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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 8 months ago

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not me updating this post (it's more likely than you'd think)

Dust and debris spread like a fine mist through the air.

Harry can see the storefront across from him. The window’s glass has large looping letters, their outline gilded and just catching what little light shines through the smoke clouds, but he can hardly make out the words. He feels so dizzy.

What’s going on?

At first the world is straight, if a little blurry, and then it is not. He’s tilting—no, falling—Harry is falling; he’s been pushed, shoved? The culprit is running off somewhere into the smog, and he catches himself with his hand on the brick behind him. He thinks it must hurt but can’t really feel it.

There’s definitely something going on here, Harry nods almost to encourage himself. And he’s sure of it because, even though it‘s painful to look at (now that he’s seen it - he can’t stop staring), spellfire is sparking up and down the alley. Probably a fight, but who’s fighting? And - what’s that?

A large chunk of rubble, he realises. Then he corrects himself—chunks.

Oh.

They make an impressive line through all this dust and whatnot to the point where things actually seem visible. And now that he’s sort of able to see and mostly paying attention, Harry’s noticing that the chunks aren’t coming from nearby buildings; they aren’t falling from the sky.

He watches, brows raised, as the ground a bit off in the distance breaks, cracks, and almost crumbles out of itself. The massive stone tears straight up and away, shooting at harrowing speeds towards—something, Harry’s certain. Their mass is being used as projectiles.

Woah, he thinks and hopes he says it out loud because whoever’s doing that needs to hear this, now that’s wicked. The magical strength required to do that must be enormous, but judging by their wavering and almost wild flinging energy, it lacks in any refinement or skill. Whoever is doing that is desperate. Scared. So, not wicked, probably.

Harry’s tempted to find the poor bastard and give them a pat on the back, maybe take them out for a pint. Hell, he could use one right about now. He’s feeling pretty desperate and—well, maybe not scared—but definitely confused, too.

Which brings him back to: What’s going on?

Waking up in the middle of an ongoing fight is what Harry had been expecting; what he hadn’t been expecting is waking up in the middle of what looks like Diagon Alley if he squints a bit and tilts his head to the left.

Deciding he’s overstayed his wall welcome, Harry straightens up, cautiously keeping his hand on the brick for steadying. He dusts himself off rather pointlessly and gives his Auror robes a quick pat down. No wand.

That’s a problem. Nothing he can’t work around, but it’s a problem long term. Thankfully, he isn’t out of practice with wandless spellwork, but it vastly limits what he can do to lend a hand with whatever the hell is going on here.

And he’ll really have to lend a hand and get out of here as quickly as possible. Ron is no doubt losing his mind with worry, and they still have to take care of some rouge wizards reaping havoc on a small wizarding community in Alfriston. If Harry really is in Diagon, he’s a long way away from there, so time is of the essence.

Seriously, what happened anyway? What did that wizard throw at him?

It occurs to Harry then that he should probably give more attention to the wizards currently throwing things at him because one of those large pieces of rubble abruptly interrupts his train of thought and sightline. He gathers whatever magic he can and prepares to apparate away from its path, but—

Nothing.

He tries again. And again. It’s getting closer.

Then on his fourth attempt he feels something grating against his skin and realises—anti-apparition wards.

Something is not only going on… but is very wrong.

Harry’s eyes widen, and he ducks, rolling out of the way and further into the street. The world continues rolling even when he stops, vertigo crashing over him all too suddenly and forcing him to catch his breath; Merlin, Harry feels like he’s dying.

He only gets this way after portkey travel or long-distance flooing—how he got here does not agree with him at all. And watching as that stone impacts the shop window he stared at earlier, Harry startles at another simple revelation.

He can’t hear.

He takes a deep breath and coughs, tries again until he feels calmer and doesn’t choke with every lung full. He can hear, but it isn’t anything substantial, only a low-volume, high-pitched ringing noise that echoes around in his head. He feels nearly delirious. And a bit like he’s going to be sick.

Mindlessly, Harry steps back and out of the way of a nasty-looking violet spell, its shade almost neon. He takes a moment to assess his body more carefully.

Fingers, toes—check. All limbs, head is on straight, joints are bending the right way—he’s perfectly fine. He doesn’t feel any major injuries but forces a pitifully weak healing charm from within - out. He’s shit at wandless healing even though everyone swears otherwise, so it doesn’t ease up the nausea, but it does fix his hearing.

He almost wishes it hadn’t.

Screaming louder than banshee cries, whizzing spells, explosions echoing, the dull droning of the wards, buildings breaking, shouts, crying, pleading—the world is so much louder than Harry is expecting, and he flinches, holds his hands against his ears at the onslaught.

It takes some time, more than he wants to tolerate, and a few more close calls with ugly spells, but when Harry finally gets his bearings, he jumps into the fray.

It’s hardly a thought to magic away most of the debris in the air, and with it gone, he takes in his surroundings. His head whips back and forth, taking stock of what’s newly visible. Harry’s unsure where to begin and who to ask for an explanation of what is even happening. He can’t spot any familiar Aurors, but there are definitely people scattered about in uniforms…

Harry nearly pauses at that. Yes, there are definitely people dressed in uniforms. Ones that are dark and black and flow like ink and look eerily familiar, and others that look strikingly like Sirius’s old—

“HELP!”

Harry’s eyes unerringly find the source of that scream—a young woman clutching a child.

Their backs are up against the broken remains of a side alley, and her body is trying to cover the kid, hide them, to the best of her ability. A wizard in dark robes blocks their only way out, wand held stiffly in a tight grip - it’s pointed straight at them.

Harry’s already moving, but his eyes squint, disoriented as he catches the unmistakable glimmer of silver reflecting off sunlight from the side of the wizard’s face. And this does make him pause. It makes him pause just long enough to feel and humour the stomach-swooping horror of recognition—of wrongness—that sight causes.

It’s certainly a good thing that Harry has gotten to be so proficient at pushing down and sealing away horrors of all types and that he continues to be fast on his feet, quick on the draw. Helpful, too, that his wandless stupefy is still in top form.

The wizard crumples to the ground, and Harry’s assist goes unnoticed in all the chaos. Yet the woman finds his eyes anyway, obviously having noticed him earlier, maybe even calling out for Harry specifically. She peers up at him, relieved and overwhelmingly grateful, but stares for a beat too long.

And Harry, long used to prolonged stares, gives her no mind. He quickly comes over to help escort her and the child somewhere safer. She mutters something as he lifts the mute kid into his arms, their eyes wide and blinking. Harry balances them mostly on his left - his right hand holding their back steady, but he wants to keep it free to cast just in case.

“What was that?” Harry asks while waiting for the kid to get comfortable and finish tightly wrapping their arms around his neck. He releases his hold on their back once they settle, and he takes a gentle but resolute hold on the woman to help guide her out of the alley and any direct fire.

She’s shaking violently, but when she repeats herself, her voice is more confident—louder. “I- I didn’t know you had become an Auror, James. I thought you only g-graduated this summer?” She asks.

For a moment, only a moment, all of Harry’s battle-hardened instincts fall away.

He feels his shoulders drop from their tense hold, and he—he just can’t believe what he’s heard. She doesn’t look anywhere close to his parents’ ages had they still been alive, even by wixen ageing standards. Really, she looks much closer to Harry’s age, maybe a couple of years older, give or take. They had probably gone to Hogwarts together for a while, so then why—

Why does she think he’s his father? James, she called Harry, like they are friendly. Like they know each other.

Shock. Harry can excuse this as shock. He sorely wants to, but that feeling of wrongness is rearing its ugly head once again.

So he decides not to say anything at all. Harry stays quiet and focused. He stuns anyone suspicious they come across and brings them both to a mostly unharmed shop out of the way with a blessedly working floo connection in a warded office in the back.

The kid gives him a big hug before they leave, still mute, still blinking with wide eyes, and the woman turns to Harry, puts one hand on his arm, squeezes him once and says, “Stay safe, James.”

He watches them leave.

Breathe, Harry, he tells himself. And it almost works because he can hear the wet gasp and feel his chest move up and down with it. Yet he remains breathless, his mind whirring and unable to catch a thought long enough to actually think—until his feet start moving.

Harry exits the building and, with a clarity he doesn’t truly feel, rounds the corner. He’s confident that Twilfitt and Tattings should be just here, only a few feet away. When he arrives at the distinct shop front, still standing on what Harry can only guess is unadulterated rich-pureblood spite, the store looks nothing like the clothing shop he’s seen hundreds of times before.

Unsettled but always willing to take a gamble, Harry sticks to the edges of the alley and makes his way further up Diagon, closer to Horizont. He avoids bouncing spells and crumpled bodies and casts when he has to all the way until he spots the familiar sign of Ollivanders.

With careful hesitation and a churning deep in his gut, Harry tries something with no small amount of hysteria. He holds up his hand right before the shattered glass of Ollivanders’s main window and says:

“Accio Harry Potter’s wand.”

Harry stands there foolishly for a moment, lingering. Nothing happens.

A short laugh rushes out of him; vicious relief nearly causes his head to sway, but he can’t help it. For a breathtaking moment, he had almost convinced himself that he’d felt something like a tingle, like a response from his magic that something was about to happen.

Shock, Harry reminds himself. She was just in shock.

He shakes his head to clear it of whatever madness had briefly held him and readies to shoulder open the door and commandeer a temporary wand. Even an incompatible wand will be better than nothing if he continues lending a hand to the Aurors on the scene. But before he can even take a step, his eyes catch movement in the darkness of the shop. And—Oh, that’s coming straight at me.

“Whoa!” Harry ducks and turns to watch as a wand takes an arching turn and bounds straight towards him again. But this time, Harry is ready; he catches it with a smart thwack to the flat of his palm.

The immediate warmth and pure magic radiating from this wand floods his veins unlike any other—but that’s a lie. It’s exactly like one other. One other wand from when Harry was eleven. His very first wand.

He looks at the fine holly wood in his hand, feels the blazing heat of what is no doubt a phoenix feather core, and the familiar curves and juts of its crafted exterior, and conjures no happiness at the sight of his old friend. Harry feels dread take hold of his very being, leaving him cold and wrung dry.

“Tempus,” Harry mutters, and like delicate clockwork, the spell casts flawlessly and more naturally than any spell Harry has cast in ages. The time of day and month are troubling enough, but the year really causes its own upending.

1978.

Harry takes a deep, steadying breath in. He locks all the terrible and horrible things he’s feeling away in a small corner of his mind, shoving it all into a cupboard under the stairs. And he takes a deep, steadying breath out.

He nods once to himself and holds his wand in a textbook grip. Logic and Auror instinct, but more prevalent, war instinct, sinks its familiar claws into the still healing scars of his mind.

He leaves Ollivanders and makes his way carefully up Diagon Alley, distantly acknowledging that he hasn’t done as good a job as he’s hoping at concealing his anxieties. His casting is too accurate and decidedly not as innocent as it’s been. He trades stupefy for spells that may lean a little darker than any Auror really should be using.

He can’t say he has the element of surprise on his side. Still, the terrorists attacking the alley aren’t exactly looking out for an Auror dressed like Harry, so he has a precious few moments of them treating him like a civilian before realising their grave error.

But, by then, Harry has blasted them halfway across the alley. They’re face down on the cobblestones or missing a limb or two by the time their ah-ha moment of ‘civilians don’t normally fight like that’ echoes in the quiet of their unconscious minds.

As Harry gets closer to the heart of the battle, picking off black-robed wizards one by one and gathering appreciative and perplexed looks from Aurors, he realises that faces are beginning to gain an awful familiarity. He wants to hex himself—of course faces are starting to look familiar. He knows an ungodly amount of wixen who fought in the First War. He’s heard numerous stories of their bravery and seen photographs of them, after all, and Harry really should have known that seeing them would be inevitable, even now—even when he isn’t ready.

But he hasn’t ever travelled this far back in time, so can anyone blame him for being caught by surprise?

Because—there she is.

She’s fresh out of Hogwarts. Classes must’ve only ended a month or so ago. And she’s standing at the heart of the battle. The August sun lends an unfairly clear day to the gruesome attack and shines on the brilliant auburn of her hair, all tied back and away from her face like a flaming whip. Gods, there she is.

Harry is shocked still, eyes locked on the sight of Lily Potter.

And he pays for it with a gnarly gash to the side of his ribs.

Gasping out, he quickly breaks from his trance and curses his inability to stay focused. Harry fires back with his own cutting spell; of course, the much nastier sectumsempra won’t be nearly as easy to bounce back from, but Harry just can’t muster up the fucks to give at the moment.

Mum—Lily—is the one who stops his next assailant, though Harry doubts she even notices her assistance. It turns out she’s the one ripping stone out of the earth and flinging it at anything silver and moving. And, Merlin, it’s nearly charming. He’s going to throw up.

It takes a blue spell, its colour vibrant and just off enough for Harry to connect that it isn’t anything friendly, barely missing her, for him to decide enough is enough.

Harry centres himself and pulls at his magic. He aims his wand at the ground beneath his feet and chants until small spikes start erupting around them like saplings from the cobblestone. He doesn’t stop until they grow taller and taller until they tower over every head and every thatched roof, and until all the ruined pathways around Diagon Alley have become impractical and claustrophobic.

Startled cries come from every direction; Harry thinks he hears bones snapping from those who can’t thread the needle before the spikes grow too close, like a dense forest. No one is spared of his sudden anger…

…no one except for Lily Potter, who stands in a small circle of safety. The spikes around her have curved inward, lending shelter. When Harry finally catches her gaze—oh no, oh no, oh no—he finds that her arms are raised. Almost like Harry’s a robber, and this is all just some kind of hold-up. He feels the urge to laugh die as quickly as it comes.

Not a soul moves, but Harry isn’t one for inaction. He lifts his wand and casts a sonorus; he speaks, “If you are a follower of-“ Harry mindfully avoids His name, unaware if the taboo has been enacted, “the Dark Lord, I believe you’ve caused well enough damage today. Leave.”

It’s silent for a long moment. And then, suddenly, the sharp snap of the anti-apparition wards shattering is all Harry hears. He can almost feel the rain of its magic falling down all around them, preceding the sounds of loud pop-pop-pops from the Death Eaters tucking tails and running away.

Harry is a little shocked that simply demanding they leave works. Then again, turning all of Diagon Alley’s streets into some giant’s version of an Iron Maiden in the heat of his anger is probably something to be wary of. When the last pop fades, and all is quiet once more, Harry transfigures the cobblestones back. Once again, marvelling at the easy control with his holly wand.

It dawns on Harry, now that the battle is cleared up as best as he can manage, that he has no way of returning to his time and nothing to immediately keep that thought from taking hold and consuming him whole. He stands, mind racing and paralysed, as multiple hesitant thanks, thank you so much, you saved us, are whispered his way. And he could really do without the reminder of how irreparably fucked he’s just made the timeline, but, you’re welcome, he supposes.

Then, through the whirlwind of his breakdown, he feels two gentle hands on his arms, pulling him out of the dark and into the eye of the storm.

“Excuse me?” Harry looks up at green, sage and fresh like a vegetable garden, like summer’s grass on a quidditch field, like sprigs of thyme on a holiday roast surrounded by family; he looks up at the eyes of Lily Potter and startles at the sound of her voice.

Is this what she really sounds like? Harry remembers her voice clear as day from—well, it’s nothing he wants to think about now. But he doesn’t remember it sounding like this. So bright and so…

“So young…” Harry mindlessly replies. And Lily Potter’s answering frown is enough to leave him sorry for the rest of his miserable life.

She turns her careful attention to Harry’s bleeding shoulder, and he finally realises she’s trying to heal him. He doesn’t mention that he isn’t too worried about it and that the gash on his ribs is way worse because she starts speaking again, and all Harry wants to do is shut up and listen to her voice forever.

“Speak for yourself, firecracker,” she says. “You look about my age and handled yourself better than any of these Aurors.”

Firecracker? Harry mutters soundlessly. He’s bewildered at the idea of his mother giving him a nickname like that, his mother giving him a nickname at all. Something screaming and rotting and twisting in his soul mourns the loss of it until now.

“This doesn’t look as bad as I’d thought. Do you feel any intense pain? Any sharp shooting down your arm or back?” She asks.

Harry shakes his head slowly and in a daze. She hums, doubting, “Well, even if it doesn’t hurt too badly, let’s get you to St Mungo’s and patch you up—“

Harry steps back and out of her gentle hands, shaking his head with much more clarity. “No. No doctors. I can heal it myself well enough.”

Lily’s eyes widen, and something on his face must scream that he’s planning on making his great escape—it doesn’t matter where as long as it isn’t here in front of her of all people—because she suddenly grabs his wrist tight enough to bruise. “Wait! I’ll listen! I won’t force you to see a healer, but please,” she grips him even tighter, “we haven’t had a… a victory like this… in a long, long time.”

Her eyes pry into him; they search and search, and she must find something because she steadies her panic and softly demands that he - “Don’t go.”

Harry can only stare, horrified, at his own mother standing before him, young and alive and begging him not to go.

He’s saved from answering as they’re interrupted by a loud shout, “LILY!”

A man full-on tackles Lily Potter with force strong enough to pull Harry with them, but madly, all Harry can think is that - Mum has quite the grip.

And now that he’s so close, Harry quickly deduces that the new link to their growing chain is none other than James Potter.

Harry’s eyes blink slowly; a bone-weary exhaustion takes staunch hold of him as he listens to his father ask after his mother’s well-being. Finally, Lily speaks over him firm and unyielding, “James. I am fine. Where on earth have you been?”

“I was dealing with some Death Eaters towards the mouth of Knockturn—but that doesn’t matter! What matters is that you promised to stay by me, and in less than two shakes of a fairy’s wings, you were nowhere to be seen.”

Lily scoffs, “I cannot believe you are blaming me right now when you are clearly the one who wandered off first! We agreed to stay near the centre, and, oh wow! Would you look at that? That’s exactly where you found me, isn’t it?”

Harry cannot believe he’s watching his parents have their first domestic argument, and he isn’t even technically born yet. This is cruel and unusual. Wait, are they even married?

“Okay. Agree to disagree,” James nods. Lily’s got that look on her face that Hermione sometimes gets with Ron, like he’d better say the right thing in the next four seconds, or he’ll get a nasty left hook to the face. Harry feels his stomach drop right out of him at the thought of never seeing Ron and Hermione ever again. Oh god. And then, James continues, “We are both at fault.”

James’ eyes stray towards Harry, looking long and hard at his face. He finds Lily’s tight grip next and asks, “Who’s tall, pale, and ready to be sick standing beside you here?”

“What?” Lily asks, and her eyes fall on Harry, too. Her mouth parts in a horror Harry feels immensely. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry; I promise I didn’t forget about you. It’s just that James is so distracting, and oh merlin, I haven’t even introduced myself—“

“Lily, take a deep breath. And maybe let the man go?”

“James, you have no idea what happened. But you would if you’d have been here.”

Harry clears his throat, “Um,” James and Lily both turn and give him their full attention. Oh, that’s awful. How does Harry simultaneously feel like the youngest and oldest person here? He’s clueless about what to say next but settles on, “Um… I’m Harry.”

“Harry,” James and Lily say it together. Perfect unison. Lily’s eyes are wide, but her smile is wider, and James looks extremely confused and nearly half as put out. His brows furrow until they almost touch, and he comments, “My grandfather’s name was Harry.” He frowns and corrects himself, “Well, his name was Henry, but we all called him Harry.”

Oh. Should Harry have given them a fake name?

“James…” Lily murmurs. She isn’t quiet enough for Harry to miss her following words, “He looks a bit like he could be your brother, doesn’t he? Even a bit like Charlus?” James silently and slowly nods, his eyes still locked on Harry.

“What did you say your surname was again, Harry?” James asks with all the subtlety of a hippogriff, like he’s trying to be slick.

And Harry, no stranger to risky bets, replies, “I didn’t. But it’s Potter. Harry Potter.”

The silence that follows is the loudest he’s heard yet. Wasn’t he nearly deaf earlier?

Until—“Lily. You got a good grip on him, yeah?” James asks.

“Of course,” she nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

James grins. “Hold on tighter, then.”

The sudden gathering of magic in the air has Harry’s hair standing on end. He knows what’s coming but doesn’t truly process it until he catches sight of James’ wand out, and by then, it’s too late.

They apparate out of Diagon Alley.

#eventual #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry #pov: harry #my fic #4.2k words #yeah - i added a thousand whole words to this #unnamed fic #surprise again #it's time travel and the first wizarding world - two of my favourite vices (still)#i told you this might change drastically and no one believed me #i didn't give this a final glance before posting so if there are any mistakes - no there aren't 😭

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

Text

welcome home

barcelona femeni x alexia putellas x youngadult!reader

summary: you find healing after switching clubs

warnings: swearing, bodyshaming, one mention of bodily fluids, I made up names of imaginary players who don't play for the nwsl club mentioned in this fic!!!, bullying, angst, yes there is a happy ending.

you grew up with your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ball.

at 15, you felt like the world belonged to you—a place where dreams became your reality. you’d trained hard your whole life to make it to the world stage, and by 16, you were living your dream as one of the youngest members of the 2019 world cup roster for the united states.

the national anthem playing, crowds screaming your name as you made the assist to rose lavelle’s goal—it was everything you’d ever wanted.

all of the happiness and thrill faded away when you joined the kansas city current. when you first stepped into the locker room, you were excited. new teammates, new opportunities—it was everything you’d hoped for.

you wanted to make friends, to be part of a family when it came to being with your first professional club outside of your childhood one.

the moment you walked through those doors, you could feel something off. the eyes on you were sharp, intense, cold.

“what’s up, big foot?” macy had said, the team captain, with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"don't trip over those feet, yeah?" she had laughed, and a few others joined in, but the laughter felt harsh, mocking.

“yeah, we don’t need a kid coming in thinking she’s hot shit,” added jessica, one of the veteran players, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“try not to embarrass us out there.”

you laughed nervously, trying to brush it off as rookie hazing, but the tone was sharper than you expected. you told yourself that it was normal, that it was just their way of breaking the ice.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

practices started to become a war zone. it wasn’t just intense training; it was like they were out to get you. elbows to your back when the coach wasn’t looking, hair pulling, shoes clipped behind your heels to send you stumbling.

once, in a scrimmage, you remember trying to dribble past jessica. the curly-red headed girl came in late with a slide tackle, her studs connecting straight with your shin. you hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, and she stood over you, smirking.

“whoops,” she said, her voice flat and unapologetic. “you should be quicker, portland has fast forwards and you can’t defend them with those legs.”

the coaches didn’t do anything. you’d get up, limp back into position, and hear them say, “come on y/n, toughen up. you’ve got to be ready for contact against portland on thursday.”

they acted like it was all normal, like you were the problem.

in the locker room, it wasn’t any better. they whispered behind your back, cruel comments about your skills, your looks, even your voice.

once, after a tough practice where arianna had practically shoved you into the goalpost, you were struggling to keep your emotions in check as you unlaced your cleats. you heard them in the back of the room, their voices loud and taunting.

