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callsignvenomcod · 4 months

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a soft life

Prompt: Retired! Simon Riley. A slow life in a Manchester farm.

warning: mentions of PTSD, mentions of cartel related violence, mentions of violence, MDNI.

PS: Opening line is from the book "Jarhead" (2001) by Anthony Swofford.

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A story.

A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterwards he returns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper; his hands remember the rifle.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

For a long time, it was hard to convince himself he deserved to grow old. It might have been a given fact to some other people but not for those in the military, not for Ghost, at least; not after Tommy and Beth, or Las Almas or Johnny. It took him a lot of time to be grateful to be almost 40. For several reasons, he never saw himself living past 20.

And now he was opening up the crates of the chickens he kept in his very own farm, a piece of land he actually owned, without a mask on, very far away from the bullet sounds and a barrack, from the mud and the camo, away from everything and everyone, not sound in the horizon but the chickens and Riley, the border collie dog he got, barking at a three somewhere in the distance.

He retired the summer he turned 40, there was a ceremony and everything, with Laswell and Price and he got more chest candy that would eventually end up in a wooden chest, never to be seen again, under the bed. There wasn't a reason, he just had to. He was in his prime, physically, but his mind was made of glass lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way, couldn't even train recruits without snapping too hard at them, making them quit, yell at them too much, scare them too much, beat them up to a pulp too much.

Every man in the military had a story. A life before, a life after. And in the middle, sand, or mud, or just camo. A war that last years, a mission that lasts hours. Silence and nosie.

He, like other recruits, like other Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, had shadows over them. It took months for him to stop looking over his shoulder while doing the big shop on a sunday, started going to those overnight groceries store to shop alone instead. The butcher's reminded him both of his adolescence and the carnage he had caused, flinched whenever he saw a mohawk kid walking down the street, looked twice sometimes only to find a stranger.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets, aye.

He turned in his paperwork and retired silently with lots of medals under his name, lots of dead men and probably women under his knife, missing friends, missing nerves and too scarred to be a model now. Ha.

Oh, and Y/N's wanted to get away at some point anyway.

Y/N. The last drink he never should have had, the cut that made him hide his face, and the party that made him feel his age. Pulp's words, not his. All it took was a few nights shopping at the Tesco she was working in as a cashier, late night shift, for them to become acquainted.

A year of mutual pinning, a single night in which Y/N placed the bourbon bottle and the batteries inside of the paper bag and looked up at Simon, change in hand (because he paid in cash always, no traces behind) and smiled at him. COVID had made it easier to transition from the skull balaclava to a medical mask and then to a bare face, so Simon looked at her behind the black medical mask and stared at her while she opened her mouth.

-Why do bees have sticky hair?

Simon blinked, looking down at her. -Pardon?

No line behind him. It was the first time the cashier talked to him other than "Goodnight" and "Drive safe", or "It will be 5.66, please". There was a faraway sound of some sort of 80's American pop music, something to pass time by. Simon had noticed her since the first time he came into this very same Tesco a few months ago, had noticed how she sang along whatever music was on, how her Tesco blue uniform looked too big on her, making her look insanely small and slinky. He noticed how she was always almost without a medical mask and whenever she used it, it was laced around her chin; he noticed short, clean nails, and a heart necklace over her chest, a pair of dazzling dove eyes, full hips, a belly.

He really noticed the full hips.

The girl fucking giggled and repeated. She must had a bit of Irish in her judging by the sound of her accent. Simon felt as awkward as a teenage boy in front of any girl ever -Why do bees have sticky hair?

The man shook his head, still confused, a quid in his hand.

-Because they use a honeycomb.

Ah, a woman after his own heart. Such a lame joke.

He snorted out a laugh.

It simply slipped and he memorized the name tag before grabbing his shopping bag and shaking his head, hearing her giggle behind him as he exited the store, and he came back two days later after convincing himself he needed two jars of red bean jam instead of the usual one.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

And now she sleeps here; and Simon had stared at her sleeping form wondering how much time it would take for her to start hating his way of loving, of being, how many times he would go silent on the phone, a bad texter, a worst caller, how he hated crowded places and loud noises and most of their dates happened in her flat, when her roommate was out, staring silently at a film on TV, her friends thinking she's getting her brains fucked out by an experienced, older, lust thirst Vet when in reality, Ghost was gathering up the courage to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

And now she sleeps here.

In the crook of his neck, his thigh over his hip, wild hair all over the bed, sometimes inside his mouth because he stopped using a mask a while ago.

In the mornings, tangled in their bed, warm sheets, the soft breeze of Riley sleeping under the bed, her sweet sweat and vanilla scented skin under his, it took Simon a few seconds to realize he was sleeping in the company of someone; in the arms of a woman and in his own bed, a king size bed with soft white sheets that were washed and changed every 5 days, not a twin bed in a barrack, that his years of active service were over, not forgotten, as if, but that he could allow himself to become whatever he might end up becoming if the 141 didn't happened.

-Come here, boy. Come here, Riley. Yeah, yeah...- said Simon scrunching down to caress right behind Riley's ear, the dog sticking out his long tongue and barking of joy mixed with the hyper sense of his breed, the soldier being careful not to break the eggs he held in a small basket. Simon had found him a puppy a few months ago, seemed like years really, in a litter box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, a beat-up cardboard sign reading "For adoption." And Simon picked up the only one with a lazy ear. He knew deep down that Y/N would appreciate that and simply put him in the passenger seat of the black Bronco truck he owned and drove all the way back home. -You're up early, eh? You having breakkie with us?

He had fallen into a comfortable routine now. He would wake up, crawl over Y/N's sleeping figure, careful not to wake her with the crack of dawn, 5AM with the BBC on his headphones, a 6'2 shadow jogging through the hills of the outskirts of Manchester, for an hour only the dark of the road, the eventual baby blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun. Sometimes Riley was up for it, sometimes he stood behind cuddled up in their room. And upon his return he would work out in their driveway for another hour, noticing the growing presence of what the media now called a "Dad Bod" (Y/N's words, not him) and eventually hearing soft barefoot steps coming from the room.

There was tea for two before he had to head out, get some tasks done, and a soft kiss hanging from Y/NS plush lips, and he would always try to push it, try his luck. He would smile against it, whispering "Good morning..." with a lazy voice, hands on Y/N's full hips, kneading them, in need of them, and Simon would press up with hard on against her stomach, while deepening the kiss.

It never failed to make her wet. It never failed to make her forget the kettle on the fire for a minute and simply give into his kiss, his embrace; him, overall. Simon would pick her up, easily, laid her on the counter, and her robe would open for him, with or without his help, and she was always so wet for him, so ready to do it.

-Simon...- she will say. - Breakfast...

And he wasted no time into twisting her words, dropping to his knees as if he was in the presence of a saint, of a virgin, of the end of the world, staring at her glistening cunt first thing in the morning, looking up with the adoration she deserved; she would gulp and argue it was not what she meant but she would recoil and whimper when Simon stuck his tongue inside his cunt anyway, overlapping her folds, blissfully eating her out before the sun was completely out.

The dog kept barking all the way down to the house, past the barn and the driveway, the small stable with the one horse they had, the pen he was building to eventually own sheep, and Simon felt the cold breeze of the early morning seeping through his black knit sweater and his jean jacket, as he walked all the way across the grass fields and into his porch, the swinging chair Y/N liked to read in, in a need of a reparation.

-Right...- he whispered to himself seeing the hammer he left outside to remind himself to fix the damn chair, bloody hell. Riley's nose peeked through the front door, opening it with ease and technique allowing themselves in, and the cold of the outside world was quickly gone.

Simon stepped into a cozy home, with a color palette he would have never picked, all warm yellows and oranges, pinks and whites, and soft cushions, warm blankets, a picknick turntable in the coffee table; and music, soft music he didn't recognize coming from it, a spinning record on it with yellow and pink lyrics, a girl signing about a loved one, and another voice, a present one, horribly trying to sing along.

He snorted out a laugh when Riley started barking and the voice was interrupted abruptly.

-Simon?...- Radio silence. -Babe?

Oh, the sound of his name in her mouth.

He crossed his living room, stepping into the kitchen, holding four eggs in a small bowl, one from each hen they owned, and he stood in the door frame, just a tad taller than him, admiring the view. He had endured white missions in the Russian winter, literal months of the gruesome torture and gory tasks and they all suddenly made sense because there was a girl.

Ah, there was a girl, alright.

Today was English breakfast. No peas for him, no sausages for her. It was stereotypical but easy to make and no one was around to judge them anyway. Next house was a few miles down the road, and even the road was far away, the town was a 30-minute ride. It was their little bit of heaven. The man stepped in, handing her the basket like every other day and kissed her temple, as she grilled some tomatoes slice ups leaning back against him. His hands would find her hips again and she would yawn with intimacy, hair still a mess, thighs still sticky. -Teas on the table, love. It's gone get cold.

-Ah, it's alright...- he said, hugging her tightly, as she kept leaning on him. -Slow morning today, eh...

She had been there and stuck around whenever the PTSD started acting up. She was the one that loved him when he started going fucking mental; and stuck around when she found her burning up SAS gear, a lost look in his eyes as he did so. He would throw in a Ghost mask and watch it burn for a moment, before murmuring a shocked sob and reaching out into the flames to retrieve it. She stuck around while he drank too much bourbon sitting on the porch, skull mask on, his dogs' tags held so tightly his knuckles will go white with force. Y/N even stuck around when the nightmares came, and she would wake up to Ghost whimpering on his side of the bed, breaking a cold sweat, his jaw tight and her brows furrowed, screaming out "Johnny! Johnny!" before waking up in tears, in raged hot tears down his cheeks, short of breath, his head a full of bullet noises and sirens wailings, pictures of his team and the blood and the grease paint. A mess. A shaking shadow.

Every October 11, she will make sure to hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little softer, love him, if it was possible, a little louder.

And she was here now, cooking breakfast, no peas for him; now he was living a soft life, with tea every morning, and a dog named Riley, with soft hands that wondered around his chest whenever he thought about Soap too much, about Gaz and that helo. But she was here now, and she had no sausages today, as they sat down on their small chair in their small kitchen in their small farm. He was living a soft life, and he didn't think of himself as worthy of it, but he must have been done something good to have her cooking breakfast and sleeping in their bed and caressing their dog under the table.

