#I’m so sorry they’re just stuck in my brain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euphoriaslux · 7 days

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two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

#challengers #challengers fanfic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x patrick zweig #art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader #mike faist #josh o’connor #mike faist x reader #josh o’connor x reader #mike faist fanfic #josh o’connor fanfic

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moonstruckme · 1 month

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hiiii sorry I feel like I request so much I just love your stories!!!! could you do an EMT poly!marauders where the reader is coming home from an injury or surgery or something and they’re just being all sweet and overprotective of her

Don't be sorry sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! <3

cw: mentions of hospital, surgery (no details), nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

“Careful of the step,” Remus warns as he unlocks the front door.

James makes a disgruntled little sound as he passes over it with you in his arms, angling you sideways to get you both through the front door.

“I know where the step is,” he says. “I’ve lived here exactly as long as you.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” Remus heads straight for the bathroom. “Do you want to have some more ibuprofen, dove? It’s been long enough now.”

“Yes, please,” you call after him. James sets you down on the couch, a divot forming between his brows at the thick quality to your voice.

“Siri has your bag,” he reminds you. “You want it, just to be safe?”

You nod, swallowing.

Sirius hustles over, crouching in front of you and holding the plastic bag under your mouth. “Oh, baby,” he coos, setting a hand on the back of your neck while you shudder and cough unproductively over the bag. “I know, I’m sorry. Better make it aspirin, Rem,” he calls down the hall. “She’s still got a fever.”

“How bad?”

“I’ll check in a bit.” He presses his lips to your hairline, murmuring softly. “She’s under duress at the moment, aren’t you, poor girl?”

You want to cry for the sweetness in his tone, not one ounce of teasing. It can be hard to tell with Sirius, sometimes, but when you’re not feeling well he goes gooey-soft and saccharine as honey, all pet names and gentle touches. His thumb strokes the baby hairs at your nape.

Remus sighs as he comes back. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked her out.”

“I didn’t want to stay there,” you say into the bag, and James splays a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles.

“We know, sweetheart.” He gives his fretful boyfriend a reassuring smile. Remus returns it wearily. “We can take care of you just fine from here, don’t worry.”

Within an hour of waking up from your surgery feeling nauseous and pathetic, you’d been begging anyone who would listen to let you go home. The hospital had wanted to monitor you for a couple more hours, but after that your boyfriends had been able to exercise some sort of paramedic privilege and take you home early despite the normal two-to-three-day inpatient protocol. Your troubles hadn’t evaporated the way you’d expected upon getting out from under all that fluorescent lighting, but you do feel much better being miserable on your own couch.

You cough into the bag a few more times before relinquishing yourself to the idea that you’re stuck with this nausea for the foreseeable future. “I don’t like this,” you decide, lowering the bag from your face.

Remus tosses a thermometer to Sirius, who catches it with a good-natured eye-roll and sets it in your ear compliantly.

“I’m sorry, my love,” James says, his hand migrating to your shoulder as you lean back against the couch cushions. “I know it’s rough right now.”

The thermometer beeps, and Sirius reads the number aloud as he takes it out. You frown.

“Oh, thank god,” Remus exhales. James chuckles at him.

“It’s okay?” you check.

“Perfectly okay.” Sirius kisses your temple. “That’s completely normal for the first twenty-four hours. You’re all good, sweetness.”

Pathetically, you feel a bit invalidated. To feel as gross as you do, surely your brain would have to be fully boiling in there. James must see some of this on your face, because he scoots closer to you on the couch, leaning you against his side.

“Sorry,” you say quietly.

You can feel Sirius gaze boring into the side of your head as he perches on the armrest. “Not sure why you would be,” he mutters, worming his cold feet underneath your thigh, “but do go on.”

“I made you all take me home and now I’m being difficult.”

You’re not quite looking at any of them, but you could swear a collective sigh goes up from your boyfriends.

“Dove,” says Remus, “look at me.”

You do, shifting ever so slightly closer to James' side for comfort. A quiet chuckle rumbles through him, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your shoulder.

Remus’ gaze is steady and kind, his usual remonstrance curbed for your sorry state. “You’re not being difficult,” he tells you. “You’re tired and not feeling well, and that’s to be expected after a procedure like this. I didn’t mean I regret us taking you home, I’m only nervous that you’d have been better taken care of in the hospital.”

“Impossible,” Sirius remarks. Remus nods in grudging acknowledgement.

“I’m glad I’m home,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice teeters on the edge of a whimper. “I’d rather be with just you guys, you know?”

“We know,” Remus says gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

James makes a soft sound, rubbing your shoulder more firmly. “Are you feeling tired, angel? We could have a nap.”

“We?” you ask.

“What, you think you’re the only one who deserves a rest?” Sirius wiggles his toes underneath your thigh. “You got to sleep just this morning. We’ve been worrying all day long.”

You smile. He looks thrilled to see it, and James stamps a kiss of approval on your cheek. “Right, my bad. A nap sounds good.”

“Perfect,” Remus agrees, standing. James needles his arms underneath you to pick you up again.

“Fairly sure they said I could walk on my own,” you say.

James only shrugs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Not sure I heard that part. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

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formulafics · 6 months

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★ DO I WANNA KNOW? | JB22

Scenario: in which a series of unexpected events, starting with being stuck in the same hotel room with a single bed, takes teammates yn ln and jenson button from major rivals to lovers.

Pairing: jenson button x fem!reader

A/N: no one asked for this but LAWD I LOVE JENSON BUTTON. i had to do something about it 😔 shoutout to @renarots for supplying memes and 4 am brain rot that contributed to the making of this fic and most of my other ones too

NOTE: yn and jenson drive for mercedes (i had to do this for my own sanity)

racing_news

liked by buttonnation, sebrrari, and 12,432 others

racing_news jenson button responds to questions about his relationship with teammate yn ln following this weekends rumors.

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formulawrld idec about the rumors jenson looks so fine bro

formulavettel i bet seb knows all the tea about them. sebastian please spill

webbersebberf1 🤨 surely they could have just gotten another room? they have the money for it. idk, me thinks they’re dating and trying to keep it secret

⤷ ferrarilvr LITERALLY. you genuinely cannot convince me that they aren’t dating after this

⤷ shumione you genuinely thing they’re together even with how much they clearly don’t like each other?

⤷ ferrarilvr 🤷🏻‍♀️ things change and honestly i feel like they’ve had feelings for each other and just didn’t want to admit it

It had been three months since the “hotel incident”. Finally, you texted him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but you were ultimately relieved by his response, and didn’t wast a single moment on making your way to him.

With each step you take, a small splash sounds beneath your feet. Rain patters on the ground, and you pull your jacket closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that blows through the night. Each stride is powerful and determined - the truth is, you like Jenson. What once was a deep disdain for the man has somehow formed into a blossoming adoration for him. Miscommunications and mistakes lead you down the wrong path with him, but ever since the night of the “hotel incident” — as you, Jenson, and your team call it — you haven’t been able to see him in a bad light.

“Look, i’m sorry,” Jenson says, his expression softer than it had ever been towards you. You were almost offended, thinking he was about to try and make you feel bad, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re more than welcome to go - actually, i’ll pay for your hotel room if you want to leave, but if you’re choosing to stay, i’ll give you your space.” It was unlike him, at least, the him that you knew. He seemed remorseful and genuine, like you and him were anything but rivals. It made your heart beat just a little faster in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how strangely right it felt to be in the same bed with him. Even sharing the room was almost natural.

You turned away from each other to change, but both of you were guilty of peeking over your shoulder. Your eyes lingered for longer than you’d ever admit, but the same went for him. Neither of you could muster the courage to say anything, to address the tension between you both, and despite what should have been an awkward atmosphere, you both found yourselves comfortable in each others presence, even with the weight of your forbidden thoughts.

Not much happened after that, truthfully. Things did change though. Suddenly, his presence didn’t irk you, and you could never get on his nerves. You worked together more willingly, almost volunteered, and through those minor changes, you both came to realize how wrong you’d been about the other. Sure, Jenson had his moments, but he was sweet, a genuine and polite guy. You weren’t entitled the way Jenson thought - in fact, you were humble, kind…and how could he ever not see just how beautiful you are?

He doesn’t know the answer to that, but now, knowing that you’re moments away, he finds himself anxious. In a good way. He’s excited to see you, and he laughs to himself about how ironic that is given how he used to dread seeing you. A knock on his door draws him back to reality, and he knows it’s you. Outside of the hotel room, you wait impatiently, and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally opens the door. Instanly, like an instinct, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his warmth. His reaction is just as instinctive, and he wraps his arms around you, guiding you into the privacy of his room.

For the first time, you talked. Not yelled, not argued, just spoke to one another. It was a completely different experience for the two of you, one that you never thought would come of your relationship, but it came to you naturally. The warm touch of his hand holding yours, the somehow assuring and slightly intimidating way he looked at you as you spoke, the way he didn’t just listen to you, he heard you. And, you did the same for him. Though he didn’t have much to say, you listened and heard, and soon, you felt as though you’d only just met him, yet known him for years. Not the rival Jenson, but a Jenson you could get used to, one that you didn’t back away from when he leaned in.

It was a small, sealing kiss that he placed on your lips. One to really ensure that all of this was happening, that things were changing between the both of you, and you both accepted it, with a weight lifting off of your shoulders.

mercedesamgf1

liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, and 265,672 others

mercedesamgf1 last time in Abu Dhabi…

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hereforbutton okay but are jenson and yn dating? PLEASE TELL US

formulaobsessed ARE YOUR DRIVERS DATING? YES OR NO?

⤷ mercedesamgf1 🤭

⤷ hereforbutton okay so what the fuck does that mean

formulayn we do NOT care about jenson rn where is my wife

mercamgfan maybe this time don’t prioritize the inferior driver 🙏🏻 yn deserves her wdc

hereforyn i’m so scared that this race is gonna send yn and jenson back into their rival arc

⤷ jensonbuttonlvr NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. i cant handle them going back to rivals now

⤷ ynsgirlie i know. now that we have them being nice, i can’t imagine going back to what they used to be

mercedesamgf1

liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 346,789 others

mercedesamgf1 OUR WORLD CHAMPION ❤️ an exceptional performance from yn today, and a well deserved win. thank you for another amazing year, @/the.ynln

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the.ynln i’m gonna cry 💔 thank you guys so much.

formulayn THATS MY FUCKING WIFE IM SO PROUD OF HER

buttonynamg MY BABIES P1-P2 IN WDC IM SO PROUD RIGHT NOW

formulaobssesed who’s here after the post race interview? 🤭

⤷ markwebba I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL IN LOVE

⤷ jensonsbutton bro jenson was heart eyes for her in the whole interview and the way he kissed her cheek when she started talking about their relationship 💔 he was so gentle

⤷ hereforbutton what got me was her getting emotional about the win and him hugging her like :( i was always hoping they’d start getting along but i did not expect them to become like this

🏷️: general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse

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honeywiththemoneyloa222 · 1 month

Text

Why the Void State is so easy?

When bloggers say the void is easy

They’re not lying

Here’s why

Every time you fall asleep you lose awareness of the 3D

During this time

Everything around you does not exist because you are in your 4D

Which is why entering the void is easy

You’re doing EXACTLY what you do when you fall asleep

You just lose awareness of the 3D!!!

Only difference is now

You’re doing it on purpose

You’re just becoming aware that you are pure consciousness

There are lots of moments in life where we are no longer aware of focusing on the 3D

When we zone out in class

Daydreaming about our crush

Thinking what we’re gonna do when we get home from school or whatever

During these moments we do not focus on the 3D

And it feels good

To daydream

About our desires if about our favorite person or food of whatever

Because in that particular situation you are just thinking of something that makes you feel good

You’ve ever daydreamed so hard you can physically feel what you’re imagining? It takes you away from your reality

Which is why people snap their fingers at you to snap you back into “reality”

But What is reality?

Reality to me

Is whatever you assume

Whatever you want

If you’re sitting in class hungry

But you’re daydreaming about a juicy cheeseburger

I mean think about it

It’s got the perfect amount of cheese

Lettuce tomato onions the meat is cooked to your desire crispy or soft buns

(Damn I’m getting hungry)

Be honest

You just went

“Mmm” didn’t you?

Because when you daydream

It results in feelings cuz our body it reacting to whatever we’re thinking about causing emotions

Emotions play a key part in our self confidence

If you think negatively you’ll feel bad about yourself

Think positive thoughts and you’ll feel good

It’s this easy because you’re simply giving your positive thoughts a label and by labeling them you’re giving them importance

So when it comes to the void state

Reality Shifting manifesting Lucid Dreaming etc whatever

Feel

The key is to FEEL

Your thoughts

Feel your desires as you visualize them

Many people label things and give it importance

By saying you “failed” to enter the void of to shift

You’re giving it power and importance

STOP DOING THAT ✋

Because the only powerful thing here is you

There’s nothing in this world you can’t have Sugar

If you want it a you it is yours

It’s yours

Failure in my opinion IS an option if you assume you’ll fail

Then you will

Don’t make this an option for yourself

“I’m gonna TRY to enter the void tonight”

Yeah bitch that’s exactly what you always do

You TRY

You gave that word importance

By doing so

You’re only stuck thinking and feeling

That all you are able to do is TRY

No you are GOING TO

There’s no trying there’s doing

When we call ourselves a procrastinator or lazy we give that word importance

By giving it that label

We’re making it harder for us to change our ways

When we say we are depressed

We’re giving it power

STOP PUTTING LABELS ON SHIT THAT DOESN’T EVEN RESONATE WITH YOU

So when meditating for the void

Your desires are that cheeseburger(sorry for any vegans here)

Thoughts create feelings

When we think about something bad

“Omg what if this what if that?”

Etc

You’re going to start panicking

Mental disorders, intrusive thoughts are JUST like this

Coming from someone who used to deal with countless mental issues

I’ve been knowing this

So think about it the longer we let in unwanted thoughts we go crazy obsessing over them to the point where we start hearing or seeing things because our minds told us so

This is what created delusion fear

And something as simple as a thought could cause you to feel very negative thing as if it were real

If you think about something negative and it creates negative feelings and energy

Not only did you give it power but you’re letting it consume your energy

Why?

If you can think negatively

You can think positively

Like I said before

It’s YOUR brain

Why are you fighting it?

You’re fighting yourself OVER yourself and you’re still losing??? Huh

Babe how you losing a war that YOU started??

And why are you letting fuck ass thoughts that don’t resonate with you win?

If it doesn’t resonate with your soul it’s not meant for you and if it’s not meant for you then it will never be true

Because thoughts are thoughts

They’re the results of whatever you spend our time obsessing over

If you’re always talking about your crush

You’re gonna think about them 24/7 right?

Stop thinking

Start feeling

It’s ok to daydream

But don’t constantly think and obsess over your desires

Because of f you already had your desired bf or your desired face you wouldn’t obsess over it

LIVE IN THE END

This is your movie

If you you can skip to the best part and just stay there

Life is a movie

Who cares if nobody comes to watch and support

Who cares if it’s not interesting for some people

It only has to make sense for you

It only has to make you happy

The 3D is just here

The 4D is the REAL reality

In the 4D you are everything you wanna be

In the 3D you are not

Why?

Well bitch you’re not connecting with your 4D self

Because your 4D self

Is YOU

The 3D is dead

3D you exists because of her assumptions

You might think this is clicking

But the 4D you gets it

The 3D you does not

She needs to disconnect from HER reality

In order to be in tune with her 4D reality

So she can live in her real true reality

You need to connect with your 4D

The 3D is the cover of a book

It can be changed if you(the author) doesn’t like it

But the 4D is the inside of the book once it’s been published

You’re the author of your own life

Don’t hand someone else the pen

Create the story(reality) that YOU want to see and live in

Add new characters

Create plot twists

Because the best thing about being the author of your own life

Is nobody gets to tell you how to write your story

If you don’t like how you’re living

Turn the page💗💗

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mysmuttyy · 7 months

Text

LISTEN; MATTHEO RIDDLE SMUT

stalker mattheo knows a lot about you, stuff nobody else knows.

MY BACK IS PRESSED AGAINST A TREE, thick book resting in the palm of my hands, pages flicking over in the wind. I haven’t been able to focus for the past five minutes, all I’ve done is stare out at the water, watching the leaves move with the wind.

The wind blows against me, fly aways falling into my eyes, repeatedly. I huff, tugging the strands behind my ears, but it’s no use.

I get close to getting up and leaving, but the sound of leaves crunching a little behind me steals my attention. Not many people know about the black lake, which is pretty odd because you’d expect the exact opposite, right?

