to leave. My responsibilities would see me to the medic tent.”

Tavington’s mouth twisted in a tiny, confused frown.

You bowed your head toward them both. “Captain. Colonel. Goodnight.”

The rain smacked your skin as you escaped into the night. There was no undoing what you’d done, but you needed to refocus. The medic tent was still lit. Perhaps Lottie still needed help. Perhaps you’d start there.

#william tavington #colonel tavington #colonel william tavington #jason isaacs #the patriot #fanfiction problems #playing soldier #writing this chapter made me have serious issues functioning in life

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karltface · 10 days ago

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Well, I just turned 42. I'm celebrating by reviewing a toy. Specifically, I'm solving a 20-year mystery.

Behold, Mutant Spawn. At a size and image quality we didn't have at the time. I loved me some monsters even then, but this never appeared in my area. I puzzled over this photo again and again, trying to parse what I was even looking at. Why is the armor vomiting his face? Why is there half a bear trap hanging off his kidneys? And bug wings?

Not that I was looking very hard, but this had bothered me ever since. This year, I pulled the trigger. And boy howdy, was it cheap.

Okay then. The card only makes things more confusing. Somehow Spawn (or an alternate timeline version thereof) has become a "dual being", a poisonous (and deadly!) predator that poses as a harmless bug to trick evildoers. I guess this is post-Armageddon, then. Let's do this.

Ah... hmm. I'm enamored with the way that head just sort of oozes out and dangles. It wobbles around a lot too, which is doubly hilarious. What I took to be a serrated metal jaw is in fact a textured, fairly smooth... Well, a friend of mine said it looks like an... adult swing. The four tongues lolling out of the mouth don't help, nor does the spiky toilet bowl collar. The jaws (and mechanical blade-tentacles, boasting a whopping two hinge joints each), are blatantly pegged into a plain black hinge jutting from the sternum.

Articulation is minimal: swivel hips and shoulders, and the head can stand at half-mast if you wedge it up there real good, but no turning it at all. It also retracts into the armor. The aforementioned tentacles have their hinges, as does the tail- which is just another tentacle. On another obvious hinge. The jaw can actually hinge all the way up over the head.

The hands have holes for accessories, but none are present. The holes are the super tiny kind, too, which makes 'em pretty useless, eh? Not sure what might have been planned there, really. He could probably carry the original Spawn's nail-board, though.

Now, "mutant" I get. "Spawn", sure. There'd already been a few odd permutations. But I'm not sure how much of this thing is even organic. All that red and black mostly has the pebbly texture of the chunky armor bits Al was rocking at the time, but there are several portions- the forearms and torso, chiefly- that are purely mechanical, with a stylized endoskeleton look.

In fact, if you lift the bug wings (and we'll touch on those momentarily), the only recognizably organic parts are the head and this hideous lump of alien-looking meat. Almost as if this is just a suit construct housing the little undead tentacle monster that used to be Spawn. The lump is actually soft rubber, and kind of fun to touch.

The wings are a point of contention here. Boxed, mine had them mounted on the forearms. Fortunately, there are holes on the back that will let them rest against the back, where they nestle snugly over Mutant Spawn's apparent mutant slug butt. Some shipments had four wings, but I didn't get that lucky. They were reused for Manga Violator, which is surely even cheaper, but I don't even want half of that thing clogging the parts bin. I'm fine with just rear ones for now.*

And now, the harmless looking insect-like creature. A golf cart sized cyber bulldog with rhino skin, bug wings and a bladed tail. And two shorter bladed tails. "Harmless". The future must be pretty bad if this doesn't set off alarm bells anymore.

A bit of research tells me this started life as Chameleon Spawn. When color-changing paint didn't cost out, they reworked a few small touches and released it this way. And also with four wings. And later, with four organic bendy tentacles, and blue patches on the armor. There may have been a solid silver version too.

And with that, I think I can officially proclaim this the Worst Trainwreck in the original Spawn line. Everything from the design to the engineering, from the odd variants to the terribly vague (and yet oddly specific) backstory, stumbles across the finish line sideways with drinks in hand. Sculpt and Paint did their best with the ingredients they were given (apparently you can polish a turd), but garbage in, garbage out.

Well, that's my bit. And remember, kids: always research before you buy. If you can't find more than one source, nobody else wanted it either.

* I had ordered the four-tentacled one, but there was a mixup. The seller didn't even want this back, so it's getting harvested for wings when that shows up, and this uniquely awful piece will take it's place on the shelf.

#90s toys #mcfarlane #monsters #spawn #toys

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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 7 months ago

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Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 12 Summary:

Healing takes time and Joel has been making sure that you have tons of it. However, when something goes bump in the night, the bubble of security that he has carefully constructed pops. With the cabin out of the question, where will the two of you go? Fearing the two of you being stuck in the frozen wasteland, Joel wants to stay but you need to leave the place that's been trying to kill you for the majority of your life.

Warnings: Past Trauma, Healing From Some Pretty Intense Injuries, Joel and Reader Need a Hug, Soft!Joel, Arguments, Joel is a Nervous Wreck, Angst, Fluff, Confessions, Smut.

A/N:

Hello y'all! Sorry this update took me so long, I've been in Spain and then got lost - ended up spending a solid week in Albania but that's besides the point.

We are back! This chapter is all about healing, in every sense of the word. Joel is scared of losing you but you need to leave your childhood home. Mentions of the injuries that Joel and you have, as well as an attempt on Joel's life. Also, because both of you are feral for each other despite the injuries - SMUT!!! Although, there is a bit of awkwardness and self consciousness given both of your vulnerable states but the you work it out. Enjoy!

Chapter 12/20

Chapter 12: Healing & Hope

The next few days spent in your old home were awkward, to say the least. Joel’s instincts were in overdrive, making him spiral anytime you so much as moved a muscle. He spent his days coddling you, forcing medicine and food down your throat before he swiftly tucked you back into bed.

There were times when he would slip in beside you, holding you in his arms until you drifted off, but rarely did you wake up to him still in the room. It seemed like he was constantly finding reason to be out of the house, despite the fact that you were the only two in town. The memory of him distancing himself after you first met was fresh in your mind, leading you to believe that there was something that he was afraid of, something that you would have to tease out of him before he exploded.

His sleep had slightly improved, but you knew that he only slept as much as he needed to in order to keep going. It was worrisome watching Joel bend over backwards to care for you, especially since he himself was battered and bruised. Although, he was either a skilled actor or used to getting banged up pretty badly because the man showed nearly no sign of slowing down aside from the occasional grunt of pain.

The need to care for his injured mate was understandable, given the severity of some of your bruises. The first time Joel had managed to get the old generator going in the basement, he had helped you limp down the hall to fully wash the ash and dried blood from your body. After several discombobulated attempts to disrobe, he carefully undressed you in front of the long mirror that hung on the back of the door.

Shock didn’t even begin to cover what you felt at the sight of the bruises. The skin stretched over your ribs was a kaleidoscope of purples, blues, greens, and blacks. The bruising on your chest was extensive, spanning from your navel all the way to the handprints on your neck. Aside from that, there were small burn marks along the backs of your calves where the skin had been brushed by the flames. Staring into the mirror, a wave of nausea washed over you at the sight of all the damage.

It was only when Joel heard the beginnings of a muffled cry that his head had snapped up. Looking between the mirror and you, he had sighed and kissed at the backs of your teary eyes. You whimpered at the contact, scared of what he was going to say about the injuries. Although he was trying his best to hide it, you knew Joel was still angry with you over the attempt at self sacrifice but the fear of his rejection at such a vulnerable time was too much to bear.

“I’m so ugly,” you finally said, your voice barely a whisper as he lovingly doted upon you.

“Hush now honey, don’t say that. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, honest,” Joel cooed, thick fingers cupping the back of your neck and pressing into the tense muscles until they relaxed.

You sniffed and shook your head, “Look at me. That’s a fucking lie and you know it. You’re only saying that because you have to.”

Joel vehemently shook his head. The lines in his forehead deepened while his big brown eyes were swimming in grief at the notion of him lying about such a thing. Two enormous hands cupped your face, softly brushing at your cheeks as Joel’s gaze turned buttery and sweet. It was insane how easily him looking at you could affect your mood. He looked at you like you were the air he breathed, like he would pull the stars from the sky just to see you smile, like he would tear off his own skin to keep you warm. It was intense but you relished it and you missed it desperately.

“I ain’t ever found no one as beautiful as you baby, that’s the god honest truth,” he paused, “Now, I know you’re upset about the bruises but they’ll go away. Just let me take care of ya and you’ll be back to your regular self in no time, I promise.”

You weren’t sure about “regular self”. The person you were before you left the cabin, or even the slightly more feral person you were in the time before Joel found you outside the chapel, was gone. The experience had reduced you to nothing more than Joel’s patient. There was no autonomy anymore. If you wanted to get up to walk around or even simply go to the bathroom, he had to help you.

Of course, he was more than happy to, nearly falling over at the chance to provide for you in any way, but it grated upon you to be unable to complete mundane tasks without his help. The first time Joel had tried to squeeze into the small bathroom down the hall while you peed, you had to basically shove him out into the hallway to retain a small semblance of dignity. Even still, you had felt his presence inches from the door the entire time. Which, given the fact that you clung to him like a koala for most of the day, you didn’t mind but you were still wary of him being involved in your time in bathroom tasks.

While your body slowly mended itself, your self confidence remained low. Whether it be from a nightmare, a flash of an uncomfortable memory, or simply finding Joel missing from his side of the bed when you woke, the tears that forced their way out of your eyes were a constant reminder that everything was in fact, not fine. Joel took it like a champ, either comforting or distracting you until the storm passed, but you constantly worried about how tiring it must be for him to have to disable so many ticking time bombs each day.

When Joel had eased you into the first tepid pool of soapy water, careful not to let your shaky legs sweep out from under you, it was supposed to be a peaceful moment. Or at least he had tried his best to market it as such when he pulled you from the confines of your bed. He had managed to find some expired yet salvageable bubbles amongst the remainder of your mother’s things but after he soothed your tears about your bruises, you couldn’t stand the small separation of the cream colored acrylic wall.

Over and over, Joel had tried to assure you that it was okay to be separated by the walls of the tub and that he would help you wash from mere inches away. He insisted he wasn’t going anywhere, but it didn’t help. After more tears and unintelligible pleas, you finally convinced him to get into the water.

With a dramatic sigh, Joel began to undress. He had tried to hide the worst from you, turning to the side so that the view of his back and left side of his body was obscured, but you clocked the damage immediately. The fact that Joel thought he could hide it from you was ridiculous. As if you wouldn’t notice the damage on the body that you had mapped out countless times before.

Angry bruises covered one side of his body, as did his back. There were other bruises here and there, like the ones on his face that had quickly faded into an increasingly lighter shade of green or the more tender spots on the back of his head or neck, but his spine and side had suffered the greatest. His injuries were almost as bad as your own, making guilt bubble up from deep within your soul for allowing him to baby you for days on end.

“Baby,” you gasped with fresh tears already forming.

Joel shook his head, looking almost bashful as he stepped into the tub. With a groan, he slowly lowered himself down into the water. The space was smaller than the cast iron beauty waiting back at the cabin, forcing Joel to bend his knees in order to fit behind you, but he made it work. He didn’t say anything about your reaction, just slowly began to scrub the filth caked onto your skin.

His eyes met yours when you turned, making you smile despite the grumpiness that darkened his features. For a second, you didn’t know exactly what to say to him. If you tried to apologize or barter with him about him taking time to rest, he would be quick to shoo you away. Nevertheless, the pink that dusted his cheekbones from you simply looking at his nude form needed to be addressed.

“You’re pretty too Joel. They’ll go away and you’ll be back to your regular self. Maybe even a bit sooner if you stopped to rest every now and again,” you murmured, reaching your good hand back to scratch at the overgrown beard he was sporting.

The soft pink that glowed over the highs of his cheekbones and the tips of his ears darkened, making Joel appear almost boyish as he tried to muscle down his reaction to your flattery. He shook his head quickly, trying to urge you back into position but you stopped him. Joel Miller was not one for compliments, you understood that, but you needed him to hear this.

“I’m serious, baby. They’re rough lookin’ right now but with some rest, they’ll heal pretty quickly. You’ll be back to smoking hot in no time. Well, I mean you’re smoking hot now but maybe in just a less wounded warrior type of way and more in your usual rugged southerner sort of way, ya know,” you joked.

A soft chuckle from him had made you smile, accompanied by a stern yet playfully gruff plea of, “Would you shut up and let me finish please.”

Having Joel joke around and allow you to push his buttons made you feel some sense of normalcy, despite the circumstance. Given everything that had happened in the past week, you called the chuckle a win. It had even deluded you into thinking he might begin to soften, maybe even stay in bed with you for the entire night sometime soon, but you were mistaken. Instead, every night Joel tucked himself behind you for a couple hours until he was sure that you were in a deep sleep, then he ran off to do whatever it was he did at night. It was maddening.

With every day, you were building up strength piece by piece but still weren’t strong enough to follow him outside for extended periods of times. After the bath you had taken with Joel, it took another day for you to even limp to the bathroom without his help. Simply throwing on a coat and following him out into the frosty air was out of the question, especially with the snow that had accumulated during your stay. Trudging for long periods of time through the frozen mess was simply not feasible for the both of you.

Nevertheless, your mobility was challenged on the tenth night spent at your childhood home when three shots rang out in the stillness of the brisk air. Bewildered as you tried to figure out whether the noise had simply bled into real life from your dreams or not, you looked around for a possible source. When Joel wasn’t at your side, your heart clenched and you waited a few seconds until a fourth shot burst through one of the windows in the front of the house.

Before another could ring out, you quickly jumped from the bed, injuries be damned. It wasn’t that you couldn’t feel the aches in your bones, it was the fact that Joel wasn’t beside you that had a sense of urgency bubbling up from within. The fear of losing him was beginning to feel like some sick joke, with the same shit seeming to unfold in front of you time after time to keep the two of you apart. A lump formed in your throat as you neared the front door. If Joel was taken by someone again, you weren’t sure it was in the cards for you to chase after him.

Carefully, you pushed open the door in time to see Joel standing in the snow with a gun in his hand. He was dressed in just his dark jeans and a coat, his shirt having been abandoned when he slipped into bed earlier that evening. Looking down, you noticed the boots he wore were undone and numbly wondered if the snow leaking through the tongues of them were freezing his sockless toes.

The wind howled through the street, kicking up the most recent layer of flurries so that they danced around his figure as he squinted into the distance. Despite the fact that he never wore them unless it was necessary, you could tell he had been missing the chunky glasses that had a permanent spot on his bedside table. Joel’s nose scrunched up as he strained to see further into the night and you had to fight the urge to tell him how cute he looked. Now was not the time.

“Joel? Baby? What are you doing?,” you called out to him.

His body turned instantly, mouth opening to respond before he was cut off by another shot. The bullet whizzed right past him, tearing through the air where he had been standing just moments before. You screamed, covering your mouth with both hands as he whirled around and lifted the gun with practiced ease.

Time slowed down as you stumbled out of the house, ignoring the way the snow bit at your feet as you trudged towards him. A voice yelled something in the distance before it was cut off, Joel’s bullet tearing through whoever it belonged to. Another shot whizzed past your head but he was too quick, his movements smooth as he shifted his stance and fired once more. After his last shot, silence blanketed the entirety of the area. Nothing but the sound of the wind and your quiet huffs of exertion filled the night.

“Joel,” you called again.

He didn’t answer, too busy staring off into the night in search of any other possible enemies. It was like you weren’t even there with his mind too scattered at the thought of an unknown threat lurking in the shadows. When Joel’s soured scent drifted over to you across the icy terrain, you began to walk faster.

The moment that first bullet missed Joel by a fraction of a second, it was like you had come to life once more. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, narrowing your focus to him and only him. If he was out here fighting, there was no way you would let him fight on his own. To lose him again and to admit defeat after surviving so much was unthinkable.

Joel turned to you just as you reached him, swearing as he stuffed the gun down into his pants and quickly lifted you from the frozen ground. After gathering you in his arms, he practically sprinted back into the house.

You tried to protest, first to his manhandling and then to his scolding but it was like talking to a brick wall. He rambled on about the cold, your safety, the need for rest, declaring that anything other than sleep was simply not in the cards for you. As Joel carried you towards the bedroom, you grew increasingly irritated until you finally snapped.

“Joel! Can you stop talking for two seconds and put me the fuck down?!,” you demanded.

He stopped in place, looking down at you with a strange expression before he marched into the bedroom. Despite your weak escape attempts, Joel dumped you onto the bed without breaking a sweat. You flopped back against the old mattress with a groan, your wrapped wrist aching from the way it smacked against the bedside table. By the time you managed to slowly prop yourself up again, Joel had already begun to leave without any explanation. That pissed you off even more.

“HEY!,” you shouted.

The muscles in his back tightened at the tone of your voice, shoulders rising in defense as he whirled back around. His face was crumpled in a scowl. Heavy eye bags easily complimented the brooding look that sharpened his features. Joel waited, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocked his eyebrow along with his hip. His stance was a dare to try him on his previous statements, as if he didn’t already know that you would fight him on it.

“Are you just not going to say anything? What the fuck was that? Who are those people?,” you asked incredulously.

The hinge of Joel’s jaw worked hard as he ground his back molars into nubs. You resisted the urge to wince, knowing that a migraine would be gathering in his skull from the tension. However, if he thought that HE was frustrated, you were practically breathing fire as he stood before you in complete silence. Exasperated, you threw your hands up in the air and waited for any sign that Joel was even listening.

He cleared his throat, “Just some stragglers passing through, wanted some supplies and things got sticky. S’all it is honey.”

You scoffed.

Joel was lying. It was as clear as day to you. From the moment he had found you stuffing his expired chocolate in your mouth by the handful, Joel’s eyes were constantly trained on you. It only got worse after you were mated, with him suddenly given the free pass to gawk as much as he liked.

The fact that he stared at you so openly and so frequently meant that you were keenly aware of when he was looking elsewhere. As you stood before him, those beautiful eyes that held you so softly in their gaze were looking anywhere but towards you. There was not a single doubt in your mind that Joel was lying.

“Tell me the truth.”

He sucked his teeth, “That IS the truth.”

“Then why are you itchin to go out there and check?” you grilled him.

The awkward silence that filled the space after the question spoke volumes. Caught red handed, Joel shuffled his feet and looked out the window instead of meeting your eye. The silence stretched on and anger bubbled up from deep inside of you, soon morphing into hot tears of frustration.