Tomorrow, Ghost would ask her to come out to the porch to find her reading swing fixed and a wedding ring.

She's going to say yes.

He didn't heard the bullets anymore.

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Hello! Venom here.

Thank you so much to anyone that's been liking my story.

Happy 2024!

#simon riley #cod headcanons #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost cod #modern warfare #mw2

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dariaslookalike · 3 months

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Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 10: Should you suck him or rub him?

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter:

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You jolt awake in the night; a chilly breeze through the window or an odd nightmare that was already fading from your memory. Whatever it was, you thrash against the blanket and suck in sharp breaths of air. You blearily gaze around the room when a shiver creeps up your spine and you find him sitting in the corner armchair.

“You’re a creep.” You croak out.

House raises his glass of bourbon in admission. You can only see the vague silhouette of him lit up by the light drifting in from the street; the glint of his glass, the dark shadows of his brow and cheekbones. You stay like that for a few minutes, gazing at each other. Your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness, and while he sips, you drink in the sight of him. The new stubble lining his face, the whites of his eyes, the curl of his lip.

You break the silence with a quiet question. “How was work?”

You realise it’s dumb as soon as you say it. So much had happened from work to here, where you lay, naked in his bed. You roll yourself over to your side, fully facing him.

House stares at you, and nothing is revealed on the stony plane of his face. “Cameron asked about you.”

You blink. Not like House to avoid the question, but you play into him. “What’d you say?”

His jaw clenches. “I didn’t know what to say.”

You hear his glass clink against the bedside table, and he groans. He shifts in his chair, and you can make out his hands being dragged down his face. His voice is muffled behind his palms, and you squint. “Huh?”

House just groans again, and you’re blinded when he reaches over swiftly and flicks on the lamp. You stop yourself from hissing, and just fling the blankets over your head. Only when you stop seeing white on the dark of your eyelids do you gradually lower it again.

House is staring at you, and while your eyes still sting from the brightness, you appreciate being able to see him. He grinds his teeth. “I said, do you know how annoying that is?”

You blink, stopping yourself from trying to memorise the detail of his neck, and draw your eyes back to his. “What, Cameron asking you a question? Scandalous, I know.”

House scoffs in disbelief, but it doesn’t hold the same bite it used to. It’s softer somehow, here in the pillowy, blanketed expanse of his bedroom. “Even now- Even now, when you’re running on a few hours of sleep and you’re not even fully awake yet, you’re a smart arse.” You clench your jaw as he throws his hands up softly, defeated. “No, no, not Cameron asking. It was not knowing what to say.”

You don’t say anything, and his eyes flick to yours. “I know a lot of things; more than every patient in the clinic combined, more than the snot nosed kids and helicopter parents. But I didn’t know what to say to Cameron.” He leans back in the chair, and scoffs at the ceiling. “I could’ve said your pimp raised your hours or that you were being treated next door by Wilson, and she could go shave her head with you, if she likes. And instead I stood there, and couldn’t think of anything.”

You don’t know how to reply, and he clenches his jaw, blinking away something in his eye, before he takes another sip of his drink.

“House.” Your voice is soft but it still sounds too loud in the sudden silence that envelops you both.

You don’t know how to say it, how to ask. You can feel the words lodging in your throat, trying to bubble out and instead being barricaded inside. So, you shift yourself back towards the edge of the mattress, and raise the blanket up with one arm as an invitation. You see his adam's apple bob and his eyes flick to yours. It’s one thing to fall asleep in the same bed after exhausting sex. It’s another to consciously make the decision to lay with each other- somehow, it felt more vulnerable, more raw, more intimate than what you two had done earlier.

It’s just sex. House’s words from earlier ring out and you can almost see them fluttering through his head right now.

Fine. It’s just sex. You start to lower your arm, rescinding your invitation. But House moves, staring into your eyes all the while, raising himself to his feet and you smile at him. Not a toothy, cocky smile, but a soft one that has your dimple showing.

House groans, his hand whipping to his leg. “Argh!” He’s unsteady on his feet and falls back with a ‘hrumph’ into his chair.

You don’t realise how hard you’re gripping the sheet until you sit yourself up and drag half the bedding with you. “Are you okay?”

House scoffs. “If you call missing muscle and cripple inducing pain okay, then yes, I’m okay.”

You roll your eyes, relaxing slightly. House sees your reaction, and sighs. “It’s just- it’s just a bad pain day. Trying to fuck the shit out of gorgeous women puts a bit of a strain on me.”

You gulp, slightly. “I’ll have to tell that woman off when I meet her.”

House’s breath is sharp and hissing through his nose, but he still manages to scoff. “Don’t do that.”

You can feel your pulse jumping in your neck. “Do what?”

“Don’t sit there and act like some insecure teenage girl who didn’t get asked to prom- you’re gorgeous, and if you pretend you’re not, it makes you look like a gorgeous idiot.”

You laugh, but still feel your cheeks flushing. “House, one time I walked into work, you asked me if a dog chewed me up and spit me back out.” You raise your hands in defence. “I’m not trying to fish for your compliments- I know I’m not the girl in magazines and I’m not like Cameron or Cuddy. I learnt that a long time ago and I’ve learnt to live with it.”

House looks repulsed. “You actually are an idiot then.” You roll your eyes, and he shakes his head in disbelief, still hissing in pain. “Yes, you’re not anorexic or bulimic or some giraffe looking model. And I can’t get enough of you. If you think that I’m not going to compliment you, and tell you truthfully that you’re beautiful, because you weigh more than some pubescent teenage girl beauty standard bullshit, you’re an idiot.”

He’s staring at you from beneath his brow, “Get me a bottle of vicodin from the cupboard, and I’ll show you what I really think about you.” You can practically see the dirty images across his mind. You, pinned beneath him, getting praised and worshipped and adored by House’s depraved self.

Your cheeks are definitely aflame now but you manage to force out a soft laugh. “I don’t know how you managed to say all that when you’re in that much pain.”

As if remembering his pain, House groans loudly, deep from the back of his throat, as his hand rubs over his leg. You try not to focus on the way that sounds make you throb, and you swing your feet over the side of the bed. You see House’s eyes cling to you, to the skin hidden by the bed sheets covering you. You smirk, and simply grab a discarded shirt from the floor, slipping your arms into it. The bedsheets drop, and you hear House inhale sharply at the sight of your bare chest, but then you poke your head through successfully and cover yourself again with the t-shirt.

House’s t-shirt. It’s got some sort of graphic across the front and you vaguely recall it from House’s so called ‘fashion week’ that occurred after Cuddy demanded he wear a doctor’s coat. You slide to your knees in the space between House and the bed, and he shifts his hips slightly towards you.

“Round two?” He asks, smirking down at you.

You laugh, and reach towards the bedside table. “How can you be that horny in that much pain?”

House’s blue eyes track your movements. “It’s one of my many talents.”

You grab the small tube and close the drawer, turning back to House. His eyes flick down to the Deep Heat tube, and trail down you, snagging on your bare thighs. His breath is uneven as he speaks. “How’d you know that I kept that there?”

You look up to him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll be honest- I’ve gone through your entire apartment by this point. I know where you keep your birth certificate, let alone some cream.”

He huffs. “‘Should have expected you to be a detective too.”

“As if you didn’t do the same thing at my place.”

House stares down at you for a moment before he speaks. “You’ve got me there. You found my birth certificate and I found your collection of raunchy pornography, so I guess we’re even.”

You unscrew the lid and squeeze some cream onto your hands. It warms near instantly. “Ha ha. I don’t keep porn, only a box of sex toys.”

Your eyes flick back up at his silence to see House’s hooded gaze as he stares at the apex of your thighs, seemingly entranced, and you shake your head. “Take your pants off, House.”

He blinks, shuddering in a breath. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He shimmies himself out of his pyjamas- some flannel pants that you might have called him an old man for another night. But tonight, when he shakes and his leg spasms as he finally strips his pants, you resist.

You don’t comment on his laboured breathing when he leans back against the chair, and you simply scooch closer until you’re enclosed by his knees. His hand reaches forward, threading into your tousled hair and pulling it, gently enough to drag your eyes up to his.

House stares down his nose at you, and you remain like that for a moment, staring at each other. You could stare at him forever, you think. Study the lines of his face and the blues of his eyes for your whole life, the same way a cartographer memorises the planes and the dips of a landscape or a crazed artist obsesses over the cool blue of the ocean. Memorise the notch in his brow or the lines under his eyes or the sharp slope of his cheekbone.

A smile tugs at his lips. “You are gorgeous.”

Your brow crinkles. “Now you’re only saying that because I’m on my knees.”

His hand tightens at the roots of your hair, and his grip is more sharp. “You’ll believe me. Eventually. It’ll take me fucking that insecurity out of you and maybe getting Wilson to join, but it’ll work.”

You laugh, cheeks aflame. “‘You sure you could handle that? Last I checked you hated the idea of me taking on Chase by myself, let alone your buddy.”

His jaw ticks, and you can’t tell if his sharp inhale is his pain or the mention of Chase. “That’s because Chase is a snot-nosed ‘yes-man’.”

You roll your eyes half-heartedly. “Stop with the squabbling and let me work.”

His hand loosens at your head, and you lean forward, gingerly smoothing the cream down his bare leg. House flinches at the touch, and you hear him grunt when your fingers trail over the silvery mass gouged out of his thigh. You work gently, and even softer when the grip on your hair tightens, stinging your scalp, and his breath racks through his chest, leaving him heaving. You massage the heated cream into his skin, working in circles and with both hands, pushing into the surrounding muscle and working it into the silvery scar. When it’s absorbed, and his thigh is warm to the touch, you continue working him with your hands, pushing down on the muscle and easing back in a soft massage.

House swallows above you. “I think this is better than the blowjob.”

You smile up at him, mockingly. “Really?”

His head falls back against the chair, and he groans. You clench your legs at the way the sound makes your core tighten, and focus on ensuring your hands continue to work. “Actually, we should do both to test it.”

You laugh at his hopeless attempt, and his head tilts back down as he looks at you. “How’d you learn this? I’ve had masseuses do much worse.”