My eyes focus on a tall figure, curly hair, muscular body. I can’t quite pinpoint who he is - til he gets closer, not noticing me under the big tree closest to the water.

I exhale a deep breath, about to get up and leave, again, but he steals my attention away. Slipping his black shirt over his head, tossing it by my feet.

His back muscles stare right at me and I can’t help but slam my thighs together, hoping he didn’t hear the slap of my skin. I breathe heavily, eyes wandering down his well toned figure.

Thick thighs stand out to me, sending wild thoughts running through my brain. A wet patch forms on the front of my lace panties, clit throbbing for him.

Mattheo Riddle, the dark lords son, someone they say is extremely dangerous. One they avoid in the halls, never daring to make eye contact with him. In my honest opinion, I think they’re over exaggerating. If he was a dangerous person, he would’ve done something by now and he hasn’t.

He keeps to himself and minds his business.

It kinda breaks my heart. He doesn’t have any friends, because people would rather judge him than get to know him. Stuck up rich kids with slyly torment him, trying to rile him up, but he ignores it.

“Are you done staring at me, y/n?” His deep voice speaks, making my stomach flutter with a flock of butterflies. That’s the first time I’ve heard him speak in two years.

The last time he spoke, he was apologising for getting in my way. If he was so dangerous, why would he apologise?

He clears his throat, pulling me out of my messy train of thoughts. “S-Sorry..Um, I’ll leave!” I exclaim, but he shakes his head at me, running his wet hand through his, now wet curls.

I push my thighs together once more, my face growing red at the way his stare makes me feel. “Did I say you had to leave?” He asks, raising his brows at me.

My heart beats even faster, so fast I fear it might pump out of my chest. “Well what do you want me to do?” I question, trying my best not to sound scared of him. It’s not that I’m scared of him, he’s just incredibly gorgeous and it makes me nervous.

Too nervous to speak.

“Take your shirt off.” He smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. My breath hitches, eyes widening at his words. His brown eyes stare into my blue ones, something glistening in them, something I can’t figure.

“My shirt?” I test, raising my brows, a smirk crossing over my face. He laughs, looking down at his chest. My body lifts, back no longer pressed against the painful back that was digging into my skin.

I slowly pull my shirt up, over my head, dropping it on top of his. He looks back up, face growing red when he looks at my cleavage. My smirk grows as I put my hands out, waiting for him to help my body into the water.

He takes my hands into his, turning me into liquid with just his touch. All of my confidence evaporates, on the spot, hairs that lie on the back of my neck sticking up. “T-Thank you.” I mumble, looking away from his gorgeous face.

Now that I’m in the water, the wetness of my arousal is easier to ignore. Mattheo and I’s hands are still touching, intertwined. The tension between us quickly grows, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

“Fuck, this is bad.” I speak, bursting the silence. He raises his brows at me, tilting his head in confusion. The curls on his head flop to the side, making me almost giggle at how cute it is.

“What’s bad?” He asks, confused look quickly turning into a excited, yet evil look. “Maybe you getting wet at my muscles, slamming your thighs together in hopes the throbbing dies down?” He ponders, letting my hands go, stepping closer to me.

I quiver, eyes widened, face tomato red. “Or maybe it’s the fact that you want me to fuck you right now?” He continues, fucking with your mind.

Anger boils in your chest as you step forward, slamming your hands against his wet chest. “First of, fucker! It’s considered rude to invade my mind without consent!” I shout, glaring up at the man with audacity probably bigger than his dick.

He scoffs, grabbing my throat in his veiny hand. “You must be really horny to be thinking of how big my dick is, huh?” He laughs, leaning down to my face.

“You’re thinking of fucking my tits, Mattheo. Don’t act so fucking innocent.” I retort, glaring harder at him. He lets my throat go, a look of shock on his face.

The two of us remain silent, our eyes locked, deep diving into one another’s brain. I grow tired of it, leaning up to finally smash my lips against his.

He kisses back, wrapping his arms around my body, pulling me to his chest. My breast press up against his chest, causing him to grow hard against my body.

“Tsk, tsk. You just got hard because of a stranger, that’s gotta be a little embarrassing.” You tease, not expecting him to say what he says..

“You’re not a stranger baby.”

—

A/n; I really don’t know what this is, but I’m really obsessed with the quiet kid trope. Mainly because I’m obsessed with a quiet kid at school 😃😃

Anyways, please send in some suggestions for what smut to write and who it’s ab!! Should I do pt 2?

#mysmutty #harrypotter #hp fancast #hp smut #smut #part one #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #thedarklordsson #benjamin wadsworth #spicy stuff #i need sex #hope you enjoy #i wanna fuck him so bad

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

Note

Clock, I need you to know that I dreamt about that fic you aren't writing.

Clock, I don't dream. And on the very rare instances that I do, it's 99% disjointed nonsense that slips out of my head within 10 minutes of waking up. Literally, in my 24 years of life I've only had like 3 or 4 dreams that actually stuck.

But that fic you aren't writing has apparently sunk itself so deep into my brain that I had a once in a blue moon memorable dream about it.

It was still a bit disjointed, but I distinctly recall a dinner party? potluck? IDK, there was food; at Danny and Jason's apartment complex. Like, the while building. Some of Red Hood's crew was there. And Jason was in civvies. Dick was there too. And Danny was conspiring with everyone (not Jason) to be a mischievous little shit. So there weren't enough chairs. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

Oh my gods that is amazing. Also I'm sorry(?) for making you dream? Or you're welcome?

As a gift, to feed your poor brain... let's write a little bit of this. Hum, when would this happen for max amusement... Let's say this is after Danny has asked Hood if he wanted to share, but before the Goon scene.

“What the fuck,” Dick murmured to himself.

“They’re hiding chairs,” the stranger, who Dick hadn’t noticed leaning against the kitchen counter till then, explained.

Dick tilted his head in thought and took another sip of the battery acid they were calling punch at this potluck. The potency of the drink might explain what he was watching happen.

The chair on top of the tenuous stack wobbled dangerous.

One of the men— Marco? —who were trying to shove the stack of three chairs into the closet shushed the chair. He pointed at it like one would a misbehaving dog and that the threat alone would get it to stay.

Definitely the punch.

“Why?”

“Because if there aren’t enough chairs, someone is going to have to sit in someone else’s lap and they’re plotting to make that happen,” the stranger said.

Dick took a moment to glance away from the game of closet Jenga to look over the other person. They were a slight thing, but slight in the way that spoke of lean muscles and a hidden strength. It reminded Dick of how Wally was built. The bright aqua eyes were almost unnerving in how bold the color was. The way they were grinning, widely, as they continued to watch the struggle didn’t exactly make them any less unsettling.

They took a large bite out of the cookie they had in hand.

A cookie sounded like a good idea. Dick snagged one from the platter, recognizing Jason’s baking.

Cinnamon and spice bloomed across his tongue. “Huh. Okay. Does Jason know?”

The stranger laughed, shaking their head. “No, that would defeat the whole purpose. He’s the intended chair.”

“Huh.” Well that was interesting. “Who’s the intended seater. Sitter? Sittie?”

“That would be me,” the stranger said, sticking their hand not holding the cookie out. Dick set his war crime known as punch down to shake it. “Hi, I’m Danny. I’m your brother’s accidental sugar baby.”

Dick choked on thin air.

Just how potent was that punch?

#blathers and bits #ailithnight #askme answeryou #the fic that i'm not writing #dp x dc #dead on main #to achy to tag #will tag if it becomes a 'real' part later

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st-eve-barnes · 6 months

Text

Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)

Chapter 2

Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?

This chapter: Michael starts tutoring you but things are off to a rocky start.

Word count: +1900

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.

Read Chapter 1 Here

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

After almost two hours of Michael’s tutoring you were beginning to contemplate throwing in the towel and just letting Ben release that video. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Michael had been cocky as soon as you had sat down in front of him in the library that evening. Right now he was bordering on rude and very obviously growing more impatient with you by the minute. And the faster he talked the less you listened, leaving you both frustrated.

You had a splitting headache and all the numbers and calculations were just dancing across the page now, mocking you. None of it made any sense, no matter how many different ways Michael tried to explain it all to you.

You were good with history, languages, art or psychology. Numbers were hell on earth.

“Are you even listening?” Michael sighed impatiently, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Yes,” you nodded, followed by a heavy sigh,”No, ugh..I’m sorry, I just…I lost my focus about an hour ago.”

“An hour ago? You didn’t even have it to begin with,” Michael called you out.

“I just don’t know how this is so easy for you, like you don’t even have to think about it at all.”

“That’s because I don’t,” he answered smugly, making you roll your eyes.”Go on. Ask me a sum.”

You sighed some more but indulged him anyway,”33 times 20.”

He gave you a look,”Don’t insult me, a real sum.”

“333 times 444.”

“147.852,” he answered without even blinking. You had no way of knowing if his answer was even correct but you didn’t doubt it for a second.

“How did you do that so fucking fast?”

“I don’t know, I can just do it, in my head, I don’t have to think about it.”

“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes again.

“They’re gonna get stuck in your head if you keep doing that, you know,” he teased, making you squint your eyes at him.

He shook his head with a little amused grin,“Ask me another one then.”

“It’s fine, you made your point, you’re a genius.”

“Ask me another one, just to be sure,” he insisted.

“Michael, it’s fine, I get it.”

‘Ask me another fucking sum!” he raised his voice, making the few other people in the library look up at you both with annoyed looks on his face. You wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.

“Alright, fucking hell…1245 times 987.”

“1.228.815,” he answered, giving you another satisfied little smile.

You just stared at him without saying anything.

“My brain works different from yours,” he then explained.

“Yeah, no shit.”

You were beginning to see why Ben was so threatened by him, Michael was an actual mathematical genius, Ben didn’t stand a chance at that internship. That thought suddenly filled you with immense joy. And then fear, because if Ben didn’t stand a chance then what were you even doing here?

Michael watched as your face fell.

“Do you want to take a break?” he suggested.

You nodded,”Yeah, a permanent one, I’m never going to get this.” You dropped your head onto the table and let out a desperate little whine.

Michael just shook his head,”So you’re a quitter, I would say I’m shocked but my mum told me never to tell a lie.”

You lifted your head to give him an angry glare but he just ignored you and closed his books, not giving you time to object before he was up and out of his seat.

“When you’re serious about wanting to learn, you know where to find me,” he said,”Until then…stop wasting my time.”

“Michael,” you sighed but he was already walking away from you, and with it your last chance to stop Ben.

You couldn’t let this happen, if you let him go now your fate was sealed.

“Michael, wait!” you rushed after him without thinking, finding him halfway in one of the book shelves.

You grabbed at his arm to stop him, taking him by surprise.

He froze, eyes staring wildly at the spot where your hand was touching his arm. But he didn’t pull back or try to stop you. Instead he almost seemed to lean into your space a little, accepting your touch, his mouth opened in a surprised little sigh when your fingers gently closed around his elbow.

Of course the nerd was touch starved, it was almost too predictable. And was that a blush creeping up on his pale cheeks?

Ben had been right, Michael clearly wasn’t used to being touched, especially not by a woman. But he didn’t seem to dislike it, at all.

Maybe this mission wasn’t so impossible after all.

It was a desperate move, you realized that, but desperate is what you were.

“Please, wait,” you begged again, placing your other hand on his wrist while you gave him your best sad eyes and pouty lips,”You can’t give up on me, Michael. Please, you’re the only one who can help me, I need you.”

You watched him swallow hard at those last words, his eyes flickering from yours down to your lips and back up again.

He was staring now, shamelessly, not even trying to hide it. You used his obvious interest to lean in closer, so close he could almost feel your breath against his cheek and when you slowly and very deliberately licked your lips you could hear him bite back a quiet whimper.

You took another step forward and carefully pressed your body up against his. That’s when you felt it, undeniably, he was hard. You had barely touched him and yet he was rock hard in his stupid cargo pants.

You had him right where you wanted him and you could have sworn he was about to close that final distance between you two and pull you in for a kiss.

But then he leaned back and his thin lips curled up into a smug, annoyed grin.

“What are you playing at?” he asked.

“What do you mean? I’m not playing….”

“Stop lying to me, you stupid girl,” he growled and took a few steps back from you,”You say you want a tutor but you don’t give a shit about what I’m trying to teach you and now you want to…what….seduce me? How daft do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re daft at all!”

“I know this isn’t about math and it sure as hell isn’t about you wanting to get into my pants, girls like you don’t want nerds like me.”

“Girls like me?” you asked, staring at him with anger in your eyes,”Oh, you mean stupid girls like me? Listen, you little shit…”

“I meant pretty girls like you,” he interrupted you, shutting you up instantly.

He took a step closer again, towering over you and forcing you to lean against the book shelves behind you.

“What is it you want from me then?” he mused, as if he was asking the question more to himself and not you,”You’ve never paid any attention to me before this week…not until…I saw you scheming with Ben in the library a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened at his statement and it was enough for Michael to know he was onto something.

“I fucking knew it,” he shook his head and laughed,”What does that twat want from me this time, hmm?”

“Nothing,” you answered, too quickly.

“You’re a bad liar, girl.”

His stare was making you nervous, you wanted to blurt out everything to him and at the same time run away and never speak another word again. But there was no place to run from Ben and his ugly threats. Michael was your only ticket out of that bad spot.

He stepped back from you with a sigh,“Fine. Whatever. Tell your rich little friend that whatever you and him want from me he’s not going to get it, under any circumstances. Can you remember that or should I write it down for you?”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Michael’s harsh tone combined with the hopelessness of your situation was suddenly too much and you burst out into tears.

To your surprise Michael’s whole demeanor changed instantly and he rubbed his hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

You started crying,“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this shit, I’m so sorry, Michael.”

For a moment he just looked at you, your tears and desperation too real for him to ignore.

Then he leaned back against the book shelves next to you, not saying a word. You looked up at him through your teary lashes and it was the first time you could see real compassion in his blue eyes. ”What does he have on you?” he asked softly.

”We used to date, he has some…private material he’s threatening to release.”

“Fucking prick,” Michael spat out.

“Yeah, he really is and I’m an idiot for ever being with him,” you wiped at your tears and looked surprised when Michael reached into his pocket and handed you a handkerchief. It looked like the ones your grandma used to have and you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

”Thanks,” you sobbed and used it to wipe your cheeks dry.

“So…what did he want you to do in return then?”

”He wants that internship at Charter Inc.”

Michael nodded knowingly,”Yeah, that one is mine.”

“I know,” you smiled weakly,”That’s why he…he wanted me to distract you.”

Michael scoffed,”Jesus fuck, what an idiot. There’s nothing on this earth he can do to keep me from getting that job.”

You nodded,”I know.”

And with that realization came more tears. You used Michael’s handkerchief to keep them at bay.

“Do you think he’d actually do it?” he asked,”Are they just empty threats?”

“I honestly don’t know what he’s capable of and I don’t want to find out.”

You both stayed quiet for a while. Michael didn’t make any attempts to comfort you or touch you, but he didn’t move from his spot right next to you either.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, Michael, this isn’t your problem, or your fight.”

He nodded,”Yeah, you’re right, it isn’t.”

You could feel your stomach drop in defeat.

“But,” he then added,”I’d really fucking hate to see a rich kid win in life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears.”Got any ideas?”

He thought about that for a little while and then he nodded,”We could…make him believe his plan is working? I mean, for now, until we can come up with something better.”

“How?”

“He won’t do anything as long as he believes you’re on board, yeah?”

“I guess not.”

“So we pretend that you’re…distracting me.”

You laughed bitterly at his choice of words.”He wants me to fuck you, that’s what he means by distracting you. You realize that, right?” you then blurted out and Michael snorted out loud but he regained his composure quickly.

“Then…I guess we pretend that you’re fucking me,” he said calmly, letting his eyes meet yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the good kind.

“Alright,” you nodded.

“Alright,” Michael repeated, keeping his eyes on you for a few moments too long before he eventually looked away and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling shyly,”When do we start then?”

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x female reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #michael gavey smut

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twstddream · 2 years

Note

If your request are still open can I ask for some hc of Savanaclaw trio, Octavinelle trio , and the diasomnia gang reacting to:

Twst boy: what you reading there?

Mc: *walking out of room* 101 ways to seduce a male _____" (ie. Hyena, fae or octopus) ~❤

I’m not gonna lie, I had no clue how to write this. But, I’m giving it a shot. The MC will be more flirty, but aloof at the same time. And just for y’all Che’nya lovers, I added him to the list :)

THIS WAS REQUESTEDLAST OCTOBER I’M SO SORRY

Story outline: The boys notice you reading a book. Now they’re subjected to your interesting reading material

GN!Reader by default. No personal pronouns used besides they/them.