“seriously, what does the national team see in her? she’s not even that great,” jessica said, snickering.

“guess they needed a token teenager to fill the roster,” another voice added, followed by laughter.

“she needs to go back to playing with the u18s, kylie you’d do much better than her in the left-back position!”

you bit your lip so hard it bled, staring down at the floor, pretending you didn’t hear them. you never knew what to say. it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

everything you did felt wrong, like you were walking on eggshells every day.

and then came the night that broke you.

it was after that world cup loss to sweden, a moment that already weighed on you like a thousand bricks.

you returned to kansas hoping to throw yourself into training, to prove you could bounce back. but when you entered the locker room, your world came crashing down. your locker was trashed—like a hurricane had blown through.

your training kit was shredded, your cleats filled with some kind of foul-smelling gunk– obviously period blood due to a used tampon found inside of the locker. and scrawled in black marker across the inside door of your locker were the words,

spoiled, selfish, fat bitch!

you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking so violently you couldn’t steady them.

“what... what the fuck is this?” your voice came out a choked whisper.

kamryn, another girl on the team, walked by, a smug grin on her face.

“looks like someone had a bad month,” she said, fake sympathy dripping from her words.

“i hope you can still play tomorrow, stargirl.”

the nickname fans around the world called you, now being used to belittle you.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you yelled at them, your voice cracking with rage and desperation, “the fuck? what did i do to any of you? this is fucking insane and you think i am the problem?”

“you walked in here thinking you were better than us. you got handed everything, y/n. you don’t deserve to be here. you’re a little girl playing a big girl’s game.” jessica walked in, scoffing while smirking at the sight of your locker in the dressing room.

you left that night and didn’t stop crying until your eyes were red and swollen. but even then, the coaches did nothing.

they told you to toughen up, to show “mental strength,” as if their approval could patch over what you were going through. and that’s when you realized you had to get out—before this place destroyed you and any love you had for football.

barcelona was the escape you desperately needed. a chance to rebuild, to breathe.

when you landed in spain, everything felt fragile. it didn’t matter that you were now with one of the best clubs in the world.

the trauma from kansas stuck to you like a shadow. you walked into your new locker room, keeping your head down, afraid to say the wrong thing, terrified of the laughter you thought you’d hear.

but it never came.

instead, alexia, the captain, was the first to welcome you. “y/n! niña!!! so nice to finally meet you,” she beamed, pulling you into a hug that felt warm and real.

“i can’t wait to see you play. you’re from the states? we need to introduce you to keira and lucy– they’ve been wanting to meet you but don’t take their banter seriously.”

every day, they chipped away at your fear. little by little.

when you struggled on penalty kicks one time during training, patri stayed back with you after practice.

“okay you got this!!! by the end of this evening, you will never miss a penalty kick again. trust me! yeah? it’ll be fun.” she speaks with a thick catalan accent.

you were hesitant, scared to mess up, but patri never pushed. she was patient, kind. she’d pass the ball back to you and made you do penalty kicks over and over again until you felt comfortable, until your footwork was smooth, and every small achievement she celebrated like it was a goal in the final.

“see? you’ve got this,” she’d say, and you’d feel the corners of your mouth tug into a smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

it was a few weeks into your time with barcelona, but you still felt like an outsider.

even with the kind gestures, the smiles, the support from the team, you were carrying the weight of kansas like a ghost.

you stayed quiet during team meetings, laughed politely but never loudly, and when the others shared jokes or talked about life outside of soccer, you sat on the edges, half-invisible.

alexia had been watching you. she noticed how you shrunk into yourself, how you seemed to fade into the background during conversations.

during drills, your focus was laser-sharp—too sharp, like you were overthinking every touch, every pass. when you were off the ball, your eyes darted around, like you were searching for threats.

you reminded alexia of esmee when she first arrived last season—new, uncertain. but this was different.

there was fear and sadness in your eyes.

one afternoon after training, alexia pulled you aside. the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pitch, and most of the team had already started heading back to the locker room.

you felt her hand on your shoulder, and you turned, trying to hide the nervousness in your eyes.

“niña,” she said gently, a small smile on her lips. “can we talk?”

you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “sure, alexia. what’s up?”

“it’s about you,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “you’ve been… quiet. more quiet than normal. and i get it, you know, being the new girl and all. esmee and kika were shy when they first came, but…” alexia paused, searching your face.

“this feels different. it feels like you’re afraid of us.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the words getting stuck in your throat. you didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to burden anyone.

“i’m not... i mean, it’s just—" you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right thing to say, something that wouldn’t make you sound like a mess. “it’s nothing. really.”

alexia didn’t buy it. she shook her head slightly, taking a step closer to you. “i don’t think it’s nothing, y/n. you barely look anyone in the eye, and when someone even brushes by you during training, you flinch like you’re waiting to get hurt. it’s not normal.”

she kept her voice calm, steady, like she was trying to reassure a frightened animal. “listen... if something happened before you got here, you can talk to me. it’s just me right now. no one else.”

you wanted to brush it off, to laugh and say she was overthinking, but the truth clawed its way up, burning your throat. you clenched your fists, staring down at your cleats, trying to focus on anything but alexia's eyes, which felt like they could see right through you.

“it’s… it’s hard to talk about,” you finally admitted, voice cracking on the last word.

“back in kansas, things were... bad. really bad.”

“what do you mean?” alexia’s voice was a whisper, gentle but urging you to continue. she stepped closer, her hand on your shoulder now, warm and steady.

you bit your lip, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill.

“my teammates—they hated me. from the minute i got there, they acted like i was the opponent that happened to sneak into their dressing room. i thought maybe it was just... i don't know, maybe i did something wrong. but no matter what i did, they just got worse. they... they bullied me. on the field, off the field... they’d make comments, call me fat, trash my stuff, physically go after me during practice.” you took a shaky breath, your shoulders trembling.

“they hated me for being good– for being called up to the world cup before some of their veterans did. they said i didn’t deserve the call ups at all, that i was useless. every single day felt like... like a war that i was going to lose.”

alexia’s face hardened, and for a second, you thought you saw anger glistening in her eyes.

“and your coaches?” she asked, voice tight with anger. “they did nothing?”

“they... didn’t care,” you said, shaking your head.

“if anything, they made it worse. told me to toughen up, to get used to it, that it was part of being a pro. so i did. i tried to act like it didn’t bother me. but it did. every day, it did.”

there was a heavy silence. alexia didn’t speak for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. and then, she pulled you into a hug—tight, secure, like she was trying to shield you from all the pain you had gone through.

you stiffened for a second, unaccustomed to the softness, the genuine care, but then melted into it, burying your face in her shoulder.

“you don’t have to go through that alone anymore,” she whispered.

“this is your home now, y/n. we’re your family. i promise you—no one will ever treat you like that again. not while i’m here, and i am going to be here for a very long time.”

you felt the tears slide down your face, but they weren’t tears of pain anymore.

they were relief, a feeling you hadn’t let yourself feel for a long time. when she finally let go, alexia cupped your face, making sure you were looking right into her eyes.

“you are so much more than what they made you feel,” she said firmly, her voice laced with emotion. “and if anyone even tries to make you feel like that again, they’ll have to go through me. through all of us. okay?”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile breaking through. “okay.”

“did you go to anyone on your national team about this?” alexia asked, hoping you did.

“i did. alex was the one who encourage me to move clubs. trinity even promised to smash kansas when they go to washington dc to play against spirit.” you laughed, wiping a stray tear from your face.

she laughed back, squeezing your hands. “we’ve got your back, y/n. always.”

and she meant it. over the coming weeks, you felt the shift.

after that talk, alexia made it a point to check in on you.

the small gestures from the team slowly healed the wounds you didn't think would ever close.

when ingrid left you notes in your locker before every match with scribbled encouragements, kika making it a routine to kiss you on the head when you scored a goal past aitana in training, or when mapi pulled you into a bear hug after a tough game reminding you that she is proud of you– you felt at home.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #fc barcelona #alexia putellas #mapi leon #ingrid engen #kika nazareth #trinity rodman

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wolvietxt · 2 months ago

Text

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : anxiety, panic, angst, fluff, overstimulation, implied age gap, pet names, budding relationship au wc : 1.5k a/n : i’m thinking about maybe making the odd prompt list, not sure if anyone would be interested? idk i feel like i have so many ideas on what to write but not enough time to actually write them. lmk if it’s something anyone would be interested in😭

you'd always hated crowded spaces, but this - this was something else entirely.

the pounding bass from the club’s speakers seemed to vibrate through your whole body, and the flashing lights made it impossible to focus on anything for too long. it was all too loud, too chaotic. the mission had been simple: blend in, keep an eye on the target, and extract information. easy enough. except no one had accounted for the fact that a telepath like you could hardly stand in the middle of a packed nightclub without being bombarded by the overwhelming flood of thoughts and emotions from every single person around you.

the drinks, the laughter, the flirtations happening at every corner - they were suffocating. you tried to block them out, but your mental shields were already thin, your energy worn down from the mission prep. and now, with the music and flashing lights adding to the noise in your head, everything was starting to blur together. the alcohol from earlier wasn’t helping either.

you stood near the edge of the room, trying to focus on anything other than the mental cacophony around you. the team was scattered throughout the club, everyone doing their part to blend in with the crowd. but for you, it was becoming harder to concentrate on the task at hand. the target’s thoughts were buried under a thousand others, each one screaming for attention inside your mind.

you felt sick, like the world was spinning too fast. the room was closing in. your head pounded, and you could feel a sharp nausea creeping up your throat. you needed to get out of there, away from the noise, the thoughts, the people.

a warm hand suddenly brushed against your arm, pulling you out of the spiral you were falling into. you turned, blinking, and found logan standing beside you. his sharp eyes were locked on you, concern written all over his face. he’d always been able to read you better than anyone else on the team, even without telepathy.

“you alright, kid?” his voice cut through the haze, gruff but steady. it was like an anchor, something real and solid to focus on.

you nodded quickly, though it was a lie. “i’m fine,” you muttered, but the words felt weak, shaky.

logan didn’t buy it for a second. “yeah, bullshit,” he muttered, his hand still resting on your arm, grounding you. “you’re lookin’ pale as hell. c’mon, bub.”

before you could protest, logan gently but firmly led you toward the exit, weaving through the crowd with ease. you followed, grateful for his presence. the second you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

logan guided you away from the line of people waiting to get in and toward a quieter spot around the corner of the building, far from the pounding music. the noise from inside was muffled now, and without the sea of thoughts crashing into you from all sides, your head began to clear, just a little.

“better?” logan asked, his voice softer now, though still carrying that rough edge that was so inherently him.

you nodded, taking a deep breath. “yeah… yeah, much better. thanks.”

he leaned back against the brick wall, folding his arms across his chest, watching you carefully. he didn’t push, didn’t demand an explanation, but you could tell by the way his eyes narrowed slightly that he knew something was wrong.

“it’s just... the noise in there,” you said after a moment, your voice quiet, almost embarrassed. “not just the music, but the people. their thoughts. it’s... it’s a lot.”

logan’s expression softened, just a little. he might not understand telepathy the way you experienced it, but he got it in his own way. he knew what it was like to have too much going on in your head, to feel overwhelmed by things out of your control.

“should’ve said somethin’,” he muttered, though his tone wasn’t harsh. “i would’ve gotten you outta there sooner.”

you shook your head. “i didn’t want to mess up the mission.”

“the mission doesn’t matter if you’re about to pass out,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with irritation - not at you, but at the situation. “you gotta take care of yourself.”

you sighed, leaning against the wall beside him. “i know. ‘s just... hard. when you’re in a place like that, and everyone’s thinking all at once, it’s like - ” you shrugged, trying to find the right words. “it’s like being underwater. you can hear everything muffled, but it’s all too much at the same time. i couldn’t block them all out.”

logan was quiet for a moment, processing what you said. then he nodded, as if he understood. “well, you’re outta there now. you don’t need to go back in. the rest of us can handle it.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “no, i can’t leave the team like that. we’re supposed to - ”

“hey,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm. “you’ve done enough, kid. let us take it from here.” his gaze softened as he looked down at you. “besides, you ain’t leavin’ us hangin’. you’re just takin’ a breather. nothin’ wrong with that.”

you met his eyes, feeling a little less guilty under his steady gaze. he was right, of course. but it still felt wrong to step back when the rest of the team was inside, working.

“how about this,” logan added, his tone softening. “you stay out here for a bit, get your head straight, and if you’re feelin’ up to it, we’ll go back in together. but only if you’re ready.”

his words made you relax a little more. the pressure to keep pushing through was gone, and the idea of taking a break, even if just for a few minutes, didn’t feel so bad when he framed it like that.

“okay,” you agreed softly. “i think... i think i need a few minutes.”

logan nodded, satisfied with your answer. he pushed away from the wall and motioned toward a nearby bench. “sit down for a sec. no rush.”

you followed him, sinking onto the bench gratefully. the fresh air felt good, like it was clearing away the fog in your mind. logan sat beside you, silent but present, his arm resting on the back of the bench, his fingers grazing your shoulder lightly.

“how do you do it?” you asked after a few minutes, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “do what?”

“stay so calm,” you murmured, staring down at your hands. “you’re always in control. even when everything’s going crazy, you just... keep it together.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “you think i’m calm?”

you looked at him, a little surprised by his response. “well, yeah. you always seem like you’ve got it under control.”

logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “darlin’, i ain’t always calm. most of the time, i’m just as pissed off or frustrated as the next guy. but i learned a long time ago that lettin’ it take over don’t do any good. doesn’t mean it’s easy, but... you get used to it.”

you frowned slightly, processing what he said. “so... you’re just used to it?”

“nah,” he corrected, his voice softer now. “i’m used to dealin’ with it. there’s a difference. but i had to figure that out the hard way. you’ll get there, bub. more easily i hope.”

you nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. it wasn’t the same as what you were dealing with, but in a way, it felt like he understood more than anyone else on the team ever could. and the fact that he was here, sitting with you, offering quiet support, meant more than you could express.

“thanks,” you said after a moment, glancing up at him with a small smile. “for getting me out of there. for... everything.”

logan looked at you for a beat, his expression softening. “anytime,” he muttered, his voice gruff but genuine.

for a while, the two of you just sat there in the quiet, the night air cool against your skin. the noise and chaos of the club were distant now, and with logan beside you, the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that had threatened to drown you finally felt manageable.

“you ready to head back in?” logan asked after a few minutes, though his tone wasn’t pushy.

you hesitated for a second, then shook your head. “not yet.”

he smirked slightly, nodding. “good. let’s stay out here a bit longer.”

you smiled, leaning into his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away. instead, his arm settled around you, holding you close as the night stretched on, the two of you finding a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

general taglist : @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @k1t-k4ts, @icurushasfallen, @eddxemxnson, @nickiinator

@chamomile-tea420, @rooroen, @spitfy, @cannon-writes, @platinumblondeedition

@cloudcandyala, @v3lv3tf0x, @california-boys-and-sun, @harleyyquinnsgf, @lemoanaid

@notacleangirl, @jabberwokee, @aetherthetrashpanda, @schrodingersjigsaw, @sylaswrites

@t0mmy-th3-gh0st, @correnz, @fvhs-things, @kallmeweirdhprroe, @dugiioh

@thugbiscuits, @rosiahills22, @cassehtwah, @whxtewolf, @mystcrium,

@bluevclvet, @angellreads, @babey-fruit-bat

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cosyvelvetorchid · 26 days ago

Text

Emergency Contact

Based on an idea by @annurb

*********

Buck patted his turnouts and furrowed his brows as he looked around the rig. He bend forward and brushed an arm under the seats.

“Do I even want to ask what you’re doing?” Hen said.

“Uh.. I can’t find my phone.” He said checking his pockets for the third time.

“When did you last have it?” She asked.

“The hospital.” He answered remembering putting it down on the reception desk while he was deep in conversation with one of porters who had asked him about applying to join the department. “I think I left it at reception.”

“You really want us to turn the engine around for your phone?” Bobby asked incredulously from the front.

“Please?”

“Fine.” Bobby sighed. “But if we get a call on the way back we’re going to it and you’ll have to wait until after shift to get it.”

“Copy that, Cap.”

“It not healthy to be this attached to your phone.” Chim told him.

“I’m not!” He protested.

“Oh it’s not his phone he’s attached too.” Hen teased and Buck rolled his eyes and looked out of the window in a failed attempt to hide the flush to his cheeks.

She was absolutely right, though—it wasn’t his phone he’s was obsessed with but that it was it means of communication with Tommy when the universe dared to keep them apart by working opposite shifts.

It’s had been a world-wind 2 months and Bucks feet were barely ever on the ground Tommy had swept him off them so incredibly. For the first time in any relationship he’d been in he’d never once felt the need to ask or beg for attention—Tommy lavished him with it. If he couldn’t physically be there to cook dinner for him, or with him, or watch movies together or go hiking together, or just simply effortlessly be in each others presence, he was messaging or calling in his spare time during his shifts. And not for any real reason but to talk to his boyfriend.

Buck was already falling hard for the pilot.

“Make it quick, Buck.” Bobby said as the rig pulled up in front of the hospital.

Buck jumped down and jogged into the building.

“Firefighter Buckley, you miss us already?” Nurse Jasper said as he approached the desk.

He smiled. “Uh, I think I left my phone here?”

“Ah. It was yours! I put it in the staff room. Can you wait for just a sec? We got 3 nurses out with the flu so we’re run off our feet.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you. Cindy?” She called to another nurse. “The lady in 204 needs her meds, and the gentleman in 207 needs his dressings changed. And I’d see to him first—he’s a grumpy one.”

“Is that the hot one?” Cindy swooned.

The other nurse rolled her eyes. “Cindy, this is a hospital and he is a patient.”

“A hot patient.” Cindy said back and Buck laughed.

“Just go and see to Mr Kinard before he gets even worse.”

Bucks heart shot up into his throat at the same time his stomach dropped a thousand feet.

“I-I’m sorry, did you just say Mr Kinard?”

“Yes.”

“Thomas Kinard?” He added just to be sure.

“Yeah. Do you..” Buck didn’t hear the rest of her words as he quickly left the desk for the corridor to find room 207.

A mixture of sadness, anger and relief hit him all at once when arrived at the room and saw Tommy through the window.

The man he- his boyfriend was laid on the bed—his left leg in a cast up to below his knee, a bandage wrapped around his right forearm and a stitches on the right side of his forehead surrounded by deep pinkish red bruising.

“What the hell, Tommy?!”

Tommy’s head shot up, his face a mixture of shock and sheepishness. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath.

He’d hoped to be out of the hospital before he told Buck what had happened—ask for forgiveness not permission, right? He didn’t want to lie to him, and felt bad for doing so, but in the small amount of time they’d been dating he’d come to know that Buck would throw down his whole life to take care of the people he cared about.

It wasn’t that Tommy didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but he was fully capable of taking care of himself and was absolutely not going to be a burden on his boyfriend.

“What the hell happened?! Why are you here? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?!” The words all melded into one almost indecipherable sentence.

“I’m fine, Evan.” He protested as he squirmed in his bed trying to give off the air of someone who was absolutely totally fine and not at all beginning to regret refusing pain meds from the nurses.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? You’re in hospital Tommy. With obviously a broken leg and other injuries.” He gestured to Tommy’s arm and face. Buck was immediately reminded of his own near career-ending leg injury and fear fizzed its way around his body as he looked at Tommys leg.

Buck was angry as hell that Tommy, or anybody, hadn’t told him that he’d gotten injured, but overshadowing all of that was sadness and worry that Tommy was hurt.

Tommy hated the worried look on Bucks face. “It’s a basic leg break, a few weeks in a cast and some PT and I’ll be back to normal. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.” He argued.

Though that did alleviate Bucks worries a small amount, he still had to breathe away that anger that was trying its damndest to rise up. “Tommy, being fine is not the issue here—you were hurt and you didn’t tell me.”

“There was no point—there’s nothing that you could do. There was no point worrying you.”

“You’re my boyfriend—I’m going to worry regardless.” He told him. “And it’s not about being able to do anything, it’s about wanting to know that you’re okay and being there for you.”

“Yeah, but then you’d insist on taking care of me, which I don’t need you to do.” His voice had an edge of strain to it. He was getting frustrated. This was the reason he hadn’t told Buck—he didn’t need anybody worrying about him.

“I know you’re capable of looking after yourself, Tommy, that’s not- wait.. how long have you been in here?”

Tommy looked away from Buck before he answered. “Two days.” He answered quietly.

“Two days?! So, the whole time you were texting me telling me you were at home resting on your 48 off you were lying to me?!”

“Evan..” Tommy reached out for Bucks hand but he stepped back. Tommy felt a pull on his heart at the rejection. It was the first time since they’d become a couple that Buck had rejected any physical touch from Tommy.

It was one of Tommy’s favourite things about Buck—how tactile he was. Mostly because he was the same. Physical touch was a big love language of his and having a boyfriend who so readily gave it and received it felt wonderful.

“No. You.. you lied to me, Tommy. I-I don’t know what’s worse. That, or that you didn’t think it was important for me to know that you were injured.”

Tears were threatening his eyes. He felt stupid. He thought things with Tommy were different—that he’d found someone who wanted him around.

“Is everybody in the dark or was it just me?” He asked not being able to hold the contempt out of his voice.

“No, nobody knows. Well, aside from my captain. He’d have noticed when I didn’t turn up for my shift.” He huffed a small laugh which did not go down well with Buck.

“This isn’t funny, Tommy. None of this is. What even happened?”

“Engine hoist chain snapped while I was working on my car. Engine landed on my leg and the chain hit me on the arm and face.”

Bucks heart cracked open at the image in his mind of Tommy trapped in his own garage, alone and in pain.

“And you didn’t think to call me?”

“I was too preoccupied with trying to get an engine off my leg, Evan. Besides, I called 911 straight away.”

Buck was having a hard time with this. His boyfriend hurts himself in a way that could have been much more serious, and spent two days alone in the hospital and nobody was there for him?

“You said nobody else knows?” He asked and Tommy shook his head. “Did they not call your emergency contact?”

“I don’t have one listed.” He said plainly.

“Why? You’re an emergency responder—you know how important it is to have someone to make decisions on your behalf if you can’t.”

“I‘ve never had anybody to put down!” Tommy’s voice was raised which surprised them both. Tommy’s frustration was getting the better of him. The problem was Buck had always looked at Tommy like a hero; a big and brave and confident man who had his shit together. And okay, he may have those tendencies now on the surface, but underneath all of it was a man with a lifetime of trauma he was still unpacking at the age of 40. They were early enough in their relationship that he hadn’t felt comfortable talking about it all yet.

If there was one thing he admired the most about Evan it was that he wore his heart on his sleeve and that had the ability to be open and honest about himself and how he felt. Tommy knew that his boyfriend probably wouldn’t run a mile when, if, he told him about his childhood, but by his own previous experiences in relationships, there was always that chance.