You narrow your eyes in a faux-glare, applying more pressure to his thigh. “I thought you knew everything about me.”

His hands abandon your hair, and he runs them through his own hair, his adams apple bobbing as he does so. “There’s always things to learn. I didn’t know what you were like in bed, and now I know you’re a slutty little thing that loves to-”

“I got a certificate in massage therapy,” You cut him off. “While I was studying. It was easy enough and I thought it would come in useful if I ended up flunking out of being a doctor.”

“You? Flunking out? In your dreams- or nightmares, I suppose.”

You shrug softly. “It’s always good to have a back-up plan.”

He chuckles. “By that logic, what was your backup plan for your backup plan?”

“Get a sugar daddy.”

House’s eyes drop to yours immediately, searching for facetiousness. You simply smirk up towards him and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh. Your staple, you suppose. You couldn’t argue against it. Kissing House’s thigh and getting that pupil-blown reaction was worth it. “Did that help at all?”

He blinks. “You can kiss it again and I’ll tell you. Or I have something else you can kiss.”

You ease your massage, now only working softly and lightly. “I meant the massage.”

His blue eyes are soft when he gazes down at you, staring at you appreciatively.. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to get you some vicodin too?”

He sighs fully. “I could kiss you, you addict-enabling goddess.”

You roll your eyes, easing yourself to your feet. House leans forward as if shocked by the separation of your hands from his thigh, and you stand between his legs, letting your hands rest on his cheeks. They must reek of the cream, but he makes no move to resist you as you rub your thumbs against his stubble and trace the edges of his face. His shirt falls past the apex of your thighs, but his hands reach forward, slinking under the material and grasping your arse. You gasp, and move closer to him, his face coming closer to your breasts.

He squeezes your cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He gazes up at you, drinking in your reaction and hiss when his hand slaps against your arse, leaving a stinging sensation and a light, blotchy mark. He does it again, and you nudge into him, gasping lightly. You squeeze your legs together. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

He smirks. “My mistake. I’ll remedy it.”

His hands shift to your hips, gripping them and tugging you down slightly. When you’re lower, one hand reaches up, wrapping around your neck and pulling you towards him. It’s a bit awkward at that angle, but you bring yourself closer, lower, until you’re level with him. He leans forward, placing his lips against yours, and your hands move from his face to run through his hair as he deepens the kiss. He licks against your teeth and you give into him, letting him explore your mouth as his hand threads into your hair, pinning you in place. He’s warm and he’s demanding and he’s House, and you feel your core tighten.

When you pull apart, you rest your forehead against his, sucking in air. “I’ll go get your pills.”

“Forget about ‘em.” He says, trying to drag you back to his lips. You laugh, and pull back, and he lets you step back, away from him.

When you return, and pass him two pills, to which he glares at you mockingly for not bringing him the whole container, you retreat back to bed. You feel his eyes on your bare legs, and especially on the rosy print on your arse. You tug the blankets up and gaze at House as he throws back the pills and groans. He thumbs his glass, finishing the dregs of his drink, and then he lifts his head and stares at you with his cool eyes.

You’re back to where you started. This time, you find the words.

“Come here, House.”

He furrows his brow. “And if I don’t? You’ll… what? Tie me up and make me?”

You roll your eyes in mirth. “Turn the lamp off and come to bed. Please.”

His cool gaze remains on you, and it’s almost calculating- weighing the pros and cons, the possibilities and the certainties of what your request entails. But maybe it’s the light yawn you let out, or the bleary blink of your eyes, or the not so subtle inhale of his shirt. Whatever it is, House’s gaze softens, and he reaches over, flicking off the lamp.

You can’t see anything as your eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, but you can hear him. He still winces when he raises himself to his feet, but the sound is soft and nowhere near his prior pained yelp. He hobbles the slight distance to the bed and there’s the sound of shuffling and twisting sheets and blankets as he gets into the bed.

And then he’s beside you. Here.

You listen to each others breathing, neither one of you saying a word. Your eyes adjust, and you see the shape of him, darkened and identified by the sharp cut of his cheeks and the whites of his eyes. He’s staring at you too, and you wonder how much he can make out in the dark. Does he see the faded scars on your face or the tilt of your lips? Or does he see further, into you, and see all the thoughts and desires and twisted wants filling your head as you stare at him?

House is the first to break the silence, and does so by scooching closer. “Get over here.”

You chuckle quietly at his demand, but obey, shuffling closer until your arm brushes his. “I never took you as a cuddler.”

Somehow, even in the dark you can tell he’s rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t resist your observation, and rather he slips his hand under you, clinging to your back and drawing you even closer. You swing your arm out, to make sure you don’t suffocate in his shoulder, but more importantly to wrap around him too. There’s more shuffling and twisting from the both of you, but eventually, you find a comfortable position. You’re tucked into his side and his other hand rests on your thigh, drawing you leg across his hip. You ask him if that’s alright, if it hurts his leg, if he’s fine, and he scoffs lightly. “My leg won’t ever stop me from having you this close.” As if to emphasise your position, he rolls his hips forward, dragging himself against your bare core. But even House, it seems, is tired, because he relaxes and takes it no further.

Both of your hands are wrapped around his waist, and you nuzzle your face into him, inhaling him and the smell of whiskey, detergent, and House. He laughs down at you, softly. “And you said I was the cuddler.”

“‘Shuddup.” You say, but the word is muffled in the fabric of his shirt. You twist your head, and kiss his bicep where his sleeve has risen up. He swallows, and you get the sense the rise and fall of his rib cage stutters.

You drift off like that, clinging to House. His breathing deepens, and as you fall asleep, you feel him shift slightly, before he kisses your head.

#house md x reader #house md fanfiction #house md #gregory house x reader #gregory house #greg house x f!reader #gregory house fic #gregory house smut

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lilyway · 3 months

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Icarus {Alastor x Reader} Part 1

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Death and canon-typical violence. Please be aware of these warnings going forward.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Sequel

Part 1: The Road Back to You

The town was cloaked in a dimly lit embrace as a young woman emerged from the confines of the jazz club alongside her coworkers. Their rising star, a vision of elegance and charm, illuminated the night with her radiant smile, her presence akin to that of a belle of the ball, her heart as vibrant as the melodies she sang.

As they stepped onto the cobblestone streets, the camaraderie among them blossomed into animated chatter, punctuated by laughter that danced upon the evening breeze.

Tonight was special, a rare occasion when the jazz club closed its doors early to commemorate the birthday of their esteemed boss. The air buzzed with anticipation, the promise of celebration lingering in every corner as they made their way through the labyrinthine streets.

Their songstress was quick as she pulled her purse to her side and started walking away while saying her goodbyes. She had some very important plans with her husband, perhaps she was too excited as she practically skipped her way down the street.

As she traversed the dimly lit street of New Orleans, she couldn't shake the nagging sense of caution that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. The presence of a serial killer, a phantom lurking in the shadows, cast a long shadow over the once-vibrant city.

Each night, as she tuned in to her husband's somber voice on the radio, recounting the grim details of yet another victim claimed by the darkness, she couldn't help but wonder if she, too, danced perilously close to the edge of danger.

The danger that would come and soon claim her own life to their ever-increasing number of victims. But, there would be nothing in the world to stop her from returning to her husband. Her husband said he had something planned for their anniversary and that she would need her best dress.

She was beyond excited.

"(Name)! Sugar, are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?" Rowan's voice called out from the doorway, his Southern drawl carrying the warmth of a bourbon-soaked evening. (Name) turned, her smile as dazzling as a string of pearls, her curls bouncing with the rhythm of a Charleston beat.

"Thank you kindly, Rowan! My husband will be meeting me halfway," She replied, her words dripping with honey. With a graceful wave, she turned on her heel, the click-clack of her heels blending with the syncopated melody of the night as she made her way toward the radio station.

The dim glow of the radio station beckoned in the distance, the building was a beacon of safety amidst the dark empty city streets. With each hurried step, (Name)'s heart quickened, the anticipation of her husband's waiting embrace urging her onwards.

As she rounded the corner, her gaze caught sight of the alleyway, a narrow passage veiled in darkness, where the plaintive cries of a woman pierced the stillness of the night. Without hesitation, without a second thought, she veered from her path, drawn by her concern for the unknown woman.

There, amidst the shadows, she found them – a young girl, trembling with fear, and her mother shielding her from a group of thugs that loomed over them.

She should have turned away, and retreated to the safety of the main street, where she could’ve asked for help. Her husband knew his way around self-defense and they would have a phone to call the police.

But (Name) had a terrible feeling in her gut. If she left them now, these women might not be alive when help arrives.

"What do you gents reckon you're up to?" That seemed to get their attention as they turned to face her. As she walked towards the two women, she couldn’t help feeling so small as the men dwarfed her in size.

"Turn back, doll," one of the men jeered, his tone dripping with menace. "We ain't lookin' for trouble."

(Name) positioned herself between the two trembling women and the menacing thugs, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. "Leave these poor dames be! If it's coin you're after, I can see you compensated," Her declaration must have seemed like a bluff. Her voice quivered as she placed one hand on her purse.

The thugs, their laughter echoing in the narrow alley, closed in on her, their intentions clear as the moonlight filtered through the darkness. "This ain't about the scratch, sweetheart," one of them sneered, the glint of malice dancing in his eyes. (Name)'s breath caught in her throat as she took a cautious step back, her resolve tested by the looming threat that surrounded her. "This is about settlin' scores."

"Please, just let them be," (Name) pleaded, but her words fell upon deaf ears, drowned out by their laughter. Their leader pulled out a blade as he approached the crying women.

Before she could react, one of the men seized her arm in a vice-like grip, wrenching her aside with a savage force. "Just watch, my dear," Another man sneered, his voice dripping with malice as (Name) struggled against his hold.

With a surge of adrenaline, (Name) pushed his hand toward her mouth, her teeth sinking into flesh with a ferocity that seemed downright foreign to her. As he howled in agony, she wrenched herself free from his grasp, her heart was beating loudly in her chest and she wasn’t thinking straight.

With trembling hands, she lunged toward their assailant, her fingers grappling for purchase upon the blade. The metal bit into her skin, drawing blood, but she was beyond desperate, driven to protect the helpless young women.