When Joel finally glanced at you from the periphery of his vision, he winced and marched towards your bedside. He tried to soothe you, with one of his hands coming up to brush off the moisture that rolled down your cheeks, but you slapped it away.

“Stop it! No! Tell me what the fuck is going on right now!,” you yelled at him.

Joel paused, hand falling to hang limp at his side as he tried and failed to think of another lie. You watched as he brainstormed some elaborate fib that would make up for his erratic behavior and shooting a stranger in the street.

“If you lie to me again, I will walk out of this house and straight into the woods myself. If there’s really nothing out there, then I have nothing to worry about. Right?,” you warned him.

He sucked in a breath, his eyes finally meeting yours in a fiery battle for dominance as both of you waited for the other one to crack under the pressure. To your amusement and his dismay, it was Joel that broke first.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” he snapped, his tone accusatory while his eyes were pleading with you to not go through with the threat.

Squaring your shoulders, you smiled, “I think we both know that I fucking would. Now, how about you tell your mate what the fuck is going on before she goes out there to deal with it herself, hm?”

He glared at you, his eyes growing dark at the thought of it. You matched his energy, squaring your shoulders too so that you could glare back at him properly. After a few moments of this, he broke again. He had no other choice.

“The night after I found ya, it was real quiet. But after that, they started coming. At first it was just two, then the next day three, then nobody for two days after you woke up, then five since then, they just keep coming,” he explained.

“Who are they? What do they want?”

Joel scratched at the back of his neck, “Uh, well… Darling, I know you haven’t said much about the church but I assume Paul is a goner.”

You scowled at the reminder of the person you were actively trying to not to think about. His hands were still imprinted around your neck in varying hues, making you unable to forget about him despite your best attempts. Even without the handprints, Paul’s presence was like a poison that seeped into everything from dreams to the vague feeling of awkwardness when Joel’s hand accidentally brushed past one of your injuries.

“And I mean, that’s great! That’s a uh… Well, m’glad you got to do that,” he offered, scrambling to save the conversation before you got even more upset.

The urge to roll your eyes was strong. Of course you knew that Joel wouldn’t be particularly upset about the killing aspect of your rescue mission, his ledger was likely ten times redder than yours. Still, you held back. The reassurance was sort of sweet, although it was slightly awkward and forced.

“Okay, so I killed him and a lot of other people. So what?” you chuckled.

It was amusing to witness his attempts at accepting your murder spree, especially its main star. Of course, Joel was no one to judge when it came to killing so you knew it wasn’t necessarily judgment per se but you could see his discomfort in the notion of you having to protect yourself. There was some innate part of Joel that was convinced that he had to be responsible for every part of your security that was likely telling him that he was bad for not being able to provide.

“Uh, so those people he was with clearly liked him enough to follow him. And those people well, I mean, they had people too so… Let’s just say, you’ve got some fans darling,” Joel said.

In the quest to save Joel, and later yourself, you had never once considered that these assholes might have had people that actually cared about them. Given the general pigheadedness of the group, that seemed a bit ridiculous. Who would care for these assholes? Other assholes probably, you thought to yourself.

“What do they want? Me?,” you questioned.

He nodded, “Me too. I sorta, well I mean, I had help but I maybe had a bit of a prison break with some friends of yours. They let the prisoners out and then a horde came. The whole place went down in minutes so they aren’t fans of me either honey.”

You smiled weakly, giving a shaky thumbs up as you said, “Perfect match then.”

Joel laughed, some of the tension dissipating as he murmured back, “The perfect-est.”

The corny sentiment made you chuckle alongside him for a moment before the air grew tense as the laughter tapered off into silence. Just then, a thought struck you.

“Wait… What friends? You said you talked to Cooper, did you see anybody else?”

Joel nodded solemnly, sighing as he moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the edge, close enough that he could grab your hands with his own. Joel kissed the backs of them softly before he squeezed them and began the story.

He told you everything, from being knocked out at the river, to meeting Jake and being comforted by the similarities you shared, to his first round in the arena. You tried to imagine how he managed to survive that place, with the constant killing and despair but came up empty. The story itself was heart wrenching however, when he began to explain his last stint in the pit you were shocked to hear who he had met there.

“My… My fucking mom was there?,” you asked.

“Yeah, she… She was there for a while, I think he might’ve had her this whole time. I don’t know really, she didn’t talk much about anything except for making me mind my manners. Don’t think she liked me much, but she was asking about ya,” Joel stammered.

She had asked about you? The thought of her doing such a thing was so bizarre that you would have laughed if it wasn’t all so damned depressing. From the moment your father died, she had been nothing but diminishing and controlling. Constantly monitoring your every move and change in behavior, while allowing herself to become a shell of what she once was; she was everything you hoped to never be. And she had asked about you.

Rich, you thought to yourself.

You could still feel the pinches she gave to the softer parts of your body as they grew, reminding you of every way in which you should change to acquire a worthy mate. The feeling of her slapping your face if you asked a question too risque was still fresh, along with the pain of being the only teen not allowed to socialize with the others.

“Did you kill her?,” you asked casually.

Joel guffawed, “What? No! Of course not. Jesus fucking Christ, I wouldn’t do that to ya baby.”

Absent-mindedly, you shrugged, “If it was between seeing you again or killing your mom, I’d probably kill your mom.”

His mouth popped open. The surprise on his face was palpable as violently shook his head, like he was trying to erase your statement from his memory altogether. Finally Joel stopped, pausing before he laughed.

“I just - fuck - you know what? I’m not even gonna go there with you right now honey because she’s been dead for damn near 30 years. Just know, I didn’t kill your mama. I just seen her there and we got out together. S’all I’m tryna say,” he replied.

For the year that you were on the run, followed up by the time at the cabin, you had believed that your mother was dead. A part of you had mourned the mother that you had as a child but there was a larger part that knew that the woman that slow danced with your father in the kitchen by night and ruled the courtroom by day was gone. She had died upon the death of her mate, only to be replaced by a ghost that haunted all of the most memorable years of your life.

“What did you think of her?”

The question came out of your mouth before you could stop it. Dread filled your chest, making it heavy as you kicked yourself for asking it. She was a hard woman with a sharp tongue that could make the most lively flowers wilt in her presence. To ask Joel what he thought was basically asking him to lie to his mate about her mother, it wasn’t fair.

“She’s uh… Interesting. Very headstrong and opinionated but I could tell she had been through uh, well it looked like they had put her through a lot,” Joel explained nervously.

You scooted closer to him, “Put her through a lot? Like Jake? Did they beat her too?”

He shook his head, a dark look coming over his face as he tried to think of the right words. It didn’t matter, you knew what the answer was before he said it. Unfortunately, knowing did nothing to ease the sting of hearing it.

“They had the arena for us but for the omegas, they had a separate place to… Well, to use em how they please. That’s where they had her. She was pretty banged up when I saw her but she got out with us. I left her with Jake and Cooper. Gave ‘em instructions on how to get to Jackson.”

Dread filled your gut, weighing it down until bile rose in your throat. Despite the psychological torture and neglect she had subjected you to, there was no part of you that would have wished that on her. Or anyone, for that matter. If you could, you’d raise Paul from the dead just to kill him again for shoving her in some shoddy brothel filled with other poor souls.

“I’m sorry. I needed to get here, I couldn’t bring her with me. Or any of them. All of them were banged up. Jake had just got his pup back and there was NO WAY Cooper was going to leave his family. I had to leave them so I could get to ya baby, m’sorry,” he babbled.

You shook your head, “No, no, you did the right thing. She’ll be… I don’t know, alive I guess. Probably not fine but… she’s alive so that’s… yeah.”

Joel squeezed your hand and you uncrossed your legs, scooching over until you could lean your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss onto the crown of your head as you snuggled into his chest. The room was quiet again as you melted into his firm body, allowing the heat of it to soothe your anxious thoughts.

“So, what now? We have to get out of here, right? They are just gonna keep coming if they’re anything like Paul,” you asked.

He sighed, “Yeah, I’ve been trying to prolong our stay a bit.”

“Why? This place sucks, I don’t want to stay here. Why can’t we just go home? We could take some supplies and the car and just-”

Joel interjected, “That wouldn’t work though darling. These men know ‘bout our place. We need to wait a bit, just until this blows over and then we’ll go back. Might be some time before that happens, but we’ll make this place home for now.”

“Ok, fine. No going home, got it, but we have to get out of here. We can’t keep fighting them off, I’m too weak and you are only one person. We need to go, don’t you see that?,” you insisted.

An exasperated sigh came from him, making you roll your eyes at the rebuttal he had before it even came. The sight of your annoyance made him scowl.

“And where, pray tell, do you propose we go? Do you have any idea what’s out there?” Joel snarled.

You guffawed, “Do I fucking know what’s out here? HA! Last time I checked, I was the one who DIDN’T get kidnapped. I was the one that took down the majority of Paul’s alphas ALONE, while you sat in a cell. I was the one that directed the horde towards the camp. And I was the one that killed Paul. Not you, me.”

The second the harsh words reached their target you regretted them. Joel’s face dropped and guilt thickened the lining of your throat, as you were sure they were pulling at his heart strings. You knew that what you said wasn’t fair, but the babying was beginning to feel like belittlement. His nostrils flared as he glowered at you, the fury on his face almost covering the hurt that lingered in his eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way baby but that don’t change nothing,” he said, his southern twang coming out and slurring his words together.

Joel clicked his tongue and met your gaze as he hissed, “You ain’t going nowhere ‘till I know that it’s safe and that’s all there is to it honey.”

You resisted the urge to back down at the sound of your alpha’s command. Shoving down the biological instincts that typically ruled your kind, you gave him the most withering look you could muster.

“What are you going to do? Tie me to the bed like some kept omega? Let me out for special occasions? Because if that’s your plan, that sucks and I won’t be partaking in it. Thanks anyways though,” you said, the sass evident in your voice as you glared at him.

Joel groaned, “Could you just listen to me? For once?! If you have a better idea, then fucking say it but if not, we stay. It’s as simple as that. I ain’t dragging your beaten up ass, or mine, out of here just to freeze to death. We live for eachother, we already agreed on it.”

The urge to argue with him was strong but you shoved it down as tears brewed in the corners of your eyes. The reminder of the promise, along with the realization that the both of you had nowhere to go forced a terrified whimper from your lips. Any fallacies you had dreamt up about returning to your shared home for a lifetime of peace during the past few days were dashed in an instant.

The walls began to feel like they were closing in. Your rib cage suddenly tightened around your lungs as they tried to suck in air, making your heart begin to pound in your chest hard. Paul was dead. He was dead and Joel was right in front of you. Those two facts had become your mantra and you repeated them over and over in hopes that your body would begin to believe them.

“We need to leave here but we can’t get out - oh my fuck god, Joel! We can’t stay here,” you said through shaky breaths.

Joel straightened up, turning so that he could pluck your head from his shoulder. You whined but it was cut off when he manhandled you so that you were in his lap facing him. The look on his face was loving, yet slightly crumpled along the edges with exhaustion.

He needed sleep and you needed him to be at your side. Neither of these tasks could be accomplished in the mausoleum of a house. Every moment within its haunted halls felt as though it sucked another year off of your time sheet and Joel was growing more anxious at your moods. He could sense the storm that was brewing and it had taken a while but finally, you had broken down.

“I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean what I said at all, I swear. This place, it’s just…” you cried.

He sighed and nodded, “I understand darling. S’okay, we’re okay.”

Joel’s hand came up, brushing the hair from your face before he dug his fingers into the mussed strands to scratch at your scalp. His other hand reached forward snake under your shirt, rubbing careful circles into your hip until you hummed and slouched into him. Diving face first into his chest, you rubbed your face across his pecs before you moved to snuffle at his neck.

It was obvious that he was trying to distract you so he could go back to whatever task he had given himself. The way Joel so carefully eased all the stress from your muscles, pulling you into a meditative state, was down to a science at this point. In seconds, you were a pile of goo but two could play at that game.

With the softest pressure possible, you moved your face to start a loving trail up and down the column of throat. Kissing all the way down to the collar of his jacket before making your way back up to his mark, you made sure to give extra attention to the sensitive area each time. When Joel finally groaned, releasing all the pent up stress from his body in a long sigh, you knew you had him.

“Baby, we can’t stay here. We gotta go. Maybe not to the cabin, but they are just going to keep coming until they get what they want. You can’t stay awake forever,” you murmured against the warm spot under his ear, breathing in his spicy aroma as you nibbled on the skin.

“Fuck baby, I uh… Well, we can’t. You just got up and moving, I’m not ready to risk you out there in the - shiiit,” he shakily replied, stopping again when you bit down with more pressure.

Despite your best attempts at keeping everything innocent and loving, you couldn’t help the way warmth gathered in your core at the sound of his strained panting. With the bruises and aches still present throughout your body, Joel’s touch had remained completely PG. If you were a stronger woman, perhaps that would have been fine. After all, you had almost died just a week earlier. However, as it turns out, even a near death experience and multiple unhealed injuries couldn’t stop you from wanting to jump his bones.

The tension in the room rose as you bit him again, this time directly over the mark you made on him. The pressure made him groan almost pornographically, his hips jolting subconsciously beneath you. The air grew hotter with each moment, sweat gathering in between your bodies until your mouth was torn from the hollow of his throat.

Joel’s eyes were blown wide, with the brown pools shrunk into small slivers around an ocean of black. His gaze was fiery, a combination of lingering anger and sexual frustration reddening the highs of his cheeks. Nevertheless, the bulge that poked against your ass with every slight shift of the hips made it hard to take him seriously.

“The hell are you doing?” he snapped.

The words started off harsh but turned breathy near the end as you rolled your hips against him. When none of your injuries protested at the movement, you ground down harder, pulling a curse from Joel’s pursed lips as he moved to still your movements. With a pained voice, he tried desperately to reason with you.

“Baby, we can’t do that right now. There’s still a lot to talk about and you aren’t in the right shape to be - ha, oh my f-”

The fire between your legs was muddying your thoughts, making you desperate for him as you ripped his hands from your hips and laced your fingers with his. While Joel tried hopelessly to keep his tone steady, you swiveled until the fly in his crotch rubbed against your throbbing clit. Slick poured from your entrance, dampening the fabric of your panties and creating a wet spot on his pants as he panted beneath you.

“You spend all day trying to distract me, trying to care for me without letting me ask questions because you think it might upset me,” you moaned as his cock twitched against the seam of his jeans, “Now when I actually want you to distract me, suddenly it’s time to talk?”

The condescending tone in your voice riled Joel up, you could see it in the way his hips lifted absentmindedly to chase the warmth of your covered core. Your scent mixed with his in the air, driving the both of you crazy as the room grew hotter and hotter. Just as it felt like you might have won, with Joel’s face beet red and his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, you were gasping as he flipped the both of you over.

“No,” he barked.

And just like that, the bubble that had surrounded the two of you popped. All that was left was the way your ears rang from the coldness in his voice. Every bit of self consciousness returned with a fervor, making you whimper beneath him as he glared down at you. The tears started to fall in fat globs, leaving wet trails down your face and dampening the sheets.

Of course Joel wouldn’t want you. With the bruises discoloring your skin and your sudden need to always be around him, he was probably sickened. You choked on the realization that he wasn’t attracted to you like this. It was so stupid, Joel would be back to fucking you once you were healed. And logically, you knew that he was just trying to be gentlemanly and care for his injured mate but it didn’t matter. There was no logic to be had when it came to a jilted lover.

It was the way Joel reacted that felt like a rejection. The feeling of rejection was not unusual for you, but this was different. Fears about him thinking you were ugly, about him not wanting to touch you in fear that any remanence of the other alpha remained, about him never being able to bring himself to be intimate with you again because of everything, all clouded any rationality that remained.

“Hey, no sweet girl, hush. We just - I can’t… I just really think that in your state, it’s not a good idea but maybe we could…” he stopped, his face getting even redder than before.

You sniffed, wiping the snot and tears from your face until you looked semi presentable once more. Joel smiled as your vision cleared, cooing as you nuzzled the hand that wiped off the remaining mess. He let you breathe for a moment, waiting patiently for you to come back from the spiral as he continued to brush his hands over your skin as lovingly as he could.

“We could?,” you finally ventured quietly.

He paused and swallowed, eyes flitting to stare at the baggy shirt he had dressed you in. Blush spread out from his cheeks, reddening the tops of his ears and splotching down the side of his neck. Joel coughed, clearing his throat gruffly before he looked back at you.

“Listen darling, m’not so keen on being with you like that when you’re hurt. It makes me feel like… I just don’t want you in pain, okay? If I hurt you ever, it would just kill me,” he admitted.

You sighed petulantly, “Joel, you aren’t going to hurt me. I feel better than I have in days just fuck m-”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, silencing your requests with one hard kiss. He was holding back, but he still made sure to use just enough pressure to make you feel the desire he felt. More slick dripped from your core, making your legs glisten as you squirmed beneath him. By the time Joel finally pulled away, the both of you already looked fucked out. It had been too long since either of you had each other.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Joel reaffirmed, giving you a look as you began to protest before he continued, “You’re in bad shape and I ain’t much better, it’d just hurt us more than anything honey but…”

You blinked, wrapping your legs around him in a way that had him pinching his eyes closed as you asked sweetly, “But what daddy?”

Joel growled at the obvious trap, snatching your chin in between his thick fingers so that your eyes were forced to meet his own. The expression on his face was somewhere between desperate and pointed. The need to provide for you, in this case to provide a biological duty that was ingrained into his very being, was at odds with his need to protect. Despite his chivalric restraint, he was just a man with a cock that ached to be buried deep inside of your silken walls.

“You are a minx darling, you know that? S’good at riling me up, aren’t ya?” he grunted as you ignored the ache in your calves to use them to pull his hips until they were molded to yours.

“Me? No, I would never,” you giggled.

Joel laughed alongside you, his body jostling against your own. He sighed and rolled off of you, hissing at the feeling of his bruised spine bouncing against the old mattress. Since the bath you had taken with him, the bruises had grown lighter and the edges had even began to fade entirely but the reminder of his fall into the wretched torture ring Paul concocted was still there.

“Damnit baby, I swear that I want to. But I ain’t up for it with my back and you aren’t either,” he breathed out.

You groaned but nodded, feeling how the aches in your body almost surpassed the throbbing in your core. If Joel were to press himself into you, or if you were somehow able to sink down onto his thick length, there was a solid chance that it would only end in frustration and pain for both parties. Of course, you were still willing to try but you also respected his decision to opt out of it. Luckily, Joel had a compromise.