Ambiguous relationship with the boys.

• Leona had few things he cared about at Night Raven College. Those being magical shift tournaments, napping under the shade of his favourite tree in the botanical garden, and you. He often found himself pouring all of his love and attention into you, and you didn’t mind reciprocating one bit.

So of course he’d notice once your attention starts to waver from him.

• You see, just a few days ago, Ruggie had approached you asking for help in returning and checking out some new books for classes. After messing around with Ruggie for a bit (and being told to quiet down more than a handful of times) you both had stumbled across a rather fascinating book. At the behest of the cheeky hyena boy, you had checked “How to Seduce Afterglow Savannah Beastmen” out of the library.

• Nothing much gets past Leona, even when’s asleep he’s somehow acutely aware of his surroundings. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he sat up and badgered you about whatever, but you wanted to control the topic today.

• Finally stirring from his catnap, he noticed that damned book in your hands. He only stared for a few moments, waiting for you to engage with him, but you hadn’t.

• “Oi, herbivore,” Leona finally spoke up “what’s that book you have there, hm? Is it really that much more important than me?” He teased.

• Ohoho, he fell right into your trap.

You held up the still-open book in your hands for him to read.

“Nothing much, Leona. I just picked up a book I thought looked interesting today...”

Now that he can read the chapter you were on his eyes widen in shock

“... How to Seduce a Male Lion Beastman”

• “Hah? What are you trying to start here, human?” he bore his fangs lightly

• This was the time to play dumb.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m not trying to start anything, Leona. I’m just indulging in a good book.” You replied, all while batting your eyelashes sweetly at him.

• “You’re reading that in my bed, forgive me for making such accusations.” His sarcasm did not go unnoticed. But after that he flipped over and fell asleep.

-------

• After the initial incident, he expected you to drop it, but to his utter surprise (and slight embarrassment) you once again brought that damn book to his dorm room. What’s more, he’s seen that you’ve made significant progress in the book, 3/4 of the way finished judging by the bookmark you’ve left stuck between the pages.

• Leona lets out a heavy, laboured sigh. He knows you’re not gonna drop this until you get the reaction you want.

“I’ll indulge you just this once, herbivore,” Leona rolls over and faces towards you, laying on his side with his arms propping himself up, an expectant look on his face

“Hit me with your best shot. I wanna see you put that rotten book to use. If it turns out that you’ve been wasting your time, I’ll be looking forward to see how you make it up to me.”

• Okay, nothing to worry about, all you have to do is uhhh...

• Being put on the spot like this has made you forget everything you’ve (jokingly) read.

• In your panic you did the only thing your malfunctioning brain could think to do. You lean in and place a quick peck on his lips, quickly retreating to your side of the bed, placing your face in your hands and curl your body away from the lion beastman now sat at attention next to you.

• Leona let out a loud and boisterous laugh, something so rarely elicited from the normally lazy and jaded prince.

"Hahahah! You really though you had something there, didn’t you?” His laughter quickly but quietly died down, and he became serious. Taking advantage of the now slightly-tense atmosphere, he trailed on,

“Hah, in all honesty, I don’t think you need some book to ‘seduce’ me. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger..” his voice died off towards the end but you heard him perfectly fine.

• “Well, if we’re admitting truths here, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” You shyly confess.

• Staying silent, but nodding to acknowledge what you said, he shifted closer to you and leaned in, a soft plea on his lips

“Do it again...”

-------

“I’m waiting to see how you’ll make it up to me. And no more of these soft affections, I expect you to fully devote yourself to me from now on, and to honour me properly.”

• Ruggie has taught you many things. To enjoy the small pleasures that life brings, how to efficiently utilize everything you’re given, and his most important of imparted knowledge, how to have a good laugh.

• Ruggie isn’t one for practical jokes per se, but he’s always up for messing with and teasing others’ when the opportunity presents itself (and it’s safe to do so.) He’ll rope you into his badgering on occasion, and he’s sure to share the blame with you (even if you didn’t actually do anything.)

• With all of his past jests in mind, you decide to mess with him yourself. The poor boy is so easy to fluster with genuine affection, it’s easy to come up with the method of which you’re going to torment him.

• You pick up a book from a small library on Sage Island and quickly employ all that you’ve learned. All that you’ve learned was, essentially, to walk funny. Hilarious diagrams were shown, and you were convinced you had it down pat. Now all there was to do was to, ahem, present yourself to the hyena boy. Even if it was embarrassing you were sure he’d get a laugh out of it, even if your original intent was to set the boy’s heart aflutter (through unconventional means, that is.)

• But then you decided your pride and dignity are more important than doing a funny walk. So you opted to just present the book to him.

• It was easy to track down Ruggie down in the Savanaclaw dorm. He was always running around doing various chores and tasks, ever the dutiful golden goose- er, hyena.

He notices you approaching and quickly whistles in your direction while sending you a short wave of acknowledgement.

• Time to enact your master plan. Quickly jogging over to the young boy, you pull out your prized possession and call out,

“Oi, Ruggie! I wanted to ask you some questions!”

The second year’s tail started wagging wildly behind him.

• You want to ask him a question, meaning you want his help with something? Out of everyone you went to him. Oh, he was over the moon.

‘What’s that you’re holding? A book? So you want help with studying, huh? It’s gonna cost you though. Hmm, what should he charge you, a meal at the cafeteria? Or maybe some help with shopping? Oh wait you’re right in front of him now uh oh -were you saying something?’

• His agape mouth only opened even more when he spotted the title of the book you brought along with you.

“101 Ways to Seduce a Male Hyena”

• “He- hey! What are you doing with something like that, huh?! Are you trying to start something?!”

You responded with a simple nod and a loose smile. His cheeks were dusted with a dull pink, and his widened eyes were twitching ever so slightly. A beautiful sight, indeed. Unfortunately for you, he recovered quickly, his gaze shying away and holding his hand to his mouth to muffle his words and hide his face.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that? As compensation, I expect you to help me with this laundry.”

• Okay, fair enough. You got what you wanted. You throw the book on top of the pile of already folded clothes and get to work, Ruggie still avoiding your curious gaze.

-------

“If you’re gonna do such a poor job then I might as well teach you myself. I’ll let you know though, I’m very much a hands-on kind of teacher, shishishi~! And it won’t be cheap either! But I guess since you’re so eager to learn, I might give you a discount. Only because we’re this close...”

• Jack liked his routine, it was familiar, and it helped improve what he considered essential in his life. He can appreciate that you join in on his daily training, or studying. Even if you’re not joining in, and all you’re doing is passing him his water or towel, or handing him a new pen when is runs out. You’re kind like that.

• With that being said Jack didn’t expect you to enter his dorm room holding a book with the title “How to attract a wolf beastman” because why would someone like you do that. You wouldn’t do that, right?

• He rubs his eyes and sees that he is, in fact, not having the strangest nightmare of his life. No, this is real alright.

“Jack! Just the man I wanted to see!” You greet, inviting yourself to sit on his bed, choosing not to make a comment on the flustered state of your best friend.

Jack is stuck in place, feeling like he just got pushed into a surprise ice bath.

• His reaction really isn’t anything other than switching between a mixture of shock, mortification, and the tiniest bit of envy.

• But why envy? Why I feel jealous over what is clearly a small prank. Is it that I feel insignificant enough for them to do this, but then again, in them going through with their prank does that make me special? But would they do this with just anyone? If it garnered the same result, would they try and fluster just about anyone? Agh, thinking about all of this is useless!

• Nothing prepared you for Jack crossing the room and ripping the book out of your hands faster than you could blink. He holds the book loosely in one hand, his other placed on his hips, and holding the book as far away from him as he can, all the while reprimanding you with his glare alone.

“You’re crazy, you know that? I don’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of your messes, especially when you pull stuff like this. What if it was anyone else but me? Someone less savoury and can’t take a joke or a no. I don’t want you getting hurt over such a small trick...”

“What do you mean ‘it’s only for me’!? That’s it! Out!”

• Jack couldn’t stay mad for too long and went to apologize to you for his outburst with an offer of lunch in the cafeteria. Which you found strange, he was the victim of the prank, not you? Why apologize for getting (appropriately) angry?

• He took your fucking lunch that’s why. He’s a damn scoundrel and a liar.

-------

“What do you think you’re doing?! ..Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not flustered at all! I’m concerned for your well-being is all; carrying something like that around in Savanaclaw is sure to bring about some unwanted attention. Of course, I’ll protect you from any rowdy students, don’t mistake me for some scoundrel... I know you were looking for my attention, and now that you’ve got it, I don’t want you seeking out another’s. Heh, you’re crazy for doing this, but don’t expend that effort for anyone else. Only me, got it?”

• Azul tries so hard to keep up his suave businessman persona, but he fails miserably. He’s slumping into himself, face red, with his mouth agape. He looked ridiculous.

• Genuinely has an anime glasses crack moment. He sits silent in his seat but quickly starts sputtering nonsense and averts his gaze, looking everywhere but you.

• It takes a monumental amount of effort to not start reading off a paragraph from the book. But you decide that Azul’s in enough agony as it is.

• “My dear, is there ah- any particular reason for your visit today?” The poor octomer looked about ready to burst, all while trying to compose himself.

“Not that I don’t enjoy your visits and our time together, no, no. Any time spent with you is time well spent! But I- you see- uhm...” He rambles on.

• Standing from your seat, you make your way over the dazed man, stopping mere inches from him, and lowering yourself to look him in the eyes (which was hard since he was doing the exact opposite of what you were doing)

When his eyes finally dart to yours, he gains a hopeful expression. It was a cute site. His faint blush, slightly ajar mouth, while he looks up at you beneath the rim of his hat with that timid expression, it truly was a marvelous site. Little did Azul know, these expressions are exactly what make you keep pulling stunts like this.

• You quickly flip his hat down onto his face, and let out the lightest of laughs, thought it was at his expense, Azul found your laugh to be simply angelic and (begrudgingly) worth the embarrassment.

• It was a quick and easy solution, his last resort to save face, Azul invites you to a free dinner at the Mostro Lounge, with him as your guest, of course. And with your eager acceptance, he begins to plan the perfect date.

-------

“What are you laughing at? My face? You’re laughing at my face?! ... Oh. You meant my expression... Well, yes, yes, it was a funny joke, you don’t need to keep laughing so hard, please exert some effort to keep your dignity in tact. Though I’m not sure you have much left, let alone care about regaining or sustaining it...”

• Desperate to seem actually interested in the subject of the book currently in your hands, you walked and read at the same time. Which isn’t always the best idea, as it’s left you open to stumbling into walls and fellow students alike. But then you accidentally got invested in the reading material, and you found yourself reading it for real, flipping the pages at a rapid yet steady pace.

This is how you found yourself floundering about the empty yet claustrophobic walkways of the Mostro Lounge to your assigned table. When it hit you, literally, that you were so focused on your book that you neglected everything (and everyone) that was around you. You ran into just the eel you wanted to see.

• “Do keep your attention and guard up around these parts, it’s quite rude to ignore those in your presence, not to mention easy to slips things by you. Not that I’m suggesting any harm shall befall upon you, but it is best to be careful. Now, may I recommend reading over our menu, seeing as you’re quite the voracious reader.” He lightly chuckles at his little comment at the end.

• You honestly did not know how you missed the presence of Jade, what with his tall stature and somewhat menacing aura, and also the fact that you were reading this damned book just for him, so he really should be the person you’re most alert to right now, but that seems to not be the case.

• The leering grin on his face clues you in on the fact that he has definitely seen your reading material, and definitely expects you to make your move. That sadist.

• He’s curious as to what you’ll do. Will you deploy any tactics? Or will you stumble over yourself in an attempt to save face? Is that even a concern of yours?

He finds your reaction and next actions endearing anyways. Whether this was all a joke to fluster him (which he’ll never admit it, but it worked) or an honest attempt to study the culture of his species, or something else, he’s enraptured by your boldness.

-------

“I thank you for choosing to dine with us today. And trust me when I say that I’m not just spouting rhetorics, I truly am grateful to have seen you today. You and your antics... Please continue to show me such interesting things. In that regard, I am in your care”

• Floyd didn’t like boring things. This was a fact everyone knew. So to really capture his attention and catch his interest, you decided to (perhaps) step out of character and do something spontaneous. Something that’ll hopefully catch him off-guard and get a laugh out of him.

You already held his attention and affection, of course. But what’s wrong with a bit of harmless whimsy?

• Turns out a lot, actually. All you wanted to do was show off your book to him and maybe get a chuckle out of it, but Floyd thought of this as a passion-filled chase and promptly rose from his seat and sprinted full-speed at you. Which led to you boarding yourself inside of Ramshackle with the crazed eel-man banging on your front door. Grim was wailing upstairs, telling you he knew it was a bad idea, the ghosts were arming themselves with brooms and mops. It as a disaster.

• You half-expected your door to be bust down and for you to resign yourself to your fate of being squeezed to an inch of your life, until the deafening knocking on your door quieted down to nothing. But you knew he hadn’t left, and you knew it was a bit cruel to the boy to run away like you did. However, he truly seemed like a predator chasing his prey.

You took a deep breath in, and approached the door as you exhaled. Preparing for the violent hug of your closest friend. You closed your eyes as you turned the handle, and let out a gasp of air as you were tackled to the ground.

• “Shrimpy! You’re so mean, y’know that? Locking me out of your home when you started all of this!” The boy’s tackled hug had knocked the breath out of you, but he didn’t seem to mind your panting, as he rubs his cheek against yours and pets your head.

“You owe me something, don’t you think?” He turned serious all too suddenly, lifting his head to stare into your eyes with his mismatched own.

“How about a date!?” He cheerily proposes, his menacing air dissipating completely.

Why not, you decide. Spending time with Floyd was what you wanted all along.

“And, you can show me all the stuff you learned. Won’t that be fun? It better be good though, I don’t want anything lazy.” There’s the Floyd you know and love.

-------

“So about that date, I was thinking of taking you to the Coral Sea and dumping some swimming lessons on you! Doesn’t that sound fun? Hm, no? Well too bad, we’re doing it anyways! I won’t let you drown, don’t worry, but I can’t guarantee I won’t toy with you a bit. It’s only fair, you know? Accept your punishment~”

• The devotion you invest into your relationships is what made Malleus sure that you were the right one. The right one for what? Only time will tell, but he’s fine with anything. Your love, your disdain, your affection, he’ll gladly accept it all. So when you threw yourself into the study of his culture and home country, he felt honoured. And he knew that would understand how wonderful Briar Valley was. You just had to.

• So imagine his surprise when he catches you reading what he considers such a scandalous book. Were you, his child of man, truly interested in the courting methods of the fae?

• He’d spend many silent hours pondering on whether or not this interest was surface level, or if it delved deeper. Were you reading just to understand it from a clinical perspective? Or were you truly looking to take up a lover, and if so, who?

• Malleus hoped with all his heart that he was on your mind as you flipped through the pages, that it was his hands and fingers you envisioned when prompted with the thought of exchanging rings and vows, that it was his hair you would keep in a locket safe and secure around your neck. His body, mind, and soul belonged to you, and he knew it. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------

“Child of man, I see you are studying up on the courting methods between humans and faeries, are you not? I thought as much. Tell me, does your heart yearn for another when you read these passages? Does it ache with the passion of young love maturing? I wonder, do you feel what I feel?”

• Ohoho, has someone caught your eye, young prefect? For you to indulge yourself in reading something so improper, oh it must be someone special.

• Of course Lilia knows. He knows everything, apparently, and he knows you know that he knows. And he’s gonna give you the run-around.

It’s all “Oh, where did you pick up this book of yours?” this and Any particular reason that it caught your eye?” that. “Anyone on your mind lately, prefect? Don’t you worry, I won’t tell a soul, I promise.” He says as he throws in a wink at the end. You swear he’s not worth the trouble, but you know you’re lying to yourself in thinking that.

• Lilia now hovers around you more (literally), more than he ever has. He’ll pop in and strike up a conversation while you do the most mundane things. The old man can’t help but want to hog up all your free-time, and then some. How can he help himself? You’re just so cute in his eyes!

• I wouldn’t call him flustered per se, but he’s definitely moved by your gesture, now matter how comedic it started out as. The old bat often finds himself thinking of you, but now with the added details of a life spent together. Oh how he wishes to raise some children with you, he hopes you’ll accept that. He hopes that you’ll accept him, the real him, underneath his spontaneity and tailored youth.

-------

“Prefect! I see you still have your nose buried in that old book of yours. Say, how about instead of some light reading, we have some fun. just the two of us, some quality time for us both. We both know the importance of time and how we spend it, at least, I do, and if you accept my offer, I can teach you the importance of time as well. In fact! Why don’t I cook us both a traditional meal, hm? Surely that will bridge the gap between us!”