“Run!” (Name) shouted as they stared at her like deers in headlights.

Even as she fought with every fiber of her being, the odds stacked against her, (Name) refused to yield. She could feel the sharp sting of pain as the blade cut into her hands, but she pressed on, fueled by sheer determination and the fierce resolve to survive.

Meanwhile, the two women forced themselves to their feet and ran, their cries for help echoing through the alleyway. (Name) couldn’t help but feel a smirk on her lips, before another man pulled her hair back trying to claw her hands away from the blade.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, she battled against the relentless onslaught, her hands slick with sweat and blood as she grappled for control. But in the end, it was a futile struggle, a desperate fight that meant nothing. As the assailant's blade found its mark, plunging deep into her flesh.

As (Name)’s body fell to the ground, there was the sound of fleeing footsteps and gunfire. All she could do was close her eyes and pray the pain went away. All she could do was lay there and feel her blood pool around her as she choked on the blade as her blood suffocated her lungs.

She was so close to seeing her beloved radio host too.

The sound of footsteps running towards her and her name came after. The voice was too distant to hear as she drifted off and prayed she’d see her beloved radio host when she woke up.

💟

As (Name)'s eyes fluttered open, she found herself standing before majestic golden gates, their brilliance illuminating the ethereal surroundings with a celestial glow. A wave of disbelief washed over her as she pushed herself up, half-expecting to feel the sting of pain or the weight of wounds that should have marked her body. But there was nothing – no trace of blood, no lingering ache – only a sense of surreal tranquility that enveloped her being.

Clad in a flowing white dress reminiscent of the ones she wore during her performances at the jazz club, her hair cascading down her back like a river of silk, she realized at the start that this was no hospital. It wasn’t a place that could be built by man and that started to make her panic.

"Where am I?" Her voice trembled with uncertainty as she spoke aloud, her eyes searching the expanse before her. And then, as if in response to her query, an angelic figure with a thick book turned towards her, his presence confirmed her fears. This wasn’t New Orleans.

"You're in heaven! Congratulations, you're a winner!" His words, spoken with pride and joy, hung in the air like a gentle breeze, filling the space with a sense of awe and wonder. But for (Name), the revelation struck like someone poured ice water all over her.

"No. No. No, no, no, no." Her voice cracked as felt her legs turn to jelly. This was not a dream, not a figment of her imagination – she was dead. She died saving those two women on the eve of her anniversary. “I wasn’t supposed to die like this! I have to go back! My husband! Good heavens, I’m not ready to leave him yet…” Her begging seemed to have no effect as the angel got up out of his chair.

(Name)’s tears seemed to touch the man, but it didn’t faze him whatsoever. “This is the end of the road, miss. There’s only joy from here.”

"Please, let me go back!" Her plea, filled with anguish and longing, echoed through the hallowed halls of heaven, a desperate cry for a second chance, for a return to the life she had been torn away from. As she crumpled to the ground, her hands pressed against her tear-streaked face, she grappled with the cruel irony of her fate – a life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

As (Name) crumpled before the gates of Heaven, her sobs seemed to never end. "Please, let me return to my old life," she implored, her voice choking on her despair of dying so easily.

"Shh, my dear," came the gentle reply, a soothing murmur amidst the tumult of her anguish.

"I'm begging you. Let me go back," she persisted, her voice trembling with a fervent plea for a reprieve, for a chance for a rewrite, for her to choose something different.

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible. This is the end of the road, the culmination of the life you were promised for all the good you've done in this world," the angel explained, his tone tinged with a solemn finality that brooked no argument.

"Let me see my husband! I haven't said goodbye!" (Name)'s words, tinged with desperation, hung in the air like a prayer unanswered, her heart aching for one last embrace, one final moment of solace in the arms of her beloved.

"Again, I'm sorry. But that isn't possible, "The angel replied, his voice tinged with sympathy. "But, may I ask your name?"

"(Name)," she replied, her voice barely a whisper as she pulled herself up off the floor.

"Full name, please," the angel persisted, his gaze unwavering, as he started flipping through the book and sighed at all the names on the page.

"(Name) Winters," she confessed, her last name was a reminder of happier days. The day she joined her husband's family and took on his last name.

With a gentle rustle of pages, the angel consulted the book before him, his expression softening as he found her name inscribed upon its hallowed pages. "There you are, on the list," he confirmed, his voice tinged with reassurance. "Dry your tears, my dear, and come on in."

"But, my husband-" (Name) was quickly interrupted by the angel.

"He might show up in heaven someday," the angel offered, “As long as he doesn’t end up in hell. There’s a chance he might come back.”

As (Name) gazed upon the gates of Heaven, her heart was heavy, wanted to be able to greet him with a smile. “Okay.”

💟

The celestial streets of heaven bustled with the vibrant energy of joyous winners, their laughter and song echoing through the golden expanse. Yet, amidst the revelry, (Name) found herself perched on her rooftop, a quiet observer of the lively scene below. Today, the usual melodies and dance numbers failed to lift her spirits.

As she leaned over the balcony, the celestial breeze playing with her hair, (Name) contemplated the passage of time, and how meaningless it truly was. There was no sense of actual time in this place. She would’ve been here for a week or twenty years.

How long had she been in this place of eternal bliss? The passing of time seemed to blur into an endless expanse of moments, each one blending seamlessly into the next. Her parents had found their way here, as had her little sister, their laughter and love echoing through the hallowed halls of heaven.

And yet, her brothers remained conspicuously absent, their absence a silent ache that gnawed her. Enough time must have gone by for them to show up. They couldn’t have ended up anywhere else other than in heaven! They were around the same age as her husband and would come up around the same time.

As she leaned over the balcony, the angels below danced and sang of pastries and delights, their voices like honeyed nectar amidst the gentle breeze. But for (Name), their songs felt hollow, their melodies unable to penetrate the veil of sorrow that pulled her under.

Even in her sorrow, there was a little flame of hope that flickered brightly. Perhaps, she thought, a song could indeed work wonders, lifting her from the depths of her melancholy.

As (Name)'s voice trembled with emotion, her words carried her pain along the wind. "I never needed anybody in my life, " As the notes danced upon the wind, images flickered in her mind.

Her husband's brown fluffy hair, tousled by the gentle breeze, his charismatic smile lighting up the streets as they walked arm in arm. How her days were bright and simple back then. With the minor inconveniences and the small pleasures it held.

"I learned the truth too late, " she continued, her voice wavered as the tears threatened to fall. With each verse, the distance between them felt like an impassable chasm, one that would pull her into its lonely depths.

As she pulled herself away from the edge of the balcony, her eyes remained fixed upon the golden gates. How she was starting to despise herself and her self-pity here.

Her words became a lament, a melody of longing and her pain as she wished for her old life back. " I close my eyes but he's still there, " Her voice trembling as the image of her beloved husband materialized before her.

He was bathed in a golden light making him appear as a gift from God himself. She craned her neck up to look at him and there was a surge of hope. (Name) reached out to hold him and cry into his arms. Only to watch him vanish in the wisp of glowing smoke at the smallest touch of her fingertips.

“Even as he fades from view,” Her voice quickly got louder with every passing syllable.

You’re never fully dressed without a smile, my dear. His voice echoed loud and clear in her mind as she forced a smile on her face as the tears forced themselves out. "He will still inspire me, and be a part of everything I do,"

As she pulled herself onto the balcony railing, her wings unfurled and she jumped off the edge. She watched the other winners sing and dance below her as they enjoyed their eternal life. However, (Name) had another plan in mind. She set out for the gates as she stumbled her landing as she arrived.

"Wasting in my lonely tower, awaiting by an open door," she sang, her voice rising like a prayer into the heavens above. And as she reached out towards the gates, her fingers brushed against the gilded bars, and her small flicker of hope died instantly.

There wasn’t anyone at the gates and she was just being delusional. He wasn’t coming up here anymore. That her dear, Al was still back on earth and it was a place (Name) wished he stayed.

"I'll fool myself and he'll walk right in," she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to maintain some level of internal harmony. Her hands clung to the bars hoping the gates would open and let her out. Just five more minutes on earth and she would gladly join the rest of the winners. “Waiting here for evermore…”

But her solitude was shattered by the harsh voice of an angel, her words cutting through the silence like a blade. "You're pathetic," she sneered, her tone dripping with disdain. "If he isn't here by now, he's in hell."

"That was quite uncalled for.” (Name) spat as she walked past her. She could tell this woman had something up her sleeve and she wanted no part of it.

“I call it as I see it,” the woman retorted, her voice dripping with disdain. No, that wasn’t right. This woman was downright looking down at her like she was a piece of garbage.

(Name) scoffed as she tried to keep herself focused on just walking away. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

“Better than singing her problems,” The woman shot back, her words stabbed daggers into her feet and rooted her in place.

(Name) crossed her arms, she was getting fed up and there wasn’t a point in picking a fight in heaven. “You're quite the piece of work, aren't you? Do you need something?”

The woman’s response was curt. “No.”

“Okay, I'll be on my way then,” (Name) replied, her steps quickening. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of the woman’s eyes boring into her back. “What do you want?”

But before she could receive an answer, the woman’s voice taunted her, sending a shiver down her spine. “With that obsession of yours, there’s only one place you’ll end up.”

(Name) wished that her voice didn’t shake and give her away. She didn’t want to kiss her place in heaven goodbye for her stupidity. “What are you saying?”

“You look like you need a purpose.”

“I don't need a purpose,”

The woman laughed as (Name) felt a chill going down her spine. "The rate you’re going, you won’t need one and burn with the rest of the sinners in hell."

"I earned my place here," (Name) countered, her voice trembling, as she tried to keep herself from shaking. She couldn’t ever go to hell and become a fallen angel.

"Keep telling yourself that,"

(Name)'s mind raced with questions, her unease growing with each passing moment. "What are you getting at?" she demanded, her voice betraying a hint of desperation. She wouldn’t ever end up there.

"I'm offering you a deal,"

"I don't want it,"

"Suit yourself, but you'll be back. Come and find me when you've run out of options," With her business done, the woman took to the skies and (Name) shouted for her to wait.

She didn’t mean to yell her question at her. “If that ever happens. What's your name? So, I can find you.”