“Let’s do something else, hm? Why don’t you get comfortable right here beside me, shimmy off those PJs and show me how much you missed this cock baby,” Joel taunted, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

The moment your brain fully soaked in the request, you were nodding quickly and moving to undress. He chuckled darkly, kissing you once on the cheek before he backed away and turned on his side. Looking down at you with darkened eyes, your face grew hot as you carefully slipped the PJs from your body.

If he minded the way your skin was still discolored and puffy, he didn’t say a word. Instead, Joel carefully pulled his pants down and kicked them away. His cock was steadily dripping precum, which he used to ease the glide of his hand as he began to steadily stroke up and down. Your mouth watered and without even realizing it, you were reaching forward to grab it.

“Easy there honey,” Joel huskily chuckled as he batted your hand away, “Thought you were gonna give me a show.”

There was a part of you that wanted to whine at the fact that you couldn’t touch him but it was dwarfed the heat that gathered between your legs. Pushing away any hesitation, you skimmed down the valley of your breasts and stopped to touch your nipples. Joel’s eyes turned dark as he watched the way you squirmed and moaned at the bolts of electricity that ran throughout your body.

“Yeah, just like that darling. Good fucking girl,” he praised.

The praise ignited something in you, making you pinch the hardened buds until you could feel wetness beginning to coat the inside of your thighs. The moans that you were letting out were loud, with days spent away from Joel making you desperate for any form of physical contact. Already, you felt like you could combust at any moment.

“Christ baby, look how desperate she is. Fucking cryin’ for attention. Why don’t you play with her for me, hm? Fuck yourself with those little fingers babygirl,” Joel said through gritted teeth.

The filth that spilt from Joel’s mouth would be the death of you someday, you could feel it. Moaning loudly at his instruction, your hand dropped to slide against your seam. Slick dripped down your fingers and rolled off of your wrist as you moved them up and down, over and over. A sharp cry rolled off of your tongue, making Joel’s breath hitch beside you as you found the bundle of nerves that poured liquid ecstasy into your veins.

“Give me your hand honey,” he pleaded, snapping your attention back to him in an instant.

Hesitantly, you pulled your dripping fingers from the heat and held them out for him. Joel smiled wolfishly, winking before he grabbed your wrist and sucked them into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue cleaning your arousal off had you keening, making him speed up his motions on his cock in response. After a few more swipes with his tongue, Joel popped them from his mouth and smiled at you.

“There, now put these in that pretty pussy for me. I know she wants something inside darling, I can fucking feel it,” he groaned.

There was a moment of hesitation at the request. It was so miniscule that anyone else would have missed it, but not Joel. Just as you began to shakily reach down to heed his request, he had already snatched your hand back in his and raised your chin to meet his gaze.

“What is it darling?,” Joel asked softly.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach, making you squirm under his gaze as he studied your sudden shift into awkwardness. Redness flooded your cheeks, making his eyebrows pinch together as you tried to find the words to explain yourself. Fortunately for you, Joel always seemed to know what it was that you needed. The feeling of his hands cupping both of your cheeks grounded you and slowly, the palpitations that tightened your chest dissipated.

“If you ain’t ready yet or if you don’t want to do this anymore, all you have to do is say babygirl. I ain’t gonna be mad at ya, it’s only fun for me if you’re having fun too,” he murmured against your lips before he gave you a soft kiss.

Humming into his mouth, you let all the tension in your muscles release. Still pressing your mouth against his, you rolled onto your side so that the two of you could be chest to chest. Joel was like a solid wall of heat and you clung to the feeling of it, throwing one leg around his hips and gripping the back of his neck to bring him even closer. The proximity was intoxicating and you felt Joel’s neglected cock twitch between your soaked folds.

“Fuck, wait a minute baby. I meant what I said before, I’m not-”

“You’re not fucking me, I know. I heard you the first time,” you snipped, rolling your eyes as your lips attached themselves to his throat.

His cock jumped as you found the mark on his neck, nibbling and licking at it until he moaned. The smell of him was too much and somehow not enough, making you suck at the tender skin as your hips began to twitch from the rising tension between you. Thick fingers gathered the hair at the crown of your head and you whined as they carefully pulled at the strands. It felt like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to pull you into or away from him, so you made the choice for him.

After giving one sharp bite to his skin, making his hips cant up until the cradle of yours, you gently kissed at the spot before lifting your head to meet his gaze. Pink tinged every inch of his face. His curls were messy, the overgrown locks making him look somehow even more beautiful as they laid strewn across the musty pillowcase. You smiled at him, pushing back a few strands before you softly caressed the contours of his jaw.

“I don’t want to do sexy stuff without feeling you close. It’s… scary without having you near me,” you whispered, averting your eyes to study the scar on his nose rather than see his reaction.

Joel grabbed your hand, pulling your attention away from the small imperfection to watch as he pressed his lips against the bruised knuckles. His eyes met yours and instead of seeing pity or disgust, all that was there was love. The deep brown of his irises warmed your insides and butterflies erupted from within.

“That’s alright honey, I like having you close too,” he said sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You sighed as he nuzzled at your neck. The scruff of Joel’s cheeks against the open skin brought goosebumps to your arms and you moaned as he laved his tongue over his bite mark. There was nothing more you would rather do that shove his face deeper into your skin, to make him clamp down his teeth angrily against the delicate skin until you bled but you knew he wouldn’t. Not with the healing bruises that were smattered against the column of your throat. Instead, you had to settle for Joel’s soft ministrations.

“Joel,” you pleaded, trying to rock against him as the pressure between your legs grew with each gentle caress.

“I know honey, I gotcha,” Joel mumbled, hiking your leg up around his waist before he began to grind himself against your seam.

His cock slid through the wetness, collecting slick before the head of his rubbed against your throbbing clit. Your tummy clenched at the feeling, making you moan as he repeated the motion again and again. With the slow but steady movements of Joel’s hips, mixed with the feeling of his warmth and his big hands skimming every inch of your body, you could already feel the tension rising.

“Oh honey, she missed me, didn’t she? I’ll tell you what darling, I missed her, missed my sweet little pussy. God - shit, feel that? She’s soaking me baby,” Joel moaned, picking up his pace as your bruised bodies writhed together amidst the sheets.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, making Joel growl and increase his speed again.

The feeling of the head of his cock catching on your pulsing hole made you both groan, the temptation becoming harder and harder to neglect each time he slid through your slick soaked lips. All it would take would be one miscalculated thrust and he would be swallowed by your cunt, the slick ensuring that he would slide home in one thrust. Joel leaned in, kissing you again as he groaned at the feeling of sliding past your entrance over and over.

“Please, I need it. Need you,” you cried, weakly pushing your hips to meet his.

He made an unintelligible sound, pace faltering as his hips twitched at the invitation. The man’s resolve was strong, but who were either of you kidding? The moment his bare cock was against your slick soaked seam, it was over for both of you. There was no alternative to the feeling of his thick length rubbing against the inside of your walls, the tip of it pushing against something so devastating that you had no choice but to milk him dry every single time.

“Fuck baby, okay. Just tell me if I’m hurtin’ ya, okay?,” Joel asked hopefully.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes daddy, I promise.”

Joel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head for a second, his Adam's apple bobbing in front of your face as he swallowed and you leaned forward to lick a stripe up the open skin. The taste of his musk, mixed with a slight tinge of salt, made your mouth water and you nipped the underside of his jaw.

Like two puzzle pieces coming together, the feeling of absolute tranquility filled you as his cock began to breach your entrance. Joel captured your lips in a searing kiss, muffling your whines as he slid deeper inside of you. Although it had only been a few days, it seemed like you had greatly overestimated your abilities. You whimpered, struggling to take the solid weight of him carving a space for himself inside your walls. Just as it began to be too much, you sighed as calloused fingers came down between you to rub steady circles over your throbbing clit.

“Oh my god, Joel! Fuck, feels s’good,” you whimpered as you finally felt him slide home.

Joel took up every inch of space inside of you, the overwhelming fullness making your legs shake around his waist already. You tried to stay focused on him, clenching your teeth at the overwhelming pressure gathering between your legs, but it was nearly impossible. How could one simply remain calm with Joel’s huge cock burrowing itself deeper and deeper, with his southern drawl whispering the dirtiest words in your ear, with his arms pressing closer and closer until the two of you were nose to nose and panting into eachothers mouths.

“Fucking shit, I love you baby. So fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he panted, the feeling of his lips brushing up against yours making tingles shoot down to your core.

“I do - umph, fuck Joel - I do understand and I love you just the same,” you answered, reaching forward to place one hand over his heart while the other cupped the back of his neck.

With your fingers scritching at the curls along the nape of Joel’s neck and your thumb pressing down hard against that one soft spot on his neck, Joel whined and greedily increased the strength of his thrusts. It stung a little, with your blistered leg pushing against his backside to urge him on and your bruised ribs crying out as your breathing increased, but it was worth it. The feeling of Joel finally slamming into you, knocking loose a couple of tears from your eyes and lighting up every pleasure center in your body, already had your core beginning to twitch as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

The fire that erupted under your skin was stifling and had you shaking uncontrollably in seconds. It was all too much. The smell of him, his rough fingers sliding along your clit, the feeling of him pushing against your back to bring the two of you closer, was all so overwhelming. Panic began to bloom in your chest at the intensity of the release that barreled towards you. But Joel wouldn’t be Joel if he didn’t know you, and he quickly moved the hand on your back to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“Hey darling, be a good girl and look at me,” Joel commanded softly.

Blinking rapidly to clear the fog from your eyes, you were happy to find him smiling down at you when your vision cleared. He smiled back, the warmth of it making your heart thump harder against the walls of your chest. The bruises along his face and body disappeared in the moment. It was just him and you, the both of you wrapped in each other's arms as the world raged on around you. Nothing else mattered.

“There she is, doing so good my sweet girl. Taking me so well, look at it,” he grunted as he tilted your gaze downwards.

The sight of his cock slamming into your core made your head snap back, your pornographic mewl making Joel laugh as you cried out. He was quick, wrenching your face back down so you could watch as he pushed more and more arousal from you. Slick dripped from your core, wetting the patch of hair at the base of Joel’s cock and spreading out onto his thighs.

The sounds that bounced off the walls were downright filthy, the cacophony of moans mixing with the sounds of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass as he drove into you over and over. Just as quickly as he had snapped your gaze down to watch him fucking you, Joel snapped your gaze back at up to meet his.

“See that? That’s us darling, looks so fucking beautiful doesn’t it? Fuck, cum for me honey - shit ah - want to feel you fucking milk me before I fill you up,” he growled.

The way he was staring directly into your soul as he pounded away at your poor cunt and commanded you to cum, mixed with his fingers pinching your clit harshly, had you flying off the edge in seconds. A high pitched wail came from your mouth. Black dots clouded your sight as your core clenched around his cock hard, sucking him in as you rode the waves of your orgasm. Joel never stopped, continuing to fuck himself into you and playing with your poor clit until a second orgasm was chasing the tail of your first.

“Daddyyyy, oh my god Joel, fuck! Umph, so good. Love your fucking cock, oh god please, please cum in me. I want your cum inside please, want it to take - shit!,” you babbled.

Joel groaned so loudly that you were sure that anybody within 2 miles would have heard it, the sound of him driving you closer to what felt like it was going to be an even more brutal end. He picked up the pace even more and you choked on your own spit as you tried to heave in oxygen. Your lungs protested the increase in pace, bruised ribs beginning to toe the line of uncomfortability, but you ignored it. All that mattered was the feeling of him cumming inside, filling you up as your pussy swallowed it all.

“Yeah baby? Need my fucking cum in you? Fuck, of course you do. S’all for you, my pretty girl. S’good, so strong, so fucking smart, and all mine, isn’t that right? God fucking dammit, cum for me and I’ll give it to you. Gonna fill you up until it takes and everyone knows you’re MINE,” Joel groaned.

The whine you let out was garbled, half a plea for his cum and half a warning that you were going to cum yourself. He answered it by pressing his lips into yours, capturing all the pretty noises you were making in his mouth as you finally released all over him. Slick poured from your core in short spurts, making Joel break away to watch as you squirted all over him. He cussed and pinched your clit again, rolling his calloused thumb over the squished nub to prolong the release. You screamed and shook, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you felt his knot slam into you as he began to spurt ropes of hot cum as deep as possible.

“Fuuuuck baby,” Joel moaned, his tone laced with neediness as he continued to grind the both of you well past the point of overstimulation.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided and his knot began to go down, Joel finally calmed himself to wrap his arms around you. He gently turned the two of you so that you were sprawled out over his chest. With your ear pressed against his pec, you listened to how his heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm as he snuffled at your hair and carefully slid his hands along your back.

“I meant it, ya know,” you mumbled against him.

Joel yawned, blinking heavily as he asked, “Meant what?”

“I love you the same. I meant it. You’re the only person that I would do anything for, ANYTHING Joel. You love me like that and I love you like that too, I understand,” you replied, swirling your fingers in his chest hair as you spoke.

A beat passed and then Joel leaned forward to press his lips against the top of your head.

“Thank you darling,” he whispered.

You laughed and pulled yourself up as much as you could, while still being connected at the waist. The best you could manage was to hover over him with your forearms on either side of his head, looking him directly in the eye as you spoke.

“Why are you thanking me?,” you chuckled.

Joel shrugged and brushed the hair from your face before he spoke.

“Just for, I don’t know, being you. For loving me, for everything that… fuck, for everything darling. I love you and I would do anything for you and just… thank you for doing the same for me, even if I don’t always appreciate it,” he said.

When your lips pressed against his this time it was no lust fueled make out session, just two people sharing breaths and using all their might to show how in love they were with each other. It was slow and sweet, leaving the two of you panting when you parted. The smile Joel gave you afterwards was worth every single bruise that did and would ever discolor your skin. At this point, you were pretty sure he could make the sun itself jealous if he wanted to just by smiling at it the way he smiled at you.

“Sook,” you teased, pinching at his cheek playfully.

Joel chuckled and nipped at your fingers, “Only for you darling.”

You smiled back and leaned in to peck at his lips one last time before you moved to shimmy back down his body to rest against his chest but he caught you.

“Hey uh, did you want to talk about before? When I asked if you wanted to um, put your fingers in and you froze. Is that? - I can - I mean, I’m here if you wanted to maybe talk about it,” he babbled, getting mixed up and anxious as he struggled to find the right words.

Dread filled your stomach but you pushed through it, reminding yourself of every sweet moment that had passed between the two of you in the last few moments. Joel loved you, just as you loved him, there was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Um, okay so… Well, I’ve never really done that to myself before and I wasn’t really sure um… how to do it like… good as you do, or whatever. And um, well, I was always told it's wrong for anything to go up there if you’re not married so there’s that,” you stammered.

Joel blinked and your chest tightened, panic rising within you at the fear of more rejection.

“Then I met you and you changed the game for me, so props? I guess? But uh, going after Paul and his group was rough. A lot of them almost… and none of them did but it felt weird touching myself and I knew I wouldn’t feel weird if you were touching me. It’s dumb, forget it.”

“Stop,” Joel pleaded, holding your face with both of his hands so that you had no choice but to look back at him.

He breathed in deeply, motioning for you to do the same and you did. In and out, in and out, Joel had you follow his breaths until you were calm once more.

“S’not weird babygirl, I’m sorry that it made you feel weird and I’m so fucking sorry that those assholes tried to touch you. Thank you for telling me, it means a lot that you trust me like that,” Joel said earnestly, making you melt even more into his lap.

You sniffed, shaking your head as he tried to shush your cries but you weren’t crying because of the memory. It was the soft look on your mate’s face that was making you dissolve into a puddle of tears. The way that Joel looked at you with such devotion, it was nothing short of pure worship.

“Happy tears Joel, I just love you so much,” you laughed tearily, voice cracking at the end.

“And I love you too, so much. Maybe a bit more but who's counting,” he stopped to smile at your scoff before he continued, “And I think I have the solution to your problem darling, if you’re up for it.”

You were nodding before Joel even finished, at this point you were ready to take on the whole world with him if so much as asked. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you tightly, expertly rolling the both of you over as he slipped his half deflated knot out of your pussy. Joel cooed at you as you whined, smiling as he looked down to watch fat globs of his cum pouring out onto the sheets.

“Joel!,” you snipped, frustration growing as he stared at your gaping hole.

“Hush darling, let me admire ya for a sec. Pussy looks so good filled up with me like this,” he murmured, reaching forward to scoop up some of your combined release.

Before you could react, he was already shoving two fingers into your mouth to suck. You obliged, moaning as you choked on the weight of them against your tongue. Joel pulled them out, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss that had you digging your fingers into his shoulder until he groaned. He broke the kiss, smiling at your disheveled state before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Pulling away, Joel softened for a moment as he tentatively asked, “You trust me, right baby?”

“You’re the only person I trust Joel,” you admitted, blushing at the way he lit up at your response.

“Give me your hand,” he instructed, looking like a kid in a candy shop as he held out his own as an invitation.

With raised brows, you accepted his hand, allowing him to guide it back between your legs.

“If ya never done it, let me teach you how to play with her. We can do it together, that way you can fuck that pretty pussy for me sometime. Fuck, you’d look so fucking sexy honey” Joel cooed, his tone a stark contrast to his filthy words.

As usual, any reservations you had went out the window the second Joel’s thick drawl was heard. His words were syrupy and sweet, yet filled with lust and unbridled passion, it was a wonder to you that he had never been married or mated before the outbreak. He deserved a ring and a bite from the dirty soliloquies he grunted and moaned into your ear alone. Before you could reach up to pull him back in for another kiss, Joel quickly moved back and slipped off the bed, yanking you so that your ass was hanging off the side of it.

“Okay, now I’m gonna stick my finger in and show you what to do. Then, I want you to put one in right beside me when I say, got it?,” Joel instructed, his face wide open as he looked up at you hopefully.

You nodded, moaning as one of his thick fingers sunk deep inside of you. With Joel’s impressive length having just split you in two, it was easy for him to slide right in.

“Alright. Now feel how my finger curls up and rubs over this little rough patch right here?,” he asked, hooking his finger against that one spot that had you dropping your head back against the pillow.

“Yes,” you whimpered as Joel continued to press against your walls with expert precision.

He smiled and grabbed your hand again, leading fingers back down to your drenched core as he kept fucking you with his own.

“One finger, just follow my lead baby,” Joel cooed, praising you as you stretched around both his and your own finger at the same time.