• “HUMAN! Just what do you think you’re reading?! Do you know the disrespect you are exhibiting towards the Young Master and fae kind right now by even holding that book?!” The usual volume of Sebek’s voice seemed like a whisper compared to the sheer screeching he was hurtling in your direction. The few students still lingering in the cafeteria turned towards the two of you, but quickly dismissed you both. You opted to put on a brave face, and turn your full attention towards the green-haired boy.

“Sebek! Just the man I wanted to see! Come, sit, sit!” You eagerly pat the empty seat next to you. Begrudgingly, Sebek takes a seat, posture stiff and rigid. But he seems to have a softer look to his countenance.

• “You know, Sebek, I may just be a lowly human compared to you, but I want to learn how to love you the way you want me to.” Your heartfelt confession surprised even you.

Sebek flinched at your words, though you didn’t mean them harshly, quite the opposite, actually. He cast his gaze downwards, folding his hands into his lap and thinking intently. Understanding that he needs to compose his thoughts to properly convey what he means to say, you let him take his time. Offering him a small smile.

• Suddenly, he shoots up from his seat at the table and extends his hand towards you, a determined look on his face.

“I see that I’ve been unnecessarily rude, and perhaps even offended you. Please let me rectify this oversight of mine!” The sparkle in his eyes is too endearing, you’d have accepted his apology regardless, but the genuine shine of regret and hope enchants you even more as you take his hand.

• It’s only when he starts to lead you out of the cafeteria do you snap out of it and wonder where you’re going. But you trust Sebek not to lead you astray.

-------

“Devote yourself fully to your studies, and it will bare fruit. Hmph! I see that this book is insufficient in teaching you all you wish to learn. Follow me! Where to you ask? To Diasomnia, of course! I’ll be teaching you myself all there is to know. Perhaps even Lilia can offer some assistance.. No! It must be me! Well, what are you waiting for? We start at once.”

• Che’nya was rarely ever on school campus grounds, except for Heartslabyul, and he never strayed too far from there when he did visit. The only hope you had of puling a trick on the cat boy was to attend every Unbirthday Party that you could. Even then, there wasn’t a guarantee he would show up. And if he did show up, there was no guarantee that he would show himself either. All in all, you were subject to embarrass yourself every Unbirthday Party until you got your desired results.

• Now, Che’nya isn’t as sadistic as Jade, or as playful as Lilia in the sense that he’s gonna drag this out for a long time. He’s gonna milk your reaction to his antics that are a response to your antics, but he’s happy to accept this small jest and he’ll take it in stride.

• Much like a cat he takes a seat in your lap, arms wrapped around your shoulders while he dangles his legs back and forth, flashing that cheshire grin of his at you.

“Nyeh, what’cha reading there? Is it something more important than me?” He makes a show of leaning into the open book in your hands, slowly moving his eyes along the pages while letting out a small hum. He finally snaps up straight and once again leans into the personal space of your face.

“Oh! It’s for me! Isn’t that precious!” He leers in a playful manner. Cuddling himself further into your half-hearted embrace. His tail knocks the book from your hands and onto the ground with a loud thud.

“Whoops! Nyahaha now you have to pay attention to me !” His tail flicks you on your nose and continues to hover there.

“Okay, Che’nya, you have my full attention.”

-------

“Don’t you think that book is a bit old-fashioned? I say just do what mew want, haha! There should be nothing to worry about if it’s true love. Nyah? That was out of character for me? You’ll see that I’m full of surprises~”

-------

I went ham on Leona’s part and then immediately fell short on everyone else.

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nburkhardt · 3 months

Text

Omegaverse but most importantly oblivious Dustin, enjoy!

Steve smells.

Not bad, just different and Dustin can’t figure out what it is that his best friend turned older brother has done differently recently.

Sure, the upside down hasn’t been around for a good while now and Steve moved out in an apartment with Robin and Eddie. The Byers moved back to Hawkins recently and everyone is finally together again.

It’s been good, really good.

But Steve’s scent has changed and Dustin’s stuck on it.

Which shouldn’t bother him but it is! Steve’s scent has always been his favorite, a perfect mix of cinnamon and maple, it fit perfectly with their ma’s scent of vanilla and nutmeg. (Their home smells like a bakery, it’s heaven. Especially with his own scent of chocolate and coffee) So he’s curious okay?!

The new scent is more woodsy and it does work well with Steve’s original scent.

There’s a snap of fingers and Dustin blinks a few times before seeing an amused Steve standing in front of him, “cool, you finally joining the conversation again?”

Dustin rolls his eyes, “I was listening”

“Yeah, sure, Henderson. ‘Cause that look you had was exactly like the one you had that led us trapped under the mall,” Steve raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms, “so mind sharing?”

Dustin shrugs, “Fine, I noticed your scent. It’s changed, but not bad it’s really nice actually. I was just trying to figure out why”

The rest of the room -Eddie, Robin and his Ma- grows quiet and Steve looks at him confused. And it makes him realize how weird that is to say out loud, actually. But it’s true regardless.

“Uh, huh.” Steve blinked at him before he looked over towards Eddie, “Dust, man, where’ve you been?”

“What?”

“My scent has been like this for four months, since my bonding? It’s really grown with my pregnancy too” Steve explained slowly as he made his way back to sit with Eddie, “You were in the room when we announced this, wasn’t he?”

That makes Dustin’s eyes widen as Eddie tilts his head at him confused before shrugging it off, “maybe he was in the bathroom?”

Dustin looks around shocked as his Ma looks just as confused as Steve, while Robin looks like she’s trying to hold in laughter. Making him even more confused, rubbing his eyes scrunching his face before looking back at Steve.

Steve who’s now practically in Eddie’s lap, Steve who is definitely pulling Eddie’s arms around him and fully relaxing against Eddie. Steve who looks the most content he’s ever looked sitting there with Eddie, letting out a happy purr and the scent of happy omega.

Everything clicks in his brain as Eddie’s scent starts to also pump out the smell he’s been smelling for months off of Steve. A woodsy apple like scent and now his brain is running a marathon to help him realize how oblivious he’s been.

Steve smells like Eddie, and now that he thinks about it, Eddie’s smelt different lately too and it never clicked that it was because They’re mates and -he was definitely in the room when it was announced- he just didn’t take in what was said, was too focused on something else at the time. Dustin feels like an idiot for not remembering his older brother is not only mated but also expecting.

“No- no I was,” He shakes his head, “I’m just oblivious”

Idk I just started writing and had no plan whatsoever other than thinking how funny a thing could start with just ‘Steve smells’ lol. Also I’ll admit it, I’m a little high rn.

Tags aren’t working for me rn sorry to those I’m supposed to tag 🥺

#henderfam #steve and dustin #steddie #dustin henderson #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #nburkhardt writes #mpreg #cw mpreg #stranger things #imma go with Dustin’s an omega in this too it’s just not stated #I hope you also realize that Claudia adopted Steve #bc it’s important to meee #and also Wayne wasn’t there bc he was working

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Soundtrack of Life

Plot: Y/n, Joel and Ellie journey to Bill and Frank’s house, where Joel and Y/n are forced into a conversation.

Word Count: 11.2k

Warnings: tlou ep.3 spoilers, language, guns, canon-typical violence, mention of killing (16+)

A/N: You guys blow this thing up more and more each week and I’m blown away each time. I see all your lovely comments, even if I don’t respond. A gentle reminder that this is a 16+ fic and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their name on their page. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Regarding this chapter, I did NOT intend forit to be this long. I honestly thought because the episode was all about Bill and Frank that it would be the shortest, but here we are. It contains one of my favorite scenes of the entire series, I’ll let you guess which one it os 😉

—————————

May 16th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Y/n considered herself a fairly confidant person. She kept her fear reserved for things like family emergencies, natural disasters…things out of her control.

Not first dates with men she’d known a week.

She was pacing her kitchen, heels clicking against the linoleum floor and her sundress swishing each time she looped around. Her hands wrung themselves against her abdomen. She had never felt so nervous about a date, not even in high school. She figured it was a warning sign of some type. Either she was making a huge mistake or a fantastic decision. She rested her head against one of the cabinets and prayed it was the latter…

Outside Y/n’s complex, Joel had just parked his truck. Dressed in a long sleeved plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, jeans and dress shoes, he felt constrained. Like his chest had expended three sizes and the shirt was no longer able to accommodate it. Or was he just hot? Hungry?

Joel tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shut his eyes. He was nervous.

It had been at least one, maybe two years since he’d been on a date. A neighbor’s daughter that Joel had felt obligated to go out with so that it would sate his street in their constant attempts at setting him up. It had been much longer since he’d voluntarily sought someone out. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself it wasn’t marriage. They were just going to dinner. If nothing happened, it wasn’t the end of the world…

Joel sighed, but he wanted something to happen…

He picked up the roses from the passenger seat, a nod to the night they’d met, pocketed his keys and stepped out of the truck. He felt dazed as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. 41B, Y/n had told him. When he reached the door, he hesitated to knock. Such a minuscule part of the night, but the mere act of coming to her door felt like the beginning of…everything.

Three raps broke Y/n from her panic party.

She’d put on an old record, hoping it would ease her nerves. It hadn’t done a thing. She stood up straight, drawing a deep and tried to force confidence through her body.

When Y/n opened the door, Joel lost any and all words he’d been thinking over in his head. She was dressed in a simple yellow flowered dress, but it was her wearing it that melted Joel. She looked like sunshine itself.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” Joel exhaled, “Sorry if I’m late.”

Y/n looked at the clock near the door, “Only a minute. I think I can excuse that.”

Joel huffed a nervous laugh. What came next?

“These are for you,” he stated, holding out the flowers.

Roses. Y/n was shocked that Joel had remembered the tiny detail of their night in the bar. Tommy’s nickname was going to stick so long as she stuck around the Millers, she had a feeling…

“They’re gorgeous,” she giggled, “You’ve got a good memory.”

Joel gave a half shrug, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans after.

Y/n felt like her brain had stopped processing for a split second. She jumped back to reality, “Come on in, I’ll go get these in some water.”

Joel followed her into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It was modest, minimally decorated but the walls had pictures strung all over them. He could already tell she was more sentimental than materialistic. The roses had been a good decision.

Y/n made her way to her kitchen, carefully balancing as she crouched down to dig through her cabinets for a vase. Flowers. He’d brought her flowers. What guy did that on a first date? Was that a Texas gentleman thing? She didn’t particularly care, it was one of the sweetest gestures someone had ever made towards her. And tying it back to the night they’d met made it that much sweeter.

“Nice place,” Joel called from the entry area. The apartment was open so if the front door was one end, the kitchen was stretched twenty feet away from it.

“It’s decent,” Y/n replied, filling the vase with water, “Moving was such a spur of the moment decision, I didn’t think I was going to find anything.”

Joel awkwardly balled his fists at his side, he didn’t want to walk too far and cross a line. It was only then that he realized there was music playing.

“Linda Ronstadt,” he blurted.

“Oh yeah,” Y/n smiled, heading over to turn off her record player, “You like her?”

“Love her,” Joel replied, good taste in music was another box ticked for him.

“Okay,” Y/n announced, more to encourage herself, and crossed the room, “All set.”

She grabbed her purse off the hook and Joel opened the door for her.

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked as she locked the door.

This was the part Joel was dreading most of all. “Yeah,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets, “There’s a place ‘bout ten minutes away called Tito’s. It’s, uh, it’s not the fanciest place but-“

Feeling a sudden, and most likely brief, wave of confidence wash over her, Y/n turned around and put her hand on Joel’s chest.

“Hey,” she smiled, “I don’t care about any of that. I work in a hardware store, I’m not expecting Seasons 52.”

Weight both lifted and slammed into Joel’s chest. If Y/n’s laugh could warm it, her touch could give it new life.

A corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “Okay.”

With an affirmative nod, Y/n allowed Joel to lead her down the stairs, open the car door for her and take her deep into the Friday night Austin scene…

—————————————

Tito’s had ended up being the perfect place.

There was very little a fancy restaurant could add to a date. Sure, the setting could be romantic, but that didn’t guarantee romance. At the end of the day, whether you went to the biggest hotel in the city or a fast food joint, it all boiled down to feeling that spark.

Joel and Y/n’s spark could have set fire to Austin.

“So wait,” Y/n tried to contain her laughter, they were seated out on the patio, “Tommy seriously nailed his pants…to the wall?”

Joel took a swig of his Budweiser and shrugged, “And tried to blame the nail gun.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted, “So no tequila the night before a job anymore, huh?”

Joel shook his head, pointing off into the distance, “And a mile down the road, he just shot straight up in bed because I told you that story.”

Another round of laughter. “Oh gosh,” Y/n sniffled, “Can’t imagine what you two were like as kids.”

“You have any brothers or sisters?” Joel asked, every time he asked her a question, he got to stare at her. It had made him more chatty than usual.

“Two,” Y/n answered, “Sister and a brother, both older.”

“Baby of the family,” Joel observed.

“Yes, and as the age-old tale goes,” Y/n scrunched her nose and smiled, “I’m the little lost bird. Brother’s an Ivy League english teacher who vacations in Europe every year. My sister’s married to a ridiculously successful doctor and just had a baby.”

Joel listened carefully, coming up confused. “I’m not following,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “What about that makes you lost?”

“They’re both very settled,” Y/n answered, swirling her beer, “They both knew exactly what they wanted in life and they went for it. One of the whole reasons I moved to Austin was to try and find that…thing, you know?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” he decided to lighten the mood, “And the hardware store’s it, huh?”

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes, “No, the hardware store’s not it. But it makes me happy.”

“That’s a step in the right direction, then,” Joel commented, never taking his eyes off of her.

Y/n could have sat there for the rest of the night just enjoying the warmth of his stare. “So,” she shook herself out of the daze, “What about you? Is construction your thing?”

Joel laughed under his breath, “Pays the bills. Wasn’t originally what I saw myself doin’, but it’s work.”

“What did you want to do?” Y/n asked.

“Music,” Joel answered, “Guitar.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “You play?”

“I used to,” Joel said, knowing the question that would come after. That was the true test…”Still do sometimes, just for myself.”

“What made you stop?”

Joel sighed, staring down at the condensation that his beer had formed on the table. Either he was about to bring the night to a grinding halt or…well, he hadn’t seen the second option yet. From anyone.

“I met someone,” he started, “We had a kid. She ran out on me pretty soon after. Not a lot of time left over to go around playin’ gigs.”

The chatter around them seemed to fade as Y/n took in the reality of Joel’s answer. He was a single father, and had been for a while, it seemed. All of him made complete sense suddenly. The constant worry lines on his face, the responsibility, the work ethic…

“Boy or a girl?” Y/n took a chance and asked.

“Girl,” Joel answered, a small smile coming to his face, “She’s about to turn thirteen.”

Y/n continued, “What’s her name?”

Joel was surprised, more than surprised, that Y/n wasn’t running the other way. There weren’t a lot of women who willingly took on single dads. Here she was wanting to learn about his little family.

“Sarah.”

Y/n nodded, letting the information rest on the table. “Sarah,” she echoed, “What’s she like?”

“She’s…” Joel let out a laugh under his breath, “She’s incredible. Gets straight A’s, plays soccer, got room in her heart for just about everyone she meets…”

Y/n listened enthusiastically as Joel told stories about his stories as a single dad. How Tommy was helping to raise Sarah, how the three of them were extremely tight knit, how he wished his long hours didn’t interfere with getting to spend time with her…not even for a second did she think about leaving.

“You love her so much,” Y/n blurted before she could think it through. She just had to say it.

Joel smiled warmly over his beer bottle, “She’s my world.”

It was a moment so tender, it almost broke your heart. Joel was letting Y/n closer than anyone else had gotten…ever. And she wasn’t pulling away, she was digging in.

Inside the restaurant, there was soft music playing over a dance floor. Joel and Y/n had eyed it all evening, wondering if their night would inevitably end up there. From outside on the patio, they could hear the song change to one they both knew.

“I love this song,” Y/n said in passing.

Joel had been waiting all night for his nerves to calm or for the perfect song to transcend pass the anxiety. This was as good as it was going to get.

“You wanna dance?”

Y/n’s smile spread across her face, “Yeah.”

Joel stood and held out his hand for Y/n to take, their palms tingling at the touch. He kept a loose hold on it as he led her into the building, snaking through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Their were couples packed wall to wall, but they were able to find a pocket of space just for them.