“Lute.”

💟

Another decade passed in heaven and (Name)’s search for her husband and some clue of his whereabouts were fruitless. Every passing year that she searched a small part of her died, first few years it was her hope and later it was her love. (Name) having to come up empty-handed every single time took its toll.

In the quiet moments of solitude, (Name) grappled with the bitter truth that her love may never return to her side. The echoes of his laughter and the warmth of his embrace seemed like distant memories, fading into the recesses of her mind like whispers carried away by the wind.

In her solitude, came the truths she refused to face. That her soul was becoming consumed by her envy and prayers to see him again. She longed to feel his presence once more, to hear his voice echoing through the golden streets of paradise. There was something about being condemned to paradise without all your loved ones that was driving her insane. When did he become her world? When did she corrupt her pure unconditional love for him? Why was she so hung up on him even now?

Alastor, her dear husband.

Her beloved husband and her world. He would never come, and her prayers wouldn’t be answered. Alastor would forever be beyond her reach and never be someone she could hold again.

Alastor would never come, because he was in hell. As much as she refused to believe it or admit it. Deep down? She knew. Her husband was being tortured in hell for reasons that were foreign to her.

Alastor would never be here. He would never come. (Name) would never hear him play his piano as she sang or snuggle up to him when he read the morning paper. Or touch his hair and wear his glasses.

He was in the worst place now and that was final. The place that tortured those who lived vile lives. A pit with killers, cannibals, terrorists, and abusers.

She wanted nothing more than to forget.

Which lead her here, in front of the Exorcist’s main building with a meeting in place with Lute. She did her homework and quickly learned she was a fearsome fighter. But, more importantly, she was Adam’s right hand.

She did exactly what Lute said she would do. (Name) would come back for that deal. She would screw everything she had ever hoped to do here. As long as Lute would give her a purpose and a method to prevent her from falling to hell.

(Name) was going to take that damn deal.

And so, with a heavy heart and a steely resolve, (Name) made her decision. She would embrace the deal offered by Lute, no matter the cost. She would forsake everything she had ever known, everything she had ever hoped to become, in exchange for a chance at redemption.

Her heart ached as she pushed the doors open and saw Lute and Adam awaiting her. Adam looked bored as she ate his lunch and Lute seemed to have a wicked grin on her face.

"Took you long enough," Lute might have been grinning, but her tone was anything but one of joy. She seemed more annoyed than anything else.

(Name) straightened her posture as she held her hands tightly. “You said you had a deal for me.”

"The deal to prevent you from becoming a loser?" Lute sneered,

"No," (Name) retorted, her gaze narrowing. "Make a deal with me to forget him."

A wicked grin spread across Lute's face, sending shivers down (Name)'s spine. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you," she declared, her eyes glittering with malevolent intent as she extended her gloved hand toward (Name).

With a deep breath, (Name) reached out and grasped Lute's hand in a firm shake, sealing her fate. There was no turning back now, no retreat from the path she had chosen. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with peril and pain, but she was willing to endure it all if it meant escaping the clutches of damnation.

It was a price she’d pay willingly if she could avoid joining the ranks of the sinners.

"Deal," Her voice was one of determination as her heart wept at her decision.

"Welcome to the exorcists,"

(Name) offered a silent nod of gratitude as she clenched her hands into her dress for something to calm her nerves. She had picked her fate and would find herself in the care of these two sadistic angels. But, she wouldn’t let herself be down on the first step of her journey.

“It’s a pleasure to be here.”

There was no going back now,

No escape that she was willing to take.

The only escape was forsaking her place in heaven.

And she would rather have a permanent death.

This was cross posted on A03!

The song she sings is Evermore from Beauty and the Beast from the live action.

#alastor x reader #Warofheartsseries #radio demon #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon #fan fiction

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

pick and go - 1

summary: you’ve just landed a job as athletic trainer for the manchester rugby team, the night before you start you decide to stop by a pub. you end up meeting Simon who’s rugged charm and strong form influence you to take him home, only to find out the next morning that he plays for the team. rugby au

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!athletic trainer reader

warnings: smut (mdni), mentions of alcohol, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, oral (fem rec)

a/n: so @/ task141xyn posted a fic with a rugby player!simon and I’m obsessed, I played for like 7 years so I just had to write something. So here's a little self-indulgent one-shot.

next part

The air was warm when you stepped out of your flat, your body exhausted from the hours you spent unpacking and organizing everything inside, this place was new. You weren’t a stranger to the UK, having spent a few years prior working at various clubs around England, one up in Scotland, but you wanted to explore, wanted to see what was around before your life became consumed with broken ankles and concussions.

Walking down the street you’re greeted by various chants from what felt like a hundred pubs, everyone in Manchester in high spirits thanks to their rugby team win that night. You didn’t follow the games too closely, considering your job consisted of attending every game the team played, you’d rather spend your off time not thinking about work.

The city was alive, people flooding the streets while strings of lights illuminate your path. Your eyes set on a large wooden sign, ‘The old maid’ it read, making you laugh a little at the name, you shrug your shoulders I could go for a beer. Entering the pub the climate changed instantly, it was almost stuffy, the large crowd composed of mostly large brawny men, some donning casual clothing, others dressed in red and white stripes.

You seat yourself at the bar ordering a pint from the bartender who nodded and promptly placed one in front of you. It was cold, a welcome change of temperature from the humid aroma of the pub. Working with large sweaty men for years you’d become accustomed to it, but never used to the odour omitted from them.

In a quick turn of events, your sense of smell is taken over by the scent of tobacco, whiskey, and soap as your solitary presence is invaded by a rather large figure looming beside you.

“Buy you a drink?” he asked, his accent thick as the smell of whiskey drafted from his lips.

You turn to face him, he’s gorgeous, broad and tan, dirty blonde hair framing his face that’s littered with small scars you want to run your fingers over them, eyes locking onto his dark orbs, trying to read him but they give nothing away.

“Already have one,” you say, nodding towards your beer a small smirk on your face.

“Yea but you’ve been nursing that since you got here, how about a real drink”

Your eyes gleam “What’d you have in mind”

He raises two fingers to the bartender, pointing back to his own glass before two glasses of dark liquor are placed in front of you.

“Whiskey?”

“Hard to find good bourbon here, it does the trick,” He says scooting his body closer to yours while he pushes the glass toward you.

The two of you sat drinking and talking for a few hours, somewhere between drinks 3 and 4 he had introduced himself as Simon. He was refreshing, you talked about the city, he offered to show you around one day, he was charming, enough so that by midnight you tried to excuse yourself from the pub, arguing that you had work in the morning before stopping yourself for a second, drunken eyes fluttering to his, offering to let him walk you home, his grin grew devilish as he swigged back the remainder of his drink before placing a firm hand on your back, guiding you outside.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, his touch searing as he pulled you into his frame, the now cool night air doing nothing to stop the burning that was creeping up your body. The walk back was filled with laughter, you stumbling a little over the uneven ground and Simon’s arms coming quickly to catch you, holding you close as his eyes scanned over your face.

“This is me,” you say, pointing toward your door.

You pull away from him but he’s quick to grab your face, rough palms holding you steady as he closes the distance and kisses you. You melt into him, hands coming to grip his wrists keeping him connected to you, he finally pulls back allowing you to catch a breath.

“Do you wanna come in?” You ask sheepishly, he doesn’t give you a response, instead just grabs your hand and leads you inside.

Once the door was closed his hands were on you, your waist, your hair, anything he could touch as you practically tear your clothes off, encouraging him to do the same. A mix of your clothing strewn across the floor of your flat as he kisses you, walking your body backwards till your knees collide with the bed and you fall back, he’s quick to cover your form, his broad chest and large arms caging you as your arousal pools in your belly.

“Do you have a rubber?” he asks between kisses.

You shake your head, “I’m clean, on the pill” you say as he plants kisses over your bare neck and chest, earning a wanton moan from you.

He moves down your body, sucking and kissing at the skin of your hips, his mouth rests above the line of your panties as he glances up at you, silently asking for permission.

“Please”

His smirk grows as he tears your panties down your legs, the cool air of the room coming into contact with your wet cunt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful” he whispers before using his flattened tongue to lick a stripe up your heat, earning a gasp from you.

He eats you out like a man starved, hands planted firmly on your waist to keep you from moving as your hands snake down to tangle in his hair, holding him to you. He brings his fingers to tease at your entrance as his lips suck at your clit, you’re a mess of strangled moans as he pushes two fingers into you, pumping slowly, grazing that sweet spot that has you arching into him. He can sense your need, quickening his pace as he watches you come undone on his fingers.

“So perfect doll, want you to cum on my fingers then I’ll give you what you want”

Your muscles seize as he pulls your clit into his mouth,

“Yes, fuck don’t stop” you manage through your moans.

The band in your stomach threatens to snap as he keeps his pace, watching you squirm under his grip. Your orgasm hits you and your flesh burns, your eyes clamp shut as he continues to lick you through it, watching as your hands grip the sheets beside you. He releases his mouth once he feels you unclench around his fingers, mouth travelling up to lick and tease over your hard nipples, every nerve in your body is screaming as he leans down to kiss you, remnants of your high still on his mouth.

He pumps his cock a few times before teasing at your entrance, watching the way your face contours at the stimulation, he runs the tip along your folds, coating himself in your slick before prodding at your entrance. The stretch of him is uncomfortable, his size far bigger than you’d taken before, he inches himself in slowly, allowing you time to adjust, you run your palms over his chest, stopping to hold at his shoulders as your eyes connect, he pumps into you slowly, watching your mouth fall open as strings of moans come out, you grip at his shoulders to ground yourself as he quickens his pace.

He snakes his hands under your knees to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to hit deeper inside you, you’re grabbing at the sheets, the pillows, anything you can reach as he fucks hard into you.

The air is thick with the smell of sex, your hair a mess over the bed while Simon’s body glistens in a thin layer of sweat, the room is filled with moans and grunts, the sound of skin hitting skin as Simon reaches a hand down to toy with your clit causing your body to arch against the bed. His tip is poking against your cervix, gliding deliciously against your walls as he urges you toward another orgasm.