But, he had to give something. The fact was he was falling for Evan and it utterly terrified him. It terrified him that Evan would figure out who he really was and want nothing to do with him. But what was more terrifying was losing him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Evan, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anybody in my life that actually gave a shit about me. And I had come to terms with that—I get by just fine on my own.”

Buck’s heart broke hearing that. His parents hadn’t exactly been there for him growing up but he at least had Maddie taking care of him. Maddie was always there when he needed someone; always his biggest champion.

“Tommy..” Buck pulled up a chair and sat close to the bed, taking Tommy’s hand in his. “I know you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself, but.. I’m here. I’m in your life now and-and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this shit alone anymore.”

He concentrated on not allowing the tears to spill over. He knew what would happen—Tommy would immediately focus on him and comforting him, which Buck didn’t want. Tommy was the one who needed comforting.

Even if his stubborn ass couldn’t accept it.

“It’s not easy for me; to let someone be there. I don’t want to be a burden to anybody.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“You’re not a burden, Tommy. You’re my boyfriend—I want to take care of you. And-and not out of obligation or because you’re incapable, but because I-“ He had to stop “L” word from falling out of his mouth. “-care about you. A lot. But you have to let me.”

Tommy looked into Buck always earnest eyes and his mouth moved into a soft smile.

“Okay.” He conceded.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Buck smiled standing up.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked.

“To tell Bobby that I need the rest of the shift off, and to get the forms you need to fill in to make me your emergency contact.” Tommy opened his mouth but Buck didn’t let him speak. “Look, it doesn’t have to be me if you don’t want that—you can put down Bobby. Or even Hen or Chim—I know none of them would mind. Don’t argue with me on this Tommy—you’re not leaving this hospital without someone on those forms.”

Bucks face was stern, but with an underlying current of affection that Tommy couldn’t say no to.

“I was going to say that I want it to be you.” He told him.

“Okay then.” Buck said with a smile, walking to the door. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgiven you for lying to me. You’ve got a lot to work to do to make it up to me, Kinard.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile telling Tommy that it would be okay.

“Whatever it takes.” He said back.

#911 abc #911 #911onabc #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 buck #evan buckley #buck x tommy #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic

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godjo · 4 months ago

Text

tags — luffy x afab!reader. 400+ wc. ꒰ explicit smut. pusswhipped luffy. he calls you angel. condescending luffy because why tf not. he’s really pussywhipped :((. cum! cum! cum! leaky cock!luffy. creampie yum. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. ꒱

from hunter — this is a repost from my prev blog. not proofread. ✮

whenever luffy gets to pop his leaking cock into your twitchy hole, he loses his mind a little. and it’s funny, really, because with how comfortable his clothes are, you’d think that he can easily take them off behind closed doors.

no. luffy becomes so sloppy, hands clammy and shaking while he fumbles with his shorts, just to release his poor, swollen cock from its annoying restraints.

naked and sprawled on the bed, this sight is reason enough to make you giggle.

he’s known far and wide as a force to be reckoned with; a man whose bounty reaches three billion berries. monkey d. luffy, one of the four emperors of the sea, he wants to fuck you so badly that he looks stupid.

“what’s so funny, angel?” he murmurs in your ear, grabbing onto your soft, fluffy flesh as he finally, finally jams his whole girth inside your warm pussy.

now, you can’t even grin, let alone move your mouth except to elicit lewd moans because once luffy begins bumping your womb with his puffy cocktip, there’s no more thinking coherently.

“come on,” he teases, eyes delirious, condescending grin stretching his lips. “use your words for me, yeah? i wanna hear you.”

“l… luffy—” choking on your spit, you can do nothing but to welcome his jittery and sloppy thrusts while drooling all over the velvet pillow. “mhm, yes… yes! m… more!”

and it hurts so good. you look so pretty when you’re fucked out of your wits, luffy thinks. tears in your eyes, mouth blabbing his name mindlessly— you’re too perfect that it hurts.

when you look like that, all messy and begging for more, of course he’ll obliged. his hips jitter wildly, cheeks tinted with a flushed pink as he pumps his hips between your own. luffy’s eyes turn blurry from the rush, from the thrill of feeling your gummy walls hug his cock from root to tip.

your pussy juices coats his balls shiny, the wetness adding to the lewd sounds, as he brutalizes your sweet, sweet cunt.

luffy’s mind turns blank whenever he shoots fat cum to your cunt. viscid globules that he plugs you with again and again, until he’s created a mess outside your rawed out pussy, white marks of cum painting your puffy clit and pussy lips.

he trembles all over after the release, and still he refuses to pull his cock out, because your pussy just feels immaculate embracing him like that.

luffy loves fucking you, that’s no secret, but he loves it more when he can smother you with open-mouthed kisses right after the mind-numbing fucking. he has a stamina of a thousand horses, of course he cannot be satisfied until his cum’s turned watery, but while you rest, he likes to suck your tit, and eat your little cunt like a feast. <3

#mine ✮#op smut #op x reader #op x you #luffy smut #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d. luffy smut #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x you #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you

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peachhcs · 1 month ago

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a trip to van

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy spends a weekend in van with her two favorite people

4.5k words

hiii here's this that i've been working on for a few days. i thought this idea was super cutie and wanted to write more quinn and samy dynamic. also lowkey predicting that sjs vs. van game in a week so lol this won't be accurate but anyways let me know if u guys like these longer fics or not bc i think they're fun to write sometimes!! (also i imagine samy taking these pics of quinn and will)

au masterlist

"i actually can't believe you convinced me to let you stay for a whole weekend," the oldest hughes brother teased samy as they climbed into the car once her stuff was in the back.

"oh shut up. you've been begging to spend more time with me. plus, i haven't been to van in years," the younger sibling countered as they shared a laugh.

"yeah, you're right. you're right. it's good to see you, squirt," quinn squeezed her arm across the armrest as they pulled out of the pickup line.

it was thursday night and samy was in vancouver for the weekend to watch her brother and will play one another on saturday. she was ecstatic to say the least to be spending some time with quinn and getting to see will. it wasn't often that the oldest and youngest sibling spent 1 on 1 time together—in the summer if they were lucky, but even then, quinn had things keeping him busy and so did samy.

"mom told me you need to take me to a hundred different places while i'm here. she sent me a whole list," the brunette chuckled.

"oh really? like where?"

"apparently this bakery that sells really good bagels. there's an italian restaurant in downtown mom really liked that she wants me to try. i dunno, i'll send you the list," samy clicked around to add quinn to the note.

"alright, i'll have to check it out. is she expecting me to pay for all your meals this weekend?" the older boy hummed, amusement on his features.

"i mean i won't complain if you do. i am a broke college student," the younger brunette grinned.

"good thing i make millions," samy hit her brother's arm for that comment making quinn laugh out loud.

"you better stay humble for someone making 8.6 million a year," the girl mumbled, still unbelievable that her brothers were that rich for doing something they genuinely loved doing. she knew she'd never make anywhere close to that even if she did put in the same amount of work.

either way, she secretly enjoyed bugging and asking her brothers for things knowing how much money they had and that they could definitely swing helping her out with groceries here and there.

"plus, you got your boyfriend making a good couple hundred thousand. you're in good hands," quinn added and samy just flushed, rolling her eyes slightly.

"don't worry, i know. i've been told many times that i should just drop out of college and move to san jose because will can support us," he poked at her every time about it and sometimes samy also still couldn't believe her childhood best friend now boyfriend was rich enough to support her and she didn't have to do a thing. "don't worry, i got you, squirt. welcome to luxury for the weekend," quinn grinned as he leaned back in his seat and really embraced his millionaire status inside his expensive car and fancy sunglasses atop his nose.

—

later that night, samy sat in quinn's apartment on facetime with their parents plus jack and luke so they could see she made it in safely.

"i'm so happy you had a safe flight! how is it so far?" ellen wondered with a bright smile while quinn slipped into frame.

"it's been really good. quinn's been a really great host," she pinched her brother's cheeks making him push her hands away.

"damn, i'm so jealous i'm not in vancouver right now. it could've been a reunion!" jack exclaimed.

"hey you get to see will in like a week when he plays you guys in jersey," samy smiled a bit, sad that she couldn't fly out for that reunion.

"yeah, i guess. how's quinn's? has he made you his weird protein shake yet?" the middle hughes wondered while luke snickered.

"dude, it's not that bad, i swear. it gets me up in the morning," quinn rolled his eyes.

"oh it's bad, don't try gaslighting yourself. if he does make it, don't drink it. it had me on the toilet for an hour," jack mumbled while samy laughed and ellen and jim just shook their heads.

"well, i'm glad you've been having a good time so far. it's rare that i see my kids getting along on their own," ellen chimed in.

"hey! we get along! what are you taking about?" luke defended himself.

"mhm, yeah, sure you do," jim chuckled.

"we do! i swear. at least jack and i kind of get along better," the second to youngest sibling patted jack's arm and the two boys gave their most convincing smile.

"key word: kind of," samy chirped.

"oh shut up," luke rolled his eyes at his sister.

"there it is," quinn mumbled, concealing his laughter so their parents or luke wouldn't see.

"well, anyway, it's good to see my kids sort of together. you two have fun in van this weekend! i want lots of pictures and tell will we said hi!" ellen cheered, breaking up the bickering before it got worse. her kids smiled, all nodding.

"will do. love you guys," samy waved before disconnecting from the call.

quinn jumped up from the couch to continue making dinner. the siblings sat in comfortable silence for a moment until the older boy decided to keep talking, "so how have you and will been doing? okay?"

"yeah, we're good. we talk like every night. it's good," the brunette nodded.

"good, i'm glad. i'm happy you guys worked things out," quinn nodded in approval.

"yeah, me too. we're still..readjusting, but it's been easy i think now that will's had time to settle into california and the team."

"that's good. i mean it'll take time, but i'm glad to hear it's been easy," samy appreciated her brother's words knowing some may think she took him back way too soon and way too easily.

"thanks. what about you? have you found anyone or been seeing anyone?" she loved poking into her brothers' lives. it wasn't easy with quinn considering how closed off he was and how easy it was for him to hide things because he lived in a different country.

"funny, but no. i haven't really been seeing anyone," the older boy hummed.

"lameee, we need to get you someone. i mean don't you have like girls lined at your feet?" samy giggled, thinking about all the edits she saw about her brothers on tiktok.

"very funny. i'm just trying to work on myself. is that a crime?"

"of course not, but i feel like mom's looking for another daughter," the younger brunette teased a bit.

"she'll find one in jack's girlfriend. i have a feeling he's getting married first out of all of us," it wasn't too out of character for jack since he was the middle child and all.

"you think so?"

"i mean i don't know, but yeah. he likes jumping into those things," quinn chuckled.

"yeah, i could see it. i think it will be jack, you, me, then luke. or luke and i are switched and i'm last."

"you last? that's surprising."

"well will and i aren't getting married anytime soon. we wanna live a bit and establish ourselves before anything serious," samy nodded. she wasn't too big on getting engaged so soon anyways. it was probably the only thing she wanted to take her time with other than having kids. that was a way later thing.

"alright, fair. i guess i could say the same. i'm not looking for anything," quinn shrugged. he wasn't huge on any of those life milestones knowing he'd find his person when he was ready.

"do you think you're gonna stay in van forever?" samy changed the subject, leaning her arm across the back of the couch and resting her head down.

"i mean probably. i've got a good few years left in me. plus, i like it here. it reminds me of being a kid and growing up in toronto," the older brunette smiled.

"i kind of miss living in toronto. i basically grew up there, you know?" a good 12 years of samy's life was spent in toronto and they were probably some of the best years.

"yeah, i know. they were good years for sure. you could always go back, you know. move back up there," it was definitely something quinn thought a lot about whenever he did decide to retire from the ice. even though he loved michigan, those times in toronto would always call back to him.

it called back to all of the hughes siblings.

"yeah, maybe when i'm like forty and will's retired," the girl grinned and quinn nodded in agreement.

the rest of the night, the two watched some hockey highlights and then a movie before calling it a night. samy excitedly awaited will's arrival tomorrow afternoon where he was able to pull a few strings and fly out early to spend a bit more time with her and quinn.

—

the two siblings rode back to the airport to gather will while samy continuously checked his flight to see if he had landed yet.

"the plane's not getting any closer every minute you look at it," the older boy laughed, watching the way his sister constantly looked at the website.

"i know, i'm just excited," the genuine happiness was a good look on samy that quinn enjoyed seeing. he hated seeing her so sad this past summer, so he was glad her spirits were back up and she was her usual, bubbly self.

"does this mean i'm gonna be third wheel for the rest of the weekend?"

"no, i promise. we'll just be all gross and kiss when you aren't looking," the girl laughed to herself while quinn rolled his eyes.

"great, great. thanks for having some decency," the boy mumbled but he was secretly smiling.

they pulled back into the airport pickup line where quinn started getting serious deja vu from yesterday. the two of them sat in comfortable silence on their phones and listening to the soft hum of the radio in the background. a few minutes passed when samy began hitting her brother's arm repeatedly, her face glowing.

"his plane landed! he should be coming out," she squealed, jumping out of the car. quinn followed after, the two of them leaning against the side waiting for the blonde.

the younger brunette was bouncing on her heels, scanning every face that came through the doors knowing will was bound to walk through them any second.

finally, will came through, his big hockey bag slung over his shoulder, backpack strapped to his back and sharks hat to cover his messy hair. samy jumped up, running to greet her boyfriend in the middle where quinn couldn't help the smile on his lips.

will dropped his bag so he could lift samy into his arms, the couple spinning around in their bone crushing hug. "missed you," the brunette hummed, pulling back a bit once her feet were back on the ground.

"i missed you, too. its so good to see you," will's hold on her waist drew her in closer, admiring all of her features up close after only seeing them through a screen for months.

"i'm so excited you're here. this is gonna be so fun," samy grinned and pulled her boyfriend down for a kiss, not caring that they were in public or who was watching.

they melted into one another, lips and bodies molding together. quinn, who was watching the entire exchange, pretended to act disgusted which pulled the two apart.

"sorry to break up this reunion, but maybe save that for back at the apartment?" he raised his eyebrow. samy rolled his eyes while will flushed, letting the girl go.

"good to see ya, smitty. it's been awhile," quinn opened his arms for a quick hug.

"it's good to see you, too, quinn. thanks for letting me stay for the weekend," the blonde smiled.

"my apartment is your apartment. although the ice will be a different story tomorrow," the older boy teased a bit, laughing when he saw will pale a bit.

"just kidding. it's gonna be a good game tomorrow. i'm excited to play you and see what you got," quinn smacked will's shoulder and a bit of a nervous chuckle left the blonde's lips.

"alright, don't scare him. let's get back," samy broke them up, tugging them back to the car so they could stop taking up a spot.

—

once quinn and samy helped will get settled in, the oldest hughes brother let the couple have some time to themselves. they sat out on the balcony curdled up together enjoying the nice weather and city below. it was nice de-stressor for will before the game, too.

"so how do you like it so far? be honest," samy wondered, referring to will's time in the nhl so far.

"i really like it. it's like a dream come true," will said honestly which made the girl smile.

"i'm really glad. you look like you've been thriving."

"i do miss boston and the guys and my family and michigan and you though. it's not the same not having all of you an arm's length away," the blonde frowned briefly, thinking of the boys and his parents on the other side of the country from him.

"i get it. we miss you, too, but i'm glad you've been loving it so far. you've got a pretty big name to yourself now," samy giggled while will rolled his eyes a bit.

"just so you know, i'm only thinking of you when i do those press interviews," his words made the youngest hughes blush, burying her face into his shoulder.

"i actually can't believe all of you are in the nhl now. it still feels like yesterday listening to you guys talk about that dream in our living room, or pretending you were playing a real game back on our rink in toronto," all of those memories were still so fresh in their minds, it was hard to believe it was nearly 10 years ago.

"wow, i remember those days. i was always so excited to fly to canada to visit you guys because i knew i'd get to play hockey," will chuckled.

"back when you were more interested in seeing my brothers than me," samy teased.

"only because we were like nine and thought we were gross and had cooties," the blonde countered and the two shared a laugh.

"i was telling quinn yesterday that i miss being out there. i spent my whole childhood there."

"yeah, toronto holds a lot of good memories for us. i miss it too. maybe we can go back one day?" will raised his eyebrows while a little grin appeared on his girlfriend's lips.

"i had the same thought. i said maybe when you're retired and we're like forty or something," they both laughed again.

"forty? i don't know if i'll be playing for that long. i'll probably be done at around 30 or so."

"so thirty. we'll set our plan now," samy determined and will squeezed his arm tighter around her torso, kissing the top of her head.

"sounds like a great plan."

—

the next morning the apartment was buzzing with excitement mixed with nerves and adrenaline. quinn had to be at the rink in the late afternoon and will needed to meet up with his team, so the three spent the morning getting themselves ready. samy was a bit torn trying to figure out what to wear, wanting to support both will and quinn.

"what do you think?" she stepped out of the bathroom to show off her outfit—a jean mini skirt paired with one of will's sharks shirts that had his name on the back and one of quinn's many canucks hats.

will fell silent as he took in her appearance when she did a full spin. the gears in his head started turning and a feeling he hadn't felt in a while bubbled in his chest.

the whole idea of playing in the nhl was something will dreamed of forever. dating his best friend was another unimaginable dream and now the two were colliding and knowing samy would be in the arena wearing his number and his name so everyone would know she was his...the blonde's brain nearly stopped working.

"will?" samy snapped will from his daze.

"huh? sorry. you look..wow.." he mumbled, losing his train of thought as he snaked his hands around her waist, drinking in her outfit even more.

"what's that mean?" the girl chuckled, noticing her boyfriend's lustful expression.

"i just..i'm so lucky. you look good wearing my name," will dipped his head down to place a kiss to samy's lips.

he pulled her flush against his chest, hands wandering with a mind of their own. samy fiddled with will's loosely buttoned undershirt and other hand dancing into his curls. the hockey player's hands drifted further down her hips until he grabbed ahold of her ass and squeezed. she giggled at the action.

they pulled back for a second, panting into one another's mouths. will wanted more. he craved more and so did samy, so they reattached their lips. a soft moan escaped will when samy pulled particularly hard on his hair. her lips felt so good against his own.

"god, you're so gorgeous," will pulled back, lips tinted from samy's pink lip gloss.

"right back at ya, hot stuff," the brunette winked and will couldn't stop himself. he dove back in for more, the desire burning from his head to the tips of his toes.

he backed her against the wall of the bedroom where his lips started dipping further down onto her neck. samy moaned when will found her sweet spot almost immediately, tugging harder at the base of his curls.

"will...people are gonna see," she said but she didn't make any move to pull him away.

"good, let them see," he said, the possession clear in his voice and fuck, if samy didn't find that super attractive.

"we should stop. you have to go soon," she tried knowing he was due to see his team in thirty minutes.

"how soon?" the blonde mumbled, still attacking samy's neck.

"like thirty minutes."

"i can do it in ten," his words sent a rush of heat down the girl's spine, but she knew they couldn't. not now anyways.

"will, not now. later, i promise," she finally found the courage to pull him away from her. he looked back up, breath heavy and lips swollen in pink. he was such a sight to see that had samy wishing they didn't have to go.

"i'm keeping you to that promise then," will smirked.

a quick knock on the door caught their attention, the two of them tensing slightly. "yeah?"

"leaving in fifteen!" quinn called.

"be out soon!" samy yelled back, returning her gaze to her boyfriend's burning stare, placing one last kiss to his lips.

"you're gonna do amazing out there. don't be nervous. you know how quinn plays."

"i know, i know. just scared he'll rip me to shreds," the blonde mumbled with a low chuckle, samy going to help him get himself together as she buttoned up his shirt.

"even if he does, know he's trying to push you and help you get better," samy knew quinn wasn't going easy on will tonight, but she also knew he was gonna use all the tactics he knew that would push the blonde out of his comfort zone a little to get him to play harder.

it was how luke played on will too whenever they went head to head back in michigan.

the two finished getting ready, slipping out of the bedroom as quinn was making sure he had everything and everything was turned off before they left.

"nice touch," the older boy noticed his sister's hat, smiling a bit as he flicked it up.

"don't worry, i didn't forget about you," she cheesed as the three of them headed down to the garage.

quinn dropped will off around the back of the rink where the sharks were gathering in the locker room. the siblings wished the blonde luck before they drove back around to the front and the cameras and media were waiting for them.

"good luck, quinn. i'll see you later," samy smiled as she climbed out of the car.

"thanks, squirt. text me if you need anything before we get on," the two departed as samy headed to the doors and quinn headed towards the cameras to capture the player's game day outfits and walk up.

—

rogers arena was electric leading up to the game. samy had her spot just behind the canucks bench behind the glass where quinn wanted her incase she needed his attention or something—always looking out for his baby sister even during the game. the two waved to one another before samy searched for will doing his warmups. the black and dark teal was a nice addition to the away game jeresey's and she spotted her boyfriend a little bit further down.

the fans were excited for this matchup, canucks fans loud and eager to get the game underway against the two newest rookies on the sharks. macklin skated by, quickly waving to the brunette. she grinned, waving back and giving two thumbs up indicating good luck.

the game revved up quickly as quinn took to the ice against will in the first period. samy saw how much the sharks were improving with each game, but she knew the canucks still had the upper hand with their older players and more experience. she was on the edge of her seat watching her boyfriend and bother race towards the puck sliding across the ice.

quinn was up in will's business, pushing and shoving the younger boy for the puck, so will pushed back harder. the two were basically dancing with one another, the older hughes brother making will work for it.

some of the other canucks players bumped against the blonde and then in the next second, he was on the ground from a hit. the whistle blew, but will bounced back up, a little flustered but okay. it was a clean hit, so no penalties. samy sighed and then made eye contact with her brother as he skated towards the bench. cool off a bit her look said while quinn just shrugged, but he understood.

at the end of the first, canucks were up 2-0. samy texted her parents updates even though they were also probably watching. she sent quick messages to gabe and ryan as well as hannah.

gabe

ur brother's got killer aim

samy

tell me about it

he's making will work for it

ryan

figures

during every intermission, the cameras always panned to the players' family members if they were in the stands. when the jumbotron showed samy she quickly waved and pointed to her canucks hat. the fans cheered, always excited to see quinn's siblings or parents in attendance.

the second and third periods played out almost the same as the first. the guys were fast on the ice for the puck and scoring goals. canucks led now by 5-3 and samy knew this would be another loss on the sharks side. she knew it'd discourage the boys, but there was definitely improvement from last game. will got his stick on the puck a few times, passing to his line, but still not enough to over power the older guys on the canucks team.

when the game ended the fans cheered loudly for quinn's team. samy cheered for her brother too while also giving will and macklin a smile for trying their best. she knew press would take some time, so the girl mingled with fans as they left the rink and back into the lobby.

she enjoyed getting to talk to girls who looked up to her and parents who congratulated her on having a good soccer season so far, asking questions about conference games and the national title coming up soon.

will came out before quinn now showered and back in his suit. samy made her way over to him, giving him a loving hug and kiss on the cheek, "sorry you lost, but you played well."