Missing the thickness of his cock, you stealthily slipped in another to join your first. The sudden feeling of fullness had you whining, babbling at Joel as he looked down at you in awe. His smile was wicked as he reached for his cock, stroking it back to full mast as the both of you began to thrust your fingers up against your front wall.

“Two wasn’t enough for ya, huh? Greedy little thing is all stretched out from daddy’s cock,” he chuckled, leaning forward to bite playfully at your hip.

Panting at your combined efforts, you had no words to answer him with. The sight of Joel kneeled between your legs, stroking his cock so desperately while the both of you rubbed against that one spot just so, was mind breaking. He laughed again when you bucked your hips, eager for more but unsure of how to ask as you picked up the pace. Joel followed your lead, fucking his finger into you faster and speeding up his strokes to match your own.

“Need more, please,” you whined pitifully, making Joel’s cock twitch noticeably between his thighs.

Joel groaned, “Fuck darling, take your thumb and rub that little clit for me. Slow circles to start but then adjust your speed when ya get comfortable. Oh shit honey, just like that, so good for me.”

The moment your thumb pressed down on your swollen clit, your fate was sealed. Following Joel’s orders, you started off with slower circles before slowly gathering up speed. Within moments you were dripping slick down both of your wrists as you rubbed fast and tight little circles over your bud. Your eyes were snapped shut, head thrown back on the pillow in complete awe at the feeling of pure pleasure.

“So beautiful,” Joel whispered.

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice, face warming at the sight of him giving you that devoted look again. Sweat dampened the edges of Joel’s hairline. His lip was caught between his tith, with his eyes completely back as he stared at the way your pussy swallowed all of it. When he finally looked back up at you, he smiled again and winked, making you feel giddy for a moment before he slid another one of his thick fingers inside.

“F-f-f-,” you stuttered, eyes blinking heavily to stay open at the sudden fullness.

“F-f-f- what honey? Four fingers? Is that what you’re trying to say? Good girl darling, you’re right! There are four fingers fucking your pussy right now,” Joel teased.

The pressure gathered in your core once more and a layer of sweat broke out across your skin. When your thumb faltered on its rhythm against your clit, Joel’s thumb came down to press into yours, guiding your movements as you choked on the feeling. Your heart slammed against your chest, making it feel like it was nearly impossible for you to suck in enough oxygen. He hushed you, whispering soothing words as you neared the finish line.

“So fucking pretty for me baby. Fuck, look at you. Love you,” he sighed.

The sight of Joel was devastating. With his hair askew, eyes dark with desire, and his perfect cock steadily leaking onto his fist as his hips jolted up into it, the sight was enough to make anyone cum. Still, you felt the need to answer him before you did.

“You’re pretty too J-Joel - ha, shit - Could cum from just looking at you. Fuck - love you too,” you whined, watching as he smiled at your words.

He kissed your thigh in response and the feeling of his stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin had you keening. Your vision blacked out, your cunt throbbing and spraying so much slick that it forced all of the fingers that were inside of you out. Moaning and crying desperately, you could barely hear Joel grunting as he fucked his fist harder at the sight.

Before you had time to recover, Joel was already shoving three of his fingers back in to milk you of as much slick as you could produce. In seconds, he was violently sending you off another peak so fast that your entire body shook with the force. He groaned as another torrent of release rushed out of your abused hole, moving so that his face was directly in the splash zone. While noisily lapping up your release, Joel whined into your folds, the vibrations of it making you shiver as he neared his own release.

“Cum for me please, want it so bad,” you weakly whimpered.

Joel lifted his face and the slick that covered every inch of it mixed with the way he panted against your ruined cunt made you moan. He groaned in response, panting even harder as he met your gaze.

“Darling,” he whined, his cock angry for release as he stared at you.

“Cum Joel,” you instructed.

And that was it. Joel managed two more strokes before his dick was erupting within the embrace of his own hand. Cum spurted from him, splattering over the side of the bed and the floor as he leaned forward to plant his face back inside your folds. He didn’t make any move to make you cum again, perhaps sensing that you had reached your limit, instead he just nuzzled his face into your dripping folds as he came hard.

When Joel was done he groaned, hauling himself off the floor before he abruptly turned to trudge out of the room. You lifted your head, ignoring the way dizziness threatened to slam it back against the sheets as you watched him go.

“No!,” you croaked as tears gathered in your eyes again.

As quickly as he left, he was back. Leaning over to hush you, Joel brushed his lips over your face until he found the right place to nuzzle his face against your neck. You sighed as he kissed and nipped over the area, the feeling of security that the action provided making you forget any previous fears of abandonment.

“S’okay darling, just going to get something to wash ya up. Won’t be more than a minute, I swear,” Joel soothed with his words muffled by the soft expanse of skin he sucked at.

“Okay baby,” you sighed, completely docile from his careful touches.

He chuckled, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek before he stood and left the room. The house was freezing but the combined heat of your passionate night kept the tiny bedroom heated enough that you began to doze as you waited for him to return. As you fought against the fog, you barely had the time to remember why the two of you had fought in the first place. Instead, you sank deeper into the abyss, allowing yourself to drift into a deep sleep.

- Joel -

By the time Joel got back, you were asleep. The sight of it made him smile, knowing that you had been having a rough time sleeping with nightmares chasing you or the fear of not having him in sight pulling you from slumber. He understood the fear, he didn’t like not having eyes on you either. But what could he do? With the hunting parties becoming more frequent, he needed to continue his rounds lest the two of you be attacked.

He knew it had been time to leave for days, yet he held off. The thought of you hauling your unhealed body across a frozen wasteland in search of some safe haven that didn’t exist made him sick. There were not many options left available and he knew it, but the obvious choice was another factor that had him dragging his feet.

As Joel carefully wiped you free of any mess, gently placing you under the covers before he leaned down to kiss both of your cheeks, he knew where the next destination would be. The thought of it made him want to hurl, but you clearly needed protection that he couldn’t provide. Joel was only one man and his luck couldn’t go on forever.

Jackson was where the two of you needed to head in order to get free. Thinking about going back to the place he had scorned twice, first when he visited with Ellie, only to leave for the Fireflies, and again when he had been found at the gates in such psychological pain that they had to carry him in, only to disappear in order to embark on a path of loneliness soon after. He knew Tommy would be glad, given the fact that his little brother had continuously begged Joel to come back with him. And Maria… Well, she would probably greet you with open arms and withstand him for Tommy’s sake. However, none of that changed the way he felt.

A pit formed in his stomach as he began to plan, dreading seeing the faces that watched him in his nearly catatonic state after the death of his pup. Joel even dreaded seeing his brother, which he felt guilty for but he wasn’t sure what Tommy would think of the whole situation. He would love you, anyone would, but would his brother call his bluff? Joel knew that he was a tired old grump, and he also knew that you loved him for it, but would other people be able to see that? Or would he be doomed to being the social pariah for tarnishing such a pretty young thing? He could live with that, if only they’d accept you despite your connection to him.

Carefully, Joel tiptoed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him, he sighed before making his way down the hall towards the supply room. If this was going to work, he needed to be prepared for anything. There was no way he was losing you, to anyone or anything. As his mind sped through every possible scenario while he sorted everything into bags, he took comfort in the fact that you were resting.

While sleep clawed at the backs of his eyelids, trying with all its might to yank them down so that he may finally get a decent rest, your body had a bit more time to recuperate. Who knew that fucking you to sleep would have been the cure for all of your sleep troubles. Had you been healed enough, he would have done that days ago.

As the night slowly softened into the first hints of morning, Joel kept his ears peeled for any signs of danger while he readied everything that the two of you would need. It was only after piling everything into the car that he finally rested, crawling back into bed with heavy limbs that you wrapped yourself around in slumber. His gaze traced over your face, watching as your soft breaths puffed from between your chapped lips.

The sun shone through the windows and Joel sighed. Soon, you would be stirring awake beside him and it would be time to leave for the place he swore he would never return to. He pushed any thoughts about failure from his mind, focusing on the thought of you sitting in the meal hall with your now shared family to calm himself. Joel hummed, thinking about how good it would be to sleep somewhere with you without worrying about being attacked all the time. He missed that. The thought of it soothed him and despite his best efforts, Joel was out like a light in seconds.

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i1f3klic · 6 months ago

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Sub! Steve Rogers x Soft Dark! Black Reader

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex, anal sex, mommy kink, Steve being shy to show his boy parts, manipulation, and just reader being a total mommy,

It was a regular Saturday for Steve Rogers, being one of the earths mightiest heroes, it had its kinks. Tony had recommended, no he basically forced all the Avengers to live in the compound, so they could be closer together. So back to Steve, every Saturday morning he would get up before all the avengers, and go for a run, which would take 30 to 50 minutes. But, the best thing of his mornings would to see you. You were always in the kitchen when he got back, he felt as if you estimated the time when he would return. Like you knew that he wanted you, and he perceived that you wanted him to.

You would always start up a conversation with him, because you knew he was always looking at you as if you were stark naked. He always wanted to make a move, but he was a bit insecure of his man parts.

The air in the compound was crisp, it smelt like roasted cinnamon apple. Steve just came back from his morning run, and there you were in the kitchen as usual in your silk black tight nightie.

(Changing perspective)

“Morning Mr. America” I say with a smile. Steve was looking like a morning delight, even after a run he looked breath taking. “Good morning Y/n” he greeted back. Steve was wearing a wife beater with navy blue shorts. His pecs were traced through his shirt, it was a sight for sore eyes. If only he knew the things I’d do to him. I’ve always liked Steve since the first day I’ve seen him. I’m not the back down type , I like going for what I want but with Steve, it was like I didn’t know where to start off from with him.

“How was your run”? I asked as I was making pancakes for Tony and I, that man loved my cooking. “It was alright , I was sweating more than usual” he replied, I looked at him and his head was down to the counter. We barley ever locked eyes , I think he’s scared of me , I like that. “You’re probably just getting old” I laughed, and he let out a small chuckle. He was so cute, I wanted him, no , I needed him.

“You shouldn’t disrespect your elders” he said as he looked at me. Something in his eyes flashed me, it was a zing. I knew that was my chance to do something. “I would never disrespect you sweetie” I said calmly as I made my way over to him. I was standing infront him practically towering him. He looked so innocent , I just wanted to corrupt him, take his innocence away.

I leaned in and kissed him , his lips were so soft. Our tongues were devouring each other. I wanted more, “Come with mommy” I said as I led him to my room. I sat him on my bed and I admired him. Who knew I’d be on the route to fucking Steve Rodgers, he’d been on my hit list for a while. He looked at me , he was so beautiful and precious. I bent down infront him, gliding my hands over his crotch , his dick was rock hard.

I was about to zip his pants down and he stopped me. “I’ve never showed anyone my uhh” he said, red forming on his face, he covered his zipper part with both his hands. I gently grabbed them and looked deeply into his eyes . “You’re safe with me baby , say the world and I’ll stop, anytime. He nodded and unhid his hands. I unzipped his pants and his member flew up, it was a solid 11 inches and he had a pink tip.

I licked around his cock, hearing moans from Steve, I sucked on the sides of his cock and then gobbled it up. Bobbing my head up and down , Steve starts moaning uncontrollably, “uhhh Mommy” he moaned, everything about him turned me on. I got up and got on top of him. I licked his lips and sucked on them, “Your so pretty baby” I said. I licked my lips and took off my nightie, along with everything else Steve was wearing, his abs were majestic looking. I rubbed my hands on his abs and licked on them slowly. Everything about him was perfect and he smelled like lavender.

“Come here” I commanded him, I pointed my hand to the bed and he did as I said. His whole body was exposed , it made be wet jus by looking at it. I went and sat on top of him , with his dick entering inside of me. “Uhh” we both moaned as it entered. He grabbed my waist and motioned up and down. He hit all my spots without even trying. Steve had no idea how much power he had over me. I claw on his back and we’re in sync. Our bodies are colliding, the air smells like me and Steve or sex in general.

I get off from him and arch my back to him, “it’s all yours baby boy”. The room is silent , I guess he was trying to figure out where the hole was. When he entered he groaned loudly, “Just move back and forth” I instructed . He started of slow and sped up after every shot. I moaned and he groaned . His dick was so big , I was enjoying every second of it. He held my love handles (did I use this correctly?) and controlled my shit. We were fucking so loud, the whole team must’ve heard us.

He finally came and we both collapsed unto the bed in awe. “Soooo , how was that Stevie” , “Spectacular”

Hope y’all enjoy <3

#blackreader #the avengers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #smut #marvel #steve rogers #chris evans

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viking-goat-420 · 2 years ago

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Fandom: black Butler

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis/reader

Summery: Sebastian was your mate but he hurt you so you left. Now you work at the manor tending to the animals. Now Sebastian wants you.

A/N: I know I said it would be a bit before I pOsted but I got bored at the hospital I'm working on a Logan fic now. As always requests are open

You groan as you lift the hay for the horses. Ceil took you in and you have been tending to the horses and other animals he owned. You were a neko but you hid it well. Sebastian and you were mates but for a long time now you had been avoiding him. Now that things have slowed down you knew it was just a matter of time before he cornered you and you would have no choice but to deal with the problem.

"So how long do you plan on avoiding me?" Your body tenses when you hear his voice but shake it off. The sound of his voice makes your heart speed up and he grins when he hears it. You turn and look at him before giving the horse more hay.

"Not avoiding you Sebastian I have been busy" you say lying through your teeth and you both knew it, he sighs and steps closer.

"I grow tired of these games (y/n)" he says from right behind you and you jump and spin to face him. Sebastian pins you to the barn wall and you struggle against him and he groans and you still.

"Let me go, Sebastian!" You snap, looking up at him and he smirks down at you. His knee shoved in-between your legs and he pushed up and you gasped and bite your lip to hold back a moan.

"I can remember a time when you loved my hands on you" he smirks, you roll your eyes and look away but his hand around your throat makes you look up at him.

"That's in the past Sebastian! Now let me go! I'm not yours anymore!" You snarl that night flooding to your mind like a raging river, and all those feelings come back. His eyes narrow and his hold becomes painful tight as his demonic oura becomes so much stronger. You feel your body respond and he makes a purring sound.

"This mark makes you mine, now and until the end of time" he growls, his eyes flashing and your body starts to tingle. You lock eyes with him and snarl.

"Oh? I'm yours? That's not what you said the last time I saw you" you snarl your eyes flashing blue as your temper flears and your claws get longer. He leans down, his eyes locked with yours, his lips so close.

"You can't just show up and think things would be okay between us" you snarl, his thumb rubs the mark on your neck that was glawing a light purple color and you couldn't hold back the moan that slipped out. You bite your lip and growl as he chuckles before he leans down and kisses you roughly and deeply and you bite his lip hard and you both groan at the taste of his blood. Sebastians lips travel to your ear and he nips the lob, his voice low and dark.

"I can smell how wet you are for me, stop fighting and just give in" he growls his tounge traces your mate mark and you cry out your hips grind down on his knee.

"Oh looks like you're being summed" you smirk up at him knowing he didn't get what he wanted yet. He lets you go and takes a step back.

"This conversation is not over" he says before heading into the maner. Once you are sure he is gone you take a deep breath and lean against the wall. You bite your lip as you feel your body still buzzing and you knew that you were soaked and he knew it too.

--------- Later------

After you calm down you finish with the animals and head inside and to your room. After a hot soak in the tub you feel more relaxed as you tie the robe and start to brush your hair when you freeze when you feel a solid body mold to your back.

"Even after all this time you still use lavender in your water" he says softly, his nose in your neck as he takes in your scent. You bite your lip and close your eyes as his hand runs up your body to around your throat.

"Sebastian-" you start only for his hold around your throat to tighten, cutting off your words and you feel his breath in your ear.

"Just give in y

our mine. Your very being cry's out for me" he says lowly in your ear and you bite your lip. You sigh and set the brush down and your hand goes to his on your throat and his hold losenes and you turn to face him.

"If I give in you better make it up to me" you say your hand running up his arm as you lean up and lightly kiss him before pulling away. Sebastian growls and kisses you deeply and you moan your hands tangling in his hair as he lifts you up making your legs wrap around him as he sits you on the table as he undoes the robe. You moan as he kisses down your neck to your mark.

"By the time I am through you won't be leaving that bed" he growls into your neck and you bite your lip. You tug his hair pulling his head away from your neck and you kiss him deeply ripping open his shirt your nails drag down his chest and he hisses.

You undo his pants and grab his hard cock. You moan when he sucks on your tongue as his hands roam your body before he picks you up and lays you on the bed and you look up at his glowing eyes. He leans down and kisses you deeply, his lips travel to your neck and he follows the path down. He kisses and bites your hip bone and reaches your thigh.

"Sebastian" you whine as his breath hits your dripping center and he chuckles. Your head falls back and your back arches as he suddenly laps at your cunt like a starving man. You cry out your fingers tangled and tug in his hair as you thrust up into his mouth and he growls before holding you down on the bed.

"Hold still or I will tie you down" he says hotly against your skin and you bite your lip trying to keep still like he wanted.

"Please Sebastian" you moan, feeling the bubble close to pooping. You were so close but right before you reached your peak he pulled away.

"Oh no you still have to be punished" he grins darkly as he makes his way up your body. You whine at the loss of his mouth and the orgasm now disappearing. Sebastian chuckles before his lips leave a searing path up your body to your breasts where he stops to suck and bite at them, leaving a little bit of pain with pleasure. You cry out as his mouth latches onto your mate Mark and you cling to him.

"Please Sebastian! I need you so badly" you cry out your eyes burning a bright purple like the mark on your neck. You hear him chuckle as he pulls away from you but keeps you caged under him.

"Begging for me already? My you must be desperate" he smirked as he ran a finger through your folds filling how drenched you were for him. You whine before you lean up and kiss him deeply moaning at your own taste on his lips. Your fingers rake through his raven black hair as you bite his lip making his growl and his touch becoming rougher.

"Punish me later but right now I want My Demon" you say breathless against his lips and he snarls his hold borderline painful. He kisses you deeply as he pushes into your tight heat. Your nails dig into his back as he pounds into you making you cry out for him. Without warning he pulls out and flips you over on your hands and knees before pushing back in.

"Yes, that's it! Let everyone hear who you belong to" he snarls as he pounds into form the back the force of his thrusts slammed the bed against the wall. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back showing off your throat as you push back making him snarl and slap your ass hard.

"Fuck! Sebastian let me touch you" you cry out your nails dig into the wood headboard. He uses his hold on your hair to pull you flush against him. The hand that was in your hair moved to your throat with a tight grip.