“Fuck baby, need to feel you cum on my cock, need to feel you squeeze me”

It’s all too much, the sensation of being full of him mixed with the way his fingers circle your clit your second high hits you quick, your sight spotted with stars as you feel your blood rushing.

“That’s right, good girl”

His praise has you melting, your body moulding for his pleasure, he grabs your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest as he uses his weight to keep you folded. You can barely form words, all your senses taken over by him, your nails dig into his back, hard enough that you’re sure he’d have marks later. His pace becomes feral, he’s chasing his own high.

“Shit where do you want me”

You roll your head to look up at him, his eyes dark, forehead damp with sweat.

“Inside, please, need to feel you” you manage through your moans.

“Yea? Want me to fill this little pussy”

You nod your head,

“Need words doll”

“Yes! Fuck, please”

He smirks and with a few more deep thrusts he releases a deep grunt, shooting his load deep into you, he holds himself there for a minute, the two of you catching your breath before he pulls out, watching his seed drip from your sore cunt.

“Fuck that’s a beautiful sight,” he says before moving up the bed and laying back, arm snaking around your back to pull you close to him. You trace patterns over his chest with your finger, revelling in the way his muscles tense when you hit a ticklish spot as his fingers comb through your hair. Your exhaustion catches up to you, his steady breaths slowly lulling you to sleep.

You wake up a few hours later, streams of sunlight making their way through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you stretch your limbs and feel over the bed, eyes opening at the realization that you were alone, you huff a laugh to yourself, easier than kicking him out you think as you pick yourself up and walk over to the shower.

Your morning was quick, showering, breakfast and gathering equipment, you had to be at the stadium by 9 and it was already 8:20, you lived rather close which was nice, but having to navigate new streets would take some time.

You made it to work with a few minutes to spare, finding your office and setting up all the equipment you needed, it had become routine, packing and unpacking your things. At 9:30 you heard the laughter from the team rolling in, making their way to the changing room to get dressed for practice, a knock on the door and the head coach is poking his head in.

“Mornin’ ” he says “I’m Nick, head coach for the team, nice to meet you”

You smile and shake his hand introducing yourself.

“Teams all here if you want to meet them” he informs

You nod and let him lead the way down the hall, the room scattered with clothing and equipment, filled with tens of large men.

“Boys this is the new trainer” he introduces you as you wave politely, glancing around the room to look over the men you’d be tending to before you feel your heart drop to the floor. Your eyes land on those dark eyes, the dusty hair, and those arms. You feel your breath hitch as you try to compose yourself, a few team members standing to introduce themselves.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I’ve got some work to do but I’m in my office if anyone needs anything,” you say, turning quickly and rushing back to your office. You feel your heartbeat in your ears fuck why didn’t I ask him what he does for work. In your defence, he didn’t know your occupation either, but from his reaction, he was not as uncomfortable seeing you as you were him.

Your office has a large window that looks out onto the pitch, a perfect view of practice, you try to distract yourself making ice bags and preparing tape but you can’t focus, not when he’s jogging around the field, tackling other men like they weighed nothing, you bite your lip as your thoughts wander to the previous night, at least now you knew where his stamina came from.

A few hours pass before a young man stands in your doorway.

“Hey, one of the guys hurt his wrist, think you could help?” he asks as you nod, grabbing a small bag of tape and making your way to the room.

You step into the sight of a shirtless man, the red lines that littered his skin all too telling, you take a deep breath and make your way over, sitting on a stool in front of him before grabbing his arm to inspect his wrist.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” he says, wincing at the pain of you twisting his wrist slightly.

“You didn’t tell me you played here” you respond, eyes glancing up to lock on his, he’s calm, you hope he can’t hear your heartbeat as it thrums in your chest. Your eyes roam over his form, strong arms, abs that you have to fight every urge not to lick right there.

“It’s just a small sprain, I’ll tape it and you’ll be good”

He nods, watching you move around to tape around his wrist.

“Sorry for just leaving”

You huff a laugh, “It’s fine, I would’ve kicked you out anyway”

He quirks an eyebrow, “After I gave you the best sex you’ve ever had” he says grinning

You smile, “You’re very sure of yourself”

“It’s true though”

You shake your head, “I’m finished, get out of here” you say pushing at his shoulder.

He drops from the table, pulling his shirt back on.

“You know if you keep checking me out people are gonna catch on to this”

“This?”

He smirks, “You’re off at 5 yeah?”

You nod, eyes narrowed in question.

“I’ll see you at 5:30 then,” he says with a wink and leaves.

“You are trouble” you whisper to yourself, packing your kit back up before making your way back to your office, watching the minutes tick down.

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wheeboo · 6 months

Text

a night to remember | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which a handsome stranger at the bar catches your attention. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. twice's jihyo since she was the first person to pop up in my head) GENRE. fluff, suggestive, 1920s-ish au, one-night stand au, strangers to ?? WARNINGS. implied sexual content (no actual smut), mentions of cigarettes (reader+jihyo smokes cuz it was socially acceptable at the time) and alcohol, drinking, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.9k

notes: this is obviously based off this masterpiece of a song "a night to remember" by beabadoobee and laufey which i could never do justice but i hope you enjoy! i also impulsively wrote this whole thing btwn the hours of 12-3am so its pretty rushed oops 😭

The dim glow of the flickering marquee lights of the bar spill onto the rain-soaked streets outside, beckoning every passerby to enter into the hazy world of cigarette smoke and clinking glasses. Each swinging of the door releases a burst of warm, smoky air into the cool, drenched night. The air buzzes with the lively chatter of other people, mingling in with the sultry notes of the saxophone and the sweet melodies of the piano drifting through the heavy atmosphere of the bar.

Sat on a worn-out barstool, you bring a cigarette up to your lips and inhale deeply as your eyes flutter to a close, the smoke from the tip suspending in the air and mixing with the potent scent of whiskey also filling your lungs.

"Must you always sit like a boring bystander? Come on, we're here to have fun!" Jihyo stumbles her way right next to you, her sequined dress glistening under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

You only respond to her with a playful roll of your eyes. And with a wry smile, Jihyo plucks the cigarette from your fingers, taking a theatrical, languid drag of her own before flicking the ashes into an already well-worn tray.

You scoff lightly, taking out a fresh cigar. "Well, you already took me here without much of a choice."

Jihyo raises an eyebrow, her grin unwavering. "Afraid of a little fun?"

"Not afraid," You reply with a smirk, swiftly igniting the cigar and leaning back against the bar behind you. "Just comfortable observing the fun itself."

"If you're just going to sit there and look pretty, you might as well have someone to look pretty for, honey," Jihyo teases, her eyes momentarily scanning across the room.

A puff of smoke escapes your lips as you retort, "Easy for you to say."

"Life's too short to be a wallflower, Y/N!" Jihyo exclaims dramatically.

"The excitement will come when it wants to, not when I force it, honey," You reply cryptically.

Jihyo drinks the rest of the bourbon from your glass before taking one last, begging glance in your direction. When you don't seem to want to budge, she shoots you a faint, pert grin before turning away towards the dance floor, each step she takes accentuating the dramatic shake of her hips. You can't help but let out a low chuckle.

The bar was not usually a place where you found yourself willingly. Usually, you'd take the comfortable bubble of your place over the haughty energy of this any day. But tonight, for some reason, the familiar discomfort feels strangely comforting; and plus𑁋much to Jihyo's preference of unwinding𑁋you didn't have much of a choice either way.

From the side, you have the opportunity to simply watch. For example, there's a couple lost in each other's gaze sitting a few tables away from you. Maybe today is their first date, maybe they're rekindling a flame that has flickered in the past, or maybe they've been together for years, and this is their escape from the routines of life.

Then, down at the centre of the bar and close to the small stage at the front where a beautiful young woman stood with a microphone in front of her, there's a group of young friends sharing laughter of their own that gets lost in the music. It reaches your ears almost perfectly the more you focus on them, and it makes you smile to yourself𑁋you like seeing other people happy.

You turn yourself around on the barstool, facing the array of alcohol bottles that are all perfectly lined up together on the shelves. You cup your empty glass in your hands, swaying it lightly as the sounds of the ice clinking against the sides echo softly. The bartender who was perhaps metres away seems to notice your empty glass and gives you a nod, silently asking if you'd like a refill.

You raise your glass in acknowledgment. The bartender approaches up to you and reaches for a bottle with practiced ease, the amber liquid flowing smoothly into your glass once more.

But just as you were about to bring the cup to your lips, the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention. A new figure steps into the bar, their silhouette momentarily framed by the rain-soaked glow from outside, and you notice it's a man. A black fedora sits on his head, hiding away any view you could possibly have of his face, and he wore an elegant black suit with a bow tie that seems to glisten with a subtle sheen against the lighting of the bar.

It wasn't until he takes off his fedora that you realise you just can't seem to stop staring at him, even with all the people brushing past him like he doesn't exist and the hectic activity of the bar. His blonde hair is perfectly styled and coiffed, his features gentle yet carrying an air of both mystery and familiarity. It's almost as if you've seen him before, but nothing particular in your mind rings a bell. Perhaps while walking down the street, across the quiet room of the city's library, or something as ridiculous as your past life, his face might have crossed your path at some point.

You watch the way he scans the room, appearing a bit lost but also intrigued, as if he's searching for something or someone.

And when he eventually lets his eyes sweep across the room and to the bar, his eyes lock onto yours like a snap, and it's enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. The air seems to thicken for a moment, and you couldn't tell if it was the hint of alcohol in your system that's playing with your vision or something else. His lips play into a slight smile as his eyes hold yours, and he puts his fedora back on, before you lose track of him in the crowd in a sudden blink.

You find yourself briefly dazed, spinning around to face the bar once more. You're quick to grab onto your glass once more, seeing the way your reflection sways in the amber liquid as you take a moment to collect yourself. All it took was one look to have your head spinning and your heart racing with a man you probably would never see again.

"What can I get for you?" the voice of the bartender catches your attention.

You glance up to answer. "Oh, I don't need𑁋"

"Just two waters, please."

At the corner of your eye, a black fedora sets itself down on the counter next to you. You turn, and there he is𑁋the man from earlier, standing with a confident yet intriguing demeanour. The bartender nods and gets to work, pouring two glasses of water.