"thanks, it's okay. i knew we would against quinn. he definitely pushed me though," the blonde chuckled.

"see, i told you. not too bad," samy grinned, squeezing his arm as the couple waited for quinn.

he came out a few minutes later, waving to the two. "press wants some pics of all of us around back. is that okay?" the older boy wondered while samy and will nodded.

they followed the older boy around the back where the media snapped a few pictures of the siblings and will together to share online later. once those were done, the three climbed back into the car to head back to the apartment, feeling exhausted from the long night.

quinn's ringtone started playing through the car as ellen's name lit up the screen. the older brunette answered, "hi mom."

"hey quinny, great game! you guys back at the apartment in once piece?" the older woman said.

"we're on our way back right now. samy and will are here."

"hi mom," the younger girl called.

"hi ellen," will said too.

"hi guys. sorry you guys lost, willie. you played really well, though. it can be tough with these big, old nhl players," ellen chuckled.

"mom, are you calling me old?" quinn cut in as samy giggled too.

"yeah, i am. just wanted to check in with you guys and make sure everyone had fun. any plans for tonight?"

the three exchanged a glance, the silence taken as probably nothing since the late game tired all of them out. "probably a movie or something. kind of beat," quinn answered.

"i bet. well, have fun guys! i'll talk to you soon. love you."

"love you too, mom," samy and quinn said in unison, giggles escaping both of their lips.

once they got back into the apartment, samy collapsed onto the couch, glad to be back in a warm temperatures and not on a frozen metal bench. will copied her movements, falling down beside her while quinn chuckled at their behavior.

"you guys can pick out whatever movie. want anything to eat?" the older boy wondered as he started shedding himself of his tie.

"whatever you wanna make, we'll eat," samy said.

"got it," quinn disappeared into his room.

"so one day this really could be our life," will hummed, breaking the small silence that had filled between the couple.

"it really could," the brunette agreed as her eyes flicked around her brother's apartment.

"only...2 more years?" the blonde raised his eyebrow.

"possibly depending on what career path i choose," samy reached up to mess with some of the misplaced curls hanging off will's forehead.

"sounds like a dream," the boy smiled warmly, moving so their heads were touching.

"yeah, for real."

will went in to press a sweet kiss to samy's lips, all the love in his chest feeling full and abundant. they pulled apart knowing quinn would come back out any second.

"also i think ryan and gabe wanted to facetime to say hey and talk about the game," samy giggled while the blonde playfully rolled his eyes.

"of course they did. don't forget about that promise you made to me earlier," the boy grinned as samy stood up to change into something more comfortable.

"oh, don't worry. i didn't forget," she winked, heading into the guest room leaving will to quickly follow after her.

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godmadeaterribleerror · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we exit the “enemies” phase, think of the enemies to friends as the match being lit and think of the friends to lovers as the candle taking thousands of words to burn. Chapter title from Homemade Dynamite by Lorde

Word Count: 6.9k (nice)

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Things start to change in the safe house. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Somehow, after the mission, you slept. Not well, but you did. You didn’t see Soldier Boy for almost fourteen hours after that odd moment in your room, only for him to suddenly drop on the couch next to you, watching the newly-fixed TV, holding a bowl and spoon.

“What the fuck is this,” he gestured to show playing on the screen, his mouth half-full with cereal. Crumbs fell into his beard, and he looked at the TV as if it had personally offended him.

You answered slowly, glancing between his loud, sloppy chews and the milk in his bowl, sloshing up to the sides as he settled into his seat. “Netflix.”

“That’s a stupid name for a show,” he snorted. “What does that even fucking mean?”

You shook your head. “No, the show is called Santa Clarita Diet. I’m watching it on Netflix.” He gave you a glance with a frown but remained silent, raising his eyebrows as you stared blankly.

His voice was clipped when he spoke. “What the fuck is Netflix?”

“Oh, um, it’s like a network. Like a modern TV station. It has a bunch of movies and shows, but you don’t have to wait for a certain time to watch them.”

“Huh,” he looked back to the TV. “Cocksucker mentioned something like that. I thought he was making shit up.”

“No, on demand is a pretty common thing now.” You shrugged.

“So all TV is on Newflux?”

“Netflix,” you corrected, growing more and more bemused by the conversation. “And no. We kind of just reinvented cable in a different format. There’s like a million of these websites, Vought even has their own. From what I can tell, the CIA gave us Netflix, Max, Disney, and Prime.”

“They’ll do that, but they won’t buy me weed,” he grumbled. “Fucking uptight pussies.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t get us ad-free Disney or Prime, so I wouldn’t hold your breath about them giving you drug money.”

Soldier Boy only grunted, attention fixated on the TV. The silence between you stretched as you tried to figure out a perfect, organic way to bring up the whole “I told you what Homelander did to me and you put away groceries without me asking, what the fuck is happening” thing. Just as you were about to say something, hoping that the words would find you in the moment, you were cut off.

“What the fuck is this even about?” Soldier Boy asked with a sullen voice, still not looking away from the show.

“Uh, suburban zombies. I can change it if you want.” Anything, you thought, to keep this lack of antagonistic conversation going.

“No.” You waited for more elaboration but realized he wasn’t going to offer any, having fully turned away from you. You both remained on the couch, his eyes locked to screen as you remained in your seat, afraid to move and ruin whatever was happening.

The episode ended without any outbursts from either you or Soldier Boy, and you reached for the remote, only to be hit in the head by a soggy cheerio.

“What the hell?” You picked the cereal from your hair, turning to see Soldier Boy’s frustratingly casual expression. “What was that?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, nodding his head to where your hand had been on the remote.

“Why did you throw cereal at me?!” You snapped, holding the now mushy projectile to his face.

“To get your attention,” he answered, giving you an odd look. “You always get all bitchy when I touch you.”

“Oh.” You hesitated, your confusion only growing. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I can’t read your fucking mind. If it’s because of the Homelander thing, though, then you should remember-“

“No,” you rubbed your face in frustration. “Why did you need my attention?”

He rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. “We’re going to keep watching this shit. It’s the least stupid thing I’ve seen so far. But you should fucking remember-“

“You could’ve just said that instead of throwing shit at me-“

“Would you fucking listen?” His familiar angry glare was beginning to form, so you closed your mouth. “If the touch thing is because of that Star-spangled pussyfuck Homelander, I meant what I fucking said last night.”

Your body tensed, trying to recall what he might be referencing. Last night, along with the previous twenty-four hours, had been replayed so much in your head it had become a simple blur of bad. "What you said?”

“I’m no rapist. I’m not an ugly pussy asshat who needs to.”

You look at him with an incredulous gape. “Needs to?”

“No part of sex is fun if she doesn’t want it. I like my woman begging me to keep going, and I only bite if they ask.” He gave you a brash grin. “I’ll show you whenever you want, Sunshine.”

“Charming,” you said under your breath, employing your now expert skills at ignoring his advances. “Would you like a trophy for the bare minimum?”

“I’m fucking serious.” He hissed, smile dropping, catching you off guard with the intensity and firmness of his expression. “If that’s why you’re so fucking annoying about me touching you, get over it.”

“Get over it?” You give a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? First off, it has nothing to do with Homelander. Second off, if it did, I’m not going to just ‘get over it’ because this is 'annoying' for you.”

“Well then, what will make you get over it?” His question, though impatient, was said with a face of biting sincerity. At least, the closest thing to sincerity you deemed him capable of.

You tilted your head at him. “It’s not something I can get over.” Before he could respond, his mouth opening with a frown and squinted eyes, you continued. “It’s one of my powers. I can feel people’s emotions when I touch them, even if I don’t want to. I can’t turn it off, or ‘get over it’.”

His mouth remained open for another second, and you could almost see his brain slowly turning in his head. You waited, your own mind spinning with possible reactions he might meet you with. Wrathful shouting, angered distrust, cold disgust, forceful words and distance.

“Do you not like what you feel from me?” He asked, no twisted fury on his face, eyes filled with that analytical, intrusive look.

“No, that doesn’t matter to me. It's intrusive, and usually people don’t like when I do it, so I just avoid touching anyone.”

“But you can’t fucking control it.” His words didn’t seem to be directed at you, but his glare made it feel like they were. “It’s not your fucking fault all those pussies have so many fucking secrets.”

You give him a passive shrug. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still against their will.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” he mutters. “For fucks sake.”

You tilt your head at him, unable to place where his disbelief and frustration was coming from, even more unsure who was facing the brunt end of it. “I mean, it can’t be that insane that people don’t like it. It’s not like you’d want someone poking around inside your feelings.”

“Sunshine, of all the things to care about, that is one of the most fucking stupid things I’ve ever fucking heard. No, I don’t care about you ‘poking around inside my feelings’, because I’m not a fucking pussy with something to hide.” He gives you another odd look, accompanied by a pause before he spoke again. “Is that where your name comes from?”

“My, my name?” You feel yourself pale, still trying to fully grasp his previous declaration.

He watches you through narrowed eyes. “Your supe name. The Anomaly.”

Your blood might have evaporated, a petrifying cold running through you. “Don’t call me that.”

“I heard MM and the French Prick using it.” He looked slightly thrown by your response, but didn’t stop pushing. “Is it a fucking secret?”

“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice level, your words acquiring a rambling quality. “It’s completely accurate. I couldn’t think of better one if I tried. Having fou-“ you cut off your slip. “Three completely unique powers on top of the usual supe-sauce is… anomalous. But I fucking hate it. I- I really hate it.” You trailed off, rubbing your arms uneasily.

“Why? It’s just a fucking name.” His voice was casual, almost bored, but he’d leaned forward with feet firmly on the ground, waiting for your answer with an impatient frown.

You’d frozen though, as white walls and straps, cold needles and cuts, and expressionless, masked people above you flashed in your head. Ghosts of fear the first time, devastation the second, emptiness the third, and fury the fourth echoed through your body. Moments of violating change and feelings of uncontrollable, off-balance infestation in your body that would haunt you for the rest of your life. You turned to Soldier Boy, who was still watching with a deep crease in his brow as the TV show played in white noise, and forced words from your chest, to your throat, and out of your mouth.

“If the Russians gave you a name, would you want people to use it?” You said carefully, and watched his first clench at your question, the bowl almost cracking under his grip.

He kept your gaze as he responded, a cool, rough brutality in his words. “I would fucking kill the pussy who was stupid enough to mention it.” You give him a pointed look, and watch the understanding slowly fall into place in his head. All that left him was a grunt, and he turned his body and focused back on the TV, the conversation abruptly over.

The afternoon slipped into evening, the evening into night, and hardly any more words were exchanged. You said good night as you stood to retreat to your room, and he gave a muttered acknowledgment in response. Your sleep was poor but long, and when you walked out into the hall the following morning, you found Soldier Boy standing right outside your door. His arms were crossed, one hand holding the TV remote, and he spoke the moment he saw you.

“Where the fuck is the rest of it?” His intense, demanding tone was far too firm for how early it was.

You gave him a droopy blink, noticing the same shirt and jeans from the day before. “Did you go to bed at all?”

“No. Where is it?” You try to move past him, but he moves to block your path. “Where?”

You rubbed your face, trying to squeeze out the lingering and puffy sleep. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“The show,” he spoke as if it were obvious, continuing to glower down at you as he waved the remote in your face. “You left, and then it was suddenly over and some weird fucking shit started playing. Fix it.”

You squint at him. “That show was canceled in, like, 2018. There isn’t any more.”

His expression was remarkably distressed. “Why the fuck would they do that?!”

“Netflix isn’t great at understanding popular demand,” you rub your eyes again as the dry of your mouth starts to fade. “But there’s like, an insane amount of shows out there. We can find something else.”

“Nothing else is good,” he grumbled. “All that played after was some stupid dating show. I had to watch a group of fucking idiots sit in rooms and whine about love all night.”

“You had to?” You roll your eyes with a snort. “What, did Butcher arrive with a gas mask and threaten to knock you out if you didn’t? If it’s so painful for you, just change it, or turn it off.”

He glares at your mockery, rubbing his neck as he mutters, “I don’t know how.”

"Huh?" His words had passed right through your ears as you tried and failed to keep your slugglish attention from drifting.

"I don't fucking know how," he practically barked, his face red as he refused to look at you. "It's my fucking fault technology is so fucking stupid now."

“Oh,” You feel a small amount of guilt as you realize that his scowl is one of embarrassment, his annoyed tone most likely rooted in frustration. “Wait, how have you been using it for two weeks?”

“I’d just hit buttons until something happened. It worked fine until you started that stupid Netflix shit.”

With a deep breath and sigh, you extend your hand for the remote. When he doesn’t move, you grab it from him with a tug and duck around him. “Follow me.”

Soldier Boy trails after you as you descend the stairs, stopping at your side as you reach the TV. You raise your arm to turn it off, but glance at his still-scrunched face, his bothered expression, and hand the remote back to him instead.

He stares down at his hands before looking back at the TV, then to you, his scowl only more confused. “Nothing fucking happened.”

“You’re going to do it.” You explain, pointing from the remote to the illuminated screen. “I’ll walk you through it, but you’re going to do it yourself.” “Fuck no,” he tries to return the remote to you. “You do it.”

You hold your hands behind your back. “If you want to live any sort of life in the 21st century after this, you’re going to want to know how to use a TV.”

“I can use a fucking TV.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “A shitty, twenty-year-old motel TV. Unless you want us to put you in a memory unit, gramps, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, but he stops trying to pawn off the remote.

“Cunt.”

His knuckles are white around the remote as he gives you an impatient, expectant look.

“Raise your hand like this, with that side,” you tap the head of the remote. “Facing the TV.”

He mimics your movements, and you give a nod of approval.

“Good, now hit that button.” When he doesn’t, you grab his finger and adjust to sit where you had pointed. “Ok, now that one.”

“Why are all these fucking buttons hidden and not labeled. Buttons used to be fucking labeled.”

You shrug. “For most people it’s intuitive, I guess.” You point to another button. “Now hit that one, and I’ll teach you how to search.”

This continues for another painstakingly drawn-out ten minutes. Once you’re absolutely sure he can passably navigate, raise and lower volume, and turn off the TV altogether, you step back.

“That’s it,” you offer him a grin. “Easy as breathing.”

He makes a grumbling, incoherent sound, dropping back on the couch. After a moment of staring at the menu on the screen, he looks up at you from his seat with an irritable frown. “You just going to fucking stand there?”

You blink at him, catch that his curt words are meant to be an offer, and move around the couch and to take the same spot you occupied yesterday. He offers you the remote back, and when you don’t take it he throws it onto your lap.

You give him a tired sigh. “The whole point of this-“

“I’ve never seen any of this shit. You said you’d find something else I’d like, Sunshine. Prove it.”

You raise your brows, but your protests die on your tongue, and you start scrolling through the display.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he grunts over your focus.

“What?” Half your attention still on the TV, you watch him shift forward in your periphery.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he repeats. “I’m not your fucking gramps.”

You glance at him, a hum of amusement leaving you. “You’re over a hundred. It’s not like you’re forty and I’m calling you ancient. Besides,” you give yourself a small smile. “Hughie told me about your little trysts with mature women. Mature woman, forty years your junior.” You stick out your tongue at him. “Cradle robber.”

“I don’t discriminate.” He says, leaning back to lounge on the couch. “And it’s not robbing the cradle if there’s no one that’s-“ he cuts himself off as he almost slips and admits your point. He gives you a glower, daring you to say something. “I’m not old.”

“Someone’s sensitive,” you mumble with a small, genuine smile, and before he can jab back, you hit play on a comedy special, turn the volume to max, and recline into the cushions.

The next set of days pass in similar fashion, and though Soldier Boy doesn’t stop grumbling insults and annoyances, picking small fights, or calling you a bitch, your childish psychological warfare has come to a halt, there’s no more throwing of chairs or explosions, and the word “bitch” off his tongue lacks the malice it did before. You quickly discover that Soldier Boy is a lot more like a toddler than anyone could have possibly guessed. You start leaving out snacks of cheese and fruit on the counter and rarely return to find it still in its spot. If you sit with him, he’ll stay shockingly still, but will make little snipes at the television. Sometimes you catch him after a comment, watching to see if you’re entertained by his words, and learn that even a vaguely amused smile makes him take on an overtly smug grin himself. At one point you start writing down a list of his less than progressive phrases, labeling it “Soldier Boy Racist Grampa Highlights," until he catches you, grabbing the list from next to you when he notices his name.

“The fucks this?” He’d asked as he scanned the page.

“I got bored,” you shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

“This one’s not even that bad,” he pointed to a more recent addition, and you leaned over to read it.

“You called Hughie a cocksucking queer piss-boy. He’s not even here to defend himself.”

“So?”

You just gave him a flat look and returned your attention to the book you’d been skimming. You noticed him pocket the list, though, and over the next few days he started to pull it out whenever the apparently vital urge to insult someone showed its face. While the vulgarity didn’t decrease, the use of language you could only describe as tasteless and bigoted, did. Hughie even received a demotion to a “cocksucking pussy.”

He still rarely slept, instead locking himself in his room late at night and only emerging once you wake up. Once you pass his room on a 3am trip to the bathroom, walking in soft, toed steps to avoid disturbing him, only for the light leaking under his door to flood the hallway as he opens it.

“It’s not morning,” he watches you, leaning against his doorframe. “You should be asleep.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” is what you try to say. But between your clouded brain, restless need for the bathroom, and energy-drained body, what comes out is a string of sounds in a whiny tone.

“What was that?” His voice is taunting, but lacks any real edge.

“Cunt.” You mumble, trying to look at least a little menacing and, based off of what you think is a grin on Soldier Boy’s face, not succeeding.

“Bitch. You know, if you’re not tired, I’d be willing to help get you there.” He’s probably giving you a cocky, suggestive eyebrow wriggle, but between the sleepy squint of your eyes and light casting him in a silhouette, you really can’t tell. When you just make another mumble in response, he chuckles “Go back to bed, Sunshine, you’re going to collapse.”

“Nu-uh,” is all you can manage, and start to shuffle down the hall once more. When you emerge from the bathroom, your vision filled with spots after trying to turn on the lights only to be blinded, his door is closed once more, and you return to your room, collapsing back into useless, terror-fraught sleep.

When you walk into the kitchen that morning, the coffee pot is full.

———-

“What’s the third?”

You look up from your trudge through a CIA-provided, untranslated copy of Beowulf to find Soldier Boy staring at you from the door of your room.

“Third what?”

Taking that as an invitation, he stepped fully through the door to stand at the edge of your bed. “Third power. You’ve got your fireworks and feelings shit, what the fuck’s the third?”

You mark your page and meet his insistent face. “I told you that what, like ten days ago? Did you only now think to ask?”

“Nine days,” he says with an eye roll. “Don’t be fucking dramatic. And you got all pissy about your supe name. Not my fault I tried to respect your stupid fucking woman emotions and dropped it.”

You laugh. “First off, add ‘woman emotions’ to the list. And you totally forgot. I can see right through you, you just didn’t want me to make more old man jokes.”

“You’re fucking doing it anyway." He mutters, taking out the crumpled paper and a pencil from his pocket, using the wall to scratch the addition. “Would’ve been a stupid fucking plan, and I’m not a sensitive pussy who cares about jokes.” He shoves the list back into his jeans, and gives you a scowl as your grin spreads further across your face.

“Literally two days ago you threw a tantrum because I asked you what dinosaurs were your friends.”

“Are you going to answer my fucking question?”

“Fine, you baby,” you snort. “I can heal people by touching them. Technically, I transfer their injuries onto me, and then I heal so quickly it doesn’t matter. That’s mostly what I was doing for the Boys before this.”

“You were playing nurse?” He frowned. “When you can withstand a nuclear blast and are a fucking human molotov? That’s fucking stupid.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I don’t really have any control over the fire. And I wasn’t just ‘playing nurse’, I helped with missions in other ways.”

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic as he gave you a doubtful look. “What, you were a human shield too?”

“Well, yeah.” You mutter sheepishly. “But it was helpful."

“Sure, Sunshine. They must be torn up without you.”

You give him a scowl. “You know, I’m not going to tell you stuff if you’re going to be a fucking dick about it.”

He blinks, mouth curving down. “I was fucking joking.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you shrug, opening up your book. “Get out of my room.”

He doesn’t move. “Why are you being a fucking bitch again?”

You sigh, staring blankly at the pages. You’d admit, even from inside your own head, your anger had blossomed quite suddenly. But his accusations of your team being absolutely unaffected by your absence stabbed you somewhere in your chest, fueling that voice in the back of your head. It was getting louder, reminding you of all that damage in your wake—how your team walked on eggshells when they spoke to you and flinched when you touched them. “Human shield” was the best description of your place within the group. “Nurse” was too generous a term for a person they let touch and heal them only if the hospital was too far away and it couldn’t wait. On rare occasions you’d convince them to forgo their protests and just let you fix their wounds, but it took promises and pleas from you and exhausted caving from them. You look back up at Soldier Boy, who has remained in his place, eyes boring into you as you’d calmed yourself.

“I don’t like being useless.” You say softly. You know the admission could return to bite you in the ass should the peace you and Soldier Boy maintained the past week crumble, but he’d surprised you once. Maybe he’d do it again. “I don’t need you to remind me that I am.”

You watch his reaction, frown growing but fuming annoyance fading. His eyes were overtaken by a surly look you couldn’t figure out. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard.”

Your jaw drops, and that thing under your skin starts to claw against your skull. “Get out.” When he doesn’t move, your voice raises. “Get out!”

“Would you just-“

“Out!” You’re at a full scream now, chucking Beowulf at him. “Get the fuck out!”

“Just fucking listen to me!” He’d stumbled back as the book hit, most likely out of shock more than anything else, but remained in your room. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice smoke starting to curl around you, but you’re too angry to try to calm it. He must notice it as well, because his face pinches slightly, no longer trying to move back to you. “I wasn’t done-“

“What, you got more stupid, cruel shit to say? About how I’m not just useless, I’m a stupid fucking bitch? A useless whore who can’t even cook? An uptight fucking prude?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman, for once in your life, shut the fuck up!” He’s yelling too now, and suddenly you can’t move. It’s not like he’s never raised his voice before, having frequent appearances in your previous daily shouting matches, but this is different. This seeps through the air into your blood and head, shutting everything in you down until all that’s left is fear. Breathing is hard, your heart can’t seem to keep up with your lungs, and your anger is quickly turning into a light-headed, frantic need to go, go, go and hide, or to start clawing and clawing at whatever comes close until this feeling leaves. All of a sudden he’s right there, he’s in front of you and grabbing your arms, shaking you and saying something you can’t hear. Slowly, the tightness around you starts changing, becoming something solid, something firm. You’re annoyed and frustrated, but under it rests an urge to cover your hands in blood over something. Your fragile terror is washed over by a vigilant alarm, and everything suddenly feels sharper. As you emerge from your own brain, you notice Soldier Boy still there, his face level with yours.