"Mmmm you smell so ripe" he growls lowly in your ear and you shivered at his words. Normally demons couldn't have babies but mates is a deferent story. You whine and push back only for his hold to tighten around your throat.

"Sebastian please I need to touch you" you beg your voice no louder than a whisper but you heard you loud and clear. He pulls out and flips you on your back and you look up into his eyes. He leans down and kisses you deeply as he renter's you and you cling to him your nails leaving bloody marks down his back.

"I'm going to fill you full till your overflowing in my cum and pregnant" he growls in your ear as his hips snap hard and deep inside you making you cry out.

"Yes! Oh yes! Do it! Fill me full" you cry out clinging to him as you reach your peak and cum hard clenching him tightly making him snarl. He groans and stills as he leans down kissing you deeply as he fills you full making you moan. You kiss him back and stroke his face softly. Sebastian rolls off of you and you roll laying your head on his chest as he strokes your arm, his touch softened than before.

"Don't get too comfortable you still have to be punished" he chuckles as he moves you and your numb imbs to where your hands were over your head and then the cold steel of chains. You whine and tug weakly as you look up at him with a pout and he grins bringing his face close to yours.

"We couldn't cuddle first?" You ask with a grin on your lips your body fully ready for him. He leans down and kisses you deeply and you moan as he bites your lip.

"I do believe I promised you would not be leaving this bed" he says his hands running down your body before you are flipped on your hands and knees with your arms crossing in front of you and your ass was in the air.

"Now count" he grins his hand landing on your ass hard making you cry out. You knew tonight was gonna be a long one.

#smut #requests are still open btw #reader #please request #reader smut #request #requests #vikingsarmy #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian x reader #black butler #black butler smut #black butler reader smut

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teafangirl · 19 days ago

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Assets and Angels

Winter Solider x Supernatural

Summary : Hydra has people in high and low places literary, so they managed to hear about the Angels falling from Heaven thanks to Metatron using the already fallen Angel known as Castiel, Angel of Thursday. To them, making an army of brainwashed Angels sounded like a good idea, but they knew nothing about Angels, most didn't think they were real. So of course they sent Soldat to catch this Castiel, they didn't care whether he died or not. They also didn't know how strong the ones surrounding Castiel were! I am changing the marvel timeline a bit here.

What if Soldat was saved by Team Free Will, not Cap.

Warnings : mentions of torture, swearing, Cas being a badass, Soldat remembering, Marvel timeline gets changed and so does some of the story. May add more warnings later!

A/N: Strap in, this will be a doozy. I might do more chapters, who knows. (i am working on chapter two!) In this, there are some specific events from Supernatural you need to know. Castiel has his powers. This is really a mix of seasons, if you don't mind. Oh, and as for Bucky, this is set a long while before Caption America Winter Solider. I don't have an exact year this takes place, so just beer with me. Lastly, Crowley is alive in this one and is the king of hell him and Jack will come into the story later! Enjoy

PS: I don’t own marvel or supernatural, so rights go to their respective owners! the pictures are from the web! apologies for any spelling mistakes!

—-----------

Chapter one - 2011 February 22ed at 9:30 pm —- Mission report

They once said Hydra had eyes everywhere, however no one thought they looked into the supernatural, they had been contacted when Hitler had been reborn that was before the one known as Dean Winchester sent him back to his grave. They were more they curious, they had even lost one of the older assets to him and his brother. Some of their operatives had kept an eye on him, only for him to disappear, apparently to a place called Purgatory it was recorded he wasn't the only one who disappeared from their radar. They had also been keeping a louse eye on Castiel, who was apparently an Angel. As for Deans brother, there were rumors he had powers that he could use if he drank enough demon blood, it was all a little too hard to believe for some operatives, soon both the missing targets came back on their radar, and they turned to the frozen capsule at the back of the room.

The glass was foggy, you could make out the body that was inside, its metal arm was still at its side. It looked almost peaceful, someone pressed a button and the capsule opened, Cold blue eyes opened and gave death stares to the guards that were in the room along with the doctors. Its hair was a wet frozen black mess, the man looked like no one had fed him good in a long time. He probably didn't remember the last time he had a burger and fries. Nor did he know his real name, his legs took one robotic step out of the capsule he had been placed in for how long, he didn't know. He wore a straight jacket of sorts, it was tight, restricting his body, the mask on his face restricted his breathing and speech. His eyes bore a look of pain, and constant fear.

“Soldat”

One of the doctors called him, he looked at the man. His eyes bore a death stare which was telling of how much pain he was in. he didn't know why, he knew disobeying was futile, but he couldn't help himself from running at the doctor, grabbing his throat in his metal hand, a move that spoke of how much they had hurt him. Without hesitation, he squeezed the mans neck, but then he heard another man yell something at him.

“Longing”

He turned his gaze to the one that had just spoken, casting a death stare at them. But that didn't seem to stop them.

“Rusted, Seventeen,”

He felt something clouding his mind, he felt his grip on the doctor throat loseen, as he put his human hand to his head. The pain was excruciating and didn't stop. It felt like he was being pushed from the controls of his own body, his own mind too.

“Daybreak, Furnace, Nine,”

His knees buckled in pain, the pain got so much worse. It ran throughout his body, he felt like his legs were stone, he couldn't control them, then it was his torso. Tears flowed from under the mask, he was still human, they couldn't stop him from crying in pain.

“Homecoming, One,”

He tried to move his arms, but it was useless, it was hopeless, his mind had been shattered more times to many. He couldn't feel himself anymore, and as the last word was said.

“Fight Car”

Everything went break. His eyes went pure cold, like they could freeze a person in fear. The now asset was told to sand, and it did, its moves were emotionless, cold they could make anyone shiver. They said it was the Deadliest assassin, and he was, he had killed many under the brainwashing Hydra put him through. There was never an end to the pain for him, One of the generals who had walked into the room just as the asset was activated handed him a mission file. Soldat held the folder in his hands, it was light, thick.

“Project Angel and Winchester”

Soldat ran his hand overt the top of the file and opened it up. The first page had an image of a mugshot, the mugshot was of a dirty blonde haired green-eyed man, looked to be in his 20 or older. Below read the name

“Dean Winchester

Family: Mary and John Winchester, deceased. Brother Samuel Winchester. Alive.

Location ; Kansas specific location, a motel.”

Asset was told the motels location and that it was to find this Winchester and make him tell or bring this Angel name Castiel to asset, then to bring them both back to base. The asset didn't ask any questions, just got on his motorcycle and went. They thought he could do this on his own, so they didn't send men with him. The wind blew through his hair as The Winter Solider rode, soon arriving a few blocks from the motel. He noted the Impala that was parked out front and waited.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

The Winchester brothers had just finished a case and were winding down in their motel room. Sam was looking at his computer and Dean had the TV, after only a few minutes his sumech rumbled. He had eaten a few hours ago, but Dean was always the foodie of the duo, more so if he was eating pie. The model room the boys were staying in was nothing special, they planned to head back to the men of letters bunker in the morning.

“Hay Sammy, I am going to go get some food, want your usual rabbits food?”

Dean said as he walked towards the door, he was dressed in a black tea shirt with a red and black flannel. Sam was wearing a gray patterned button down shirt. Both boys sport blue jeans and combat shoes. San nods to his brother's question. He returns to his computer after Dean leaves the room. Only a few minutes later a loud crack can be heard from outside and Sam quickly stands and grabs his gun from his side.

“DEAN”

Sam getting frantic calls for his brother, ready to run outside and save him. However, the door opens and a sweaty looking Dean darts inside and locks the door. He looks pale, bleeding a little, breathing heavily Sam takes a step closer to him but after locking the door, and without saying anything, Dean runs to the beds and grabs the weapons they stashed under them in case something happens.

“Dean, what happened?”

Sam called again, as he watched his brother steady himself. Dean was about to speak when the door was ripped off its henges, revealing a figure he wore all back, it looked like he was wearing a straight jacket. His hair was black, shoulder height and clearly full of tangles. It looked like an assassin, or terminator, with its metal arm and the mask over its mouth and nose. Sam moved to where Dean was and threw salt at it hoping it was some Demon, but the salt did nothing, it also didn't look like any Angel.

“W…What do you want?”

Sam was able to spit out as it came closer it actually made him shiver, Dean was aiming a gun at it, but it didn't stop at the sight of the gun, it came closer, Sam watched Dean pull the trigger and fire an eray of bullets at it, but as soon as it held its metal arm up the bullets were blocked, and it came closer.

“What the Fuck. Is this thing some killing machine?

Sam looked at his brother, who was tumbling with the gun magazines, trying to pull out some silver bullets. Dean and Sam were backed up against a wall, and it was coming closer. Both their breaths hitched as they felt fear. That was until the figure finally spoke. A low, spine shivering voice came from behind the mask, a voice full of pain.

“Soon your brother will be dead, after extensive torture, interrogation, and your Angel will belong to Hydra!”

Sam could feel Dean tense, and he tensed himself, they knew nothing about this organization, but if they wanted his brother and Cas it was for something bad. Just as it came even closer, a gruff, serious voice sounded from behind it.

“I don't think so, assbutt, you'll be coming with us, sergeant!”

Soldat turned sound and the last thing he saw was a tan trench coat, then everything went white, and he felt sleepy as he fell to the floor unconscious.

Sam and Dean both let out a sigh of relief as Castiel stood there, in front of the assassin's unconscious body. Cas quickly came over to Dean and used his Angel magic to heal him, then he looked at Sam who nodded, indicating he was ok.

“Thanks for the save, Cas, so who is this guy?”

Cas looked at Dean as he spoke, then thought for a second.

“We should get back to the bunker, and put the assassin in the dungeon, my angel magic will wear off soon, we don't need him calling reinforcements.”

The boys nodded, they definitely didn’t need to deal with more of these assassins or whoever Hydra was. Cas helped pile the unconscious assassin into the trunk of the Impala. The Angel then slid into the back seat While Sam grabbed the rest of their stuff and slid into the passenger seat, he looked over at the driver's seat which had a broken window. Soon enough, Dean slid into that seat. Sam couldn't blame his brother for looking tense after the event that had just transpired. Dean said a few mumbled words to his car before turning the key and starting up the engine. Dean drove the car out of the parking lot.

“Cas make sure that Assassin doesn't pop out of the trunk while we are driving, and make sure we arnt being fallowed!”

Cas nodded to Deans request, Dean glanced over to the broken window, the memory of what happened when he was going to go get food still fresh in his head. He didn't even hear the assassin coming up to the window, the only thing he heard was the back door opening and closing.

A few moments earlier!

Dean had decided to go out to get him and Sam dinner, a burger for himself and rabbit food for Sam. Sam liked his salads, Dean didn't care much for them. Once he left the motel room, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, as if he felt someone watching him. He looked around for a moment but saw nothing, he decided he was probably imaging things and got in the Impala.

“Hay baby, you ready for a ride?”

He got no answer from the car, not that he expected one. He ran his hands over the sterling wheel, then took out his keys and took a moment to find the correct one. Once he did, he took a look in the review mirror and smiled. His smile broke however when he noticed two cold blue eyes staring back at him in the mirror from the backseat the eyes were cold, deadly, full of pain, and they were locked on him as if they were having a staring contest with his green eyes. He took a deep breath thinking maybe it was just Cas, but Case's blue eyes were not cold, they were warm, pleasant to look at. Plus, where was his signature “Hello Dean” he hadent announced himself which met these blue eyes were definitely not from his Angel Castiel. He then remembered he had heard the back door open and close, but he must've been too busy with baby to notice. Dean slowly reached for his gun, he kept his eyes on the review mirror, watching the back seat. Whoever this was, it was making him tremble, his gut told him to duck and get out of the car as soon as possible. Dean decided to listen to his gut, he slowly opened his car door he was somehow able to slide out of the car just as the person threw a punch with its metal arm instead of hitting him it hit the window and Dean scrambled away from the broken glass and ran to the motel to meet up with Sam.

—---------

“Dean?”

Dean was brought back to the present by Cas who was sitting in the back seat. In the same spot that assassin was in. he reminded himself that it was just his Angel back there, not a cold eyed assassin. Sam looked over from where he was looking out the window and looked at Dean.

“Dean?”

His brother repeated the question Cas had already asked. He knew they could tell he was tense, and he could tell Sam was too.

‘I'm peachy”

He managed to say and smile at his brother and his Angel. Cas then put a firm hand on Deans shoulder as the car neared the bunker.

“If the assassin tries to hurt you or Sam again, I won't hesitate to kill it!”

Sam and Dean both smiled, but they knew they needed the assassin alive for now.

“However, I believe the sergeant won't be any harm to us”

Cas smiled and Dean gave him a confused look as he parked the car outside the bunker. It was a place that was ment to keep things and people hidden, so Hydra wouldn't be finding their Asset any time soon!

To be continued….. 🌹

#if you have any ideas for where the story could go #comments are welcome! would love to hear your opinions #bucky barnes #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #i love supernatural #castiel supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #oh and lastly let me know if i should do a tag list !#enjoy! 🌹

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fukoushite · 4 months ago

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The Nightscape Chapter 1 (BSD AU)

- my oc is featured in this, Kumiro! She's like, a self insert !

- this is my first time writing fanfiction !! So um . I hope it's like good 😭

- updates will be slow as I am in school

- ty my beta reader (Felix)

- I am planning to include manga panels here and there, if I end up doing so they'll be shown on here !! Idk if I have motivation tho

- I'm tryna make my tumblr more pretty and easy to acess but I cannot figure out how so uh .

That's all I think ? Enjoy 🎀

---

"I can't hold this for much longer!"

She spoke through her teeth, her voice held back and absent of air, scared to release any energy that she still needed. Her knees were bent and her arms were trying to hold up a large piece of concrete, one that had fallen on top of her just moments ago. Her arms and legs were slightly shivering, as she didn't possess enough strength to hold up rubble larger than herself, and her breath was absent until absolutely necessary.

"Kenji!", she managed to get out.

"On it!"

A blonde boy with freckles ran forward and lifted the piece of rubble that the girl was trying to hold up, took over from her and slowly put the debris down next to both of them.

She slightly bent her knees and put her hands on them, breathing heavily, resting.

The person who put the concrete down for her, Kenji, possessed over superstrength as his special ability, so he did not feel the slighest bit out of breath. His appearance was youthful, he wore a straw hat on his back and blue overalls. He appeared a farmer.

"Hah... Thanks.."

The boy responded with a smile. "No problem!"

The girl did not get much time to catch her breath. Alarmed, she warned the boy who'd helped her; "Watch out!!"

A kind of black mist hurled at them that they barely managed to dodge. It was solid and sharper than a knife, but blunt at the same time. It could take any shape it wanted to.

The girl jumped up, grabbed Kenji's sleeve and used her ability to stop time while they were both in the air. Right as they landed somewhere right of the mist, time immediately resumed.

Kenji exhaled with a "phew!" and thanked her.

"Damn, that was close. It almost had me by the neck! If I wasn't gifted, that is.. heh."

Kumiro took pride in her ability.

It allowed her to stop time, as long as she didn't move anything while doing so. This included tiles and walls, so she couldn't move around all that well while using it, and thus she used it most often to shorten her jumps at enemies to catch them off guard or dodge their attacks. She was able to take others with her in the stop by touching them (apart from Dazai, because of his nullification ability), and the same properties counted for them.

She got thrown out of her daze and yelled "Atsushi!" when she saw that one of the mist's ends tried to grab a white-haired boy's leg; but it transformed into a tiger's, as he jumped up, transformed his arms as well, and went straight for the black energy.

He yelled while jumping, showing off his teeth, until he landed right on top of the mist that had attacked him and bit into it as hard as he could.

Kuuma had been staring at the boy while he attacked, slightly worried, but also almost chuckling.

"Damn, Atsushi," she mumbled, "your leg almost dissappeared. Again."

'Also, why do you always scream while attacking? The enemy will hear your ambush from a mile away', she thought.

"Kuuma!"

Atsushi yelled at her, not for laughing at his leg but moreso as a warning, a slightly worried tone in his voice.

"Hm?"

She looked back at the root of the mist and saw a black blade coming straight for her. She stopped time without a second thought, stared at it in surprise and confusion for a second, then slowly crouched down and tapped the ground to resume time.

With a loud, crumbling and explosive sound the mist landed above her head.

"Goddamn."

She was slightly shocked at the impact that blow had.That could have been her skull.

"You okay...?"

"I'm fine...!"

She looked at the blade as it was busy getting itself back out the wall it had just pierced, then grabbed it with both her hands without standing up.

"...Kuuma?!"

With a kind of childish, blank, but very curious and attentive expression she pulled down as hard as she could, and after a few seconds of trial the mist slightly snapped.

"!"

She didn't have enough strength to fully break it, but Kenji came to help. He grabbed the mist on both sides of her hands and ripped it apart.

"Wow!! Thanks, farm boy!"

She smiled at Kenji, since he had helped her, but before Kenji could open his mouth or shape it into a smile a voice in the back asked;

"Um. Kuuma. Wasn't that like, a literal blade?"

"..."

She looked at her hands, and they indeed were red.

"Uh.. Oops?"

She turned to look at the others, closed her right eye, turned her head slightly to that same direction and stuck a bit of her tongue out.

"Are--"

The tiger boy wanted to ask if she was alright, but when his right arm got snatched by another piece of mist his sentence was left unfinished.

Pulled, he flew towards it, but quickly composed himself, grabbed the mist with his other hand, sunk his teeth into it, bit down and pulled it towards himself.

This one hadn't transformed into a blade; instead, it was more soft, likely meant for grabbing the enemies and holding them down or trapping them, like a thick rope.

When Atsushi pulled, it immediately ripped to shreds, but this time, he threw himself directly at the roots of the mist, the core; a person.

"He's going for it! Get 'em, Atsushi!", Kumiro cheered on.

The core was in the middle of a sunken part of the room; in fact, it almost looked like it was a whole few floors below them, with how deep it was, even though the building only had two floors in total.

The high jump couldn't be made by Kuuma or Kenji, because while they were both pretty resilient, they would break a leg even if they used their abilities, so they resorted to standing on the side of the hole and watching Atsushi as he fought.

"Gh--", he vaguely gasped; A blade of mist had threwn itself horizontally at Atsushi's face, and if he hadn't seen it even a milisecond prior, his lips would be separated from each other, his rows of teeth; his chin and his brains.

He opened his mouth and closed it again not even a second after, clamping down on it with his fangs as hard as he could.

Unlike a bullet, its force wasn't stopped when the object stopped moving; the boy had to keep biting, while the blade was pushing him back.