The man turns to you, eyes dark like the night itself. "Mind if I join you?" he asks, a subtle tilt to his lips. His voice is smooth like a well-played jazz tune.

You're taken aback for a moment. The bartender places two glasses of water on the bar in front of you, and you nod, almost hesitantly. The man sidles into the seat beside you, his fingers subtly brushing the tips of yours as he secures himself comfortably on the barstool, and it sends a jolt through your body, a sensation that lingers longer than it should. You catch a whiff of his cologne, both intoxicating and familiar, as it intertwines with the lingering scents of tobacco and whiskey.

"Thank you," he says, eyes never leaving yours as he lifts the glass of water to his lips. "The water is for you, by the way."

You chuckle shyly as you tap your fingers against the cold glass of water, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "Water? In a place like this?"

He smirks at this, a sight both amusing and enticing. "Well, we don't want to do anything regrettable, right?"

His words seem to crawl under your skin, and it's enough to convince you. You take a sip of the water, the cool liquid a stark comparison to the warmth spreading through all the corners of your body, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. He also takes another sip of his own water, his eyes following your every move as you nearly down the entire glass. The way he looks at you𑁋with that dark, piercing stare that heavily clashes with the soft features of his handsome face𑁋makes your heart pound in your chest.

Around you, the bar has seemingly grown quiet, the only sound the soft music playing in the background. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin, and it's taking everything in you not to choke.

He breaks the silence with a charming smile, eyes now softened. "I'm assuming you don't come here often, do you?"

You meet his gaze with a coy smile, the corners of your mouth lifting. "You're quite the detective, aren't you?" There's a satisfied look to his face, and you clasp your hands together. "but to answer your question𑁋no, not exactly. How about you?"

"Ah, I had just moved here recently, actually," he reveals, which still doesn't seem to help the fact that you swear you've seen him before. It still draws you in, of course, and you can't help but wonder more about the mystery surrounding him𑁋both the one in his eyes and the one lingering in the air. The dim light of the bar casts a subtle glow on his features, and you find yourself captivated by the play of shadows and highlights dancing on his face.

"Welcome to the city then," You say it like a grand gesture. "It could be quite daunting at times, but you'll get used to it."

His gaze doesn't waver, and there's a quiet intensity in the way he studies you. "Perhaps I could get used to it faster if I had the right company."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the proximity between you two. The bar, the jazz music, the muted conversations around you𑁋all fade into the background as if the world has momentarily narrowed down to the space between your barstools.

"Smooth," You reply, a half-smile playing on your lips. "Is that your usual approach?"

He chuckles. "Only in certain situations."

A sly grin forms on your face. "And is this one of those situations?"

He tilts his head slightly as if in thought. "If you want it to be, of course."

All you could do is let out a soft laugh𑁋a laugh that blends with the faint jazz music playing in the background, a laughter that indeed signals the beginning of an unpredictable night.

"To new beginnings?" You raise your nearly-empty glass of water up to him.

He raises his glass in response, and the crystal-clear water catches the ambient lighting above, creating a small, sparkling spectacle on the surface of the bar counter.

"To new beginnings," he echoes.

The next minutes fly by in a breeze. Usually, letting people into your little bubble only causes for you to raise your guard up a bit more. You certainly didn't expect an utter stranger to intrigue you this much, just like a moth to a flame, especially in a place you never frequented to attend. You don't even mind the way his hand somehow found its rightful place on top of yours as you simply talked, or the way a glass of water can make you feel more alive than the strongest drink in the entire bar. And instinctively, your eyes would focus on the way his lips move he as he spoke, just barely catching all the words leaving his mouth.

When the music shifts to a more intimate tone, he looks into your eyes, a subtle invitation lingering in the air.

"Care to share a dance?" he asks, and the simple invitation is enough to course that warmth of anticipation through you once more.

The decision lingers in the air and his hand is extended towards you, a heartbeat away from being made.

And without a word, you slide off the barstool, your hand finding its place in his. He locks his grip on yours, and drags you in the direction of the small dance floor, the pungent smells of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey lingering as you weave through the crowd together.

When he suddenly pulls you closer to him, the scent of his cologne envelops you. His hand rests securely on the small of your back, guiding you with a subtle yet confident touch, the warmth of his fingers seeping through the fabric of your outfit. It sends a thrill through your body that heightens every single one of your senses.

As the music reaches its spirited crescendo, he spins you gently, the movement endearingly awkward, but you both don't care. When he brings you back into his arms, you're suddenly close to him way more than before, enough for his lips to be so close to yours that you can feel his warm breath against your skin.

The song slowly approaches its end, but he doesn't let you go. Yet just as the distance between your lips disappears, he stops. A teasing grin plays on his face, and he pulls away slightly, though your gaze doesn't intend to move away from his mouth.

"You're one of those," You remark airily.

He spins you around again, letting his fingers dance on the skin of your back. "Guilty as charged."

As the song draws to a close, he dips you in a move that feels straight out of a film. Your heart races, and when he pulls you back up, his lips are dangerously close to yours again. But this time, he doesn't hold back, and the kiss is a slow burn, gentle yet intensely passionate. One of his hands come to delicately cup your face, and the other brings you flush against him.

When the kiss breaks, he smiles, a genuine and warm expression that makes your heart flutter.

"Tell me your name," he whispers, breath caressing your cheek.

You meet his gaze, a playful glint in your eyes. "Maybe we’re more similar than you believe."

This only makes him lean in once again.

"Let's keep it that way, then," he suggests, grinning against your ear as if sharing a secret meant for only you. "Care to get out of here?"

It doesn't anything more than that for you to agree with a smile. Without uttering a word, you nod, your hand still entwined with his as you allow him to guide you through the dissipating crowd towards the exit of the bar. He ushers you outside, and the cool droplets that linger on the city's surfaces glisten under the streetlights.

The lively jazz bars highlight at the heart of the city within the late hours of the night, and his place isn't much farther than you anticipated thankfully.

It all happens so fleetingly𑁋one moment you're outside the door to his place, and another you're within the comfort of his bedroom, kissing him so feverishly with your fumbling hands on the buttons of his suit until you both fall on the bed, that the world outside seems to vanish. And when his hand makes contact with your skin for the first time, you could only gasp.

This is a night you will remember, and you'll make sure of it.

You dress yourself back in your clothes in the hushed morning. A comfortable silence lingers in the room, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the waking city. The rain outside has completed ceased away, bathing the bedroom in a soft glow of dawn.

The events of the night replay in your mind like a reel of a film𑁋the moment your eyes first met, the touches of his hands against yours, the kiss you shared on the door floor, and the whispers of sweet nothings to your ear right underneath the sheets you sat atop.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks from behind, the huskiness of his voice making you pause.

You can sense the unspoken words hanging in the air𑁋the silent acknowledgment that this is a chapter that closes as the sun rises.

"Unfortunately, I must," You reply with a wistful smile, reaching for your shoes. "Real life calls."

He sits up on his bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, and you can't help but admire the way the morning light dances on the bareness of his body, his disheveled hair, and the remnants of the night before etched into his beautiful skin. There’s a subtle tension that crackles in the air, and he clears his throat.

"Will I… see you again?"

You turn to face him, the playfulness in your eyes replaced by a hint of contemplation. The smile still doesn’t fade away from your lips.

"Who knows? Life is full of surprises, after all."

He watches you for some time as you fully dress yourself, a gaze struggling between the line of intimacy and distance, letting his eyes soak in your figure.

"Do you regret it at all?"

A pause, like a second and an eternity rolled into one. The room holds a quiet acknowledgment, a shared understanding that some moments are meant to be lived fully, without dwelling on what comes after, while others are meant to come and go like a shooting star. You aren’t entirely sure which this falls under.

"No," You answer simply, before setting your feet on the floor and standing up. "Not at all."

Another round of silence follows as you gather the rest of your belongings, trying to ignore the bittersweet ache in your chest threatening to cut you open. You feel his gaze lingering on you as you move about the room, still feeling those embers of the night before dancing upon your skin, as if they're fighting their way to linger a little longer, to save every last trace of the moments you shared.

"Joshua," he states as if in response to the unspoken question hanging in the air. "Joshua Hong."

His name escapes his lips like a secret, and you savour the sound of it, committing it to memory, committing him to memory. You ponder the thought of what it would be like to have your name said at the tip of his tongue in some other distant, intimate moment.

"Y/N," You whisper your name in return, the final piece of the exchange. "Y/N L/N."

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161 notes · View notes

applepiewinchesters · 1 year

Text

A Moment of Peace (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.5K+

Tags: Mentions of character deaths, angst, comfort, crotchety old man Joel

REQUESTS ARE OPEN: I’d be happy to write for other Pedro characters as well such as Javi and Whiskey! :)

Joel hadn’t felt peace in his life since the night his daughter died in his arms. It hardened the softness in his heart, turned him into the man everyone feared, if they knew what was good for them anyway. Now he was all gritted teeth and seemingly permanent frown lines. Surviving was what mattered. He did his jobs and otherwise kept his head down.

But then you showed up, taking on two armed guards at the perimeter to get into the safety of the quarantine zone and eventually being granted asylum, and you seemed to make it your mission to annoy the older man.

You met Joel doing odd jobs around the area for ration cards, like everyone else. You annoyed him to no end, asking him a new dumb, at least in his opinion dumb, question every day. Most of the time the daily question would go unanswered. All you ever really got was a grunt in return.

But then Tess, for a reason Joel could not understand, began entertaining your questions, maybe the same thing every day was finally getting to her. She told you her favorite color, song, food, movie. You had been young when the outbreak started, younger than Joel and Tess, at least. You loved to hear stories of what everything had been like before.

You only had flashes of a life you had before. A house, a school, a woman you assumed was your mother. None of the women in the group you’d been in for the last 12 years was her though, so you could only assume she had died in the initial chaos.

Then Tess invited you along on one of her and Joel’s smuggling missions, much to Joel’s dismay, Tess reasoned the two could use a fresh set of eyes. But in the end, you ended up being quite good with a gun, even saving Joel’s ass from a couple lone clickers.

A begrudging “Thanks," had been sent your way as Joel stepped over one of the bodies, brushing past you. You’d beamed at him when he did so, and for some reason, his face had flushed, something Tess spotted and teased him about in his apartment the next day.