“You’re fine.” It’s not a question. He’s telling you, and suddenly you realize that you are. And as you nod, you feel the distress in you fade into something like relief. Your head drops, and you tense once more as your eyes see his hands on your biceps.

“Um,” you look between his grip on your body and his face, drawn with a confusion you can feel in yourself. You gesture your head back down, his own attention following yours, and he lets out a grunt when he sees what you’re glancing at, dropping himself from you.

He draws himself up and turns, and part of you thinks he’s going to walk out the door and leave the rest of your fight for the morning. But he stops when he opens the door, and speaks without turning.

“You’re not useless. That’s what I was trying to fucking tell you. You’re certainly worth more than any of those preachy hypocrites.” Before you can ever open your mouth, he’s gone, slamming the door behind him.

You don’t sleep that night, laying in bed with the sheets feeling too warm and itchy, your thrashing only just slower than your restless thoughts. You stare and stare at the ceiling, trying to comb through the conversation and pick apart every second so you’d know just what to say when the dawn broke. You wanted to, needed to, make sure things didn’t go back to the way they’d been before. That had been exhausting, every part of your waking moments wondering who would blow up first, listing out hypotheticals to ensure that you would win any fight he offered you. You’d take the blame, a scratch in the back of your head told you it was yours anyway, to keep this truce. As the night moves, time becomes uncertain, hours, minutes, and seconds all feeling the same. Your dread turns to shame, to doubt, to a hot, righteous anger.

This won’t wait for morning, you decide. He doesn’t get to do this, make you sink down like this. It might have been your fault, but he doesn’t get to make you sit in it. You’re going to fix this or blow it up, and you’re going to do it now.

He must be up. He’s always up. You’d seen him “sleep” twice, both times in a frighteningly controlled manner, waking himself up the moment his breathing became soft. He’s certainly up, the light in his room is escaping into the hall, and you can hear him shuffling around, but, still, you knock on his door. When it doesn’t open, you knock again, then once more after another minute of inaction.

After the fifth knock, your patience a thin thread, you shout. “I know you’re in there, Soldier Boy! The light’s on, and I can fucking hear you! We need to talk!” The sounds pick up, but still the door is shut. “Let me fucking in, you ass!”

Nothing.

The thread snaps, and you push open the door. The harsh of the light blinds you for only a second, and when your eyes adjust, you're met with the sight of Soldier Boy, asleep, with his face in crumpled in a pained grimace. Sheet askew across the bed as he grunts unintelligibly, his body looks braced against something you can’t see. You’re frozen in your place near the door, agitation forgotten. You want to wake him up, because you know far better than anyone how real these things can seem, how the pain being your head doesn’t stop the echo of it in your body. You want to leave and never speak of this again, because there’s no way he receive you seeing him like this well. But what makes you decision for you, springing you from your rooted place, is the light in his chest starting to brighten as the room starts to hum.

It’s more instinct than anything—you know that the safe house and everything in it has been built to withstand this very thing, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you—as you run to the bed and shake Soldier Boy by his shoulders. When your skin meets his a rush of fear, pure and unbridled fear as strong as it had been from you hours ago, overtakes you. Fear and anger. You don’t think you ever felt this bloodthirsty, savage anger in you before. Your anger had always been cold and zealous, calculating tributes for your sorrow. This anger didn’t care. Somebody just had to hurt, and hopefully that someone would break.

If it’d been any other circumstance, you’d have been terrified by it. But you’re not, focused entirely on waking Soldier Boy up. Later, when several hours were between you and this moment, you’d deal with this. Maybe you’d even acknowledge how, despite the distance, you still may not be afraid of it. But now, with the light only growing, you let his feelings wash through you, and you do something drastic.

You pull back and slap Soldier Boy in the face.

He roars, eyes shooting open and glazed with a feral haze, his body jerking upright and grabbing you by the throat. Even as it happens, hindsight tells you that there probably were other ways to wake him up, but this was the stupid path you’d taken, and you unfortunately could not go back.

Before your vision could grow spotty, before your own fear and images of a flickering light above you could overtake your head, he let go with another shout. You scrambled back, realizing the fever in you had crept out of your spine, trading bruises on your neck for burns on his hands.

You watch him slowly regain control, his face dropping into exhaustion and his eyes searching the room—for what exactly, you’re not sure—and finding you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” The words are low and rough, and though they don’t sound like a question, you answer him anyway.

“I- I just wanted to talk, and you weren’t answering the door…” You trail off lamely, your words sounding hollow even to you.

He doesn’t yell at your though, or push you out. He just stares at you, as if you’re meant to continue, to try and justify your presence. But you just stare back, unsure if you want him to kick you out, talk to you, or just pass out and forget the whole thing.

Instead of those options, leaving you at yet another loss, he sits back and scoots over to the far side of the mattress. When you don’t react besides another prolonged stare, he gives a half-hearted eye roll and pats the space next to him. Slowly, slightly fearful of misunderstanding his gesture, you walk over and drop on the bed at his side.

He’s looking ahead, unreadable from only his side profile, when he speaks.

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

You don’t stop watching him as you respond. “Does that happen every time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have anything else to say—any reassurance you can think of sounding stupid even in your head. So you wait, still watching him, and sit in the silence.

“Do you not have any?” His voice is strangely soft, though no tension has left his body.

You give a small sigh. “I do. But I’m good at hiding them. Stuff like that,” you wave a hand to his chest. “Only happens on bad days.”

“Bad days?” You can see his frown forming as his lips turn down, his voice growing deeper.

“On a few missions, I saw Homelander,” you whisper, now staring ahead yourself. “From afar. Really afar. I know he didn’t ever even see me, because I’m not back… there, but whenever I see him, apparently it’s enough.” You turn back to Soldier Boy, and are met with him watching you.

“Is that what yours are about?”

You give a small nod. “Different things happen, but it’s always him. Always there.”

“Hm,” his eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “How do you stop them?”

You don’t have to ask what he means. “I don’t stop them, I just keep them in here.” You tap your head. “And I think of before. About how it was.”

“That helps?”

“As long as I don’t let myself remember that it will never be like that again.” You can’t hide the pain the words give you.

“What was it like?”

“Before? It’s was normal,” you shrug. “Boring.”

He tilts his head at you. “Normal?”

“Normal,” you repeat, watching his face as you speak.

He frowns, and looks away. You notice him swallow heavily, glaring at the wall. “Like,” he swallows again. “Like what?”

“Well, I had parents. Siblings. I had friends, I worked, I went to school-“

“School?” He turns back to you. “You're an adult, did they make school fucking longer?”

You feel a small smile quirk your lip. “No, I was doing a postgraduate. I’d actually just finished. Technically, I’m a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Of Anthropology, yeah. I know less about human medicine than WebMD.” You pause. "That’s like, a website that’s famous for giving bad medical advice. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“And you think you know less than it?”

“Oh, I know I know less than it.”

He snorted, returning to watch the wall. “That’s fuckin ironic.”

You nod in amusement. “Yep.”

When you don’t continue, he looks back once more. “What else?”

“I lived alone. Small, shitty studio on the Upper West Side. I visited my dad in Boston once a month-“

“Just your dad?”

“Yeah, my mom wasn’t dead, she’s just a bitch.” You hear Soldier Boy cough what might have been a laugh, but you ignore it. “She and my dad divorced when I was like, ten. They had joint custody, but I stopped talking to her when I was fifteen.”

“Harsh,” he mutters. “What, she ground you one too many times?”

You decided that holding back about thing like this was a need long gone. “She tried to send me to a medical boarding school in the Berkshires.”

“What the fuck is a ‘medical boarding school’”

“Like a psych ward where they teach you math.”

“Huh,” he raises his brows at you. “You need one?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I already knew math.”

He stares at you blankly, a smile having crept onto your face. “You’re… making a joke.” He said slowly.

“Yep,” you nudge his shoulder with your own. “That’s what a good one sounds like.”

He lets out a low laugh. “That wasn’t that fucking good.”

“You laughed.”

“You can’t fucking prove it.”

You’re grinning fully now. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, gramps.”

He rolls his eyes. “So your mom’s a bitch, you lived alone, and you can’t even cook. That’s just fucking sad.”

“New York is famous for its food,” you mutter. “And I can heat stuff up, as you very well know.”

“You can’t coast on box macaroni forever, Sunshine.”

“Been working fine for both of us so far.”

He gives you an amused look. “You’re not trying to seduce me.”

“What the fuck does that have to do-“

“You don’t have to impress me,” he continues, unfazed. “Your cooking doesn’t matter. What’d you do when you were hungry for dick?”

You stare at him. “You’re unbelievable.” He only returns your glare with a cocky grin.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet, Sunshine.” He winks, and you roll your eyes.

“Men aren’t big pussies about that stuff anymore,” you smile as his face drops at your claim. “And I never spent a lot of time being ‘hungry for dick’, anyways.”

“What, you have a loyal boyfriend?” he taunts.

“Nope,” you give him a grin. “But I had a sweet old lady in the apartment across the hall who brought me food every weekend. You’d have liked her, she was just your type.”

He grunts, but not with annoyance. “All I hear is no boyfriend, no friends, and can’t cook. Like I said, just fucking sad.”

“I had friends!” You protest. “We’d do karaoke every Friday!”

“You can sing?”

“Nobody who does karaoke can sing,” you dodge with ease. “But we had fun.”

He lets out a labored breath, and when he turns to you this time, you notice how bloodshot his eyes are.

“Would you go back?” He asked. He was watching you so carefully, and you once again are left confused by the look in his eyes.

“I don’t think I could.” You answer, your voice sounding far away, a memory of a gravestone flashing in your head. “I don’t think it would be fair to them.”

“Fair to them?” He gives a doubtful huff. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“Really?” You challenge. “I don’t think it’s stupid to not want to pull the people you love into this shitshow. I got a chance to keep them out of this life. Most people aren’t that lucky.”

Soldier Boy only shrugs. “Bad things will still fucking happen to them.”

“Bad things happen to everyone.” Your words are firm. “I’m making sure they don’t fucking die.”

“Well,” he turns back to the wall. “Aren’t they fucking lucky they have you.”

You know his words are meant to be cold and sarcastic, his face has even dropped into a scowl. But there was no sharpness behind them, and the rest of his face just looks… so tired. You hate it, it’s leaking into you and you’re not even touching him. You really, really want it to stop. So, you say the only thing that you can think of.

“Nobody taught me,” you say softly.

“What?” His red eyes give you a confused glance.

“I can’t cook because nobody taught me how. My mom didn’t care to, I don’t think it ever occurred to my dad, and eventually everyone just assumed that I could and I didn’t want to correct them. I turned into some sort of rage against the patriarchy shit in my head, but it’s a just life skill that I can’t do because nobody wanted to teach me.” You give him a sad smile. “I don’t think they felt as lucky to have me as you think.”

“So why’re you protecting them?” He asks, a puzzled frown on his face. “If those pussies didn’t fucking care about you, then they don't fucking deserve it.”

You shrug. “I know. But I’m going to keep doing it anyway.”

His eyes on yours have that look of dissection again, but it’s no longer violating, only prying carefully. You’re not sure how long passes before he speaks.

“It’s late,” he mutters. “You should sleep.”

You hesitate, but nod and stand. You move to the door, glancing back to see his still watching, alone on the bed. From here, he somehow looks more tired, the light making the circles around his eyes more prominent and the color on his face more washed out. You think it’s the most human you’ve ever seen him.

“Good night, Soldier Boy,” you say gently, and turn to leave.

You almost don’t hear his response.

“You don’t have to call me Soldier Boy,” the words are said under his breath, and when you turn, he has a soft frown. “Ben’s fine.”

You blink, and a small, unforced smile crosses your face. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ben.”

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kaciidubs · 11 months ago

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24 to 25 [Merry Christmas] | 8 Days of SKZcember

Prompt: meeting each other's family for the first time over the holidays

❣ Summary: There was a first for everything, and Christmas in Australia was definitely one of them. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 2.07k ❣ Warnings: Fluff, comfort, Chris is a doting boyfriend, slight humor, the whole Bang family is here ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, and Love, unedited, this was meant to be short, not over 2k words ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ SKZcember 2023

Having family living in a different part of the world often meant having to visit whenever time off would allow; however, having a boyfriend in the industry whose family also lived in a different part of the world apart from your family meant those visits were even rarer.

“...and once again, we would like to thank you for flying with us this Christmas eve.”

Toying with your fingers subconsciously, you glanced out of the window of the plane at the vast expanse of land thousands of meters below, your stomach doing flips in the meantime.

“Baby?”

A soft touch brought you out of your thoughts, turning your head to see Chris’s hand covering yours with a gentle squeeze added for good measure.

“If you’re nervous about the landing just close your eyes - you can even close the blind if you want?”

Your heart fluttered and you had to stop yourself from swooning at how cute he was, squeezing his hand back with a small smile, “It’s not the landing that I’m nervous about, Channie - well, not entirely nervous about.” Looking down at your entwined hands, you deflated slightly in your seat, “I’m just worried they won’t… like me, you know?”

You were both currently on your way to Australia to visit Chris’ family for the holiday; the decision being made after a long winded debate and heavy consideration over you not wanting to take the opportunity away from his visiting home, and him not wanting you to sacrifice seeing your family just for him - the resolution resulting in two plane tickets and the promise of the next vacation dedicated to your hometown.

Chris scoffed your name lovingly, “You’re worried over that? You know my mom adores you, and my dad asks about you whenever he calls - and you already know how Hannah is, you guys basically talk everyday! Hell, even Lucas brings your name up, you know how rare that is?”

“Hannah doesn’t count cause I’ve already met her - but your mom, dad, and Lucas? We’ve only ever talked over the phone, it’s different from meeting in person - what if I’m not what they expected?”

“Love, look at me.”

Looking at him with a soft pout, he gave you a comforting smile, eyes shining with a fondness you’d fallen for time and time again.

“My family is going to love you, because I love you, okay? They’ve heard me talk about you so much that my mom actually started threatening me to bring you to visit!” When you cracked a smile at his confession, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, “Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?”

Giving him a small nod, you watched as he pressed a small kiss to your knuckles just as the seatbelt light turned on and the plane prepared for its final descent.

It wasn’t long until the plane touched down and you were both following the line of passengers toward baggage claim and car rentals, Chris claiming that having more than one car would be best this time around.

“Alright,” he clapped his hands, seat belt buckled and car running, “Hannah knows we’re on our way - apparently Dad’s busy grilling and Mom’s running around trying to make sure the house is in order.”

“And your brother?”

“Waiting to catch Mom’s reaction when we walk through the door, I’m sure.”

The time between the car pulling out of the rental lot and rolling down the familiar streets of Chris’ childhood neighborhood seemed too short to be true, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your seatbelt as you looked through the window.

“Baby, you’re doing it again.”

Huffing out a short laugh, you shook your head, “I’m just excited - nervous, but excited. Don’t act like you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if you were meeting my parents!”

He puffed out his cheeks, “I wouldn’t!”

“Chris, you practiced talking on the phone for ten minutes before we video called my family for the first time.”

His silence was enough for you to laugh harder, cooing at the blush tinting his ears as he pulled the car into the driveway.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to gather your bags - or, rather, for Chris to gather the suitcases like the gentleman he was while you handled closing the trunk after - and make your way up the short path to the front door.

He looked at you with a glittering smile, tilting his head toward the entrance, “Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to quell the butterflies in your stomach and nodded, signaling him to ring the doorbell.

The sound of muffled barking soon followed suit, Berry readily alerting the home of their potential guests.

“Coming!”

No less than a second later, the door swung open to reveal a bright eyed Hannah, a wide smile stretching her lips as she practically flung herself into your arms with an excited squeal of your name.

“You made it! Oh my god, hi! Welcome to Australia!”

You hugged her back with a laugh, “Thank you! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I’m here too, you know.” Chris muttered, though the smile on his face betrayed any attempts of annoyance he tried conveying. “Your older brother? The person you grew up with?”

“Exactly, I grew up with you which means I’ve seen enough.”

“Hey!”

Breaking from the hug, she led you both into the house as she went to find the rest of the family, leaving you and Chris in the foyer with a very excited, yet curious Berry.

Your boyfriend wasted no time in crouching down, baby voice in full effect, “Hi, Berry! Berry! Hi! I missed you! I missed you so much!”

The king charles spaniel jumped onto his arms, panting happily before falling back down with a series of excited barks and tail wags, then turning her attention to you with similar gusto.

Bending down, you offered your hand for her to sniff with a small smile, “Hi, Berry, it’s nice to meet you! Chris talked about you so much, part of me thought this trip was just to see you and no one else.” When her curious sniffing stopped, she ducked her head under your hand for you to pet her, which you graciously accepted, “Oh, aren’t you the cutest? You’re the best girl, aren’t you?”

The sound of footsteps broke you from your puppy praise break and you stood just in time to see his mom rushing around the corner with a bright smile on her face, “Oh my goodness!”

Taking the initiative, Chris stepped forward with an equally wide smile, an air of sheepishness surrounding him as if he were a teenager bringing home their first partner. “Hi, mom.”

She wasted no time in pulling him into a hug, holding him in her arms as much as she could despite how grown he had become - the epitome of a mother’s hug, always ready to cradle their child no matter how much they’ve changed.

Your heart swelled at the display, catching a few murmurs of how much she missed him and how big he’d gotten until she pulled away to look in your direction.

“I feel like I’ve heard so much about you already that I don’t even need an introduction,” she laughed, letting her son out of her arms to stand next to you, “but I’ll let him tell me anyways, I know he’s been practicing this moment.”

“Mom, really?”

“That’s hilarious,” Lucas snickered from the sidelines, which gave you the chance to notice him holding his phone, most likely recording for future memories.

Huffing lightly, Chris took your hand in his and you squeezed in earnest, watching him relax considerably. “Mom, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend,” he turned to you, a warm smile on his lips, “and this is my mom, the person responsible for giving me life.”

“And your good looks,” she teased, stepping forward to bring you into a hug similar to the one she gave him; welcoming, comforting, accepting. “It’s so nice to finally meet you - pictures do not do you justice!”

You could feel yourself melt in her embrace, your previous nervousness vanishing into thin air, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Bang.”

“Oh, please, it’s an honor finally meeting the person who’s responsible for my son being this happy,” holding you at arms length, she gazed at you with sparkling eyes, “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Just as you went to give another complement, the smell of grilled meat wafted through the air and Chris all but floated off of the ground; a weary sigh escaping him as he eagerly looked toward what you could only assume to be the kitchen.

“I missed dad’s grilling so much.”

“Good, cause he’s been at it all day,” Hannah shrugged, looking at you with a smirk, “He made one of everything - I’d like to think of it as pregaming Christmas dinner.”

Their mom let you go and headed through the hall, “I’ll go help with setting the table - Chris, your room is all set if you want to drop off your suitcases and give her a quick tour, other than that I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

He gave her a short hum in response, sharing a quick hug with Lucas and a brief introduction between the two of you before guiding you to his old room - or, better known as the room you’ll be sharing for the next few days.

“If the bed’s too small, I can always camp out on the floor, you know.”

You scoffed out a laugh as you danced your fingers along the carefully laid out blanket, “You say that as if we don’t practically sleep under each other already - this is perfect, baby.”

You couldn’t help but take in the details of his old room, scanning over the posters and pictures that decorated the walls, and spotting the board of medals that laid propped against the floor - not that it was hard to miss considering the wide array it held. Before you could get entranced by any more trinkets and hidden gems, his hand gently grabbed yours and he pulled you into his space, trapping you in his arms with a careful gaze.

“How are you feeling so far? If you’re tired from the flight I can always ask my dad to save you a plate for later, he’ll understand and-”

“Baby, I’m okay!” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you smiled up at him, “I’m not tired, and I’m not worried anymore - meeting your mom made me realize I had nothing to be scared about, and just from smelling your dad’s food I know we’re going to get along just fine!” You narrowed your eyes slightly, tilting your head with a soft pout, “Are you okay? Not that I hate the sudden check in, but you seem stressed, Chris.”

Heaving a deep sigh, he ultimately relaxed in your arms, a tired smile falling on his lips, “I’m okay- more than okay, actually, I’m just…” He stared at you, brown eyes warm with love, “I guess I’m just excited over having you here with me, with my family - I want to make sure everything’s perfect and I’m not pushing you into things too soon.”

Cooing at his sentiment, you laid your head on his chest, surrounding yourself in his scent and warmth. “Channie, you’re not pushing me into anything, you hear me? I’m happy we decided to come here, and even if we haven't been here long, I already feel more than welcome.”

His hold on you tightened a bit more as he rested his cheek on the top of your head, grounding himself in the moment until his mother’s voice floated through the hall.

“Chris! Food’s ready!”

“Well,” pulling away from him, you shot him a teasing smile, “ready for your first family dinner featuring your extremely brave girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your antics, “My brave girl, for sure - I was born ready for this.”

As you led the way out of his room, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he snuck a glance at the screen to see a text from your mom; your family’s flight still on schedule to land tomorrow morning.

Biting back his grin, he sent a quick text in return before grabbing your hand and guiding you toward the dining room.

“Dad, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bangchan fluff #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader

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xuchiya · 10 months ago

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cyber sex [k. hongjoong]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ I wanna get freaky on camera I love when we get freaky on camera ₊˚.༄

it was those times you earned something after working hard; not those times where you had a long day or done a lot on your to-do list, more than what you wrote down.

after a long time at your office, long hand striking on 11 indicating close to midnight. you toss your bag on your bed, unclamping your hair free, shaking to loosen the tangled hair as you settle down on your computer chair.

"looks like february filth fest is starting ..." you smirk as you scroll down your feed to see posts of different users. you giggle, looking at the video of lip syncing yet sensual, touching their bare parts. then suddenly a thought of your boyfriend who was across the globe for his runaway party.

your smirk got bigger as you stood up rushing towards your wardrobe to pull out his favorite lingerie that he bought on your birthday.

after placing them, you apply a little makeup to emphasize your lips and eyes until you open the camera of your laptop, setting your phone to the side to record your reflection from the laptop.

(adding a little red light in the background.)

the music starts and so do your hands, mouthing those lyrics that you were meaning to tell them to hongjoong for a while. your fingers hook themselves on the strap of your bra; slowly dropping them.

your cleavage was very prominent when you squished them with your arms; give it a little shake, hands on them before mouthing the words, "i wanna get freaky on camera .." then you remove your bra, exposing your breast on the camera.

"i love when we get freaky on camera ..." you grope your boobs, while looking at the camera as if looking straight at hongjoong. running your hands around your chest then letting them crawl up on your neck. after feeling satisfied with your performance, you sent the video to him.

hongjoong almost drop his phone at the event; adding to the fact his heart soar when you casually jiggle your chest just like that. his eyes following every move of your hands, your chest glistening with your makeup highlights. his pants were once comfortable to be in, free and soft but now, it was as if those thoughts were just mere words form in his head when he saw you getting sensual.