Kenji grabbed a table from the floor he and Kuuma were on, threw it down at the blade, and because of his strength the piece of furniture ended up shattering the mist in that area.

Shattered, but so was the table.

"eheh."

"Thanks." Atsushi replied with gratitude quickly, then ran forward to the person at the center of the nightmare, took the piece of mist trying to strangle them and tried his best to rip it apart.

After a few seconds, it snapped, and the ropes and blades on the sides of the nightmare gradually retreated.

"Yippee! Good job, tiger boy!", it sounded from above. While saying so Kumiro closed her eyes excitedly and put her hands up. Her bangs (or rather, bang) swayed as she did so.Her hair was short, ending just a little bit below where her neck starts, and it curled outwards at the ends; she once had two long strands of hair in front, falling on her chest, before the right one got cut off in a battle. It now ended just above her earring, which was a long, tiny chain with a star at the end, just short enough to not touch her shoulder. In her other ear was also a star earring, but the star was the entire earring; there was no chain, so the star came immediately on her ear.

The cut also left a little diagonal scar around her right earring, since the blade came from her lower right to her upper left. Her short bang also followed that diagonal line, albeit somewhat more natural, as it had grown a bit by now; she had no motivation to cut the other bang as well to make it look normal, as she felt a somewhat regular haircut would take away the uniqueness of her face.

Her hair was a greenish tint of blonde, and her eyes matched it, being a desaturated teal of color, with spots of yellow around her pupil.

Her eyes were big and round, yet she always looked somewhat dreamy. Perhaps it was the light, desaturated tone in their color, or maybe the fact her upper eyelashes were more prominent than the lower ones, complimenting the very vague eyebags her face always wore.

She used to wear a star hairclip as well, but now that her earring was visible at all times she felt it would cause a "star overdose", so she only wore it occasionally now.

She also sported a tie, the same teal as her eyes, though with more saturation, with a sharp-looking collar to match it. Sometimes she wore a plaid skirt that ended right above her knees as well, but she felt they were slightly uncomfortable, so she usually resorted to pants that matched her black platform boots with beads around the laces.

The same voice that had asked Kumiro about the blade she grabbed, spoke again;"Ya~ayy! Nice work Atsushi!"

"Thank you, Dazai!"

Dazai walked forward from having leaned against the wall, and when Atsushi wanted to to climb up to join the rest on the part of the floor that hadn't sunken, he stopped him by saying: "Atatatata! There's a citizen we need to care of, riiight?"

Kumiro did deem this important, but there was another thing she wanted to address first; "Um. By the way, Dazai."

She looked over at him with a kind of judging look in her teal eyes.

"Yeees?"

"Is it just me, or have you not done anything?"

"..."

He looked over at her, the look on his face the same, still smiling, but the mood in his eyes slightly different.

"...?"

"DON'T PLAY DUMB!", she yelled.

"Heh! Well, but you managed, right? No need for me to butt in!"

She exhaled as she turned her head forward, slightly down, closed her eyes and sighed. "eheh!" was Dazai's response.

"Kuuma. Are your hands alright?" Atsushi asked from down below."Oh! Uh, well, we have Yosano, so no need to worry, right?"

Yosano was the Armed Detective Agency's doctor. Her ability allowed her to heal any wound, as long as it's lethal. And thus, for treating small wounds, she needed to almost kill her patient first.

"Yeah, um, actually, I kinda don't wanna go to her--! Heh. Ah, and also, shouldn't you be helping that girlie behind you?"

"Ah!"

Atsushi turned around and looked at the citizen the Nightmare had come from. She had woken up by now.

"...??????"

She appeared slightly frightened by the mess her room had become.

A sunken floor, a broken table, a shattered window, and holes and cracks in her walls and ceiling.

Atsushi tried to comfort her slightly;

"Yeah, um... sorry. You had a nightmare. It took a while to take care of it..."

Dazai jumped down with his hands in his pockets, his coat swaying behind him, and landed besides Atsushi.

"Zamn, that man has stable legs to be able to jump that far down," Kumiro commented.

Atsushi had transformed back by now, but his stable tiger limbs had allowed him to land safely whenever he jumped.

"Oi! Girliepop!" Kumiro yelled down, "what did you dream about? What did it look like? Did you see black mist? Was something trying to kill you? Wh-GH--"

Her sentence ended with uncomprehensible noises, as she was cut off when Kenji spoke instead.

"Wait until she knows what happened", he said.

"My bad."

Kumiro was a psychology student, and she was very interested in dreams and the subconcious, so the Nightmares awakened her interest greatly. She wanted to find out what caused them, what the dreamer sees, if they can stop it themselves, and much more.

She was very perceptive and almost immediately knew how someone felt by looking at them, and she took great care in respecting others; she tried to objectively rationalize why people, including herself, were acting the way they did or why they felt what they felt, but some interests pushed away that perceptiveness, craving to collect as much knowledge as she could get.

After explaining what had happened to the citizen and (somewhat) taking care of the mess they'd made, and also after getting the knowledge Kumiro wanted, the Agency walked out of the building and headed on to spot more nightmares. When they didn't see any, but instead saw the sun rise, they took themselves back to the agency.

"The agency's gonna go broke if stuff like this keeps happening.", Kuuma sighed.

She pat Dazai on the back with her hand, which she had washed the blood off of and cleaned at the building they practically demolished, and continued;

"Good luck."

"Hm? With what?"

"DAZAAAII!"

Kunikida came storming out of the front door. He ran up to Dazai, loosely grabbed him by the neck and started swaying him back and forth.

"Kunikiiiida-kuuuun...", Dazai replied in a whiny voice, but that didn't help his situation.

"STOP COMPLAINING! YOU'RE IN THE WRONG HERE!"

"Ah--eh--n." Kumiro wanted to stop him, but not only had Dazai not done anything to fight off the nightmare, he hadn't helped clean their mess, and even told the girl that if she wanted to die, she should do it with him. She wasn't really sure how to excuse him.

"...good luck explaining that", she whispered to herself.

#bsd #bsd au #Bsd fanfic #fanfic #oc #fanfiction #bsd fanfiction #au

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blukrown · 2 years ago

Text

Missing You Pt 2 - Horangi x Konig [NSFW]

Horangi returns from his mission, will he learn of what Konig got up to while he was away?

PART ONE

Or Read on AO3

Horangi was relieved to see the KorTac base again. Two months undercover in a shitty hideout meant he had come to miss his small quarters, basic meals and the friendly faces of the team. Especially that of his partner, Konig.

It was going into the evening when Horangi’s heli landed on the tarmac and he finally felt solid ground after hours of flying. Not getting a moment to catch his breath before he was ushered to a briefing room. Needing to debrief and write his mission report. Horangi did as he was ordered, making sure to be quick about it. The jitters of being home and being so close to Konig had his knee bobbing under the table as he wrote. Eyes looking to the clock and hands flicking through each page, hoping he would finish before curfew. Finally done, Horangi was quickly out of the door.

Determined to hunt down Konig, he realised his quarry was just outside the briefing room door, leaning against the wall.

Konig lifted his head and his blue eyes closed in a bright smile. Immediately stepping away from the wall to meet Horangi at the door.

“Horangi, welcome back,” Konig said cheerily.

“It’s good to be back,” Horangi replied, looking up and down the hall, he frowned. “Were you waiting for me?”

“But of course! I came as soon as I heard you had arrived.”

Horangi’s frown only worsened at that, “How long?”

“N-Not long,”

“Konig . . .”

“ . . . Two hours.”

“ Two hours ?” Horangi repeated, exasperated. “You didn’t have to do that. I would've come to find you as soon as I was done.”

“I know . . .” Konig mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. “But I wanted to. I . . . I wanted to be the first person you saw when you came back.”

Horangi’s heart twinged in delightful heartbreak at the thought and he could not help but let out a small laugh, “Well, aren’t you sweet.”

Konig only flushed, the small bit of skin around his eyes blooming red even through the black paint.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked, knowing he himself was starving as he had not eaten since before his exfil earlier that day.

Kongi shook his head, “No, not yet.”

“Let’s go get dinner, then. And I’ll tell you all about the mission.” Horangi said while nodding with his head to follow him.

“I would love that.” Voice sounding genuinely delighted.

The towering Austrian then took to Horangi’s side as they walked. Shoulders brushing with each step.

. . .

The two enjoyed a filling but boringly simple meal from the mess along with Horangi recounting his mission. Gladly answering any of Konig’s questions and preening when he heard Konig’s praise. All the while, their legs brushed under the table, both restraining their need for closeness until later, when they were alone.

Luckily, they did not have to wait long, as Konig gladly invited Horangi to ‘visit’ his quarters. Which, between them, meant Horangi would not complete his visitation until morning.

Konig ushered Horangi inside and closed the door, happy to see Horangi in his personal space again.

Horangi went to sit down on the edge of the bed, going about removing his sunglasses and mask now that there were no prying eyes to watch. Konig himself had just removed his hood when he noticed it. The pillowcase he had pilfered from Horangi’s room had been abandoned on his bed. Right where Horangi was sitting.

Konig hastily grabbed the case, hoping Horangi did not see it. It appeared so as Horangi only looked at him in confusion at his sudden movement.

“What are you doing?”

“N-Nothing.” Konig mumbled as he quickly went to his dresser drawers.

“Then what are you holding?” Konig flinched when he heard Horangi get up from the bed. Pulling out a drawer intending to hide the item until further notice.

“It’s really nothing.” Closing the draw and turning, Horangi was right behind him, making Konig jump.

“Then why are you hiding it?” The taller man almost flinched again when he saw the suspicion in Horangi’s face. Scarred lips thinned into a line and handsome eyes squinting as he tried to look past him.

“I . . . Uhm . . .” Konig started, eyes nervously darting between Horangi and the drawer. “It’s . . .”

Horangi’s sharp gaze softened as he realised he may be distressing him. Reaching out, he took one of Konig’s hands in his own. The Austrian’s hand was unsurprisingly large, with broad fingers and callouses from where he held his weapon. Horangi’s were dwarfed slightly in comparison, not that he minded. Horangi could probably look at them for days, admire them, touch them, kiss them. He was almost tempted to but he had other matters to attend to first.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Horangi reassured, squeezing the palm of Konig’s right hand between both of his own. “But you can tell me anything, ok?”

Konig seemed to ponder over that, his eyes looking to the drawer once before he looked back to Horangi. Very clearly torn between whether to explain himself or not.

“I . . . It’s a pillowcase f-from your room.”

“From my room?” Horangi echoed, a bit confused.

“I went to drop off that book you gave me,” Konig explained, voice hastened in an effort to explain himself. “And I . . . I er- got . . . Got distracted.” His hand between Horangi’s own squeezed. “I thought it best to take it for . . . For safekeeping.”

Horangi only needed a moment before he connected the dots. His heart then swelling as he realised just what this meant. “Did you miss me that much?”

“M-More than that! I think I would have gone a little crazy if you had come back any later. But I did not steal anything else! I thought this might not be of importance so you would not miss it when it was gone.”

Horangi felt a smile curl his lip, his whole chest feeling this dull sort of ache as he listened to Konig. Could someone feel sad but also so overjoyed at the same time? Because Horangi thought he felt it, with his chest aching but heart soaring at the thought of what his absence had meant to Konig. That he had been so desperate for anything tangibly Horangi’s that he had stooped to taking something of his to ensure he did not grow too lonely.

Someone else may have thought it a tad unhealthy but to Horangi it was one of the most romantic things he had ever heard.

“You can have whatever you want Konig, just say the word.”

“Oh,” Konig looked visibly surprised by that. His eyes lowered to look over Horangi’s form. “Then . . . Then can I have your shirt? O-Only after you’ve finished using it . . .”

Konig faltered as his eyes grew wide. Watching as Horangi took off his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and holding it ourt to him.

“Go on,” Horangi pushed the clothing into Konig’s hands. “It’s yours.”

Konig’s fingers were trembling slightly, apprehension and thrill making his heartbeat ring in his ears. Looking down at the fabric - to the untrained eye it was nothing special - a grey military issue t-shirt with the KorTac emblem covering where the heart would be on the left. But for Konig, it was like a priceless treasure. The cloth was still warm from Horangi’s body heat and even from this distance he could smell the hint of sweat that had set him off a few weeks prior. His hands were now shaking as he lifted the shirt to his nose, feeling his face burn red as he did it all the while Horangi watched. Sharp eyes not ever looking away, partially lidded and pupils blown out as it appeared that Horangi was quite enjoying what he was watching.

“I had no idea you liked my smell so much,” Horangi said, voice hushed.

The Korean man stepped closer, one leg pressing between both of Konig’s own until their hips were touching. Konig let in a quickened breath as he felt a shape pressing to his abdomen. Horangi had gotten excited.

“I . . . I didn’t either,” Konig mumbled, pressing the cloth harder to his face in an effort to hide his embarrassment. Feeling his rushing blood start to pump south. “It wasn’t until you left that I realised.”

Horangi let out a soft hum, tilting his head slightly as he watched Konig for a moment. Watching as he breathed into his shirt. A shirt he had been wearing all day and that he had dirtied with sweat.

“Well, next time, tell me. I’ll leave some clothes behind for you.”

Konig’s eyes brightened, the ice-cold blue eyes so pretty Horangi did not dare look away. “Y-You would do that? For me?”

“Of course,” Horangi said, not helping but smiling. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”

Konig’s heart ached as if it had grown with each affirmation Horangi gave him. At this point, he was worried it was going to burst out of his chest. The pain of it, to the joy of it, made his eyes sting again. Before he knew it, tears were dribbling down his cheeks.

“I-I-I thought . . . I thought you might . . . Might think it weird.” Konig mumbled with a trembling, weeping voice.

“Not at all!” Horangi immediately reassured. Reaching up and cupping Konig’s face between his hands, pulling him away from the shirt. Horangi felt adoration swell in his chest as he beheld him. Eyes glittering with glistening tears, lips trembling and cheeks blotching red. If it were not for the fact that Konig was in distress, he would consider making Konig cry more often. He looked so beautiful. So perfect.

Horangi pushed himself up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Konig’s lips, enjoying the sharp but snotty inhalation of breath through the other man’s nose. Konig’s free hand reached out to hold him close as he reciprocated, Horangi not minding when he tasted the salt of Konig’s tears between their lips.

In fact, it excited him. Aroused him, even.

Horangi pulled his lips away, licking his lips to savour the taste. Seeing the wet tracks down Konig’s cheeks he sprung into action. Kissing at each of Konig’s eyelids, happy to feel Konig almost melt a little in his hands. He then dashed his tongue out and licked the tear trails. Only a little disturbed when he felt himself harden at the tang of salt.

Pulling away, Horangi allowed Konig to bury his face once more into the shirt in his hand. His eyes still visible and wide as they looked at him.

“You know, I think it’s hot actually.”

“R-Really?”

Horangi nodded in affirmation his small smile only faltering for a moment before he said, “It also gives me an idea.”

. . .

Konig was still leaning against the set of drawers. His left hand shakily holding onto the edge of the furniture as his knees grew weaker by the moment, his right still forever holding Horangi’s donated shirt to his face. Gasping in air that smelled of him.

His eyes casted down to watch what was happening below.

Horangi was on his knees, hands on either of Konig’s hips and his mouth around Konig’s cock. Just as he had imagined it.

Konig whined as Horangi pulled his mouth off with a ‘pop’ and licked at the head, divoting into the slit. His eyes crinkled when he heard just how much Konig was enjoying himself.

He took Konig’s cock again into his mouth, nose flaring for breaths as he did. Struggling to accommodate but still making room as Konig went past his tongue and down his throat. Letting out a faint groan as he felt the shaft twitch, only making Horangi all the harder.

Horangi’s head began to move, his lips dragging up and down Konig’s shaft. Coating the shaft in his saliva as he did. Konig’s eyes closed in pleasure for a moment before opening again, Horangi feeling smug to know he wanted to watch.

His pace quickened as he grew used to Konig’s size down his throat, although his jaw did start to ache. But Horangi gladly ignored it, as it was worth it to see Konig creep closer and closer to orgasm.

Horangi could see it coming near. See it in how the great expanse of Konig’s chest rippled with shiver after shiver and breath after shaky breath. He could feel it on his tongue, the veins on the shaft twitching as it strained not to finish too soon. He could hear it in Konig’s noises, going from intermittent to often, not growing louder but rather shakier and higher in pitch.

“Sheisse,” Konig’s muffled voice swore. “I-I’m close, Horangi . . . I-I hah- I’m almost there.”

His head then rolled back, shirt still bunched to his mouth and nose. Coming to the precipice, just before it all came crashing down. His eyes squeezed shut, his shoulders hunching. Konig let out one rasping breath, his lungs gasping to hold one more breath before-

A hand squeezed at his balls and the base of his cock, the warmth and bliss of Horangi’s mouth gone.

“Wha-” Konig blustered as he looked down.

Horangi was still down on his knees, hands between Konig’s knees. He must have seen the anguish and confusion in Konig’s eyes as he smiled, that hungry glitter in his gaze.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Konig whimpered in distress, hips fidgeting in frustration. His body jittery with energy from being edged.

“Get on the bed for me,” Horangi requested, getting up to his feet. “And get undressed.”

Konig did not even stop to complain. Shuffling onto the bed and stripping, careful not to aggravate his painfully hard cock. Horangi was soon with him, the rest of his clothes already forgotten on the floor.

“Get comfortable,” Horangi said as he climbed up ontop of him, settling down down on his knees on either side of Konig’s legs. “I’m gonna ride you.”

Konig was happy to hear but still spoke, “B-But don’t you need to prep? We have not done it in so long.”

Horangi let out a huff of a laugh, “Oh please, what do you think I was getting up to on my mission? I had so much free time while I was away.”

Konig felt his aching cock twitch at the thought. Horangi missing Konig. Missing Konig being inside him. So much so he had fingered himself just to satiate the urge. Perhaps thinking of him as he did it, calling out his name even though he was not there to hear it. Konig would have to remember this conversation for later.

In the meanwhile, Horangi had poured lube onto Konig’s cock. The cool liquid a soothing balm for his aroused agitation but even more greatful when Horangi’s hand took him in a soft grip. Spreading the lube up and down, perhaps giving him a few more delicious strokes before leaving him again.

Horangi only looked back for a moment to ensure he was lined up right before facing to lock eyes with Konig. Bright, cold blue and dark, warm brown. The former looked balefully onwards, while the latter stared back ravenous. Both of them squeezing closed as Horangi took Konig’s generous size in one move. Konig whined as Horangi let out a grateful sigh as they settled. Their eyes opening once more and holding the others gaze.