Y/n’s heart did double time as she rested her hand on Joel’s broad shoulder. Joel pulled her towards him, connecting their hands and holding them up. They hadn’t yet been this close and it felt as intoxicating as they thought it might.

Joel’s hand rested on the higher part of Y/n’s hip. He exhaled shakily, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Slowly, they began to sway to the soft guitar.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you….

It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do….

They moved as one, Y/n’s gaze resting over Joel’s shoulder because she knew if she looked in his eyes, she’d be overwhelmed.

Joel’s desires were doing battle with his self-control. He wanted to wrap himself around her entirely, leaving no space between their bodies. He would, of course, leave it up to her. She got to decide where the night went.

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…

Their chests brushed against each other, sending a thrill through their bodies. The second it started to fade, Y/n chased it, inching closer to Joel till their torsos aligned.

Joel’s head instinctively turned towards her just as she looked up. Y/n’s nose grazed his cheek, his beard delightfully scraping her skin. If they had intended to make eye contact, they never made it there. With Joel’s breath fanning her face and the scent of his cologne enveloping her, Y/n didn’t dare move and disturb the perfection.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Feeling confidant that she wouldn’t pull away, Joel’s arm slid around Y/n’s waist, his hand resting across her lower back. Y/n’s skin felt inflamed, like the building’s walls had fallen and the heat of the night was swallowing her whole. Her cheek fell against Joel’s closing the very last bit of space that laid between them.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

With you…

That was it, it was a done deal. There was nothing left for them to do but let themselves fall. Their hearts hammered in time with one another, their respective anxiety intertwining at the base of their souls and transfiguring. Instead of a storm, raging, crashing, knocking them over, it became a wave, powerful and passionate. Drawing strength from each other, they allowed the full force of their feelings to flood them.

When the night was over, Joel drove Y/n back to her apartment. They’d chatted on the drive over, but the dance had left them both stunned. Where was there to go from there? What were they supposed to say when a whole conversation had been had in each other’s arms?

They walked up the stairs, coming to Y/n’s door and nervously pausing.

“I had a great time,” Y/n said, fiddling with her keys in one hand.

“Me too,” Joel smiled, broader than his usual thin lipped smirk.

The space between them grew tense. Who was supposed to ask who out for a second date? Were they supposed to kiss? What was-

“So…” Joel set aside all his excessive thoughts, “Did I earn a shot at a second date?”

A laugh rippled through Y/n’s body, thankful that he’d been the one to bring it up. Drawing from Joel’s confidence, she closed the space between them and placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“I think your chances are pretty good,” she softly told him.

Joel’s heart throbbed at both Y/n’s touch and her words. His hand found its way to her waist, not wanting to let the closeness go just yet. They only needed to move a few inches, just a few measly inches and then they’d have it all.

Joel’s breath fanned Y/n’s lips as they allowed themselves to be drawn into one another. The delicious space, hanging on the edge of desire and satisfaction, was enough for them. That was how they knew there was something different to what they felt. Just to be close was enough.

“Maybe we should wait,” Y/n whispered in their shared space, pressing her fingers into Joel’s shoulder a little, “Wouldn’t want to rush anything.”

The tip of Joel’s nose rubbed hers, admitting a defeat that didn’t feel like one. “Wouldn’t want you to think you can take advantage of me or somethin’,” Joel smirked, “I have my reputation to think of.”

Y/n’s laugh mingled with Joel’s, her skin tingling as he brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

“I’ll call you,” Joel assured.

“I hope so,” Y/n smiled before daring to press her lips to his cheek, “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight,” Joel choked out, the touch of her kiss paralyzing him.

She unlocked her front door and headed in, Joel stood on the welcome mat until the lock clicked. Alone in the concrete hall, he boyishly kicked his foot and grinned.

Y/n rested her forehead against the front door, shaking her head and grinning.

Joel got down to his truck, started it up and fell back in his seat.

Y/n laughed against the door, playing the night back in her head.

Joel smiled and slapped the steering wheel.

They felt weightless.

—————————

2023. Outside Boston.

Grief hung like a storm cloud over the group.

Y/n had left Joel and Ellie to make a lavatory out of nature, and was walking back. They’d camped overnight in a forest, a few miles outside of Boston. Joel had instructed they were leaving as soon as the sun came up.

When she got back to their camp, she found Ellie sitting up against her tree near the creek, Joel’s jacket draped over her legs.

“He’s still not back?” Y/n asked.

“Nope,” Ellie popped her lips.

Y/n rolled her eyes, if Joel was going to boss them around, he needed to comply with his own demands. She set off into the forest, going the same way he had.

The sound of the larger creek welcomed her. She scanned the area, looking for Joel’s tall frame and finding nothing. She slapped her hands against her legs in a shrug, if anything had happened to him, they’d be dead too. Where was-

The scrape of stones caught her ear.

Y/n gazed down to see Joel, hunched over on the river’s bed of rocks. With a fair bit of distance between them, Y/n could see him stacking stones. He was building a cairn.

He was building Tess a grave.

Y/n’s feelings contradicted themselves. Joel’s loss of the woman he cared for felt karmic, in a way, and yet the sight of him, so broken and empty, reminded her that bitterness had no place commingling with loss.

She didn’t disturb his memorial, she simply leaned against a nearby tree. Tess’ last wish hadn’t been selfish, she had begged for protection for Joel. They were, perhaps, the most heartbreaking final words Y/n had ever heard. She’d promised Tess, what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Tess die in a horrific sacrifice thinking that Joel would meet her soon after.

Y/n sighed, letting her head hit the tree. The day was already exhausting her.

She decided to let Joel have a few extra minutes, walking back to their campsite. Ellie was in the exact same position as when she left. All of this trauma was being rehashed for one girl, but Y/n still believed she was worth it.

Footsteps behind her signaled that Joel was back from his solitary service. He didn’t look in either Y/n or Ellie’s direction, only trudging to his backpack and squatting beside it. It had been a near silent walk from Boston, Ellie asking Y/n an occasional question or Joel giving directions. They were all avoiding each other for different reasons.

Joel blamed Ellie.

Y/n blamed Joel.

And Ellie blamed no one, but could sense tension when she saw it.

“You want your jacket back?” Ellie asked Joel, testing the waters.

Joel continued digging through his backpack, responding with a small shake of the head. He still refused to look at her. The only gesture he made was after digging out and taking a bite of food, he threw the remainders to Ellie.

“I’ve never been in the woods,” the girl continued talking, “More bugs than I thought.”

Y/n leaned up against a tree, waiting and watching how the interaction played out.

“Look, I’ve been thinking about-“ Ellie started.

Joel rose to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.”

Ellie sat forward, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

Joel’s eyes scanned Ellie before looking to Y/n, who simply raised an eyebrow at him. She was in total agreement. And the truth was, Joel didn’t have a reason to put any of what happened on Ellie. But he wanted someone to be angry with, someone to fling his grief at so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it any longer.

The rational side of him won out. He gave Ellie a small nod, mentally collected himself and picked up his rifle. It was time to hit the road.

Ellie got up and handed Joel his jacket, “How much longer?”

“Five-hour hike,” he answered.

Y/n collected her backpack, tied her jacket around her waist and came to stand with Ellie.

“We can manage that,” the girl shrugged, she was the most confidant out of all three of them.

Joel glanced over at Y/n again, the two of them communicating their indifference wordlessly, before turning on his heel.

Y/n put a hand on Ellie’s head and waited for Joel to be out of earshot, “Attagirl.”

Ellie smiled up at the woman and they fell in step a few feet behind their guide.

Joel got them out of the woods and onto a dirt path, leading their party silently and expecting the same in return. Y/n was perfectly content not to utter a word, but Joel was quickly learning something she already knew; Ellie didn’t do “quiet.”

“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?”

“Not often, no,” Joel answered.

“What are you looking out for?” Ellie asked.

“People.”

“Oh,” she rested a beat, “Are Bill and Frank nice?”

“Frank is.”

Y/n stepped forward to walk alongside them, keeping to Ellie’s side. “You haven’t told us anything about them,” she spoke up.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Joel answered.

“I’m entrusting two strangers with our lives,” Y/n scoffed, “There’s a lot to tell.”

“They’re good,” Joel said with finality to his tone.

“Oh, well…” Y/n mumbled under her breath, she was over the whole What-I-Say-Goes front.

Ellie was undeterred by their bickering. “How’d you get that scar on your head?”

Joel sighed, already exasperated and it was barely morning.

“What? Is it something lame?” Ellie inquired excitedly, “Like, you fell down the stairs or something?”

“I didn’t fall down any stairs,” Joel answered.

“Okay, so what then?”

Joel paused before speaking, “Someone shot at me and missed.”

Y/n hated the jolt of concern that shot through her chest. Old habits and all that.

“See, that’s cool,” Ellie insisted, “You shoot back?”

“Yeah,” Joel said.

“You get him?”

“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.”

Ellie thought it over, “‘Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?”

Joel glanced at her, vaguely insulted, “In general.”

Ellie fell back a step to get a look at Y/n. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Y/n echoed.

“How’d you get this scar?” Ellie poked the white mark on her bare shoulder. She didn’t feel comfortable touching Joel, but she was comfortable with Y/n.

By now, Y/n had scars littered all across her body. Ellie could have pointed to almost any one of them and she would have had to think about where it came from. But the one in the rivet nestled between her scapula and her clavicle was one she could never forget.

“A bullet ricocheted off a wall,” she answered, “Hit me instead.”

“That’s slightly less cool than his,” Ellie commented.

Joel caught himself before he hung back a step to get a look at the mark. It was instinct to worry about her.

“You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us,” Ellie began, “I was thinking I should prob-“

“No,” Joel cut her off, already knowing what she was after.

“Yeah, well, Y/n might feel different,” Ellie said, looking to her only ally.

“She doesn’t,” Y/n answered, smirking slightly at her blind enthusiasm.

They walked a few more feet before coming up on a once-white building.

“Cumberland Farms,” Ellie read the sign.

“Hang back a minute,” Joel instructed them both, though he knew it was useless, “I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”

“Stashed?” Ellie questioned as she followed, “Why do you have stuff stashed here?”

“You ask a lot of damn questions,” Joel complained.

“Yes,” Ellie smiled, owning every bit of her personality, “I do.”

Joel forced open the door to the old storefront and they entered. It looked just about the same as how he and Tess had left it a few years back.

“So are you gonna answer me or what?” Ellie continued.

Joel relented, “We hide supplies on routes, in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am ‘cause-“

“No way,” Ellie zipped over to the other side of the room, honing in on an old arcade game.

Joel ignored her, Y/n simply smiled to herself.

“You ever play this one?” Ellie asked without really seeking an answer, “Oh, I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena, who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth-“

While Ellie continued chattering, Joel was pacing the floor, trying to remember where his hiding place had been. Y/n crossed her arms and watched amusedly.

“You forgot where you put your stuff,” Ellie stated.

Joel was quick to defend himself, “No, I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.”

Ellie and Y/n peered over at one another, sharing a knowing smirk.

“Go see if you can find anything in back,” Y/n instructed, Ellie would have gone even without the prompting, “Practical.”

“Trust me, it’s all been picked over already,” Joel grunted, shaking a wall display.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ellie replied in a sing-song tone, “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel called out.

“Ah,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “Getting funnier…”

Y/n set down her backpack, deciding to help speed up the process so they could get back on the road. She walked over to a section of floor that Joel hadn’t searched yet and started kicking around.

“I don’t need help,” Joel muttered.

“If we leave it to you and your shitty memory,” Y/n strained as she shoved a shelving unit with her shoulder, “We’ll be here till dark.”

Joel didn’t want to get drawn into an argument, he also couldn’t resist the person starting it. “My memory’s fine.”

“Oh, really?” Y/n waved a hand across the floor, “Point to the treasure.”

Joel’s lips thinned in frustration, mostly with himself for not being able to find the stash before she latched onto it.

“It’s somewhere on this aisle,” he begrudgingly told her.

“This aisle,” she repeated, the two of them going in opposite directions.

After a minute or two, there was a sound from the back room. “You all right back there?” Joel called.

“Yep!” Ellie replied.

“How likely is it that she’s doing something she shouldn’t be?” Joel asked Y/n, who had weeks more experience curbing Ellie.

Y/n jumped in place on a loose piece of the floor, “100%.”

Joel exhaled and continued searching, eventually feeling a slight raise in one of the tiles. He kicked a few old newspapers aside to discover his hiding spot. And better yet, he’d found it before Y/n did, taking away the opportunity for gloating.

He knelt down and flipped open his pocketknife, cutting open the cover and removing it.

Y/n stopped her hunt and came to crouch down next to him, visually sifting through the supplies. There wasn’t much.

It went against Joel’s natural programming to not be concerned when the back room went silent. Ellie had been gone long enough to have picked through everything at least twice. “Ellie?”

No response.

Now Y/n was on edge as well, rising with Joel. She raised her voice a little louder than him, “Ellie?”

They both unholstered their guns, walking in rhythm together towards the back room. Joel stuck a hand out to form a barrier between whatever unknown threat might have been lurking and Y/n. She annoyedly shoved it away and aimed her gun at the doorway.

They unclenched when Ellie walked out, touting a box of tampons. “Picked over, my ass,” she commented.

Y/n and Joel returned to the stash, Joel unloading his assault rifle and Y/n picking through a tin of first aid supplies.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked Joel.

“There’s not much ammo out there for this thing,” he replied, bringing the lid back down over the supplies, “Makes it mostly useless.”

Ellie saw an opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…”

Joel stood to his feet and made direct eye contact, “No.”

Y/n stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulder and lightly pushed Ellie ahead of her. Tess was no longer there to keep occupy Joel and she wanted to put as much space between the two of them as possible.

They were on the dirt road for another hour or two, time didn’t seem to matter in the middle of nowhere. Ellie barely complained, content to take in all that nature had left to offer. At some point, Y/n and Joel had fallen in step with one another. Even sworn enemies would have cracked under pressure and started hurling insults at one another. Their ability to stay silent with one another was unmatched.

“So,” Ellie eventually killed the quiet, “Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Y/n replied.

“Why you two broke up.”

Joel scrunched his eyes shut, the darkness of his lids a more preferable place to be.

Y/n took the hit and answered, “We never said we dated.”

“You didn’t have to. You knew each other in Texas but you don’t talk,” Ellie began to list off her reasons, “And when you do talk, it’s only to fight.”

“Friends fight too,” Y/n suggested.

Ellie scoffed, “Not like you two.”

There was passion that bled through Joel and Y/n’s arguments that was only born from love. It was one thing they’d never be able to change.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Ellie continued, “I’ll just know that I’m right.”

Joel stopped short, putting a hand up to Ellie and trying to stay calm. “You do not need to say every fuckin’ thing that pops into your head,” he said, driving certain syllables harder than others.

Ellie was unfazed by him, turning her gaze to Y/n. “Was he always this grumpy?”

Y/n sighed, her time in Austin was a piece of her past she didn’t want anyone having. The obviousness of her and Joel’s fractured connection bothered her, it made it that much harder to sever it entirely. She picked up the pace again, getting ahead of Joel and Ellie.

Joel’s eyes followed her, something inside of him twinging against his will. He spared a glance at Ellie and continued on the path.

“Yeah,” Ellie smiled to herself, “They dated.”

They walked a little further before Ellie got distracted by something in a field. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed.

Up on a hilltop lay the rusted remains of a plane crash. The three of them stopped, it was getting harder for Joel and Y/n to remember a world where things like airplanes had existed.

“You fly in one of those?” Ellie asked,

“A few times, sure,” Joel answered.

“Yeah,” Y/n said.

Ellie’s excited eyes scanned the wreck, “So lucky.”

“Didn’t feel like it at the time,” Joel recalled, “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay twelve bucks for a sandwich…”

“Or hit turbulence,” Y/n remembered.

“You got to go up in the sky,” Ellie stated, her voice filled with wonder. Another simple pleasure stolen from her…

Joel had always been more of a realist than Y/n, who wanted Ellie to hold on to whatever pieces of happiness she could. “Yeah, well, so did they,” he added, killing the levity of the moment.

“Grim…” Ellie commented as they continued walking. “So everything came crashing down in one day?”

“Pretty much,” Joel answered, giving Y/n space to interject. She’d gone silent again.

“How?” Ellie asked, “I mean, no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

Y/n almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Almost.

“It wasn’t a monkey,” Joel answered, “I thought you went to school.”

“FEDRA school,” Ellie replied quickly, “They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to know how her world was destroyed before she’d even gotten there.

“No one knows for sure, but, best guess,” he began, “Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, all across the world. Bread, cereal…”

Joel and Y/n didn’t have to look at one another to know they were having the same thought.