"i see you have been ... busy, baby." you bit your lip, one hand running down your folds while the other pinching your erected nipples, position in front of your laptop camera. facetime with hongjoong.

you whimper, "i miss you that's why ..." arousal leaking out of you as hongjoong position his phone, lowered just above his hips; his whole upper body can still be seen. his dick can be seen pressing uncomfortably inside his dress pants.

"yeah? you do? spread those legs baby." you place both of your legs each on the armrest of your chair; exposing yourself more on the camera. you can hear hongjoong groaning, "fuck i can't wait to get home. and taste that pussy."

"oh hongjoong~" your fingers rub shamelessly on your sensitive buds, rapidly caressing them. hongjoong palm his hard; jerking them on his pants before undoing his belt then his zipper.

when hongjoong knew he can't hide his erection; mostly on the thousands of paparazzi, he has to go. and now he's back inside his hotel room, aroused by your intimacy.

"spread those lips for me." two fingers spread your folds open, hearing honjoong hiss made you aroused and turn on even more. he loves it when you do that, all stretching out just for him.

honjoong had his dick in his hand jerking it as he watches you messes yourself with the dildo you bought for yourself. he had love to see you fall apart on the silicon, yet he knew how you go dumb underneath him when it's his dick ramming inside.

"faster~ yeah that's it." you swiftly entered the dildo in and out of your hole, squelching sounds every time it comes back in. your hips jerking everytime the tip hits your pelvis, making your eyes rolled at the back of your head in pleasure; thinking that the one hitting those spot where hongjoong.

hongjoong groans, breath hitching in his throat when he hears your cries— whimpers he know so much. his throat erupted in dark chuckles, “are you gonna cum? But i want to see you squirt. Squirt those juices on my dick, come on baby.”

Your body jerks at the amount of pleasure, yelping as you arch your back; hand continuing to abuse your pussy-hole with the dildo. You felt that familiar coil in your stomach, making you bit your lip, “oh hongjoong~ i’m cumming fuck fuck!”

As expected in hongjoong, he stare as your cunt spurt out juices, a long string of “fuck” left your lips as you used the dildo to grind on your pulsing pussy. your body relaxes after a minute before you chuckle, “did i do great?”

hongjoong nodded, still had his hard on his palm, your tongue glaze on those veiny cock of his. He may be towered by his members but that monster underneath those clothes says otherwise.

“Yes baby but i haven’ cum yet … can you help me?” you nodded, sitting properly this time. You know how to get him done, he loves when you ruin and ride the dildo like how you ruin and ride him.

Placing the dildo flat on the seat, you turn around so your back is exposed to him as you ride the dildo. Sitting on your knees, you sheathed yourself down, gripping the backrest tightly; you were still sensitive from your first orgasm.

You slowly bounce yourself on the dildo, turning your head over your shoulders, “so good hongjoong~fucking me this good.” hongjoong’s threw back as his hand speed up, mouth agape. Broken whimpers left his lips when he can feel the coil knotting.

he loves when you talk dirty whenever you were riding him. it always had his head on the clouds.

"fuck baby you're so hot riding that--shit i'm gonna cum baby!" hongjoong panted, eyes watching as you pick up your pace.

His last straw was when he saw you jerk up, pulling out the dildo then another gush of your juices spurts out of your pussy, again “fuck baby~!” Hot loads of his cum covered his hand including his dress pants but he didn’t give one fuck about it. His chest rose watching you clean up, a smirk on his lips, “i’ll see you tomorrow baby.”

You blew him a kiss not before throwing your lingerie on the camera before ending the call.

taglist: @vantediary

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez fanfic #hongjoong ateez #hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #ateez au

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withwritersblock · 6 months ago

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Oh! Darling pt. 2

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: someone had asked for a part two and this is the best I could do teheh Summary: The months after the loss in game 7 Warnings: swearing? Word Count: 2,754 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

The buzzer went off and his entire body felt overwhelmingly heavy. The last three months of his life have been the most exhausting. The sound of the Oilers players cheering and screaming as they skated towards one another. Quinn kneels onto the ice, his eyes filling with tears. He was never emotional but his body was exhausted. His mind was full of dread and right now all he wanted to see was his little girl.

Brock skated beside him, resting his hand onto his shoulder as Quinn hung his head low. “We gotta hit the handshake,” Brock mumbled. Quinn nodded as he reluctantly got onto his feet. He nearly collapsed as he skated forward. Brock took a hold of Quinn’s arm, helping him up.

He tilted his head back, looking up to the stands. Watching thousands of disappointed fans leave the stands. He clenched his jaw as he led the line. He pressed his lips together as he tilted the helmet back. He made eye contact with Connor, a soft smile formed to his lips. “You’re killer man,” Connor muttered out.

“Thanks, Go get ‘em,” Quinn forced out. He mumbled as he continued down the line, taking the praises of the team that just beat them. Embarrassed them. He craved to know the feeling of the other side. It only added fuel to the fire under his belt. He was captain, he needed to carry this anger onto the next season. Pre-season was already on his mind.

He started the skate towards the dressing room, his eyes were on his skates as he continued down the tunnel. The words of the coaches were silent as his mind was foggy. He was mad at himself and feeling his chest ache as he continued down the tunnel. He walked towards his stall, tossing his helmet into it. He continued to rip off the rest of his gear, frustration oozing from his body.

No one else says anything when they enter the locker room as they all begin to take off their gear. Quinn sat down staring towards the floor as he clenched his jaw.

“Quinn, need you for an interview,” One of the interns offered as he stepped into the locker room. Quinn lifted his gaze, meeting the eye of the young twenty year old. Quinn nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Quinn stood up as he blindly followed the young kid towards the interview room.

He was quickly covered in cameras and tiny microphones. He took in a sharp breath as he stared blankly towards the collection of microphones. They were firing questions towards him and he was able to answer them but he couldn’t tell anyone what he actually said. He answered with his media training answers for tough losses. This was his toughest one yet.

He walked out of the locker room, showered and ready to head home. He lifted his gaze to see Y/N standing beside Jack. His eyes widened as he met his younger brother’s gaze. “Jack,” he mumbled as he jogged towards them. “You’re supposed to be in Michigan,” he mumbled as he hugged Jack. He pulled away before he engulfed Y/N in a hug.

“Game sevens are tough man, I’m sorry it didn’t go the other way,” he muttered out. Quinn took in a sharp breath as he pressed his lips together.