Horangi lifted himself up again experimentally, Konig assisting by holding a hand at his hip to keep him steady. Mourning the loss of heat and tightness of Horangi’s insides for only a moment more before Horangi sat straight down again. Forcing a gasp out of Konig.

With that Horangi created an exquisite but agonizing rhythm, dragging Koing’s cock out deliberately slow before falling down in one snap. Skin slapping as Konig could only gasp. The hand on his hip weakly squeezing while the other kept Horangi’s shirt close.

Horangi’s cock bobbed unattended as he rode Konig. Ignored by Horangi, who knew full well he could finish with just Konig's cock alone, given time.

Konig was very clearly reaching his end again, his eyes only just managing to stay open as he struggled for air. Horangi was not going to allow this.

Ceasing his movements and sitting flatly on Konig’s cock, he ignored the mourning whimper from his lover to lean over the larger man. He placed one of his hands over the lower half of Konig’s face over the shirt. Stifling Konig’s already out-of-pace breaths. Konig did not object, his now unoccupied hand going to Horangi’s other hip. His eyes were pleasingly pitiful as he waited for Horangi to continue. And Horangi opted to not keep him waiting.

Changing plans, Horangi now ground down on Konig’s cock. Knees steady on the bed and hips rolling back and fro, bringing great pleasure to the both of them. Horangi groaning as Konig’s cock pushed against a spot he favoured inside.

This time, Horangi did not take his time. His hips grinding on Konig’s cock mercilessly, making the bed they lay on creak with each movement. All the while, Horangi’s hand held strongly at his face. Allowing air to still filter through the fabric but barely, smothering Konig with only Horangi’s scent surrounding him.

Konig felt pure pleasurable euphoria as his chest needed air enough to ache. The strain being so much that tears began to well up in his eyes.

Horangi smiled, almost smug if he were not so far gone himself.

“Fuck,” He gasped, eyes etching over what little of Konig’s face he could see. “God, you’re so beautiful when you cry.” Horangi bit his bottom lip, his own cock twitching in warning of his impending end. “You make the prettiest faces when you cry . . . Hah- It makes me want to make you cry ngh- more often.”

Konig only groaned, upper body stretching and arching. To Horangi’s sick joy, the tears fell and wet the shirt.

Konig was close again, so close. He wanted it to end but didn’t. The pleasure of Horangi riding him into oblivion and the pain to struggle for breath brought such elation. His mind near to thoughtlessness apart from the pure want for Horangi.

Horangi was a sight to behold, even in Konig’s exfixated state. Weak but visible smile, ears tinted pink and forehead wet with sweat.

“Cum for me, Konig.” Horangi rasped, riding Konig’s cock like his life depended on it. Like if he did not, it would all end. “Go on. Inside. I don’t mind.”

Konig whined and whimpered below, his head rolling from side to side but eyes never leaving Horangi’s. The shirt was moistened not just by tears but saliva, his mouth now open and begging for air.

“I want to feel it inside. Give it to me. Go on. Be good for me.”

It was not a moment after that Konig came. Muscles seizing and toes curling. His eyes rolling to the back of his head as orgasmic rapture overcame him, forcing more tears to fall from his eyes.

Horangi was so close that all he needed was to see Konig, pathetic and wretched as he is, cum. To feel Konig twitch inside him as he spilled his seed. Now only needing a few more rolls of his hips before he too came. His cock spurting cum out in rivulets onto Konig’s bare and pale stomach.

Horangi immediately removed both his hand and shirt away from Konig’s mouth, a small bit relieved to hear the Austrian gasp gratefully for air. After which both men stilled to breathe and to come down from the highest of cloud nines.

Konig was the first to move, hands on Horangi’s hips rubbing up and down his sides as he let out a content sigh. The other man lowering to kiss either of Konig’s cheeks before he took his lips. Neither moving for a while, just savouring the pleasantness of it all.

Pulling away, Horangi smiled weakly. “I need a shower and a good night's sleep.”

“You can use my bathroom.” Konig offered, voice hopeful. “And I can go get a change of sheets and you could spend the night . . . Maybe?” The last word attached on in a vestige effort to not force Horangi.

“I’m surprised you would even asked, isn’t it a given that I’d stay?”

“Well . . . I wanted to extend the invite regardless.”

Horangi actually chuckled at that, stealing one, then two, then several short loving pecks on the lips from Konig. God, how he loved him.

#horangi #konig #korangi #konig smut #konig call of duty #horangi call of duty #konig x horangi #horangi x konig #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #mw2 #fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #smut #yaoi

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omies-odd-writing-spot · 6 months ago

Text

Lifeboat 11 Slow Morning

[Also on Ao3]

Wholesome stuffs ahead! be warned~!

Chapter Eleven:

Lana was pretty sure if there was magic, she was staring at it.

Magic was a science you did not understand yet? Right?

Lana definitely did not understand what she was seeing. Close, but not fully understanding how it worked, and Sesa admitted to not knowing more than the basics of ‘it stores energy.’ She was very careful not to touch the wide rock in the inset of the table she was sitting beside. It was some sort of wood, but carved not twenty minutes ago by the giant woman. Simple and more desk like, with two thick solid legs on either side instead of thinner four legs designs. Big enough that Lana could sit or stand beside it, mostly because the top was in two levels. Likely from how the wood was cut. It made an interesting half table, half countertop with each half being several feet long and wide. The lower section beside the ‘step’ had a curved bowl-like section that was filled with some black sand from the main cooking area. The wide, foot or so ‘chip’ of almost shale like rock resting on that, and producing heat seemingly from nowhere.

“Should I make you a better table?” Sesa offered from where she was standing in front of the cooking stove top on the other side of the sink from Lana.

“It’s working,” Lana assured, examining the clay dishes that came from the store. If she remembered right, it was the store owner’s daughter that made them? They were a pretty light blue color, but had multi blue speckles all over on the inside and outside with the glaze. It was about the size of a large cake pan to Lana, in a rough rectangle shape with rounded edges. Without any other cooking pans, she had it on top of the ‘heat stone’ as Sesa explained to heat up.

Where the other, slightly too big clay and wood dishes came from Lana was not sure, but she had used a few to get some of the butter and oil from Sesa. It was a bit awkward to reach into an offered, gigantic dish, and bowl to get the things. Lana wondered if she could make a set of dishes a bit better, or how long that would take to do.

Thankfully she had a few small utensils in her bag, from the lifeboat ration packets. As well as a few leftover chopsticks from the day of the fairy and just having a bad habit of hoarding them in her backpack. They were at least clean, and even if the other utensils were plastic it was something.

“You asked for sweetener? Sugar?” Sesa’s voice spoke up again, looking over at the spot on the counter that was now for Lana’s set up. Tilting her head to watch the bitta cutting up one of the berries from the day before.

Lana looked up, brightening up, “Yes please!”

Sesa could not help but smile, looking down at the tan colored sugar in its container. Paused and then picked up a spoon to scoop some and offer near the tiny table. Sesa still thought she could do better, but was noticing how Lana was using the upper section to organize the full cups and bowls. The bitta was picking up one of the empty cups from the Weaver’s home that SEsa took to make it look like a bitta had…come.

Wow, her habits were going to be confusing, with a real bitta around.

Lana was walking over and carefully filling one of the wooden bowls with the sugar. The human had to pick up the crystals and stack them in the bowl really, looking a bit confused then impressed. Lana held up one of the larger crystals, amazed as she held it to the light from the nearest window looking at the shimmering golden tan color that was mostly transparent. “Wow… I didn’t know sugar could have crystals as big as this.”

“Yeah?” Sesa blinked, looking again at the spoon and what lana was picking out, “Oh, I did not process this bag, it’ll have different sizes. All done?”

“Yep!” Lana looked at her heaping bowl of the assorted big sugar crystals. She giggled and walked back to the back to her table. “It shouldn't be hard to break down.”

Sesa stared at the spoon for a moment, then had an idea. Putting the spoon in the sweetener container. “I have an Idea… I don’t through away several things… here you stay here.”

Lana tilted her head, puzzled, but shrugged as she watched Sesa walk away from the ‘stovetop’ in the counter and walked to one of the buffet-like hutches along the wall. One looked to have some dishes and other such cooking things like. It was closer to the counter and where Sesa had pulled a pan out of. The second had what looked like different storage containers, and Sesa reached up into the top cabinet shelf, pulling down a sanded and oiled stained wooden crate. Much smaller than the one from the boat, the clinking of glass inside had Lana's attention and curiosity.

“What's that?”

Sesa chuckled as she came back, setting the box down by the sink and then checked her own pan. The butter inside was melting but not fully ready. Turning back, Sesa picked up a few of the smallest of the glass jars inside, a little bit dusty but the inside was clean as she showed the Bitta. “So, I come across a decent amount of wishboats. Some put goodies inside instead of a letter, like shiny shells, rocks or some of these. Little jars used in the bigger towns and cities.”

Lana hesitated before daring to come over, though she had her spare shorts on and her own swimsuit on, it felt weird walking around. Or rather walking around on someone else's countertop with a swimsuit instead of clothes that were drying in the sun on the table. Not that Sesa seemed to mind or notice so likely it was just her own hangups. Lana looked at what was offered, picking up what looked like a big fancy jar at a craft store.

It was about a foot tall and wide for Lana and made of a clear, slightly blue tinted glass. With a glass lid that sat over the top and would twist a bit, but that was now partly between Sesa's fingers. The jar is just slightly oblong, like it was handmade.

Finger-made?

Lana bit back the giggles and set the jar down, taking the other two from Sesa's hand and looked them over. One was about the same size, the other a little taller. It reminded her of those little single surviving jars of jam and honey from some restaurants.

“Maybe you can use them to store some dry stuff your size?” Sesa offered, thought for a moment and added, “Your size… stores… flour is the same- ah… so you have something and not depend on me? For everything that is.”

The tiny Bitta looked up, watching the bigger woman before grinning and laughed. Covered her mouth, before gathering herself and grinned, “I think I know what you mean. This is a good idea, not that I have a lot of things any more, but cooking on my own is nice.”

“I was thinking,” Sesa set a few jars down and used one that did not have a lid to scoop some of the cake batter from her bowl. Made sure it did not have any big drippings before setting it on the lower section of Lana’s current table. Sesa snorted, “I’ve been having to think a lot more than normal really, this last day.”

“Tell me about it,” Lana agreed in a low voice to herself, daring to taste the batter. Not moving to cook it though as she gathered up the peach slices to put in the pan. Looking up to show that she was still listening to Sesa though, even as she picked up one of the crystals of sugar. Getting a nice solid seeming ‘cup’ and one of the slightly too big bowls.

“Is that crate from yesterday an okay size for you?” Sesa asked, watching how Lana was improvising the bowl and cup like a minuscule mortar and pestle. Breaking the large sugar into what seemed like a fine powder, and sprinkled it onto the cut up berry. ‘Peach’ as the bitta called it.

What was she doing?

“I guess? It's like a big high ceiling, but small store? Big room.” Lana said, using the chopsticks to help stir the fruit and get it to cook and caramelize with the sugar.

“I was thinking, I can move a few things and attach the lid, make a door. Would it be okay for you to have your own space?” Sesa asked, starting to make her own cakes on her pan. It felt nice to talk and cook with someone else around, not exactly like when John was there. He liked to cook with Sesa but at the same time with the damage to his vocal cords the man was not inclined to talk a lot, but did like to listen.

Lana paused to look up, startled and then thought about it, turning to look over at where the crate of safety had been placed on the massive table. “Would it be safe? Okay? From here it looks like the crate takes up a lot of space.”

Sesa glanced back, “I just made it not long ago, three days ago? It wasn’t used for any fish yet. Just you’ve been in there.”

“Will it bit trouble?” Lana asked unsure.

Sesa hummed and looked down, golden eyes soft, “I can put it between some of the pots, and one on top. With the lid on it would look like a plant stand. Your door could be hidden too.”

“I kinda like that idea.” Lana thought, and then asked, “What about light?”

“I should have some little light crystals that are used in the bitta house… models. Garden houses?”

Lana giggled again, paused herself as she almost belatedly recognized what was said. “Light… crystal?”

“It’s old fashioned, like the hot rocks, but I don’t have to worry about that electric stuff.” Sesa hummed, “Long as I let the crystals recharge in daylight, its a good way to keep things lit at night. Some of the chips are small enough for you. To light what you want. We can play with it. Maybe use some of the stuff from the garden to give you rooms. Won't be hard to make something either. I have a lot of workable wood and soft stone.”

“You make it sound easy,” Lana looked up, the peach slices turning a nice dark color instead of the paper kind. She moved to get it all gathered up in a smooth wooden bowl. Getting as much juice, now syrup as she could before adding some more butter. She started to make some of the cakes herself as Lana did not feel sick from the batter. Though she had eaten the bread the day before.

“It is?” Sesa answered, “I've been making… little Bitta things for a long time. And it's… fun to make small things when in down time. More so in winter. It might not be exactly what you're used to though.”

Lana thought of the fairy garden decorations she regularly saw in craft stores. “That's fine, and from what little I saw from the table, in those pots, it looked cute.”

“You're not bothered?” Sesa asked but seemed relieved.

“A hobby is a hobby,” Lana shrugged, honestly it that bothered now that she linked it to the fairy gardens. “It doesn't seem like you're hurting anyone as far as I can tell.”

“Do you have any hobbies?” Sesa asked, wondering to herself what Lana did to the berry and sugar. It did not look like a jam exactly.

“Mostly around plants. Getting cuttings from trees to root and grow is fun.” Lana paused as she thought about it, she did like landscaping now. “I like… liked going on some hikes, seeing what animals and plants I can identify. I used to also go foraging with friends but we didn't do it last fall because of finals.”

“I've gotten good at foraging,” Sesa chuckled, but did not expand on it.

“Yet there's a ton of corn growing wild,” Lana grinned up, some of those bigger ones are… hot damn the kernels from those are almost as big as my pinky! You could use them like rice. Others seemed fresh, like they grew decent, others were dried? How they did that in the same plant is fascinating!”

Sesa laughed softly, pausing to give the Bitta an amused expression. Not fully understanding all that was said, the words yes, but terms? References to kernels and…corn… “What is rice?”

Lana gasped, looking up, almost missing to flip her little drop sized cakes. “You don't have rice? It's…it's like a whole seed, really good in half of every food dish I know. This is weird…”

“Whole seeds…. Like grain seeds?” Sesa asked, giving her pan an experimental shake to see how the cakes were cooking and if they would slide yet. Look around the giant woman reached for a small jar to the side of the sink and set it near but not right beside Lana. “Like these? I sometimes find whole seeds in the flour.”

Lana stared, looking puzzled as she started to step over. Remembered what she was doing and got her sized cakes in a bowl-plate. Then she moved to look inside the jar through the tinted glass. Marveling at the, to her, massive seeds that were at least the size of her own hand. It would be about grain or rice size to the giant, as wheat was to Lana. “This… is a grain?”

“One of… two? Three?” Sesa paused, “I think there's three. I never got a chance to grow them. What's here is just what I found in the flour, not sure they can sprout.”

“They don’t look bad,” Lana tilted her head back and forth as she studied what could be done through the glass. The lid was just that bit too heavy for Lana to move on her own, and at a sound from above, backed up to let Sesa lift the heavy chunk of glass that was the lid. As it was set aside, and the giant woman turned back to her pan again, Lana reached in. Just able to lift one of the seeds out to look over, sniffing it and inspecting the massive thing.

“Judgment?” Sesa asked, chuckling as she plated up her pancakes. Looking for the bigger jar for the honey.

“I think they can sprout, they don’t smell rancid or seem bad,” Lana hummed, setting the seed back in the ‘little’ jar almost as tall as she was. Lana really had to fight the cat-like instinct to want to see what she could fit into now in this gigantic place.

“Everything cooked?” Sesa asked, looking at the little table and seeing how Lana nodded, “Lets eat before getting your area set up, and make some furniture for you, today.”

“That sounds like a plan!” Lana smiled, trying to be positive as she dumped the caramelized fruit into the bigger curved plate. She blinked as a massive hand was held mostly flat for Lana, still needing a moment to brace herself, carefully climbing on the hand. “This is so strange.”

“Mhm,” Sesa agreed, trying her damned best to keep both hands steady, one with the bitta, the other her breakfast.

#omie's writing #lifeboat story #Sesa and Lana #Lana and Sesa #they're trying to sort stuff out #sfw gt #GT

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blackhakumen · 11 months ago

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Mini Fanfic #1180: Strolling Down the "Wedding" Lane #2: Rosegarden (RWBY)

???? Unknown Area.........

After suddenly falling down from a planted trap floor from a few floors up above, in a last ditch effort, Oscar took this opportunity to swoop himself over and catches Ruby in his arms before both his feet lands on the solid ground below.

Oscar: GOTCHA!

'THUD'

Oscar: (Starts Panting Quite a Bit) That.....was way too close....For our own comfort.....

Ruby; (Gently Place Her Hand onto Oscar's Arm) Oscar, are you okay?

Oscar: ('Sigh in Great Relief') Yeah....I habe no idea what's going on right, but I'm glad we made it down here in one piece at leadt

Ruby: (Sighs as Well) Yeah, same here. On that note....(Happily Hugs Oscar in his Arms While Nuzzling his Cheeks with Hers and Wiggling her Legs Up and Down) My Sweet Herooooooo!!~ You're so cool and brave!~

Oscar: (Chuckles a Bit Ticklishly by his Girlfriend's Affections) Ruby, I only did what I could to try and save you. It's nothing to it than that.

Ruby: I know, but I couldn't help but be more prouder of you than I already am!~ I mean, look at you: you even did the Super Hero Landing and everything!!~

Oscar: (Looks Down to See his Knee is Laid Down on Back Side and his Foot is Down on the Front) Is that right? (Starts Getting Himself Back Up on his Two Feet) I.....somehow no-(Suddenly Felt a Small Cramp in his Knee, Causing Him to Bring it Back Down) ('Crack') Tice!

Ruby: (Immediately Gets Worried as She Jumps Off of Oscar's Arm to Go Check on Him) Oh no! Is your knee hurting you?

Oscar: Just a bit, yeah....(Sits Himself Down on the Ground) I forgot how painful it gets every time I stick to theses types of landings.......

Ruby: Yeah, it's usually get hard on your knees a bit. Now, hold still for a bit. (Sticks Both of her Habds Out, Creating a Red Light In Front of Oscar's Knee)

Oscar: (Eyes Widened a Bit as He Recognizes the Form Ruby's Making) Wait, you can heal now?