“Pancake mix,” Joel continued, “You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thrusday night or Friday morning. Day goes on…they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse,” Joel paused, a flash of blood coming to his mind, “Then they started bitin’.”

Y/n shut her eyes, as if it was all playing out in front of her again.

“Friday night,” Joel was able to push out, “September 26th, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”

Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or stay quiet. Her entire world had come crashing down in a span of 72 hours.

“It makes more sense than monkeys,” Ellie said, then looked at Joel, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he replied. Joel still wasn’t sure what to do with her, but he was trying. He only had to try for a few more hours, anyway.

Y/n kept her eyes down as she walked, only stopping when Ellie and Joel fell out of step. Joel had his arm stretched over Ellie’s chest to keep her in place.

“What now?” Y/n asked, nearing her breaking point with patience.

“We’ll cut across the woods here,” Joel directed.

“Isn’t the road easier?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, it’s just,” Joel took a breath, looking ahead to Y/n, “There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”

Y/n chortled, she couldn’t take any more of his mood swings. One minute he didn’t care, the next he was watching out for their sensitive eyes?

“Well, now I have to see,” Ellie sang, walking ahead to join Y/n.

“I don’t want you to,” Joel pushed.

“Newsflash, Joel,” Y/n announced, “It’s the fucking apocalypse. We’ve all seen things we don’t want to see.”

Joel paced after them, chasing Ellie more than his ex, “I’m not kidding. Ellie!”

“Can it hurt us?” Ellie asked as Y/n fell behind her.

“No,” Joel answered truthfully.

She spun around to face him as she strolled, “You’re too honest, man, Should’ve said axe murderer.”

While Ellie walked ahead, Joel sped up to match Y/n’s pace. “I’m serious, she shouldn’t see it.”

“You know what,” Y/n didn’t break stride, “I’m sure our delicate little sensibilities can handle whatever it is.”

Anger is intoxicating, but it can also be all-encompassing. It can numb all other senses, blinding all other emotions until the red is staining every part of someone’s perspective. Y/n’s rage with Joel was deceiving her into thinking everything that came out of his mouth was either an insult or an overreaction. Joel knew that the second she found what he was trying to shield her and Ellie from, she’d regret it instantly. But it was futile to fight her.

“Uh, whatever it was,” Ellie called from the front of the group, “Think it’s gone.”

Y/n felt sure of herself as she trudged on, until the details of Ellie’s expression came into view and she followed the girl’s eyes. There in a ditch, lay skeletal remains. If you reconstructed them, they probably made up about a dozen people.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…” Joel started to explain to Ellie, “Went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were…if there was room…if there wasn’t…”

“These people weren’t sick?” Ellie inquired.

“No,” Joel replied, “Probably not.”

“Why kill them?” Ellie continued, “Why not just leave ‘em be?”

“It was their fucked up way of trying to contain the infection,” Y/n spoke up, trying to hide her trembling breath. It wasn’t the first open grave she’d seen, this was one of the easier ones to stomach. This was all bones.

Y/n turned on her heel, eager to get as far away from the hellish memories as she could.

————————————

Eventually, they made it to where Joel told them Bill and Frank lived. It was a small chunk of a town completely gated by a tall fence.

“Stay here,” Joel instructed Y/n and Ellie before punching in the entry code on the gate’s keypad. He let them go through first, it was the only place safe enough to do so.

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was the first time she’d seen an actual town in…she’d lost count of the years. The white picket fences, the boutique shops, the houses. Actual houses. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, it reminded her so much of Austin.

The three of them walked to Bill and Frank’s house, the nicest looking one on the block. Joel took notice, however, that the flowers decorating the front porch were dead. Scorched by the sun. Bill would never let that happen.

He opened the front door, taking cautious steps into the entryway. Y/n and Ellie followed close behind.

“What the fuck,” Ellie elongated, it was probably her first time inside an actual house.

“Bill?” Joel called out. No answer. “Frank?” Nothing.

Shit.

“You stay there,” Joel directed Ellie, not looking Y/n’s way since she was going to do what she wanted anyway, “Ya hear anything, you see anything…yell.”

Joel and Y/n didn’t make it more than one step before Ellie spoke up, “What if they’re gone?”

No. Joel couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to grieve over one more person.

Y/n set off down the hallway, keeping her pistol drawn at her side. Joel had gone through the kitchen, but the two rooms were connected. They made it to the bedroom door at the same time, Joel knocking and jiggling the knob. Nothing.

“Would they leave?” Y/n asked.

“No,” Joel shook his head.

The back porch door shutting got their attention.

“Ellie?” Y/n called, getting nothing in return. She set off back to the dining room where they’d left her, Joel just a step behind.

She was sitting at the table holding a piece of paper. Her expression was undeterminable, like she was between emotions and deciding which one to land on.

“It’s from Bill,” she finally told them.

Y/n sighed, holstering her gun, taking off her backpack and settling into a chair between Joel and Ellie. Joel put away his weapon too, neither of them needed to pretend there was any hope.

Ellie scanned the envelope the letter had come from, “‘To whomever…but probably Joel,’” she tossed it back onto the table, “I figured I fell under “whomever.” It came with this.”

She slid a single car key across the table.

Joel shrugged his backpack off next to Y/n’s, but wouldn’t sit. “So they’re dead?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed.

Joel turned away, the very little emotion he let himself feel coming to the surface.

“You-you wanna?” Ellie offered.

He shook his head, “Go ahead. You do it.”

Y/n leaned against her knees, holding her hands to her lips, bracing herself.

“August 29th, 2023,” Ellie began to read, “If you find this…please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe-“

Ellie looked up in confusion, Y/n gave a small nod for her to continue.

“Take anything you need,” she kept going, “The bunker code is the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost…And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do, and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep-“

Ellie sucked her bottom lip, not knowing how to proceed. None of them had to ask what the next two words were.

Joel stepped forward robotically and took the letter, reading the rest over silently. Tess’ name struck a blow to his body, he wanted to curl in on himself.

“Stay here,” he mumbled, striding towards the front door with barely contained hurry.

Y/n shut her eyes, keeping her hands in a praying position. It was the first time in twenty years she couldn’t tap into the anger that lived inside her. She felt pure sorrow that Joel had to lose someone else he loved, regardless of whether he’d ever admit to loving Tess.

Outside, Joel took deep breaths that at one time would have been described as cleansing. But he felt no better when he inhaled than he had before. Bill’s letter weren’t just his last wishes, it was a call to action. He couldn’t have known the situation Joel was in when he wrote it, but he supernaturally addressed every part of it. He lifted up a silent apology to Tess, for not being able to save her.

Joel crumpled the letter in his palms and let it drop to the grass. He held up the key Bill had left him, forcing himself to move to the garage doors and open them.

Y/n and Ellie sat up straighter upon hearing the noise. “Stay here,” Y/n echoed Joel, rising up and heading out to see what he was doing.

She walked around to the open garage doors to see Joel hunched over the front of a truck. The hood was open and he was investigating its internal organs. Y/n had barely caught a glance at the empty spot where the battery should have been before Joel slammed it shut. There went that happy thought…

Joel’s eye caught the refrigerator nearby, a couple cans of oil and other auto supplies sitting on top of it. Bill had been a survivalist, it was his nature to prepare for every possible outcome. He crossed the space and opened the fridge, spotting the materials needed to construct a car battery from scratch

He smirked, maybe they had been friends…

Y/n joined him at the door, she was no mechanic but the men throughout her life, Joel and Tommy included, had taught her enough about car repair to know they were battery parts. A spark of hope lit inside her.

It dwindled in both her and Joel when the reality of what it meant hit them.

Y/n suddenly felt too close to him, she moved away and crossed her arms, going to stand on the furthest side of the truck. Joel didn’t move until she stopped, coming to stand on the other side of the vehicle. They wanted a proper barricade between them.

Y/n had made a promise to Tess that she would protect both Ellie and Joel. In the moment, it had seemed like the only honorable thing to do. Now, staring down the task itself, she wanted to admit her selfishness and run. Run back to the QZ, back to the Fireflies, back to the only semblance of safety she had. And with every turn she made in her mind, Ellie was waiting for her. Ellie was at the center of this all. She was the job. Everything else came second.

“If we do this,” Y/n started, her words slowly and cautiously calculated, “You are going to have to start treating me like an equal. I am not some delicate flower that you need to protect and I’m not some child in need of protection. We’ve already got one of those. I live in the same world you do. I didn’t hesitate to kill that Clicker,” she pointed behind them as if the monster’s carcass was present, “And I won’t hesitate going forward.”

Joel looked up at her out his eyebrows, “Can you blame me, last time I knew you?”

“We don’t need to keep bringing us up,” Y/n shook her head, a joyless smile on her face, “We are completely different people. Matter of fact, think of us as strangers. We only know each other from this point forward.”

Joel thought it over a second, accepting the truth of it. “Okay,” he said, “But you have to trust me that I know the best way to get to Wyoming-“

“I don’t trust you,” Y/n retorted.

“I don’t trust you either,” he echoed, bitterness rising to both their surfaces.

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, if this was going to work, they needed to put away all of their past. Not just the good parts.

“We have to put this on ice,” she said, “What matters…is her. That is all that matters. Not us, not what happened…her.”

Joel’s thumb twitched against the hood of the truck. There were many questions he’d been wanting to ask Y/n, but there was one that was non-negotiable if he was going to take on this task with her

“Do you actually believe that she’s the answer to this?”

Y/n’s face softened, only slightly, but enough for Joel to see the gleam hope in her eyes. “I do,” she replied, earnestly.

Joel breathed a heavy sigh, looking down at the truck. He glanced back up at Y/n, scanning her up and down as if to take full stock of the woman she was now. “Okay.”

Y/n nodded, her body alight with apprehension. “Okay.”

A ceasefire had been called.

“I’ll start on the battery,” Joel announced, eager to get away from the conversation as quick as he could, “Can you do a once over on this thing?”

“Yeah,” she answered, forcing past the hurdle that was doing something Joel asked of her.

They worked in silence, Y/n checking that the car was in working condition and Joel constructing their battery. It was the first time they’d been able to tolerate each other’s presence in the last two days.

After a half hour, when Y/n was long past done, Joel stepped back and examined his work. “It’s gotta charge for a while,” he announced, “But it’ll work.”

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, glancing over at him before heading back out the garage. Joel was close behind.

They came back into the house, finding Ellie waiting for them at the table still.

“Show me your arm,” Joel ordered, he needed to be 100% certain that she was safe to transport.

Ellie stood and rolled up her sleeve, the second bite still had blood caked around it, but it was clearly healing. They had no reason to doubt it would continue that way.

“I just finished makin’ a truck battery,” Joel said, “It’s charging right now.”

“Okay,” Ellie replied, her face showing a hint of hope.

“And I have a brother in Wyoming,” Joel continued, “He’s in some kinda trouble, and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. And my guess is he knows where some of ‘em are out there. Maybe they can get you two to wherever this lab is.”

Ellie’s eyes bounced between Y/n and Joel, “All right. Uh,” she began to fiddle with her hand, “Listen, about Tess-“

Joel held up a hand, he took a second to collect himself before speaking. “If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves.”

Y/n made a mental note of where Joel was emotionally.

“Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your…condition,” Joel focused his eyes on Ellie, trying to drive the point home, “They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three,” he pointed between him and Y/n, “You do what we say, when we say it. We clear?”

“Yes,” Ellie answered.

“Repeat it,” Joel demanded.

Ellie took a breath, “What you say goes,” she looked between the two adults once more, “Are you two gonna be able to get along?”

Joel glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, who was leaned up against the door frame. She had her hands tucked behind her as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. They communicated their truce with their eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Y/n said to Ellie, maybe saying it would make it so…

Joel sighed, it felt like he was signing on a metaphorical dotted line. “Okay,” he finally said.

The three of them stood in the dining room, all with their own separate reservations but with no choice in the matter. They needed each other, even if no one dared to admit it.

“So what now?” Ellie broke the silence.

“We grab what we can,” Joel responded, “Let’s check the bunker first.”

He brushed past Y/n, who followed with Ellie in tow, and located the hidden entrance to Bill’s bunker. Joel climbed down the ladder first into the pitch black room. Flipping on the lights revealed walls of canned goods, guns, supplies, various tools and first aid kits. In the middle lay a desk setup with a laptop playing music and monitor screens showing footage of outside the house.

“Ho-ly shit,” Ellie said for both her and Y/n, “This guy was a genius.”

“Little bit,” Y/n added, scanning the walls, “Back then, everyone called people like him crazy. I’m guessing he was okay with it.”

Joel went to work at the computer, switching off the song.

“Why was the music on?” Ellie asked.

“If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks,” Joel explained, “This playlist would run over the radio.”

Ellie glanced over the screen, assured now of her theory from the day before about Joel’s radio codes. “‘80s.”

Joel didn’t really care anymore, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.”

Ellie wasn’t so easily distracted, she was still gazing at the guns. “Dude,” she started to draft another pitch.

“No,” he replied without even looking up at her.

“There’s a whole wall of them,” she declared, as if that made a difference.

Joel shot her a glare, signaling there was no discussion to be had. Searching Y/n out again and receiving a frown in response, Ellie backed off and went to collect the canned goods.

Y/n traced her fingers across the wall of guns. She doubted her pistol was going to get them very far. It had taken an assault rifle and an axe just to kill the Clicker that had attacked them.

She loathed to ask Joel for help, but she was good at shooting, not specs. “Which one takes the most basic ammo?”

Joel peered up from the monitor screens, the sight of her standing amongst so many weapons was still a little shocking. “That beige and black one,” he nodded in her direction, “Standard shotgun.”

Y/n nodded once in awkward thanks and removed the gun from the wall, testing the weight and feel of it. She crossed the room to one of Bill’s work tables and took a box of bullets, stuffing it in her jacket pocket.

“I’m gonna start upstairs,” she announced, strapping the shotgun over her back and climbing up the ladder.

The three of them worked around the house, collecting any and all supplies they could possibly need. Ellie found toilet paper, Y/n found some unopened dry goods, Joel found clothes for them. It was strange to think that once upon a time, desires had felt like essentials. A new TV, concert tickets, expensive wine…Y/n felt like she was seeing heaven when Joel pulled out a box of women’s t-shirts.

Joel monitored the battery closely, it wasn’t charging as fast as he wanted it to. “Needs another hour,” he told them.

“They have hot water!” Ellie exclaimed, soaking her hand under the garage’s running faucet, “I’m takin’ a shower. And then you’re showering, because seriously,” she turned to Joel and scowled as he headed back to the house.

Joel stopped what he was doing, unsure of how to respond. “I smell that bad?”

Y/n was sorting through some shelves, collecting a few tools they could take with them for the truck. “I’m not even answering that,” she replied.

Joel took what he could from her answer. “You take the next one,” he offered, trying to put his money where he mouth was and bench their grudge.

“Should I be offended?” Y/n fired back, raising one eyebrow. “Thank you,” she finally said.

Joel gave a nod in reply before getting back to work.

Y/n eventually headed inside to wait for Ellie to be done. The girl emerged with wet hair in fresh clothes.

“That felt so good,” she groaned in happiness as she passed Y/n in the hall.

“I bet,” Y/n smiled, “There extra towels in there?”

“Yep,” Ellie called, she was already halfway down the stairs, passing Joel as she descended.

If Y/n and Joel had dodged any awkwardness in the past 48 hours, it had boomeranged back around and slammed into them. They stood in the hall, keeping three feet of space between them and struggled for words.

“I’ll be quick,” Y/n said finally, heading into the bedroom that connected to the bathroom.

“Sure,” Joel replied, fiddling with his fist at his side.

Showers were one thing that no one ever took for granted anymore. Water supply in the QZ wasn’t consistent, one day you could have warm water and the next it’d be ice cold. You couldn’t count on anything to stay the same. So when Y/n had complete control of the temperature and made it burning hot, she felt like she could cry from pure joy.

Joel stood outside the bedroom door, leaned up against the wall. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Sweet images of early mornings with Y/n stormed past his defenses, flooding his brain. How she looked with wet hair, the smell of her skin after using some soap he couldn’t remember the name of…he tried to ignore the fact that it was all on the other side of the door.

Y/n emerged from the shower a few minutes later, having gotten all the dirt out of her hair and nails, and wrapped a threadbare towel around her torso. She quickly dried off and changed into the new clothes Joel had found them. It was a plain t-shirt, a men’s button up to go over it and a plain pair of jeans. Gone were the days of dressing up because you felt like it. It was a stupid thing to miss, but Y/n felt the loss regardless.

Dressed, she opened the bathroom door. The sound signaled that Joel could come in.