“Yeah, me too.” Quinn expressed as he planted his lips to Y/N’s cheek. “Come on, Ellie has to meet Uncle Jack,” he mumbled as he began walking towards his car at the opposite end of the parking garage.

~~~

It was late but the adrenaline from the game was overwhelming. Quinn wouldn’t be able to sleep, Jack slept his whole five hour flight. Y/N definitely could sleep but she wanted to be supportive of Quinn. Jack, Quinn, and Y/N all slowly entered Ellie’s nursery as quietly as they could.

She was a very heavy sleeper for a baby, which always caused worry for Quin and Y/N. Always paranoid that she wasn’t actually sleeping, which always led to Quinn wide awake at three in the morning holding his tiny fragile little girl in his arms. He loved hearing the sound of her faint breathing, knowing that she was safe and healthy was all that mattered.

“Sit,” Quinn demanded for his little brother on the rocking chair beside the crib. Jack hesitantly sat down in the rocking chair, careful for it to not hit the wall behind him. He nervously glanced around the nursery.

“Are you sure? What if she wakes up?” Jack asked in a hushed tone. Quinn rolled his eyes as he leaned down into the crib, carefully cradling the small little girl.

“She’ll be fine,” Quinn mumbled as he walked towards Jack. Jack straightened up, holding his arms out as if a football was about to be placed in his hands. Quinn tried to stop the laughter rising in his throat. “Look at my arms, do that,” he mumbled towards Jack. He quickly listened, adjusting his grasp as Quinn slowly handed Ellie over to Jack.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Jack mumbled as he stared towards the sleeping baby in his arms, his niece. His first niece. She was so small, much smaller than he had expected. “So tiny,” he mumbled out. Y/N inched towards Quinn, snuggling up to him watching Jack interact with his niece for the first time.

“Careful with her head,” Quinn let out. Jack nodded as he adjusted, slowly supporting her tiny head more.

“You better not tell Lukey, I cried, alright, I’m supposed to be the tough one,” he mumbled out, sniffling as he rocked slowly. Quinn chuckled softly as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. She was already looking towards him with so much admiration.

“I’m proud of you,” she mouthed towards Quinn, he smiled softly as he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers for a brief second. “I’m going to head to bed, I love you,” she whispered towards Quinn. He nodded as he let her slip away from his grasp.

Quinn quickly kneeled down beside the rocking chair, as he kept his gaze on his sleepy little girl. “Dude, she’s your kid, this is crazy,” Jack let out as he licked his lips nervously. Quinn smiled widely as he looked towards the tuffle of hair on her head. It was becoming thicker as the last few months have progressed.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he let out as he continued to look over at her. Jack could simply nod. “She makes me forget about every bad thing that’s happened. Like how could I be sad when I have a daughter, who’s the sweetest little thing in the world,” Quinn expressed as he slowly ran his fingers across her tiny head.

Jack lifted his gaze, watching his brother admire the baby girl. He knew his brother would be a good dad, but he never expected that to happen during a prime time in his career. He was good at handling both sides of his life.

“Still can’t believe you’re a dad,” Jack let out, “My brother, who used to hit me over the head with a hockey stick is a dad,”

Quinn tilted his head back laughing quietly, “I did not,” he muttered. Jack lifted his head with his mouth open.

~Two weeks later~

Quinn was lying on the couch with Ellie napping on his chest. He was watching the cooking show on the screen as he was soothingly running his hand up and down the tiny back of his daughter.

“I know you’re asleep but the second those little hands can hold things you’re going to help me cook,” he whispered. His phone started vibrating in his pocket. His eyes widened as he quickly dug his phone out as quietly as he could. He pulled the phone towards his ear. “Lukey, the doors unlocked,” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Luke asked, he sounded slightly winded as he was probably climbing the eight flights of stairs towards the apartment. Luke had a minor fear of elevators, especially ones that last more than four flights.

“Ellie is asleep on my chest in the living room so be very quiet please,” Quinn mumbled. He delicately placed the phone down on the coffee table as he hung up the phone. He slowly started to sit up with his hand holding the back of her head and her tiny upper back. He still held her against his chest as he sat up slowly, she squirmed as she slowly woke up.

“Shoot,” he mumbled as she slowly babbled. “Your Momma is going to be so mad I cut your nap short,” he whispered as he slowly pulled her face away from his chest, smiling towards her.

Luke stumbled into the room, tripping over his own foot in the process, “Shit-shoot my bad,” he let out louder than he intended. Luke’s eyes widened as he slowly shut the door behind him, “Oh shit did I wake her-oh shoot, I’m sorry,” Luke panicky whispered.

Quinn stood up from the couch as he maneuvered the little girl to his side, her tiny eyes looked towards Luke, looking him up and down. “You’re good, I woke her because I tried to sit up,” Quinn said while laughing, “Get over here Lukey,” Quinn took a couple of steps towards Luke. Luke awkwardly rubbed his hands together as he stared towards his niece for the first time.

Luke pouted his lips as he felt his eyes tear up. “Wow,” he let out. Quinn smiled as he walked towards his youngest brother.

“Do you want to hold her?” Quinn asked, a small smile on his lips. Luke’s eyes widened as he shook his head.

“No, I’m clumsy, I’ll drop her-she’s too cute to be dropped,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Go sit,” Quinn ushered Luke over with his free hand. Luke let out a nervous sigh as he walked towards the couch.

“What if I drop her?” Luke mumbled as he walked towards the couch and awkwardly sat down. Quinn rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Luke.

“If you drop her, I got these dad reflexes now; I can save her,” Quinn expressed as he jerked his head back and forth as he let out a teasing huff of air. Luke rolled his eyes playfully.

“Where’s Y/N?” Luke asked as he awkwardly stared towards Quinn.

“She’s out with Riley for the morning. Over the last couple weeks, I’ve spent most of the day with Ellie. Y/N was crazy busy with her while the playoffs were going on, so she’s getting a bit of a break,” he explained while he handed Ellie over to Luke. He held her nervously as he awkwardly held her forward. “She’s not a bomb, Luke,” Quinn said laughing.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he let out as he nervously brought her closer to his chest. He laid her in his arms awkwardly as he met her tiny little gaze. He pouted his lips as he looked over his niece.

“Like you could hurt her, Gentle Giant,” Quinn offered as he patted Luke on his shoulder. “Look at that, you’re a natural,”

“She’s got a lot of hair,” Luke observed as he shifted his head around looking at his niece from all different directions. Quinn nodded.

“Apparently Y/N was the same when she was a baby,” Quinn mumbled as he rested his hand on the back of the couch. Luke teared up as he swallowed hard.

“God, she was so tiny in the photos and videos. She’s so big now,” Luke expressed, as he sniffled. “She better be in Michigan every summer from now on. No more boys only trips, she’s gotta be there,” he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

“So you can prove you’re the cool uncle?” Quinn teased.

“One hundred percent,” Luke muttered out. Quinn started reaching for Ellie. Luke furrowed his eyebrows, protectively holding her closer, “I’m not done,” he let out. Quinn chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

“I gotta grab her a bottle,” Quinn explained.

“Then you grab one and I’ll just stay here with my niece,” Luke sing-songed. Quinn rolled his eyes playfully as he stood up from the couch dramatically.

~September~

“Alright baby girl, you got your hat on, check, adorable blue dress, check, stroller, check,” Quinn spoke dramatically as he bounced back and forth, trying to entertain Ellie for a few minutes while he waited for Y/N to finish getting ready. He leaned forward, pulled the stroller to give Ellie more of a sun visor.

Quinn adjusted the hat on his head as he turned his head to watch Y/N walk out of the bedroom, a t-shirt and shorts to her frame. “Let’s get this family run started, shall we?” Quinn said excitedly as he rested his hands on Y/N’s hips, guiding her backwards towards the stroller.

“Do we have to?” she groaned out as she rested her hands on the base of his neck.

“We used to go on runs every morning before you went to work, baby, I’m just bringing it back now that Ellie can join us,” he leaned towards her, kissing her lips briefly.

“Quinn, my love, that was over a year and a whole pregnancy ago,” she said as she played with the short ends of his hair. He did a big chop before pre-season started. “There is no way I can keep up with you,” she mumbled. He smiled softly.

“Which is why I’m pushing the stroller and we are going to go at your pace,” he explained as he tightened his grip around her waist. She pouted her lips as she tilted her head back. “Baby, you used to drag me out of bed to go on these runs.”

“I know but now I like the comfort of our bed, now that our beautiful baby girl sleeps through the night I want to spend time in that bed,” she pouted her lips as she scanned his features.

“Once you get out there, feel the fresh air, you’ll love it,” Quinn explained as he leaned towards her kissing her lips. She held his head in place as she returned the kiss slowly. He pulled away, pecking her lips a few times.

“You’re really convincing,” she mumbled against his lips.

“All I know is that you will be taking El on a run daily after today,” he muttered. She rolled her eyes as she walked toward their apartment door, pulling it open.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered as she motioned for him to get the stroller and start to push Ellie.

He paused at the door, leaning towards her pecking her lips, “I know,” he said as he stepped out of the apartment. She rolled her eyes as she followed after them.

Once they stepped foot outside, it was evident that Y/N was excited. The fresh air and the path that her and Quinn used to always go on directly in front of her. Quinn leaned in front of the stroller, smiling towards Ellie. She giggled as Quinn’s head popped in her view sideways.

“You’re going to look ridiculous pushing that,” Y/N pointed towards him and the stroller. He rolled his eyes as he gripped the handles tightly.

“Oh like this?” he let out as he began jogging, leaving Y/N stranded for only a moment. She chuckled as she jogged after him. She soon matched his pace, breathing heavily.

“Yep, ridiculous,” she teased as she met his gaze for only a second before she glanced into the stroller to see a smiling Ellie. “Our baby girl is loving it, so I can’t complain,” she let out through a huff of air.

“Want me to slow down?” he asked. She shook her head.

“It’s been a while since I felt like this,” she let out as she took a deep breath. Quinn met her gaze while raising his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah? I think I remember the last time you were breathing this heavy,” he smirked.

“Watch yourself, Quinny,” she said as smirked, taking in a deep breath.

“I think it was the night-” he began. She rolled her eyes as she quickened her pace to get past him. “Oh come on,” he let out while laughing.

“Try to keep up!” she hollered after him as she spun around, running backwards. Her gaze looked down towards Ellie. She was slowly drifting off to sleep.

302 notes · View notes

gojo-mochi · 1 year ago

Text

Content: Fem!Reader Virgin!Reader. Escort!Zoro. Blood Play, Biting (Lots of Biting), Zoro being cat-like, Virgin deflowering, Dacryphilia, P/V, Oral (Fem Receiving) ,Creampie, Bruising and Marking.

A/N: Cough,,,,, Anyway… Ahah First part of the event!! Woo!! *dodging Tomatoes* IM SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG. I PROMMY ILL TRY TO BE BETTER

Word Count:10k

"There's no off switch on a Tiger…"

You nervously paced around the room as you dialed the number on your phone. You just went with your gut instinct and chose the guy at the top of the list. It's not like you didn’t skim through the whole booklet; this ‘Zoro’ guy just looked the most appealing to you. The light green hair and the scowl etched on his handsome face were something that you couldn’t get out of your head. His description doesn’t seem that bad either… I mean, they did say that he has a “Soft heart on the inside,” so surely that means he’s not a bad guy, right?

You look at your phone and heave out a shaky sigh as you press the call button, holding it up to your ear as it rings.

Beeeeeep…

Beeeeeep..

…Click

“...Hello? What ya want?”

A tired and gruff-sounding voice spoke through the other line. He gave out a yawn when you paused in your reply with another; “Hello? You there?” Your face was already heating up from embarrassment, “Ye-yes, I’m here! Sorry, it seems like I woke you up…” You paced faster around the room, trying to calm down the shakiness in your voice. He lets out another yawn, grumbling out a “Tis fine… so what did ya want?”

You almost tripped on your feet as you trip over your words on the phone, “Well, I-uh-saw your ads in this booklet, Zoro, right? Anyway, I wanted to see if you were free tonight to….um..”

“To fuck you, yeah? That's the ad you saw, right?” He finished your sentence for you, with the sound of rustling in the background, indicating that he had gotten up from wherever he was sleeping. “Yeah, I’m free. Which hotel are you at? Oh, and give me the room number too.” Your heart was beating rapidly now, it was all happening so fast, the guy was just so casually saying yes to sleeping with you without any details.

“Wa-wait, I have something to say first-” You sucked in a breath, “I-I’m still a virgin so-it would be nice if you were gentle with me..?” You trail off at the end, unsure of what else to say or add, the voice on the other line went quiet for a bit, you thought that the call got disconnected and went to check when you heard a soft snort and a cough. Like the man was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing. You huff out in displeasure, “Sorry, sorry, tis just was you were really cute with the way you were asking me.”

You chewed on your bottom lips as your chest started to pound again, but this time for a different reason. The man sounded a lot nicer than before, with the sleepiness waving away from his voice. “I’m staying at the Thousand Sunny Hotel and room 257, also is there anything else I need to do to…prepare at all?” You heard a silent pause again with the same snort as before,but this time the man did not care to hide that he was outright chuckling at your question. “Wow… you really are a virgin, huh? Thought you were fooling me, to be honest.”

You gasped, shocked that he would think you were lying about this. “Don’t worry, girlie, I’ll take care of you.” You had no reply to that, not with the way your stomach was tying itself in knots as his voice seemed to go down an octave deeper and the nickname sent pangs of heat near your core as well. “I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. Be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?” You nod at his question before remembering that you’re on the phone and he can’t see you. “Yea-yeah! I’ll be good!” You cringe internally at how you replied so obediently back. He ends the call with another chuckle, softer this time, you flopped down on the bed. Staring at your phone screen, replaying what just happened in your head over and over again.

‘Holy shit, I’m actually doing this, I’m going to have sex with someone I don’t even know.” You were a mixture of nerves and excitement, rolling on the bed, giggling like a schoolgirl over how hot the guy sounded over the line. There was his picture on the booklet, but attaching it to his voice too? Oh, man, it just made him instantly ten times hotter in your mind. You look at the clock, ticking down the time until your escort comes. You were too excited to just lay in bed until he arrived. Though you did stop in your tracks when his voice rang in your head, “Be a good girl…”

You weren’t even sure what that meant… how do you be a ‘good girl’ for him? Stay and wait on the bed until he comes? Try to doll up somehow? Your mind starts to wander downward into more raunchy ideas. The idea of him walking in on you preparing yourself open with your fingers made your legs start to shake. You jumped back down on the bed and screamed into the pillow, emotions too high and foreign for you to fully express. You push your face into the pillow for a while, waiting for your racing heartbeat to fully calm down, only to shoot up again once you see that 15 minutes have passed on the clock sitting right on the nightstand.

Your breath hitches in your throat, you grabbed the pillow you were face planting in and clutched it close to your chest. Eagerly looking at the door with wide eyes, you squeezed the pillow to your thumping chest as you imagined the sound of a ticking clock in your head. Slowly counting down until your man comes knocking on your door. Time seems to crawl slowly toward you, moving at a snail’s pace.

Ok, you were too scared to look at the clock before, but you felt like a lot of time had passed and there was still no sign of Zoro. You finally decide to check your phone in case you somehow missed any notifications, you scroll through your messages only to find some messages from the friend that recommended this service.

Bestie: Heyyyyy, how's it going? You get dicked down yet? 👀

You: No, he told me he was coming over like 30 minutes ago I think…

Bestie: Oh? Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic or something.

You: I hope so…

You chewed on your bottom lips as you checked the time again, sighing out, you went to scroll on various apps, hoping to keep your mind occupied. You got lost in the void that is social media apps for quite a while, only barely snapping out of it once you scrolled past the 40th cat video on tiktok. You took another look at the time, now it has been close to an hour passing since your call with Zoro.

Hot tears began to drip down on your face from the embarrassment you started feeling. ‘He must think this is so funny…’ You even started to doubt if this whole escort service was even real in the first place, did your friend set you up? You wipe away your tears with a small sniffle, sensing anger slowly boiling up in the pits of your stomach, replacing the embarrassment and sadness. You dial the number once again to give Zoro a piece of your mind.

The dial tone only rings once before Zoro's gruff voice once again enters your ear. “Hey-” “What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into the phone, cutting him off before he could spew any bullshit excuse to you. You tried hard not to make your voice wobble, forcing it to be steady with all the tears still streaming down your face. “Oy-What’s the hell your problem, woman?” Zoro sounded annoyed, which made you even more angry. “What's your problem?! Did you think it was funny to do this kind of shit?” Your voice cracked at the end, you barely heard Zoro’s reply as you broke into sniffles and choked sobs. “Wh-what the hell are you on about?” He growled out, only to mutter a soft “Shit..” when you whimpered at the harsh tone.

“Listen, just tell me what’s wrong alright? I can’t help ya, if all you do is cry. Shit, I'd rather just have you yelling at me again.” His voice takes on a more soothing tone to try to calm you down. You hated how it was instantly working on you. You wipe away at the snot and tears on your face, wincing at the smeared makeup on your sleeves now. “Just drop the act already. It's been over an hour and you’re not coming, I know that-” “It's been over an hour?! Fuck, if they didn’t change the stupid street names, I would had been there by now.” Zoro grumbled some more obscenities into the phone as you heard his pace quicken.

The gears in your mind grinded to a halt for a moment, listening to Zoro curse out once more; “Damn it, how many streets are named after this Roger guy anyway?” He was still walking around on Gol D Roger’s Street? You stayed silent to listen some more and quickly gathered that this guy was really bad at directions, considering he somehow ended at the same street sign again for the fifth time. You giggled, causing Zoro’s attention to turn on you. “You’re laughing now? God, women are so weird sometimes... So, is everything ok now?”

You giggled some more and snorted at his last comment. “Yeah, I think I know what happened now, you’re lost aren’t you?” The pregnant pause on the other end was the only answer you needed to start laughing out right. “It's not my fault that the stupid construction workers keep changing where they post the damn street sign!” You heard the sound of a metal pang and another growl. Zoro was probably kicking the poor street sign. You stopped your laughing fit to help the poor street sign from getting even more abused.

“I thought you ghosted me or something to be honest…” You whispered, emotions still stirring inside your stomach. Your honesty stunlocked Zoro for a bit, you were on the verge of apologizing when his voice came out in a whisper too. “Don’t apologize, I should have called you and told you I was coming late, I can admit that was my fault at least.” “Why didn’t you?” You hugged your knees close to your chest, rocking on your heels as you strained to hear Zoro’s voice now that he was speaking quietly. “...I didn’t think of it until now, shit, listen I understand if you want to pick someone else now so-” “No!”

Your cheeks heated up at how fast you said that, clearing your throat you spoke again; “I-I mean, it would be a waste for both of us, since you've been walking around for an hour, I don’t mind still spending the night with you.” Now it was Zoro’s turn to chuckle; “Alright, since you want me that badly.” You almost regret sticking with him now, almost. “I just need to find out where the hotel is from here and I promise this time, I’ll be there soon, ok girlie?” You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he gave you.

“How about I try to lead you to the hotel, so you won’t get lost again?” You ignored his words stating that he wasn’t lost. “I know that Roger’s Street isn’t that far from the hotel, I think I know the way to get here from there.” Zoro lets out an affirmative grunt waiting for your directions. You spent the next 20 minutes trying to lead this dense meat head to the hotel. When you told him to take a right and he said that the right takes him to a wall, you argued that he took a left not a right like you said.

This happened for quite a while until he finally saw the bright neon Lion Head that the hotel had on top of its sign. You wanted to stay in the call to make extra sure that he wouldn’t get lost on the way up to your room to be honest but Zoro argued back that he was fine now. You weren’t quite sure you believed that after the ordeal you went through. The phone call ends and your phone screen fades to black, giving you the first look at yourself in a while.

Your makeup was smeared all over your face, lipstick half gone, mascara running black streaks down your face, not to mention your red nose and puffy eyes completing this whole messy look. You rolled off the bed cursing to yourself. Zoro was coming up to your room soon and you looked like a fucking wreck. You silently prayed that he would somehow get lost on his way up to your floor somehow as you entered the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and rubbing harshly at your skin.

You let out a squeaked and jumped when you heard banging at the door. ‘Maybe it's room service or the hotel staff…?’ You hoped it was, grabbing a towel and wiping away whatever makeup you can on it, the poor towel could only do so much though. You tentatively walked over to the door and looked through the peephole to find a burly green-haired man on the other side, his arms were crossed and you didn’t know if he was intentionally flexing or not because the veins in his forearms and biceps looked delicious.

You sucked in a nervous breath as you unlocked the door, opening it just a bit to peek at Zoro, saying a quiet “Hello…” you stepped back as he approached the doorway, hiding half of your face in the towel. Zoro was very tall and very very buff, only wearing a white tank top that was straining to keep his pecs covered and black joggers which you can faintly see his dick outline in. He fully stepped inside the room and the door behind him shut closed with a click. He locked the door himself, before turning away to stare down at you with a lopsided grin.

You bunch up the towel more, hiding your face in the fluffy stained cotton. Zoro took one step towards you, making you almost bump into his chest. “I come all this way and you won’t even show me your cute face, girlie? I feel wounded.” He emphasizes the last word by clutching a fist over his heart with a mocking hurt expression. The tips of your ears go red at his teasing, you try to push him away with a hand but he didn’t even budge when you tried a second push with all of strength.

Your hand pressed firmly on his left pec, you grunt seeing how he doesn’t even feel your weak attempt at shoving. You, however, felt a lot, hand squeezing lightly on Zoro’s pec, since he wasn’t actively flexing, it was not quite squishy but not firm either. You start to knead on it like a curious kitten for an unknown amount of time only broken out of your spell when Zoro grabbed both of your wrists. You didn’t even realize that your second hand also joined in the fun some time ago.

“Is this what you really gonna pay me for all night?” Zoro tilts his head at you with a bigger smirk plastered on his handsome face this time. You just now noticed that he really does have a scar going over his left eye. Zoro continues on as your voice is stuck in your throat. “Thought you were gonna have me take your virginity tonight, girlie? Hmm? Gonna let me be your first fuck and spread that cunt of yours with my cock right?” His crude words made you gape like a fish out of water.

He pulls your wrist up to his neckline. “Hold on to me, ok sweetheart?” Your mind was already melting from touching him and now he changed nicknames on you too. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck. “Good girl, good listener. I like that.” He purred leaning in near your ear as his arms hoisted up your legs, instantly wrapping around his waist on instinct. He goes to hold your ass with one hand, giving it a good slap making you squeak out his name, while his other arm holds your back.

He lifted you with such ease, swiftly carrying you to the edge of the bed where he gives your ass one last squeeze then gently sets you down. Your towel had fallen off when he picked you up so you tried to hide your face with your hands this time but Zoro was quick enough to react by pinning your wrists above your head. “Aht Aht, I want to see your pretty face, hide from me again and I’ll be forced to do something about it.” He lets go of your wrist to part your thighs apart, kneading at the plump skin the exact same way you were kneading on him earlier.

You were scared to ask what he meant by “Do something about it” but all thoughts went out the window when Zoro started to pull down your shorts, his fingers easily dipping into the waistband and sliding down your thigh all in one swoop. Your shorts were already gone past your knees by the time you realized what was happening. “Zo-zoro!” You squealed, hands clambering to stop him but it was too late. Your shorts were pulled off one leg with ease and then discarded behind Zoro as he got it off the other.

You didn’t know what kind of undies to wear to a night like this, deciding between lacey or a thong or something else for hours in the morning. In the end, you just went with plain white cotton panties, afraid of being mocked for wearing something frilly or too sexy. Despite Zoro only having one eye left, his intense stare sent chills down your spine. Eyeing up your panties like it was his prey, he was even licking his lips as well.

You whimpered, shrinking down on yourself as you tried to close your thighs and hide away from Zoro. Zoro’s clicked his teeth at you, making your cheeks heat up in further shame, he let you close your thighs but his rough and calloused hands went back to groping them, he rested his chin on the edge of your knees. Looking up at you with the same intense fire, you gulped nervously, wanting to just go and hide under the covers.

But you can’t run away now, not when you were this far and especially not when a handsome man is on his knees for you like this. The silence felt like forever between you two, Zoro was testing you, seeing if you break and give in all on your own, but you held firm, whether it was due to fear or your own stubbornness you don’t know. You jumped when his chuckle broke stillness in the room; “Stubborn girlie, huh? While I do like that, I can’t exactly continue my job here if you keep your legs closed forever.” He pats your thighs twice with a smirk.

Your struggle to come up with a retort of some kind but only another whimper left your lips as Zoro’s fingers digs a little deeper in your thigh as he hoists himself back up face you. One hand traveling up right after to gently lift your chin up, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “Just give me the word, girlie, and I’ll give you the world.” His words came out more gentle than you thought it would but with an underlying tone that he meant what he promised. Zoro looked like a tiger in waiting, calm and collected but ready to pounce at a moment’s notice on any innocent prey that fell into its path.

And you were that prey, trapped in his sights, caged in by one strong arm on your stomach, his other hand still on your chin, making sure you can’t look away. Though yes, you were trapped, Zoro did not make another move, the hand on your stomach lightly tracing small circles on your skin. He was still waiting for your answer, you knew that you could just stop now and he would let you leave without a fight but you wanted more, more of him, more of the man you barely know, an escort who’s job it was to fuck to you until you were satisfed.

So why were you still hesitating? You signed up for this, you made all the preparations beforehand and now here you are, right where you wanted to be. Zoro tilts his head to the side a bit just like a curious cat, his gold earrings dangle together as he does. You steel your resolve once more, ready to give your answer to Zoro, in the form of an action not words. You press your lips hungrily against Zoro’s, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip. Tasting mint on your tongue at the first swipe, you groan quietly, tugging onto Zoro’s tight tank top as a silent plea for more.

You felt Zoro lips quirk up into a smirk at your actions, making your cheeks burn a bit but all thoughts of quitting went out the window when his tongue invaded your mouth. The wet muscle took over your mouth quite easily, leaving you gasping in the small moment when he let you have air. Your body jolts and moans when Zoro’s bulky hand squeezes at your chest. Massaging the soft mounds gingerly, letting your body fall apart into his hands.

You were like putty being shaped and molded into whatever shape Zoro wanted you to be, so needy and pliant. He parts away from your lips for a few moments, causing you to let you a high pitch whine at the loss of contact. “Tch, already so needy, girlie? Bet your pussy already soaked down there, where did the cute and shy virgin act go, huh?” He squeezed at your chest a bit harder as he uttered those words.

You sucked in your bottom lip, feeling shame at his words, though your body betrayed you by pressing in closer to Zoro's body, hands clawing unabashedly at his chest. A low growl came from Zoro and then you were laying flat on your back with Zoro sucking harshly on your neck. You quickly grasped onto his shoulders to anchor yourself. “I knew you were secretly a slut, hahh, so fucking needy, looking at me with those eyes, can’t even keep your hands off of me can you?” He grunts out, licking a long strip down to your collarbone as you arch your back off the bed, accidentally grinding against Zoro’s bulge. He backs away just enough to get rid of his tank top, offering you a full view of his glistening abs.

“Fuck girlie, I bet you want me to stick my cock in you right now, huh? Breed you like the slut you are. Fuck that virgin cunt of yours until you’re begging me to stop. Mmm, maybe you won’t even ask me to stop and I’ll just have to fuck you all night and day.” He nibbled on your collarbone, leaving a path of purple splotches and bite marks, getting annoyed at how your shirt was stopping him from going further, letting out another louder growl. “Arms up.” He commanded, his own hand already pulling the hem of your shirt halfway up your stomach from impatience. You followed blindly, mind spinning from the harsh words he was spewing but you can’t say he was exactly wrong about it.

He took your shirt off in a frenzy, pulling the garment up and over your head arms and throwing it to the side. Hand palming at your sides, his lone eye staring down at you, lips parting to show off his fangs. “You've been keeping this all to yourself for this long?” Hands expertly unclasping your bra and feeling your bra from your skin, uselessly thrown to the side as well. He grasped on to your chest, the callous pads on this thumb coming to rub harshly on your nubs. He doesn’t leave time for you to answer this question, as he dips his head to latch on the other side.

The tongue that was just moments ago mapping out the inside of your mouth was now, flicking so deliciously on your nipple. Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself back to reality but Zoro’s seem keen on making you go dumb on his tongue already. His free hand was pinching and pulling on your other nipple, the quick pain switched with the white hot pleasure of his tongue and mouth slurping on you. His other hand was roaming on your skin, gripping on your waist with enough force to leave bruises in the morning.

“Nnagh-hahh-Zo-Zorooooo~!”

The amount of drool Zoro left on your chest was already seeping down your side and now to the bed. Not that the both of you cared about it. You took a small glance down and the image you saw almost made you cum. Zoro's eyes were closed shut, small beads of sweat on his forehead, making his mossy hair stick to his skin, he was intensely focused on working his tongue on you. It was a vulgar sight, watching his tongue flick in and out of his mouth in such quick successions. He must have felt you staring at him, because he opened his one eye and took one look at your face and smirked.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

You gulped down the spit that you didn't know was pooling in your mouth as you were watching him. Giving a shy nod in return, too afraid to use your voice. He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses down your stomach, hands giving you one last tight squeeze. You let out a small laugh, as you continued watching Zoro, he was giving small kisses and licks on your bare skin. He really was like a big tiger, the way his rough tongue felt on your skin. His eye flickered on you when you snorted at the image of Zoro with cat ears on, eyebrow raising up in question.

You smiled at him, finally feeling your anxiety and embarrassment wash away bit by bit. Feeling brave enough to run your hand through his hair, it was a bit coarse and sweaty but nicer than you imagined it to be. You swear you could feel and hear Zoro purring at your touch, a low rumble coming from the back of his throat as you gently tug on his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the sensation for a moment, nuzzling his face on your stomach causing you to giggle once again.

Zoro let out a content sigh on your skin, arms dragging down your side slowly, to dip his fingers in your panties. He nips at your skin to get your attention, “Yur’ ok with going further right?” his voice coming out a bit hoarse. You nod but Zoro shakes his head; “I need to hear your cute voice, girlie, tell me what you want me to do to you.” He nipped at you once again, making you whimper at the sharp pain from his fangs. “I want…” You own tongue felt heavy on your cheek as you tried to say what you truly wanted. “I want your cock in me, please Zoro, I need you in me so badly.”

Zoro growled heavily, “Fuck girlie… yur’ makin’ me lose my mind here.” He pulls down your panties, letting out a groan seeing a sting of your arousal being connected to the base of your panties. “I can’t just shove my cock in you just yet, even though yur’ already this wet, gotta prep you first.” He slaps your pussy, making you sit up straight with a yell. “Zoro!” Now he was snorting out a laugh, you close your thighs and scoot away from him but his grip on your thighs was tight. “Sorry, sorry..”

He didn't really sound apologetic but you decided you didn't care anymore once his rough tongue was on your pussy. He was also a messy eater on your pussy as well, spitting on it and watching his spit mix in with your juices before diving right back in. One hand secretly going down to pull down his gym shorts and boxer. Kicking it off of him with a lack of grace. More focus on having his tongue gulping down your juices.

The slurping noises that echoed in the hotel room made your head spin wildly. Zoro’s nose bumping into your clit, as his tongue works its way between your folds and inside your hole. He never stayed in one spot for too long, always moving his head up and down or side to side. The juices cover the entire half of his face as he does so. Your thighs were shaking so much in his tight grip as you never felt this kind of pleasure before. “Nnaghh, fu-fuck me-I-Zorooooo-Mmmahhh!” You just kept on babbling, hands white knuckled on the hotel sheets, back arching everytime Zoro gave your throbbing clit some attention. It wasn't enough though, the small amount of attention from his nose or swipes from his tongue wasn't enough to push you over the edge.

You were going delirious at this point and Zoro wasn’t even trying to tease you. He was just simply lost in your arousal, enjoying himself too much. You knew this by the way he was rutting himself on the bed, making the frame shake slightly with each thrust. You weakly yank at his hair, whimpering out a small “Zoroooo…” in hopes that he would get your desperation. It took a couple of tries until he understood what you wanted, letting go of your thigh, with one hand coming under his chin to slip a finger in.

He groaned seeing how easily his finger slides in your sloppy cunt, adding in a second just as easily. The stretch of his fingers still burned a bit at first but once Zoro’s lips found your clit again, you found yourself arching off the bed with Zoro’s free hand pushing on your stomach to hold you down. You gush all over Zoro’s face and chin which ended up in him making more obscene noises as he slurps up every drop he could. Fingers still scissoring themselves inside of your walls, adding a third finger once you calmed down from your orgasm.

“Still here with me, girlie?” Zoro’s voice rasped out, looking up at you from between your thighs, face slick and shiny.

You could swear that his pupils turned into cat-like slits for a second there. You swallow some dry spit down to speak, knowing that Zoro wanted another vocal answer from you. “M’ goo-good. Do-don’t stop.” He growled at you; “Never said I was gonna stop, girlie. Not after seeing how much this slutty cunt is taking in my fingers so well. You think you were going to leave without my cock stuffed in her first?” You whimpered out when he started biting down on your hips and inner thighs. Marking his place on your skin with vigor, speeding up his fingers, angling his wrist just right so he could hit you in the sweet spot.

He knew you were close again when your eyes began fluttering close and that cute little mouth of yours turned into a ‘o’. If this wasn’t a job, he would have stopped his fingers as soon as you were close enough, and made you beg him to make you cum. But he prided himself on being a good escort, at least enough to compete with a curly blonde, so instead he planned to make you cum as much as possible tonight. His tongue slipped its way in your sloppy hole as well, slurping up all the cream that was still pouring out.

He was fighting really hard not to get drunk off of your pussy and focus on your pleasure right now, but with your moans and whimpers and the way your body kept cutely twitching off the bed, he might break soon. This time his free arm was well prepared to soothe you as you reached your second orgasm of the night, bucking your hips into Zoro’s awaiting mouth, as his fingers slipped out to rub at your throbbing clit.

“Mmahh! Zo-fuuuuuck-Zoro!”

“Let it all go, girlie, hahhh, doin’ so good, like the cute slut you are.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, chest heaving heavily, your mind buzzed so loudly in rhythm with your racing heartbeat. You scarcely register your ankles being hoisted up over Zoro’s shoulder and the weight of his fat cock slapping against your cunt. His hand goes to tightly grip around your neck, leaving you gasping for air. “Look at me, can’t be fucked that dumb yet, your pussy still crying out for me. Can’t you hear her?” He emphasizes this by shoving his fingers back in, making your cunt squelch lewdly with each thrust.

Sqelch “Ngghhh” Shlick Shlick “Fw-ahhh!”

“Zo-Zoroooo.” You pathetically whine out, your hands pushing at his bicep to get away from your sensitive core. He lets you push him away, slipping his fingers out easily to only then shove them at your lips, growling out the command “Open.” You eagerly obeyed, parting your lips and licking at his digits with vigor you didn't know you had. Tasting your own slick on his fingers, eyes fluttering close as you automatically sucked his fingers clean of yourself. “So good f’r me aren’t cha?” His low timber voice purrs out.

“So obedient, girlie, hmm? You like being told what to do?”

You turn your face away, trying to hide it away from his staring and teasing words. Zoro was having none of that though, wrenching your face back to meet with his by seizing hold of your chin and forcing you to turn back. “I want you to either look at me or look at when my cock finally sinks in you, understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer from you, forcing your head up and down into a nod with his own hand. “Good girl~” His tone verges between mocking and praiseful.

Ending his praise with another deep kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you mewl out in slight pain, parting your lips enough for his tongue to slip in. His hand slips up to tug at your hair, as he utterly devours your lips and mouth. Leaving you no room or control to do as you please, your body surrendering itself to his whims. He leans back to observe your reaction, licking his lips at the sight with another strange growl emitting from his throat.

Your face flushed, eyes glossed over with desire, and lips still parted to let out small puffs of breaths. His grip still on the back of your head, stopped you from cowering away from his gaze, the feeling of a carnal desire coming off from Zoro. He presses his mouth to your neck hard, biting his canines in enough to the point of pain, soothing it with hot kisses afterwards. Gently petting your hair as you cried out and squirmed underneath him. “Hahhh.. fuck…I forgot the damn condom.”

He gets off of you and looks around for his discarded shorts and rummage around the pockets to find a roll of condoms. Tearing one off and opening with his mouth, pulling out the rubber and aligning himself between your thighs once again, rolling the condom on his cock, hissing softly as it covers his sensitive tip. At this point, you caught your breath again, looking up at Zoro, hand motioning him to come closer. “Tch, so needy.” He rolled his eyes but his tone and demeanor was sort of gentle as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. Hovering his body right over yours, finally prepared, interlacing your fingers together as he goes to kiss your hand again.

“Ready?”

You look into his eye, in the man that you chose to take your virginity tonight. Tracing the outline of his pecs with your other hands as you squeezed the one that was interlaced with him. “I’m ready.” Your voice was wavering a little but maintained eye contact with Zoro all the way. He gives you what seems to be a genuine smile in return, kissing your hand one last time and bending down to engulf your lips in a passionate kiss.

Pushing his hips forward as his thick cock tries to push itself past your folds. The tip barely made it inside, already making you gasp out and dig your nails in his shoulder and squeezed his hand holding yours tightly. “Shh, Shh, you��re doing so good… relax..” Zoro’s voice rasps out, sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to control himself from slamming all the way into you. Waiting for you to give a signal to go again, his lone eye watching every single movement from you. Looking for any sign of pain or discomfort.

You continue to squeeze his hand tightly, blinking away some tears as you steady yourself, feeling ready for more, you murmured a soft “Deeper, please…” Zoro groans out this time, his heart beating faster at how cute and needy you sounded, his cock twitching to go all the way in but he was a good escort. Taking his sweet time to make sure you were all stretched out and snug on his cock before he could ruin you.

Inching deeper in your tight pussy bit by bit until he bottomed out. You felt like it reached all the way to your throat with all long and thick it was, catching your breath as you breathed out a shaky sigh. Grasping tightly to Zoro’s hand; “Deep breaths girlie, thats it, you’re doing so good, haaaah, fuck you’re so tight, clenching on me so hard already.” He uses his free hand to caress your cheek gently as lewd praises spill out from his lips. “Was your pussy always this slutty? Hmm, or do you like my cock that much? Heh, It’s going to be hard to fuck other guys when you can only think of me huh?”