Ruby: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly) Kinda? Jaune's been teaching me how to do Heaking Aura as of late, but I'm still a little rusty.....How is your knee's feeling right now?

Oscar: (Felt his Knee Slowly but Surely Healing Up to it's Regular, Functioning Self) A lot better actually, thanks. But....you know I could've done this myself, right?

Ruby: Yeah, but I wanted to return the favor. You got my back, I got yours, remember? (Lend a Hand to Oscar)

Oscar: (Stares at Ruby For a Brief Second Before Smiling Back and Happily Nodded in Agreement) Right. (Takes Ruby's Hand Let her Help Him Back Up on his Feet Before Looking Around the Pitched Black Area) Where are we?

Ruby: ('Sigh') That's what I wanna know. That host guy has been making us do that dumb Couple's Questionaire Challenge for twelves straight minutes and he just dropped us in here outta nowhere like that? (Crosses her Arms Together While Pouting) Is this some kinda elaborate their pulling? Cause I'm NOT giggling in the slightest!

Oscar: Or a trap waiting to get us when we least expected.('Sigh') I knew we should've brought our weapons with us before taking participating in that dumb game.....But either way we can't afford to let our guards down for even a second, with or without th-

The sound of all the lights getting turned on one by one was loud enough to ring the couple's eardrums in surprise as they turn their attention to the room now revealing itself to have blue, aurora filled skies, flower filled field, a vine carrying a portrait from the ceiling, and a road with a few sets of heart shaped wooden tunnels going up ahead, while the sound of organs suddenly starts playing out of nowhere, much to their dumbfounded surprise.

Oscar: ...........You know what? Nevermind. Maybe this is a prank after all......

Ruby: What....are we even looking at right now?

???: This, my friends.

The sudden mechanical sounding voice spooked Ruby well enough to make her quickly hug her boyfriend's arm while shaking a bit.

Mechanical Voice: Happens to be the destination you have finally arrived to.

Oscar: (Raises an Eyebrow) What kind of destination exactly?

Ruby: Yeah, you invisible jerkwad! (Angrily (And Shakingly) Points at the Air) Tell us what's going on right now and I won't have smash your dumb face in!....W-Whereever you are!!

Mechanical Voice: Patience, my friends.

Ruby: Who says anything about us bring your friend!?

Mechanical Voice: This sacred destination is where two lovers who met their destined partners, discuss their love for each other. What could be waiting up ahead?

Oscar: (Looks Over to the Road Ahead of Him and Ruby) That can't be our only way out.....can it?

Ruby: Hold that thought.

Ruby lets go of Oscar's arm and uses her semblance to dash her way to the other side of the room before coming straight back a few seconds later.

Ruby: (Starts Panting a Bit While Bending her Upper Body Down Close to her Knees) I.....can't find.....a single exit......around.....this....stupid place! (Sits Herself Down on the Ground) It's like an endless void or something.......

Mechanical Voice: In order to find out what lies ahead, you must step forth, hand-in-hand and embrace what this particular road will have in store of both of you going forward. Now, please step forth.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Well, that answers all that. Forward we go I guess. (Turns to Ruby) You feeling okay there, Rubes?

Ruby: Yeah. (Gets Herself Back Up on her Feet) Had to catch my breath for a second there. Now then.....(Grab Hold of Oscar's Hand) Shall we go forth, hand-in-hand, my good sir?~ (Forms Bright, Cheeky Grin on her Face)

Oscar: (Stares at Ruby For a Brief Second Before Snickering) You are such a dork, you know that?~ (Starts Walking Forth Along with Ruby)

Ruby: (Chuckles Lightly) Hey, you fell in love with one~ Besides, don't act like you don't have your dorky moments too, mister. (Forms a Teasing Smirk) Remember that sweet love song you sang a while back? A kiss from a rose perhaps?~

Oscar: (Rolls his Eyes a Bit) I was hoping to forget about that one, thanks......And hey, wait a minute. (Glares at Ruby) You sang a son about me afterwards!

Ruby: Yeah, but it wasn't even remotely close as being as romantic as yours, with that nice, angelic singing voice of yours.

Oscar: (Starts Blushing While Turning Away and Rubbing his Head) You're being too modest here....Your song was nice too, albeit short, and you're singing isn't bad ei-(Eyes Slowly Starts to Widened at What is in Front of Him and Ruby) therrrrrrrrrrrrrr.......

Ruby: Oscar, what's- (Eyes Starts Widening Up as Well) wrrrrrOOOOONNNNG!!!?

The couple's shocked face speaks volumes as they witnessed a golden portrait of Ruby dressed in a dark red wedding dress, carrying Oscar, wearing a green tux, in her arms,

Mechanical Voice: Here, you will see the bride and groom's joyous commemorative photograph of their undying love and passion for one another.

Oscar: (Almost at a Loss For Words) ........Your kidding.

Ruby: (Places her Hands on Both Sides of her Head in Complete Disbelief) WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!? How? When? Why!? What kind of constant makes you answer a bunch questions, brings you down here with a trapped floor, and flat out assume you want to get hitch!? This doesn't make any lick of SENSE!!! AT ALL!!! .(Continues Ranting On)

Starting to notice something was off, Oscar walks himself over towards the picture to take a closer look. It took him thirteen and a half seconds later to find a few details before turning back to his distressed girlfriend.

Oscar: Hey, Ruby. Ruby!

Ruby: (Immediately Stops her Ranting and Gives Oscar his Attention) Yeah?

Oscar: Come over here for a second. Take a look at this. (Watches Ruby Walk Herself to The Picture Frame Before Turning Back to It) Notice something odd about all of this look? Like how big both our heads are compared to our bodies?

Ruby: (Starts Taking a Closer Look at The Picture Herself) Yeah......Our heads does look better in this......('Gasps') And they don't remotely blend in with the bodies at all!! (Turns to Oscar with an Angry Look on her Face) Those jerks photoshopped us!!

Oscar: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Photoshopped?

Ruby: It's where they take a photo part of you and try altering and editing it into another one, hoping it could blend into the other photo's background. (Crosses her Arms) And they did s real lousy job on that front, that's for sure!

Oscar: (Looks Back at the Fake Photo) Yeah, no kidding. It doesn't look nearly look as believable looking back at it. And why exactly are you carrying me in your arms?

Ruby: To make it stand out I guess. (Slowly Starts Smirking Again) Which reminds me~

Oscar: ('Sigh') Oh God. What is it?

Ruby: I never did get the chance to carry you bridal style. (Playfully Shrugs) Now it seems like a pretty good time for me to finally give a go, don'tcha think?~

Oscar: Ruby, we're not even close to finding our way out of here, we don't have time for this.

Ruby: (Clasps her Hands Together While Giving Oscar the Puppy Dog Eyes) Pleaseee?~ I promise it'll be quick. I'll even teach you how to execute a Raging Demon properly!

Oscar: (Raises an Eyebrow) Really?

Ruby: Really ×1000 with a cherry on top~ (Rapidly Blanking her Eyes in a Cutesy Manner)

Oscar: ('Sigh') Alright. You got yourself a-DEAL!? (Quickly Gets Scooped Up into Ruby's Arms, Bridal Style)

Ruby: Gotcha!~ Right in the neck of time too~ (Winks at her Boyfriend)

Oscar: (Playfully Rolls his Eyes) My speedy hero. You're already enjoying this, aren't you?

Ruby: (Forms a Playful, Seductive Smirk on her Face) Not as much as I'm gonna enjoy kissing that cute freckled face of yours~ (Starts Kissing Oscar's Freckled Cheeks)

Oscar: (Chuckles Ticklishly) Sheesh!~ You're in a more romantic mood than usual, Rubes. What gives?~

Ruby: (Casually Shrugs) It's Valentine's and whatnot. (Starts Pouting Again) And whaddya mean "more than usual"? I'll have you know that I have been the most romantic young woman in our lovely relationship!~

Oscar: Are you really though?~

Ruby makes a cute angry noise at Oscar, causing him to chuckle even more.

Oscar: Kidding, kidding! You're very romantic in your own cool way and I love you a lot for it. (Kiss Ruby on the Cheek)

Ruby's heart starts to melt in pure happiness as she hugs Oscar close to her before suddenly notices something from afar.

Ruby: ('Gasps') Oscar! Look! (Points Oscar Towards....) A door!

Oscar: (Eyes Widened atvthe Door in Question) You're right.....(Smiles Brightly) That might be our one ticket outta here.

Ruby: (Smiles Brightly as Well) Well, what are we waiting for? Let's Cheese it!

Ruby was about to activate her semblance until the sudden sound of the alarm Starts ringing their ears.

Mechanical Voice: Halt. Halt. You two are not permitted to use your semblance and/or run towards the door ahead.

Oscar: Seriously!?

Ruby: (Glares at the Invisible Voice) And why not!? We're halfway to the ending point, aren't we?

Mechanical Voice: Indeed you are. But this road to enlightenment is an once and lifetime experience that cannot impatiently rush. Therefore, If you and your friends wish to leave this entire facility, then I advise the both of you to continue to walk this path as originally planned.

The couple groans in defeat and pure annoyance as Ruby puts Oscar back down on his feet before continuing their tedious quest, walking on foot.

Ruby: (Starts Grumbling On) ('Groans') I swear, I wish where that voice is coming from so I could punch him in his dumb face....

Oscar: You and me both. But the closer we reach to that door, the more time we'll have find the others and leave. We can't stop now.

Ruby: Yeah, yeah.....

'A Bit of Silence'

Ruby: Hey, Oscar, can I ask you something?

Oscar: Yeah, what is it?

Ruby: Do you hate Uncle Qrow?

Oscar: (Turns to Ruby with a Bit of a Confused Look on his Face) Not....really? What makes you think that.

Ruby: Well, for starters, always look uneasy whenever you two see each other, like you're trying to avoid talking to him or something. (Rolls her Eyes a Bit) Not like he's any better in comparison......

Oscar: ('Sighs Heavily') Yeah......That's not surprising.....Considering we don't really gotten along as much as we should. (Roll his Eyes) Mostly cause of everything Ozpin related.

Ruby: ('Sigh') Of course.....So, is that one of the reasons why you two fought in Vacuo in the past?

Oscar: (Eyes Widened as He Immediately Stops Walking) Wait, how did you-

Ruby: Emerald told me about during our lunch outing the other day.

Oscar: Really. That's the third time this week you guys been hanging out this week.

Ruby: Yeah, it's been an ongoing thing we do oddly enough. (Pouts at Oscar Again) And before you say anything, NO! This doesn't automatically make the both of us friends!

Oscar: You sure? (Chuckles a Bit) Cause it kinda sounds like you are actually starting to get along for once.

Ruby: AS ASSOCIATES!! (Crosses her Arms) That doesn't mean I wanna be buddy-buddy with her of all people! She know what she did.

Oscar: And she's more than willing to pay the price for it however she can, her words. Just try and give her another chance, will ya? As rude, harsh, and smart-mouthed as she gets at times, she can also be as cool and understanding once you guys get to know her more better. Hopefully.

Ruby: I still don't trust her. ('Sigh') But I'll try and get along for you.....Now, quit stalling and tell me why you and Qrow were fighting!!

Oscar: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) Okay, so......It all started when we reached to Vauco. We all assumed you, your team, Jaune, and Penny were dead at the time, so we arranged a funeral for all of you. It was an emotionally stressful time for most of us to endure, Qrow especially.......

Ruby: (Pinches the Bridge of her Nose) Oh no......Please don't tell me he was drunk during that time.....

Oscar: ('Sigh') Unfortunately. He seemed so....out of it the moment we saw him step into the room. Laughing, crying, freaking out and throwing out anything in the room he could find.........I tried calming him down, he shoved by the shoulder, yell at me, and said, and I quote: "I am nothing but a useless, puppet meat shield, who should've fell down and died instead."

Ruby: (Eyes Widened in Shock, Couldn't Believe What She Heard Just Now) ......What?

Oscar: It's the truth. He said it right in front of face...... And it got to me. Egregiously so. I have worked my hardest to contribute to the team, to try and fix Oz's mistakes and do better by him, surived and fought the hardest I have EVER done in my life, from Ironwood, Salem, Hazel, and anyone else who stood in my way of living my life!....And to have him call me useless after all of that just....struck a nerve in me. So I punched him. More than once. He started punching me. And before either of us know it, we ended fighting until Nora, Ren, and the others was able to break us up, ending the service altogether. (Sighs While Facepalming Himself) I know we've been through a whole lot to get to that point, some of which more life-threatening than the others, but it wasn't an excusefor either of us to act that way, especially when we were suppose to mourn for our loses. I'm really sorry, Rub-

Ruby: (Immediately Hugs Oscar Tightly) No! Emotions get the better of us at times, it happens! And that's absolutely NOTHING for you to apologize for! If anyone should be doing that other than Qrow, it's me for not helping or being there for you as much as I should be. (Starts Tearing Up a Bit) Especially when I knew for a fact that you were suffering way more than the rest of us combined. ('Sniff') You didn't deserve any of that, Oscar. Not at all!

Oscar: (Frowns Sadly at the Sound of Ruby's Soft Crying) Ruby, come on. Don't say that. You've done a lot for more than you think you did.

Ruby: ('Sniff') Yeah? Like that? Not yelling at you?

Oscar: (Gently Pulls Ruby Away From Him For a Moment) You know that's not what I mean. Remember that at we were staying at the dojo and I got so worked up over everything that's been going on with and Oz?

Ruby: Yeah. (Wipes the Tears Away) ('Sniff') You seemed so mad....and scared.

Oscar: (Simply Nodded) I was. But that pep talk you gave me about how i should keep fighting and moving forward, it inspired me a lot since: to be better, stronger, and more brave than I've ever been growing up. (Let's Out a Soft Chuckle) Heck, if anything, I highly doubt I would be standing here right now if I never took any of the advice you've given me since then, to heart. You've been an inspiration to me from the very beginning, Ruby Rose, and it makes me love you even more than I do before, believe it or not.

Ruby: (Heart Starts Melting in Happiness Again) You're real inspiration to me too, you know?

Oscar: I am? Really?

Ruby: (Giggles Softly While Hugging Oscar Again) Yes, really, you big dumb-dumb!~ You inspired me to keep going, make more better choices, be a better leader, a better person even. And be makes me so, so happy to meet abd eventually fall in love with someone as sweet, brave, and, wonderful like you in my life. I love you with every bit of fiber my heart and soul can carry, Oscar Everlynn Pine~

Oscar: (Heart Begins to Melt as Well as He Hugs His Girlfriend as Well) Likewise. And listen, please don't hold any of what happened against your uncle. What he did was completely uncalled for, but I can tell it was because of how heartbroken he was of losing his only two nieces, you and Yang.

Ruby: I'm not happy with what he did to you at all and I will DEFINITELY have a talk with him the next time we see each other again. ('Sigh') Buuuuuut I suppose I'll try not to be too mad at him IF you give lots of cuddles later on today~ (Smirks at her Farm Boi)

Oscar: (Smirks Back) Give me a Valentine's kiss and you got yourself a deal.

Ruby: (Places her Hand onto Oscar's Cheek) Done and done~

Ruby leans in to kiss Oscar until something flew over towards the white door in blazing, startling the duo into hugging one another as they turn to see a man I'm a black suit slowly sliding down off the door, groaning in immense pain.

Ruby: What in the-

????: RUBY! OSCAR!

The duo turns to see two very familiar faces making their way towards them.

Ruby: ('Gasps') Yang!~

Oscar: Emerald!

Yang: (Rushes Over to Hug Both Ruby and Oscar) You two had us so worried....Are you okay?

Ruby: Yeah, we good. (Happily Hugs her Big Sister) Even more so now that you're here!~

Oscar: How were you two able to get down here?

Emerald: We ran down the stairs. Like five to six of them in total I think? Anyways, he had to chase down the dumbass over there before he could get away. (Points the Duo Back to the Man Knocked Out)

Yang: Yeah, turns out him and his little friends upstairs were pulling the strings of this little Couple's Questionaire charade just try and throw us off courses to what their scheming. (Smiles Brightly) Luckily, everyone else are handling the rest of those punks as we speak.

Meanwhile in the Third Floor

Nora: (Glaring and Tightening Up her Mangchild Dangerously at the Rest of the Shaking Suited Men Tied Up, With Everyone Else Ominously Glaring at Them in the Background) I'm getting REAL of sick playong the silent game right now.....If you idiots don't quit your shaking, cut the bullshit, and tell us where have you sent my baby and his girlfriend RIGHT NOW, you six are going feel each and everyone of our WRATHS in the next thirty seconds!

Pyrrha: (Hovering Multiple Swords in the Air, Pointing the Blades Down at the Terrified Culprits) Start. Talking.

Back at the Bottom Floor

Emerald: It's a good thing the two us came down as quickly as we could. (Forms a Small, Playful Smirk on her Face) We can't have you two lovebirds go in and elope on us now.

Ruby: (Pouts at Emerald) Oh will you hush!? We're not dumb enough to fall for this stupid trap completely!

Yang: (Starts Smirking as Well) You sure? Cuz that picture frame we saw kind of says otherwiseeee~

Oscar: (Gives the Two Older Ladoes a Deadpinned Look on his Face) It's a photoshopped picture, Yang. (Turns Away While Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Though, I do think that.....(Starts Blushing a Bit) Ruby does look pretty cute in that red dress. She's looks better in that frame than I do actually.

Yang: (Forms a Proud Grin) Of course!~ My baby sister can rock any dress she wears perfectly! But don't short, lil bro. (Playfully Pulls One Side of Oscar's Cheek) I think you would look pretty damn handsome in that suit~

Ruby: (Playfully Pulls on Oscar's Other Cheek) Right?~ My precious farm boi will be the most handsomest man in our very own wedding!~

Oscar: (Already Annoyed) Stooooooop......(Notices a Emerald Holding her Scroll Right I'm Front of Him and the Sisters) Really?

Emerald: Oh don't mind me. Just capturing the cuteness is all. Probably use it as blackmail or something later down the road.

Oscar: I hate all of you.

Emerald: No you don't.

Oscar: ('Sigh') I don't. I love you all a lot actually.

Emerald: Love you too, handsome.

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@maripr

@oscarpineprotectionsquad

@miki-13

@littlemisssquiggles

#rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #qrow (mentioned)#humor #cute romance #angst #rosegarden #valentine's month #“the big day”#again all of this is heavily inspired by the special big day event that happened in person q #edited

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