He came around the corner, having just put his memories to bed when he saw her. Pruny, barefaced and natural…the way he’d always loved her.

“All yours,” Y/n muttered, unable to break the eye contact they held.

Joel cleared his throat and his mind, “Thanks.”

“I’m just gonna be here,” Y/n gestured to the dresser and the attached mirror, “Try and get a comb through my hair.”

“Okay,” Joel nodded.

He walked past her, their shoulders brushing as he did, and closed the bathroom door behind him. It was the first time they’d touched in twenty years.

Now anger was rarely ever born from just anger. No one hated someone just to hate them. There was always something deeper beneath it. More often than not, anger found a companion in heartbreak. They’d collide, morphing together to make something so complicated, you couldn’t tell one apart from the other.

Y/n reached for a spare comb, her trembling hands causing her hair to catch in the teeth. Harboring the anger had been effortless, it was a fire that stoked itself. It was the pain, the flame that started the blaze, that was causing her to feel like she was burning, from the inside out.

The tears welled in her eyes, she refused to let them fall until her reflection was nothing but a blur. She dropped the comb on the dresser, and fell back onto the bed. It could no longer be contained.

Joel had broken her, destroyed her. The loss of him was a hurt that had refused to fade with time. She could feel her heart splitting back open just being around him, the same way it had the day that they’d parted. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break the way she had after he’d left. With the simple act of calling a truce and playing nice, she had reopened the wound she had spent twenty years trying to heal with her unbridled bitterness. She was bleeding out.

On the other side of the door, Joel was propped up against the shower with one hand. Rivulets of the stream dripped down his hair and face. He stared down at the drain, his emotions mixing and swirling much like the water at his feet. Joel had never considered himself particularly favored by the world. There were only two times when he’d felt like there was some higher power bestowing happiness upon his unworthy head.

The first was when Sarah was born, when he got to hold her for the first time.

The second was when Y/n entered his life.

Now her mere presence felt like a punishment. A reminder of what he’d done to her, a child’s taunt of a love he could never go back to. Knowing she was on the other side of the wall caused every muscle in his body to tense. Joel was still himself, regardless of what the pandemic had turned him into. The guilt he’d long tried to drown was rising to the surface, threatening to rebel and throw him underwater. Mixed with the fresh loss of Tess, he was overwhelmed. If he didn’t keep repeating the same three things to himself, she lied, she’s a liar, she’ll lie again, he would collapse entirely.

Y/n sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying over Joel. She wished for blind hatred, not the memory of his smile. Bitter regret, not the ghost of his lips. She couldn’t take another time of looking into his eyes and seeing the man she had loved with her whole heart.

Had they known that with a mere twelve feet of space and one shoddy door between them, it still wouldn’t have changed anything. Their chapter was over.

Needing distance, Y/n got off the bed and combed her hair as she walked down the stairs. She found Ellie seated in the front room at the piano.

Ellie turned to her and smiled, “Well, that’s an improvement.”

Y/n bristled, “Be nice to me. I am keeping you alive, after all.”

Ellie hummed as if that was up for debate and turned back to the piano, “You ever learn to play one of these?”

“A little,” Y/n replied, coming to join her, “I played as a kid, not as much when I was an adult.”

“You wanna play something?” Ellie suggested, it didn’t feel like it was for Y/n’s benefit so much as her own.

Y/n motioned for Ellie to make room and settled in next to the girl. It had been over twenty years since she’d felt ivory beneath her fingers, and this one was a beautiful model. She wracked her brain for songs where all the chords were still intact.

She placed her hands accordingly, pressing down on the first keys.

“Slow down, you crazy child,” she softly sang, “You’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?”

“You can fucking sing?” Ellie cried excitedly.

“Where's the fire, what's the hurry about,” Y/n kept going, “You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day.”

Ellie swayed a little, taking in the curiosity of the person she hardly knew, yet liked better than anyone. She couldn’t help herself from sneaking a finger onto a key and quickly pressing down.

“Don’t mess me up,” Y/n laughed as she continued to play, “But you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.”

Joel had just pushed his wet hair back and buttoned up his shirt he’d found. Renewed by the hot water, he grabbed the stick of deodorant he’d used and left the bathroom. The music and it’s sweet accompaniment drifted through the bedroom door, hitting Joel and rendering him breathless for a moment. All he could feel was her, wrapping her arms around him with each word.

Ellie continued to hit random keys at inopportune times, Y/n’s knocked her shoulder against hers.

“You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through,” Y/n crooned, her grin causing her to enunciate differently.

Joel quietly made his way down the stairs, feeling his body unnaturally relax with each note Y/n sang. Her voice hadn’t changed at all.

“When will you realize,” Y/n did a little flourish with the keys, leaving Ellie no room to mess with the melody, “Vienna waits for you.”

When she removed her hands, Ellie clapped and whooped. The mood had been so dark since the day of the shootout, it felt like a single ray of light was shining down on them.

Joel watched her sing the last line from the hall, it was like his memories had come to life right in front of him. How hard was it to bury the past when it was everywhere you looked?

Ellie turned around and saw Joel, “Well, don’t you look pretty.”

Y/n rotated on the bench and faced Joel. It was unfair that he seemed to be getting more handsome with age. With his hair slicked back and his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, it stirred up a singular butterfly in her stomach. She was quick to put it down.

Joel’s eyes flashed to Y/n before catching himself and looking back to Ellie, “Shut up.”

He tossed her the deodorant. “Nice,” she commented, swiping it on before handing it to Y/n. “Hey,” she trailed after Joel, “Did you know Y/n can sing?”

Y/n snorted as she used the antiperspirant. Ellie was the only thing keeping her spirits up on the trip. Everything else hurt, but the young girl’s joy acted as a balm.

Joel went back out to the garage to confirm the battery was charged up. He installed it quickly and headed back into the house. “We’re good to go,” he announced, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Ellie and Y/n grabbed their jackets and bags, the three of them filed out of the house in hopeful silence. They shoved their things in the back seat of the truck, leaving one side clutter-free.

“Why don’t you take the front?” Y/n suggested to Ellie, already climbing in the back.

Ellie jumped into the passenger side, a toothy grin spread across her face as she started fiddling with the foldout mirror.

“It’s your first time in a car?” Joel asked from beside her, not the slightest bit amused.

“It’s like a spaceship,” Ellie said wondrously.

“No, it’s like a shit piece of Chevy S10,” Joel grumbled, “But it’ll get us there…I think. Seatbelt.”

Ellie glanced up from playing with the radio dials, confused.

Undeniably in sync with each other, Y/n reached through the gap between Ellie’s seat and the window as Joel reached over the girl and pulled the belt over her body. “Seatbelt,” Joel repeated.

Ellie took it from him and clicked it into place, “So cool…”

Y/n watched from over their shoulders. It wasn’t lost on her how it had taken no time for Joel to start acting like a parent again.

Joel started up the car as Ellie dug through the glove compartment. She held something up to Joel that Y/n couldn’t see.

“Put it back…” Joel directed, “Ellie…”

Ellie ignored him, popping in the cassette tape and hitting play. Soft guitar rang through the truck’s speaker system. Ellie was about to skip the song when Joel and Y/n piped up at the same time.

“No, no, wait-“

“No, leave it.”

Their words collided, surprising them both. It was the first thing they’d agreed on.

“This is good,” Joel said as he made a turn, “This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don’t know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

Y/n smirked from the back seat before the nostalgia washed over her again. The song had been a favorite of hers for decades, but there was one night in particular she distinctly remembered playing it on.

Joel drove down the path that led to the gate, letting the song fill the cracks of him left by all the beauty disappearing from the world. There was still a musician living inside him. “Oh, man…” he muttered.

In the rear view mirror, Y/n and Joel’s eyes flickered to one another. The second their gazes connected, they diverted them back to the road. In their minds, they were back in Y/n’s shitty apartment, leaving for their first date.

“Eh,” Ellie remarked, “It’s better than nothing.”

Y/n couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbled from her lips, nor could Joel hide his flash of a smile. She was going to make them both feel ancient before their journey was over.

Joel pressed the gate code on the remote Bill had left in the garage, the gate opening for them like the parting of the Red Sea. Even he, in all his jadedness, felt some sort of hope.

Y/n settled against the window, taking one last look at the town Bill and Frank had kept up over the years. Their legacy was one not of sadness, but of renewal. They had supplied her, Joel and Ellie with the resources to go forward with their journey. They were helping them in their mission to change the world. It was a kindness she’d never get to thank them for, but she’d certainly never forget.

They drove into the sunset, golden hour embracing them and welcoming them onto the open road. Maybe, just maybe, this was the turning point for them…

————

A/N: Just an FYI, we hit the 50 mentions limit so the taglist will be split between the post and the comments :)

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed

#Joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #Joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

2K notes · View notes

l3viat8an · 11 months

Note

OMGOMGOMG

This kept me up last night lmaooooo

so we all know that Beelie goes on rampages when he gets hungry....

But imagine Beel going on "hunger" rampages in present day while mc is stuck in NB

Like he just needs to taste mc again so bad that he goes completely insane. It's just an insatiable craving that won't go away!!!

~🍒

Nsfw content MDNI

CW; underwear sniffing / licking- I’m sorry my brain is gross : (

This is just trouble for everyone else because there’s no way to stop Beel without you around-

I mean what can anybody do? You’re not there and you seem to be all he wants….if they get desperate enough the other boys might try getting Beel into your room.

It’s risky because he could end up smashing everything to bits….but it’s they’re only hope. Maybe being in your room, surrounded by your scent will calm Beel down.

and it seems to work!! a little while later the rumbling mass that was Beel in all his rage, comes out of your room acting like himself again and mumbling about going to Hell’s Kitchen because he’s hungry….

The others just assume it worked and being around your stuff helped!!-

Not that Beel spent the last hour with a pair of your underwear in his mouth and another wrapped around his cock, whining about how good you taste and how much he misses you…..

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that---one---kid · 5 months

Text

The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room. Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him. You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you. A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage with you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance. Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way. In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #smut

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 3 months

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Will you please be quiet?

Summary: You have a song stuck in your head and Emily one has one way to make you be quiet.

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader POV:

“I wanna be your endgame, I wanna be your first string!” I sang as I was getting ready for the day. Music blasting through my apartment, as I pack my go-bag.

I go over to my vanity and put on some quick makeup and keep humming Endgame as it echos through the walls of my bedroom.

I hop into my car to go to work and put my Spotify on shuffle, Endgame comes on again. I’m not complaining but oh my god. This is going to be stuck in my head for days now.

Time skip to when reader gets to Quantico*

I’m minding my own business waiting for my coffee to pour while humming Endgame as Emily walks up behind me.

“Got a song stuck in your head?” Her hand lightly brushed over my waist as she went to stand next to me. Oh my goodness this woman makes butterflies erupt in my stomach by such a small touch.

“Ha, yeah. That obvious huh?” She let out a small laugh as she nodded.

“Yeah well you’ve been here what, an hour? And I don’t think I’ve heard anything but that time leave your mouth.” I lowered my head and shook it laughing at her observation, a blush coating my cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t come here just to talk about the song planting itself in that pretty little head of yours-“ I don’t let her finish, partially because the blush on my cheek is becoming too noticeable now and also because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

“We have a case.”

“Yes, we do, meet in the round table in 10.” She gives me a small smile and walks away.

Time skip to once they’re on the jet on the way to the case*

“Big reputation, big reputation, ohh you and me, we’d be a big conversation.” I mutter under my breath as I sit next to Emily looking over the file.

“Oh my god! You’re still going huh?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts by her soothing voice, I laugh and look at her honey brown eyes.

“Sorry!” I laughed as I looked back down to the file, her hand found its way onto my thigh under the table, careful not to draw attention to us. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

An uncontrollable smile bloomed on my face. I gave her hand a squeeze to say thanks and we both went back to the task at hand.

Time skip to when they’re looking through evidence at the local PD*

“You got anything?” Like asked Rossi.

“Nothing, if this guy did have any enemies he was quick to bury the hatchet as not to be tracked down.” As soon as he said this my brain flickered on with Endgame. Again.

“And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put ‘em.” I hear a giggle next to me and look over and find Emily gazing at me.

“Don’t even,” I sighed “It’s starting to annoy me as well.” She laughed and shook her head and looked back down at the evidence like we had collected from the scenes.

Time skip to a little later*

“Hey what you humming?” Tara asked me as she looked up from the crime scene photos on the table.

“Endgame by Taylor Swift.” I reply without looking up, trying to piece together where the unsub was going to strike next.

“Oh my god! I love Taylor Swift! What’s your favourite album?” Before I could respond Spencer came into the room we, and the rest of the team, were in and started talking.

“Guys, I know where the unsub is going to strike next. The house he grew up in has been condemned and scheduled for demolition so that’s probably where he’s been taking his victims. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll be going back there at some point after 10pm tonight.” We all started to pack up our things when Emily called out,

“Guys, we need to do a stakeout. We’ll scare him away if we go in there guns drawn and then he’ll go underground so, Reid and JJ, park on the curb near the house, Tara and Matt, go to the end of the road, Rossi and Luke to the other end of the road, you’ll act as a kind of covert roadblock and me and y/n will park up in an lay-by near the house.”

We all got up and went to our assigned SUV and started driving to our destinations. On the way there Emily turned the radio on.

“And I heard about you, ooh, you like the bad ones too.”

“Oh my god! It’s everywhere!” We laughed together at this. What are the chances?! We kept the radio on nonetheless.

As we pulled into the parking space we sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other presence and the peace of an evening stakeout. The sun was setting and I absentmindedly started humming under my breath yet again.

“I don’t wanna miss you, like the other girls do. I don’t wanna hurt yo-“ before I could finish I feel my chin being tugged to the side and a soft pair of lips meeting my own.

To say I was shocked at first was an understatement but I soon melted into the kiss, her thumb caressed my face as our lips moved together. It was the most amazing moment of my life to date. Emily slowly pulled away her face still barely a centimetre away from my own.

“What was that for?” I asked, still skeptical.

“It’s the only thing that I could think of to stop you from singing that damn song!” Laughter broke out between us and as it died down she pulled me back in again for a brief kiss.

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?” She asked gazing into my eyes with our hands intertwined.

“Are you, Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, asking me out on a date?” I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Yes, I am.” She giggled.

“In that case, dinner tomorrow sounds awesome.” I kiss her again, savouring the taste of her on my lips.

“I’ll take you to and from work so you can stay the night and not worry about your car.” I say thank you as I pull her into another kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the others.

Her hand reaches for the back of my head and pulls me in closer, her tongue swiping my bottom lip asking for permission. Granting it, I open my mouth and let her explore.

“Hey guy! Stop sucking each other’s faces and go back to the PD we got the guy!”

We make eye contact and start laughing hard.

Well Shit. At least I ahoy a date with em!

#wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #lesbian pride #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader

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galexystern · 4 months

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easy - 18+

pairing; actor!steve harrington/fem!reader

warnings; smut (MDNI), angst, tooth-rotting & v cheesy fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, jealousy, kinda hurt/comfort, one use of y/n near the end

word count; ~4.3k

desc; while on a press tour for his latest movie, steve says something that sends you into a spiral. something that forces him prove his undying love for you when he gets home.

a/n; based off that interview of tom blyth and rachel zegler on the tbosas press tour. you know the one

read on ao3 / masterlist

You come upon it without trying. Dating an actor can be hard, watching them experience whole lifetimes and romances in a tight two-hour movie or eight-episode show, and your boyfriend Steve Harrington feels things deeper than others, you know. Thus why you never search the press Steve does for any project—you don’t need to hear it.

Of course, if something pops up on your feed, you’ll watch it. It’s impossible to swipe away from his lovely face; you’ve missed him so much as he’s worked on his latest movie, and any whiff of him is captivating. Which is how you see one specific interview he did with his co-star, Nancy Wheeler, the female love interest.

“Who wouldn’t love her? It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

As soon as you hear it, the words embed themselves. They echo within you all the time. You try to forget them, distract yourself, but it’s useless. You’d hoped they’d go away when Steve comes home, but they’re still there, bouncing around your brain like the world’s most annoying song. When he’s hugging you so tight you can barely breathe. When he’s smiling uncontrollably at being home. When he’s talking nonstop about his adventures on set.

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

You shake your head to get rid of the phrase, and take Steve into the dining room, where the table is ready with all his favorite foods. You’d prepared them in another attempt to quiet your mind, not that it had worked, but it makes him smile so it was worth it anyway. You sit him down and then slide into your seat across from him, watching as he dishes out onto his plate and digs in. You don’t touch it. You’re not hungry.