“Just sh-shut up and fuck me already.” You faintly hiss out, getting a bit annoyed. “You talk too much, I paid you to use that mouth for something other than just talking, you know.” Zoro lets out a hearty laugh at that, showing off all his teeth once again, a dark gleam in his eye. His hand goes down to squeeze harshly at your chest then down further to press on below your navel right above where his cock was buried. Slowly pulling his cock out till only the tip was still inside; “Sorry could you repeat that? Didn’t quite hear you?”

“Zoro-aa-hah-AH!” You eyes flew wide open, arching your back off the bed as Zoro slams his whole length into you once more. Keeping the rhythm going, plunging in and out at a painfully slow pace, but it was enough to make you roll your eyes. Your hand lost its strength and was gradually slipping from Zoro’s but he grabbed you by the wrist and plop one of your fingers in his mouth, sensually rolling his tongue around the digit making you lose more sense until he abruptly bit down on it.

Enough to draw blood and make your whole body jolt from the pain only to be hit with a wave of pleasure as his cock found its way to your sweet spot. Zoro sucking on your wounded finger, tongue roughly licking at the bite mark, lapping at the blood and indents. It felt weird, a painful kind of sting with each lap of his tongue that made you crave for more each time it was gone. Or maybe you were losing your mind with how his cock was still ramming it way into your cervix.

“Ngaah-Hahh-Zorooo-fuck!” Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as your body surrenders itself to Zoro fully, his fangs making various bite marks on your arm now, his cock stretching you out fully, his hand pressing down on your stomach each time his cock reaches that area. You wanted so desperately to say that you wanted Zoro to go faster, however only drool and nonsensical babble came out of your mouth. Your babbles mixed in with the sounds of Zoro’s grunts and growls as he started licking away at all the bloodied bite marks he made on your arm.

His cat-like tongue sweeping and swirling on the bruises, small beads of blood dripping out of the wound quickly whisked away by the wet muscle. The corners of his lips and teeth were now stained red, not that Zoro cared heck he might have even loved the fact that he looked like a carnivore right now. Eating away at his prey bit by bit, devouring every aspect of your body, every whimper or moan from your lips, every twitch and shiver of your body, all caused by him.

When Zoro gets down to your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side to meet his gaze. Pleading with your teary eyes for him to go harder, faster, anything from the agonizing sluggish pace he kept at currently. Zoro growls softly at your weeping face, wiping away your tears with his fingers, smudging some blood on your cheek in the process. “What's wrong, girlie?” he sounded genuine but with the way his lips were quirked up in a smirk he probably wasn't all that sincere. Especially how his hips suddenly sputter to a complete stop halfway in. His cock twitching slightly inside of you, as you cried out some more tears.

Clawing your nails into his biceps, lips out in a full pout as you barely manage blubber out some words; “Mo-more” “Zorooo” and “Please”. Your pitiful attempts at pleading were enough to make Zoro waver a little, actually being genuine this time when he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You taste the copper tang from your own blood on your tongue as Zoro tilts your chin up to gain more access to your mouth. His other hand roaming to give some attention to your throbbing clit some much needed attention.

You attempt to buck your hips up but with Zoro’s weight still pressing down on you it is a near impossible task. You only managed to make yourself seem more pitiful, as pitiful whines bubbled up from your throat, your thighs shaking and tensing around Zoro’s waist. “Seems like I got carried about with the biting again…” He murmured out quietly, after parting from your lips. You sent him a weak glare, slapping his bicep making him chuckle out in return. You slap him again. He returns the slap by giving you one on your clit.

Pressing his tongue inside your mouth when you yelp at the sting of it, taking this moment to push his cock all the way in again. His thumb rubbing at your clit in small circles as Zoro starts to increase his pace. Along with increasing the force of his thrust, the slapping sound when your skin colliding with each other echoed so loudly in the hotel room, making your ear burn with embarrassment. Your cries and pleads were back to being swallowed up by Zoro’s tongue. He would let out occasional growls or heavy pants in between the small instances when he allowed you to breathe in air again. You felt your core tightening with white-hot pleasure, black spots appearing in your vision as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Legs trembling and your pussy clenching down on Zoro’s length, making him increase his pace on both his thrusts and his thumb ministrations. “C’mon cum for me girlie, mmmf-fuck, cum for me.” he grunted out, slamming his hip in a particularly mean thrust. That combined with his thick-voiced command was the final straw that pushed you over. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as your body spasms and thrash around the searing and burning amount of pleasure that you never felt before was almost too much for you to handle.

Luckily Zoro wasn’t that mean, combing his hair through your hair as he ease you into it, softly speaking praises into the shell of your ear as his other arm placed itself on your back. Pushing you forward into a half bear hug, your body colliding with Zoro’s tightly, his arm pressing your chest against his, mixing your heart beats together. When your breathing lowers down to low pants and your body settles to small twitches here and there, only then does Zoro bring his arm back and slowly pull out.

His own breathing low and heavy, his chest slowly rising and falling with each parted sigh. Sweat dripped from his forehead and glistened on his chest. He removes the condom with a groan, wrapping his hand around the base, looking down at you with a cloudy gaze. You wearily blink your eyes back open to ogle at the sight before his voice rings out to you. You strained your ears to listen to his request. “--you don’t mind if I cum on you right?” he was already stroking his cock as he was asking you for permission. Who were you to say no to this hunking beast of a man?

Still catching your breath, you nod at him, parting your legs out more and leaning your head back to watch Zoro jerk himself off right above you. The thick veins on his hand almost matched the ones on his pulsing cock. Your hole was clenching around nothing as you kept on leering at this sight, the smell of sweat and sin in the air, Zoro’s eye half-lidded staring down at you, his lips wet and smeared with your blood still. Low and rugged pants coming up from his throat as he squeezed your chest with his other hand, increasing the pressure on both hands as he soon reached his own climax. Spattering his cum across your chest in short spurts, a loud mix of a growl and a grunt escaped his lips as well.

After a short pause, he wipes off some sweat from his face, a wide smirk plastered on his face. “Well? How was that for your first time, eh girlie? I think I deserve a 5-star rating.” He moved around until he was sitting by your side now, gently caressing your face with the hand he used to just jerk off with. You felt the sticky residue he was leaving your cheek. “Ugh! Zoro, don't use that hand to touch my face right now!” You smack his hand away with a grimace, propping yourself on your elbows. Hissing out in pain when the bite that Zoro left on there starts to bleed out a bit again. You send a glare Zoro’s way, he rubs the back of neck as he looks away from your glare, muttering out a “Whoops..” You smack him on the arm again; “I think you deserve a 1-star rating instead.” Zoro flinched at the smack but you knew that was mostly because of your words and not because your attack did any damage to him. You ran your fingers over the indentations of Zoro’s fangs in your skin, the small sting that came with each run thru sent shivers down your spine. You then hear and feel the bed creaking from beside you as Zoro sags his head down on your shoulder.

His arm loosely wrapping around your waist, his cheek nuzzling delicately against yours. This must be Zoro’s way of apologizing you thought silently, holding back a grin. You took some pity on the man and patted his head a bit just like a cat. He makes a small noise, akin to a real purr, your mind must be playing tricks on you or something. He plants mushy kisses on your cheek, descending down to your shoulder. Licking at any bruises or marks he left there as well, then going even further down to your arm. Stopping at every wound and kissing and licking at it.

Running his bristly tongue over the indents, it wasn’t soothing as you thought it would be, the prickle of pain with each lap of his tongue followed by a gentle kiss made your mind roll though. Maybe you liked feeling a bit of pain with pleasure? This was something new to you, as Zoro continues his apology, already halfway down your arm which was now covered in spit along with the bite marks and blood spots. Another shiver went down your spine as Zoro’s tongue pressed deeply into a particularly deep wound. The jolt of pain that came from it made you moan out a bit.

Causing Zoro to stop mid-lick and look up at you with a curious glint in his eye. His lips curled up at the side; “Oh? What was that a moan, hmm, sweetheart?” “N-no…” You looked away from him, about to tug your arm away when his tongue came out again on the same spot. Pressing much harsher this time on the bite mark. You couldn’t hold back the throaty moan, closing your eyes instead and feeling the heat of shame light up your cheeks and ears. Zoro chuckles; “You should have told me that you liked this sort of thing, I would have marked you up much more.” Your cheeks burn a bit more at the comment, desire stirring up once again in your chest.

“I didn’t really know I was into this sort of thing, alright? It’s all new to me… Anyway, are-are you going to leave now that we’re done?” Your voice cracked a bit at the end, as your mood instantly dampened the thought of Zoro leaving you. He raised up an eyebrow at you; “Leaving? You want to kick me out that badly?” His tone is light as he flicks your forehead with a finger. Kissing it right after to ease the small sting of pain. “And we’re not done yet. It seems like you want more, don’t cha?” He hums out, kissing the shell of your ear, his hand meeting in the middle of your thighs.

Your body parting them open easily so his finger could slip in your pussy, plunging in out with the slick and wetness making lewd noises come out. You just started to grind your hips up when Zoro pulled his finger out and licked away the slick. Moving to the edge of the bed and beckoning you forward, patting his thigh with both hands. “Cm’ere.’ His cock was sitting up prettily between his muscular thighs, your heartbeat felt like it was skyrocketing as you slowly made your way over to him. His hands came to grab onto your waist as you threw your legs over the side of his thighs.

His fingers digging in your soft flesh when he realizes something. “Shit…forget about the condoms again. Hold-” “Ah! Zoro, wait-” Your bend forward, throwing your arms around his neck, stopping him from getting up. “Can we skip the condom this time.. Please?” Your heart was pounding at this request but you really wanted to feel Zoro fully this time. “Shit, girlie. I’m not opposed to fucking raw but are you really sure about this?” He looks at you with his steel eye searching for any sign that you weren’t 100% sure about it, making you gulp nervously at the intensity of it. But you didn’t back down; not shying away from his gaze you answered back. “I am sure, I…I want to feel everything this time. I can handle it.”

He stares at you for a couple more moments, a wide toothy smile taking over his face. His fangs seem sharper now for some reason as well. “Already getting addicted to my cock huh? I knew that you wouldn’t just be satisfied after one round. Mmm..you better be prepared, cause I’m not holding back this time..” He ends his statement by immediately biting down hard on your shoulder, puncturing his fangs in and drawing blood. His hands anchored itself on your waist, making sure you can’t squirm away. A choked whine leaves your lips, the searing pain of the bite makes your pussy quiver with need.

Zoro releases his fang from your shoulder, switching to sucking and lapping up the blood spilling out, his hands loosening its hold on you to swipe at you needy cunt. His fingers quickly drenched in your arousal, plunging in and scissoring his fingers. The feeling was nice but it wasn't enough for you. Tugging at Zoro’s hair with a whimper, blinking down at him thru your teary lashes. The sight made his cock jump up even more. He gulped down some of your blood and held it in his mouth so when he went in for the kiss, you could have a taste also.

Now, regardless if you actually wanted to drink down some of your blood was irrelevant as Zoro also took this time to spear you with his length. Bullying it up all the up to your cervix, done easily as your slick was still plentiful, nasty ‘plaps’ echoed loudly each time your hips slapped against each other. The unexpected thrusting made you moan, opening your mouth to let in the metallic liquid and Zoro’s saccharine tongue to wash over your taste buds. Almost choking on your own blood from how rough Zoro was bouncing you on his lap.

‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’ “Zo-Zoro-Slow-Mmhh! Nggh!!” ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’

Your pleads were taken away when Zoro bit down on your bottom lips cruelly. Drawing more blood out and licking and sucking at it sweetly the next moment. His muscular thighs spread apart as he kept on bouncing you up and down on his cock. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh of your ass, sometimes gripping so hard that his handprints were about to be imprinted on the skin. A quick slap on your ass, made you cry out, tilting your head back as tears fell down your cheek beautifully.

A pitiful sniffle and whimper is all you could muster when Zoro grabs you by the chin to pull you back in. His fingers pressing on your tear-ridden cheeks to open your mouth for his greedy tongue. “Tongue out.” He growls, giving you another smack on the ass. You loll out your tongue quite obscenely, eyes half-lid and wet with tears. Zoro rewards your quick obedience by sucking on your tongue, his hand withdrawing from both sets of cheeks, going to wrap around your waist and under you. Planting his feet firmly on the ground so he could stand up with you still on his cock with ease.

His muscle only twitches slightly as he picks you up, his mouth never once leaving yours. Your tongue being abused by his lips and teeth, going as far as to bite down on it. His own rough tongue coming to trail over the wound, going deeper in your throat later on as his cock was also still buried deep in your core. The bounce with each step he took, jostled his cock even more inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep steady, even with his iron grip on your skin you were scared of slipping off. Not that Zoro would ever let you fall off, moving forward with you until your back reached the wall.

Right where he wanted you, trapped between the hotel wall and a muscular wall of abs. With one last flick of his tongue on yours, he parts from your mouth, a nasty strand of salvia connected you two for a small moment. You suck in much needed air into your lungs, your chest heaving up and down and your thighs clenching together the moment Zoro bucks his hips up into you. A loud moan ripped itself from your throat. “Zorooooooo!” You whined out, more moans coming out from you. Your back hitting the wall with each thrust upwards of his hips, the pictures on the wall bouncing along with you. Almost falling off with how hard Zoro was fucking you.

“O-Oh-hnggg-Zoro! Fu-Fuck!”

“You better quiet down or do you want the room next door to hear how much of a slut you are right now?”

Zoro’s tutted at you but with the smirk on his face and how he kept thrusting into you without a care. The thumping on the wall grows louder in tandem with your moans and pants. A photo frame came crashing down on the ground but neither of you noticed it. Zoro grunts out near your ear, his tan skin flushed a delicious pink, he leans his head down a bit to bite down on your neck. Your nails stab into his shoulders, knuckles whites, your eyes and stomach squeezing as hot pleasure washes over you. Zoro gives you more bites, on your neck, collarbone, and shoulder. Never once losing the harsh pace he was giving you.

‘Plaps’ ‘Thrust’ ‘Thrust’ “Hahhhhhh” ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’

“Fuck….. I think I'm the one getting addicted to this pussy of yours, girlie.” Zoro sighs out, the flush on his face getting pinker. His mind was getting hazy as his cock drags itself along your walls, without the condom you both felt everything so much more. His thick throbbing veins rubbing against your walls with each push and pull, his fat tip hitting your spot so sweetly. The way you were clenching down on him, your juices spilling out so much, almost making his cock slip out if he wasn’t careful. “Ha-ahhhhhh, sweetheart… fu-fuck.” His hands press in a bit on your hips, pressing his forehead against your. “L-let me cum in you? Nghhhh.. Please let me mark you on the inside as well.”

You didn't expect Zoro to plead for it, his eye glazed over with lust, licking his teeth clean of your blood while staring at you. His hot breath coming out in short and husky pants, you turn this man into a mess and you loved it. “I-I’m close too.. Let’s cum together.. Please.” You press your legs closer around his back, pulling him closer to you as you clenched down on his cock. Zoro pushes you against the wall even more, one arm grabbing the back of your head as he crashes his lips into yours. A growl emitting from his throat as his abs starts to tense up from the build up of his own release.

HIs hips going at a extra hard pace now, you could swear that the entire hotel room was shaking from how hard he was fucking you. “C’mon sweetheart, Ha-ahh, give it to me..” Another growl came out of Zoro as he nipped at your bloodied and swollen lips. His hand tugging at your locks, hot puffs of air coming out from both of you. Your body shakes and clenches down even harder than your last orgasm. Grinding your whole body against Zoro’s as your back arch off the wall and collide with his chest. Zoro releasing his own thick rope of cum into you soon after, the sensation of his cream spilling itself hotly inside you, mixing in with your own juices, made you see stars in your vision.

Zoro begins backing away from the wall, arms still wrapped around you as your body twitches as you calm down from your orgasm. Your head flopping down on Zoro's shoulder, your breath stuttering out, your body completely spent and tired. With no energy to even continue wrapping your legs around his waist, your legs dangle on the side now, but Zoro held you tight. Pacing his way over to the bed, you heard some shuffling and felt your body being moved about all over the place but soon you succumbed to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed as the last thing you see and hear is Zoro above you, murmuring out. “Sleep well, girlie…”

------

The morning lights filter through the curtains, landing directly on your face. You groan out, shifting your body the other way to get away from the light. The sound of quiet grunting can be heard once you settle back in again. You laid there for a short while, straining your ears to try to figure out what the noises could be and where it was coming from. Eventually your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sit up fully and blink open your eyes to look around. Rubbing sleep from them with a yawn as your vision clears.

What you found was Zoro on the ground doing one-handed push ups. Only wearing a pair of boxers as sweat trickles down his broad back. He soon stops as he notices you staring at him, giving him what you think was a wink as he stands up and stretches his arms backwards. “Mornin’ sweetheart. Took you long enough to wake up.” He steps over to the edge of the bed, looming over you. A hand coming down to pat you on the head twice, fluffing up your bed-head even more. “I still expect to get that 5-stars review, you know?” He chuckles out, seeing you try to pat down some hair that was sticking up.

You only noticed now when Zoro went to the bathroom, that you got clothes on, the simple t-shirt and shorts that you packed before you came here. Zoro must have put them on you while you passed out after last night’s… activities. Speaking of that... You start to flush a rosy pink, as the memories of last night came flooding back. The bite marks on your skin pulsing with a mild ache, your thighs move with a new kind of soreness you never felt before. You flop back on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to your chest with a grumble.

Zoro walked out of the bathroom back in his normal clothes, snorting softly at the sight before him. Bending down to your level and giving you a quick peck on the forehead as he brushes your hair back. “Don’t be mad at me alright? You asked for it last night, heh, practically begged for it.” He teases out, making you grumble and pout cutely, still leaning into the warmth of his hand. His hand goes down to cup your cheek, giving you a sweeter kiss on your lips that lasts for a while. But when he parts away from you, it felt like it wasn’t enough, making your heart ache a bit.

“It’s a bit past noon.” He sighs out, his tone low. “I have places to be.” You swallowed back a lump in your throat. You knew that this was only a one night thing, he was an escort after all not your lover or anything like that. Still you couldn’t shake the feeling of sorrow in your heart watching Zoro get up to leave. Only giving him a small nod as you bury yourself back into the bed, clutching the pillow even tighter to your chest to try dull the ache there. You heard another sigh from Zoro and some rustling of paper. You peek over to find Zoro scribbling something down on the hotel notepad. Ripping the page off and giving it to you. “This is my personal phone number, since I know no other guy will be able to satisfy you like I did. Call me whenever you need me again or whatever.” He mumbled out the last part almost shyly. His head turned away from you but you can see the tips of his ears were pink.

You take the paper, your heart leaping up to your throat in joy. Zoro doesn’t turn back to you as he walks away, too embarrassed to show you his blushing face so he just waves a goodbye and gives you a small; “Later, Y/N”. The door shuts behind him and now you’re left alone in the room once more. Your first thought was, ‘I wonder if Zoro is gonna get lost on his way to his next appointment again.’ and your second was, ‘Is it too soon if I call him again tomorrow…?’

Taglist: @baka-tsuki @malxoxo @saenora

#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy spice #one piece smut #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro smut #one piece x reader

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yelena-bellova · 2 years ago

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+

A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙

As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘

—————

December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.

Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.

Time healed nothing.

If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.

Time healed absolutely nothing.

Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.

“Who the hell are you?”

Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.

Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.

“And the gun.”

The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.

“And you?”

Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.

Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”

She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.

“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”

Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.

“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”

Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”

Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”

Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.

“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.

“A bit.”

Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.

“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.

Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.

Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.

“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.

“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”

Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.

Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.

“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”

“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.

Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”

“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.

“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”

Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”

“Nope,” Marlon answered.

“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.

Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”

“There are firefly people?”

Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”

Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.

“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.

“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.

Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”

They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.

Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.

“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”

Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“

Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.

Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”

“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.

Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”

Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”

“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”

“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“

That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.

“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”

Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.

Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.

“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”

Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.

“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”

She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.

The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…

Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.

The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.

In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.

Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.

In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.

—————————

In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.

Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.

Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.

Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.

“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”

“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.

“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.

Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”

Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”

“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.

“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”

For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.

And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.

“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”

Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.

“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”

“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.

“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”

The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.

“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”

Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?

Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…

Her dreams were dead.

“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”

Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.

Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”

Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”

“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”

Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.

“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.

Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”

“Tried what?” Y/n asked.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”

Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.

Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.

Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”

Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.

“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”

Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.

Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.

Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.

“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.

“What about him?” Joel asked.

“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”

Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”

Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”

Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.

“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.

Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.

But how long could he keep her like that?

—————————

Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.

A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.

The gun was gone.

This was it. His grand failure.

He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”

“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”

“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”

Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”

All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.

Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.

“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”

Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.

Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.

—————————

Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.

Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”

Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.

“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”

Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.

“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”

Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.

Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”

“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”

Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.

“Dam,” Ellie punned.

“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”

He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.

“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”

The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.

“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”

Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”

The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.

“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.

“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.

A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.

“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.

At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie’s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.

“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.

Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.

“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”

“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.

“How about you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”

Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.

“You been near any Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.

“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.

The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?

“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”

But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.

Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…

Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-

Ellie giggled.

Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.

The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”

“Ho!”

The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”

“Joel,” he answered.

“Y/n.”

The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.

Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.

The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.

Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.

“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.

Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.

“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.

They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.

It was a town. A proper fucking town.

Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.

Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.

Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.

“Tommy,” he shouted.

Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.

Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.

Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.

Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.

Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.

Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.

As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.

“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.

Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.

“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”

Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.

If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.

Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.

Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.

“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”

The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.

Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.

Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.

Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…

Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”

Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.

“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.

“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.

“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”

Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”

“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.

“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.

“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.

The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.

Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”

Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.

“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”

“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”

It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.

It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.

“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.

They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.

“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.

“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”

“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.

“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”

“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.

If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.

Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.

“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

”So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”

Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.

“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.

Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.

Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.

“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”

“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”

Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.

Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.

Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.

The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”

Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.

“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”

“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”

Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.

“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.

Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.

“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”

The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”

“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.

All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-

Her heart stopped.

Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.

Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.

Sarah’s name decided her fate.

And she crumbled.

—————————

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.

“Joel, you l-“

“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.

“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”

Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.

“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.

Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…

—————————

September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

Cordyceps.

It was the only word people were capable of saying.

Cordyceps.

One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.

Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.

Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.

Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.

She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.

Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.

“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”

Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.

“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”

Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.

And Joel was slipping away by the second.

“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.

Nothing.

“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”

Joel stared forward, motionless.

Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.

“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“

“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”

Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.

Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.

“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“

Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”

Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.

As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”

If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.

He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”

Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”

“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.

“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.

“NO!”

Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.

“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”

Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”

Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.

“You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”

“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.

Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.

Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?

Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.

“I’m done.”

Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”

Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”

The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.

“Joel-“

“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“

Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“

“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”

Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“

Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”

“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”

Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.

Nearly.

Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”

If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.

Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.

The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.

Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.

“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”

“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.

“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”

Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.

“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“

“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.

Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.

“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.

Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.

“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.

Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.

Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”

Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.

Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.

“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”

Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.

Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”

Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.

He pressed down on the gas pedal.

“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.

“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”

The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.

Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.

She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”

Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.

That was when she fell apart.

She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.

Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.

“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.

Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.

There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.

Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”

Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”

A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.

—————————

“I’m gonna be a father.”

Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”

Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.

—————————

“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”

Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.

“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.

Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.

Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…

—————————

Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…

Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…

And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.

He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…

It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.

Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.

He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-

A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.

Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.

It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.

—————————

Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.

Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”

“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.

She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”

Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”

Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.

“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.

Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.

Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”

“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”

Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.

“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”

“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”

Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.

Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.

“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.

“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.

“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.

Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”

It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.

“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.

In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.

“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”

“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”

Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”

Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”

“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.

The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.

“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”

Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.

“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”

“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”

Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.

“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”

Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”

“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“

“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.

“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”

Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.

“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.

“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”

Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”

Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.

“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.

——————

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