“And then, believe it or not, I slip on the goddamn banana peel. Can you believe that?” He laughs at his own bad luck. “They used that take for the final cut. Can’t wait for you to see it.” He’s been talking about taking you to the premiere since the date was set. The idea of being in front of reporters and cameras and the movie’s other stars is kind of nauseating.

That’s when you hear yourself blurting out, “Are you in love with Nancy?”

As soon as the words have left your lips you want to suck them back in. Your boyfriend’s eyes have widened astronomically and his hand is frozen, fork stuck halfway between the plate and his open mouth. Convenient, you think helplessly.

“Never mind,” you rush out before he can say anything, “forget it. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks a couple times, seeming to come back into his body, and then carefully lays his fork down, bite of food unconsumed. He laughs awkwardly, and you cringe. Your fault for ruining the mood. “Can’t really forget that, can I?” He half-jokes before wiping his face with a napkin and then putting it on the table. His chair scoots back as he stands, and for a moment you’re terrified he’s going to walk out, insulted beyond belief that you would ask something so wild, but he just rounds the table to your side and sits in the seat next to you. He angles his body towards you, and maneuvers your chair to face him. You sit there like dead weight.

“Now, my love,” he starts gently, “what was your question?”

You don’t really want to repeat it, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything. “I asked if you were in love with Nancy,” you answer, almost inaudible.

He nods thoughtfully. “And why would you think that?”

He’s not being accusatory, but you still clam up, afraid of what could come next. You shrug instead.

“Angel, I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”

You meet his gaze, seeing love and sincerity shining brightly, and finally explain quietly, “I saw that interview you two had. Where you said that it was easy to fall in love with her.”

Steve exhales heavily. “I was afraid that might be it.” Your expression sharpens and he rushes to add, “I’m not in love with her. I was just worried this exact thing could happen after I said it.”

“Why’d you say it then?” You ask petulantly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was thinking more in terms of my character instead of myself, truthfully. And I meant more in terms of her character too. Ryan would—and did—find it easy to fall in love with Sarah,” using their character names.

“But you said Nancy’s name.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. You don’t usually look at my press so I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it, and I didn’t wanna bring it up and worry you. I know it sounds like an excuse, sweetheart, but I meant what I said. I’m not in love with Nancy.”

“Okay,” you reply, not fully convinced.

Steve can tell. “Baby, look at me, please?” You lift your head to meet his pleading stare. “I’m not in love with Nancy,” he says firmly, drilling it into you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I’m going to stay in love with you for a long time. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Again, words fly out before you can stop them. “Please don’t tell me that’s a proposal.”

He’s caught by an unexpected laugh. “No, honey. When I propose to you, you’ll know it.” A thrill runs through you with the use of “when” and your lip quirks up. But it’s quick to pop back down, and Steve notices. He pats his thighs. “Come here, angel.”

It takes a few seconds, but you eventually drag yourself from your chair and into his lap, letting your legs dangle and wrapping your arms around his neck. He secures his own around your waist, not letting you fall or slide backwards. You’re close enough that he can nuzzle his nose against yours, and you huff a giggle at the movement. His lips curl into a smile on your cheek.

He moves so that your foreheads are resting together and he can gaze deep into your eyes. You can’t look away. “I love you, baby. Only you. And you can always come to me if you’re upset or unsure or whatever. Okay?” You nod hesitantly. “Do you need me to prove it? That you’re the one for me?” You go breathless when his hands dip down to your ass and press you more firmly against him, feeling his hardness and making your underwear go wet in response. You nod more quickly this time and he smirks.

“C’mere then,” he whispers and you waste no time meeting his lips with yours. He kisses you, slow and languorous, taking his sweet time swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth and exploring inside when you eagerly open for him. It’s like a dance, how it weaves with yours. This isn’t a time for domination.

You slide your hands into his hair and tug at the strands, swallowing his resulting moan. He seems to know innately when you need air and pulls away, only to come back and run his mouth along your jaw sweetly.

“Such pretty noises,” he murmurs, referring to the little whimpers you let out when he nips lightly at your skin. “Music to my ears, baby.”

If that’s the case, then you can only think he has to be delighted at your whiny moan when he sucks a mark into the pulse point on your neck. Sure enough, he thrusts into you at the sound, hitting your clit perfectly and soaking you further. You want to keep the friction going so you continue the grinding, Steve’s hands fully clutching your hips now to help you along.

Unexpectedly, he stands, bringing you with him. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist desperately, not really believing he would drop you but feeling a tad scared anyways. He chuckles as he walks the both of you out of the dining room and up the stairs, nudging the bedroom door open with your hips. It’s dark, but the moon is shining in through the open window, creating a soft glow that compliments your boyfriend’s skin and shadows that outline his firm jaw. He sets you down slowly, letting your feet drag down until they softly land on the floor, and once you’re standing securely, he slides his hands up your body until they’re cupping your cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, and you heat at the praise. He must be able to feel it, burning underneath your skin, but he doesn’t point it out.

He dips in and kisses you again, hands going to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, over your head, interrupting the kiss for just a moment and then he’s back on you. His fingers explore the newly revealed skin, caressing it reverently, like you’re made of the most precious substance and might break if he presses too hard. Shivers fizzle wherever his touch goes—across your stomach, over your hips, up your back. He finds your bra strap and unhooks it, moving back a touch so he can pull it off along with his own shirt. He comes back immediately, and you gasp into his mouth as your breasts make contact with his chest hair, the wiry feeling of it rubbing against your nipples deliciously.

You break from his intoxicating mouth to whine his name. “Sh,” he soothes, “let me worship you. My angel from heaven.”

Your heart practically melts at the words and all thoughts of pouting disappear. You let Steve push you backwards and sit you on the edge of the bed. He stands above you, two fingers under your chin to angle your head up towards his. It’s almost impossible to look directly at him, the level of love and adoration in his expression blinding in its intensity.

“Love of my life. Can I taste you?” You nod dazedly at his question, unable to do anything else, unwilling to do anything else. “Lay back for me.”

Following orders, you do so, and he slips off your pants. His fingers stroke down your legs as they go, tugging off your socks as well. He kneels and you prop up on your elbows just in time to watch him bury his face between your legs, smelling you through your underwear. They’re already soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind: he laps at the wet spot and moans. “Missed this so much, baby. Your taste, your smell. Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this the whole time I was gone.”

His fingers hook into the waistband and drag it down, infuriatingly slow, and you’re thinking of whining again when he licks a line up your slit. The intended whine comes out as a moan instead, spurring Steve on to press into you even deeper. You lose yourself in his ministrations, as he swirls his tongue across your folds and up to your clit. When he sucks it into his mouth, you collapse backwards, unable to hold yourself up any longer during this beautiful torture.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, hand drawing in and rubbing a finger against your entrance. “Let yourself feel it. Feel how much I missed you. How much I love you.”

Your eyes roll back when that finger breaches you, pushing inside and crooking upwards to catch that spot he always knows how to find. “Oh,” you breathe, “finally.”

His lips quirk up and you can tell he must be smirking. “Finally, huh?” You shake your head; he’d misunderstood. “What then, honey?”

“Couldn’t do it right myself,” you pant. “You do it—” your breath hitches as he brushes that spot again, “better.”

“Is that right?” As much as it irritates you, his smug tone is deserved.

“Yes…oh!” You exclaim. He’s inserted another finger, and now both are thrusting inside you, picking up their pace. Little noises fall from you as his tongue flicks your clit in time with his fingers, going deeper with each hit.

“Is my pretty baby going to cum for me?” Steve asks. It’s rhetorical—he can feel you clenching around him, can tell you’re right there on the edge. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he took his time memorizing everything that makes you tick and that knowledge is always tucked away for safekeeping in his head. He’s not in danger of forgetting any of it. So he knows you’re on the precipice. A few more seconds should do it. “Come on,” he urges. “Cum for me, my love. I’ve got you.”

As he suckles your clit, you explode, climax rushing through you like a drug and you float upon it. Your boyfriend works you through it, continuing to curl his fingers inside you to keep you going even higher. All until you’re whimpering from overstimulation—then you think he’s going to remove them. Instead, they increase in speed. You yelp as his mouth dives in again, tongue moving quickly.

“Steve!” You half-shout, eyes squeezing shut as the brilliant torment goes on.

“I know you’ve got another for me, princess,” he says in between licks. “Been wanting to make you squirt again. Got off to the memory of the last time you did every night I was away from you.”

“I can’t,” you cry. You grab his wrist but don’t move it, feeling the orgasm he wants hurtling towards you.

“You can, baby, I know it,” he coaxes. “Gimme another. Just one more and then you get my cock, okay?”

You throw your head back as liquid gushes from you, all over Steve’s face. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” He moves his hand away and sticks his tongue in, gathering up all your climax and swallowing it down, moaning at the taste he’d missed so much. When you’re squeaky clean, he stands above you, and you watch with hazy vision as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and groans in pleasure. “Always taste so good, princess.” You’re so fucked out already that you can’t even feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

You weakly lift your hands towards him and make grabby motions. He smiles and does as asked, leaning to hover over you and give you sweet kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist and tug him down, and he collapses on top of you in a huff. You hum contentedly and snuggle into him, making him chuckle fondly and lay on you like a weighted blanket.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, “so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I said that stupid thing and got you all worried.”

“‘S okay. I know what you meant once you explained. You’ve always been almost a method actor.”

“Maybe, but full method acting is freaky and I’m good without.”

You giggle. “Me too.”

He shifts and you feel his cock on your leg, still hard and without relief. You subtly lift your thigh to rub it and he moans, dropping his head to your shoulder and biting lightly. “Aren’t I supposed to get that now?” You tease. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“And now you want in return?” His tone barely contains the smirk he’s definitely sporting. He lifts himself up to look at you and groans a little at your pleading pout.

“I’ll even wet it for you,” you add while batting your eyelashes. Truthfully, your mouth has been watering ever since he’d first mentioned it.

He kisses you deeply. “An enticing offer that I will take you up on next time, baby. I think I might die if I’m not inside you immediately.” You giggle again as he stands and shucks off his pants and boxers, the sound hitching when his large, red, throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. He smirks at you unknowingly licking your lips when you spot the precum beading at the head. “Like what you see, angel?”

You nod, eyes still locked on his cock. “Gimme, please,” you whine.

“Anything for you, my love.” He climbs over you again and lines up. Your hips cant forward to urge him on, but his hands clamp down and pin them to the bed. “Gonna savor this,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock through your folds. Electricity bolts through you when it grazes your clit, teasing. His eyes are magnetized to where you’re about to be joined, awed at how beautiful you are for him.

Eventually, his cock notches into your entrance and you gasp lightly. That turns into a drawn-out moan as he takes his time sliding inside, one he matches as soon as he bottoms out. He’s so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach.

Then he’s gone, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow but hard, and your back arches. “So responsive,” he coos, and does it again and again, until he’s moving at a steady pace and driving you crazy. Taking advantage of the leisurely tempo, he ducks his head down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, making you grip the bed sheets with tight fists. He swirls his tongue around, biting gently every now and then to make you jolt against him.

Going so slow grows maddening. “Faster, please, baby. Need more of you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he vows. Soon, he’s moving so hard and fast that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, oddly erotic. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to do anything but take it, be Steve’s little plaything. It feels so good you can barely stand it.

You’re admiring how your boyfriend looks in the soft moonlight, making his eyes shine in an otherworldly way, when he says reverently, “You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart. Lookin’ like an angel sent just for me. Because you’re all mine, right?”

“Yes, Stevie, all yours,” you moan.

He growls at that, putting his hands on your thighs and pressing them to your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. You keen at the new angle, sound cutting off as he kisses you desperately, and you throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back, much too quickly in your opinion, but you forgive him because he does so to say, “And I’m all yours, baby. You’re the only one for me. Only you make me feel this good. You’re all I think about, all I wanna think about. There’ll never be anyone else, princess. I love you and only you.”

His words push you closer and closer to your release, even more intense than the first two. He knows, urging you on by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That’s it, soak my cock. Wanna feel you again, honey.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” you say over and over as your orgasm comes upon you. You scream Steve’s name when you finally cum, climax like a cascade, nails dragging down his back like they just might draw blood.

“Yes, angel, I love you too, missed you so much, oh my god, you’re so tight, love you, love you.” He’s babbling, finally cumming too, spilling hot and heavy. When he pulls out, your combined liquid pools out of you, and he groans one last time at the sight. He scoops some up with a finger to taste, eyes closing in delight. He opens them to look at you mischievously. “Wanna try?”

It should sound gross but it’s not. You nod and he repeats his motion. You suck his finger, pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable flavor. But it’s the essence of you and Steve–why wouldn’t it be good?

You must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing you know Steve is wiping you with a warm washcloth, being as gentle as possible. You hum as he pulls the covers over you, but whine when you hear him step away. “It’s okay, angel,” he says softly, “I’ll just be a minute.” You listen to the dresser drawer opening and closing, and then Steve padding out of the room. You doze until you hear him come back and close the door. At long last, he slides into bed and gathers you in his arms. You curl around him like moss on an old building, and he buries his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half-asleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve replies. “It’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. I love you so much, you know that? It’s the easiest thing to do, loving you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“I’m yours for good, angel. And you’re the only one for me. Promise.”

;

“It’s gonna be bright out there, angel, but just keep holding onto me, okay? I’ll get you there in one piece. All you have to do is show off that pretty smile. Sound good?” You nod at your boyfriend, smiling shyly. Steve grins. “There she is. Now, kiss for good luck?” You give him a kiss and then he’s out of the limo. Less than a minute later, he’s ducking back in the open door and holding out a hand for you. You take a deep breath, grab it, and slide out into the flashing lights.

A wall of sound hits you, and you try not to cringe against Steve. So many voices layer over each other, you don’t know what anyone is saying. But you just remember what Steve said and think of him on the night he came home and a smile forms on your face at the memory.

Steve helps you walk carefully down the red carpet, stopping you here and there to pose for the cameras. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you stable and so you can focus on looking natural. “Doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in your ear at one point, kissing your temple. You close your eyes when he does, hoping one of the photographers got a shot of it. You think you’d like to frame that.

Eventually you reach the end of the carpet, and Steve’s agent ushers you two into the building. It’s a whirlwind in here too, but more manageable, loud but controlled. Your boyfriend turns to you. “You okay?”

You sigh happily at the love and concern in his eyes. “I’m good,” you promise, and he smiles.

Someone shouts his name, and you both turn. None other than Nancy Wheeler is rushing towards you, a tall and lanky man being dragged behind. Steve automatically steps closer and holds your waist again, nodding back at his costar but only thinking about how you might feel. Your heart warms at his attention, and you meet Nancy with a genuine smile.

She stops and grabs your hands. “Oh my gosh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Steve mentioned you every chance he got. I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m excited to meet you too,” you reply.

“This is Jonathan, my boyfriend.” She motions to the boy beside her, who smiles awkwardly and holds out a hand. You shake it, as does Steve.

“Heard a lot about you too, man,” he says to Jonathan, making you feel even better.

“Are you excited for the movie?” Nancy asks, just to you. She’s barely even looked at Steve.

You nod. “Steve says it’s one of his favorites that he’s made.”

“Mine too! It’s such a sweet story. It’ll have you bawling by the end. I hope you brought tissues.”

You peer up at Steve, who had not told you that you were in for a crying fest. He laughs. “Don��t worry, angel. I got some.” He pats his jacket pocket.

Nancy’s eyes are glittering when you look back at her. “We gotta find our seats, but let’s talk at the after party. I have to put a face to all the stories Steve’s told!”

You agree and watch as she and Jonathan walk away into the crowd. You turn to Steve and he draws you close. “Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home and skip this whole thing?” He whines quietly.

You smirk. He’s been asking a variation of the same question ever since you stepped out of the bathroom in this dress—which accentuates your chest and ass “magnificently,” as Steve put it. He’d even tried starting something in the limo, but all that had accomplished was leaving him high and dry after you’d made him keep his hands to himself.

“You wanted me to see the movie,” you counter now.

“Yeah, but we could stream it later. It’s not like I’ll win an Oscar for it or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “You might! It’s prime awards season, babe. And you’ve been getting a lot of acclaim for this role. And you know the academies love a tear-jerker.” He blushes at your argument. “Plus,” you whip out the doe eyes, “I wanna see you on the big screen.”

He sighs in fake annoyance, a fond smile giving it away. “I did say your wish is my command, didn’t I?”

“Yup.” You smile triumphantly.

Steve grins back before kissing you soundly. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

He gives you one last peck, and then grabs your hand and leads you into the theater.

#happy new year!!!#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

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