“You’re sweet on her,” Tess had said over her glass of bourbon.

Joel only glared at his partner, “Am not,” he grumbled.

“Whatever you say, Texas,” Tess had said, only making Joel’s frown deepen.

Maybe he liked you, maybe he didn’t, it wasn’t like there was much room in this world for love anyway.

As the years went by Joel’s annoyance with you changed to an odd fondness, at least odd to him anyway. He found himself glaring at the men in the quarantine zone who flirted with you, when they’d catch him glaring, they’d almost always end the conversation and quickly disappear.

When you would look behind you to see what had spooked them, Joel would always be in your line of sight, pretending to be busy with something else. You’d even once caught him pretending to check the time on his long-broken watch before walking away in the direction of a dead-end street.

You confronted Joel that night at his apartment, demanding to know why he thought he could act like your father scaring away any man other than himself from being within five feet of you. For the first time since knowing Joel, you watched him scramble for the right words. The usually stoic and hardened man was stuttering like a teenage boy.

When you stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm to get him to calm down, you watched his face grow red, and it clicked. Much to Joel’s dismay, you began giggling. Of course, an old man like him had no chance with you. His face only grew hotter, and his fists clenched at his sides.

But then you’d leaned up and placed a kiss on Joel’s cheek, his beard slightly scratchy against your lips. That was all he needed to turn his head and press his lips to yours, hands unclenching and moving to your waist.

You woke in his bed the next morning, Joel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to his chest. Tess just so happened to see you leave his apartment that morning, practically kidnapping you from your assigned job of the day to learn all the details.

Now, two years later Tess was gone and you and Joel had been tasked with possibly the most important smuggling job of your lives.

It turns out the Fireflies had been keeping a rather important young girl under their wing, Ellie. She was immune to the fungus causing the outbreak, something Joel was wary of, making the girl show him the bite on her arm practically every hour to make sure it hadn’t worsened. The original goal had been to get Ellie to an extraction team at the capitol in Boston, which only ended in finding the whole group dead, and losing Tess.

Joel decided the next best thing would be to find his brother Tommy in Wyoming. You suggested going to Bill and Frank, who could possibly help with getting a car. So, you, Joel, and Ellie began the ten-mile trek to Lincoln.

Ellie was quiet most of the trip. You could tell she at least half blamed herself for what had happened to Tess the day before. Tess had sacrificed her last moments so that you three could get away, she believed that Ellie could be the answer to fixing the fucked up world you were all living in.

You’d had to practically force Ellie from the building as she struggled against you and screamed that you couldn’t leave Tess behind. But the other woman was already dead, the second she’d been infected.

Ellie trailed behind you and Joel, watching as you interlaced your fingers with his. A gagging sound behind the two of you made you turn, Ellie making a grossed out face at the two of you.

“Are you guys dating?” she asked, scrunching her nose.

You laughed as Joel dropped your hand, a bit embarrassed, “Yes, technically.”

“Technically?” Joel asked, looking over at you, slightly offended.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” you laughed, playfully pushing the man slightly.

“Isn’t he like seventy?” Ellie asked, obviously still grossed out.

That made you laugh again, harder this time, as Joel grumbled something about “abandoning that kid in the woods.”

“55” you corrected Ellie, turning back around to face Ellie, apparently that answer didn’t curb her reaction as her face held the same expression from before.

You shook your head, smiling and turning back around, grabbing Joel’s hand once again, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment while you walked. Joel squeezed your hand in return, not a huge fan of public displays of affection, but returning it nonetheless.

The three of you arrived at Bill and Frank’s around midafternoon. The sun still shone but was dipping below the trees, casting pretty shadows on the ground. Ellie looked around in wonder as Joel put in the code for the military grade gate surrounding the small town.

You hoped Bill was in the mood for company, he’d gotten crankier since Frank’s illness had gotten worse, but who could blame him. Those two had a love story most only dreamed about, you could only hope you and Joel could have a little slice of heaven like this one day.

You and Ellie followed Joel to the house. It was oddly quiet, usually you could hear music playing, or even the older couple bickering playfully.

Joel knocked on the door, “Bill?” he called.

Your eyebrows knit together at the lack of response, you reached around Joel, trying the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. Bill was too paranoid, rightfully so, he always kept it locked even when he was home.

Joel moved you behind him, drawing his gun from the holster at his side, opening the front door all the way and calling Bill’s name again. Joel walked inside, you and Ellie following closely behind.

“Holy shit,” Ellie marveled at the home, it was probably the nicest place she’d ever been in, even if it was just some cranky old man’s house.

“I’ll check upstairs,” you said, drawing your own gun as you walked up the stairs.

Joel told Ellie to stay by the door while he searched the main floor of the home. You found nothing but empty rooms upstairs, so you headed back down. When you rounded the corner to the dining room, you found Ellie holding an envelope.

“It was in the table,” Ellie explained. When she handed you the envelope you could see “To Whomever (Probably Joel)” written on the front.

“Joel!” you called, tearing open the envelope and opening up the letter the was inside.

Joel appeared in the doorway, “What is it?” he asked you, and you began to read.

August 29th, 2023

If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left the window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight.

Your throat tightened, but you continued.

I’m guessing you found this Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe. Take anything you need. The code to the bunker is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like were 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. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep Y/N and T…

You stopped, choking on Tess’s name. Joel grabbed the letter from you, reading the rest to himself. He turned suddenly, pulling open the front door and leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, sliding off your backpack and following Joel out the door.

He hadn’t gone far, he was standing on the front lawn, breathing heavy.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, approaching Joel and touching his arm gently.

When the man turned to you, you could see his eyes were glistening.

“I…” Joel choked out, “I can’t.”

“I know,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting him bury his face into your shoulder, arms locking around you.

Joel breathed deep, shuddering as he attempted to curb the breakdown. He hated crying, especially in front of other people, in front of you.

But there had been countless nights where you’d held him after a nightmare. Before that though it had taken eight months into your relationship with him before he stopped locking himself in the bathroom, taking swigs from a bottle of smuggled liquor until the images of his dead little girl finally faded.

Joel’s hands gripped at your jacket, attempting to ground himself, to assure that you were there.

“We’ll be alright,” you told Joel, rubbing his back.

Joel only nodded against your shoulder, before lifting his head to look at you. You reached up, wiping away a few stray tears on his cheeks. He shook his head, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He should be comforting you, not the other way around.

“I’m sorry baby,” Joel told you, making you shake your head.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” you reassured.

Joel leaned down, pecking your lips softly before taking your hand and heading back inside.

You both found Ellie sitting at the dining room table, messing with a loose string on her shirt.

“Show me your arm,” Joel told her.

The girl quickly stood, rolling up her sleeves and showing Joel her bite, which hadn’t changed, Joel nodded, signaling he was satisfied with what he saw.

“I’m gonna check on a few things,” Joel told you, making you nod.

His next sentence was aimed at Ellie, “You stay put, what she says goes”.

Ellie only nodded as Joel headed back out the front door, you sighed, leaning against the doorframe to the dining room.

“Is he always like that?” Ellie asked you, not meeting your gaze.

“Like what?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Crotchety,” Ellie answered, shrugging.

You huffed out a laugh, “He’s lost a lot is all, takes a toll on you, on everyone. You probably just remind him of…”.

Cutting yourself off, you decided Sarah’s was not your story to tell, not without Joel’s permission.

“Of what?” Ellie inquired.

Shaking your head, you pushed off the doorframe, “Not my story to tell kid.”

Ellie only nodded, accepting your answer. She looked solemn, aged beyond her years. This was no world for a kid, you could only imagine what her mother had been thinking bringing her into it.

A thought crossed your mind and you smiled at Ellie, “There’s hot water, at least, there should be,” you told her, remembering the last time you’d been here and had helped Tess with the dishes from dinner, “there’s at least three bathrooms upstairs, pick one.”

Your smile widened as Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, getting up from the table and bounding up the stairs.

Laughing softly, you listened until the shower turned on before walking across the entry way to the living room area, where the old piano sat. Frank had taught you a few songs when you’d first visited with Joel and Tess. Your eyes watered at the thought of the kind man but you pushed the tears down and you sat, placing your fingers on the keys.

You lightly played one of the songs Frank had taught you, one of his favorites from the 90’s, “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith.

A bit of time must have passed because you jumped when you felt a sudden hand on your shoulder but relaxed at the feeling of a kiss being pressed to the top of your head. Joel.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack,” you commented, playing random chords now.

“Sorry baby, just got done fixing a truck battery,” Joel told you.

His hands were covered if what you assumed was oil or grease, and you cringed.

“Oh, you’re definitely washing up before we leave,” you told him.

“Where’s the kid?” he asked suddenly, looking behind him.

“Shower, come on, our turn,” you told Joel, standing from the piano bench and taking his hand and pulling him up the stairs.

You knocked at the bedroom door at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?” came Ellie’s voice.

“Joel and I are gonna clean up too alright? Be good,” you called through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the girl called back, making you smile and shake your head before pulling Joel towards what had previously been the master bedroom until Frank could no longer make it up the stairs and the two men began using the downstairs guest room as the master.

Pushing open the door you’d left ajar earlier, you led Joel inside before shutting the door behind you and pulling off your jacket, tossing it onto the bed.

Your boots were next as you walked towards the bathroom. It was clean save for a bit of dust. A large clawfoot tub sat under the large window, the shower was in the corner of the room.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, you turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature before stoppering the tub. You stood, beginning to take off the rest of your clothing, your shirt going first.

You looked up, noticing Joel watching you, unmoving.

“I ain’t getting in there,” Joel protested, pointing to the tub as you unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down your legs.

“Yes, you are, it will be nice” you reasoned, pulling off your bra.

“Nope,” the older man protested again.

Once you were fully undressed you walked towards Joel, reaching up and beginning to unbutton his denim shirt.

“You take em’ off or I will,” you teased, making Joel crack a smile.

“Fine, fine,” he said, his hands replacing yours, attempting the grumpy old man façade, but that smile never left his face.

You eased into the now full tub after turning off the faucet. Once submerged you rest your chin on your arm on the edge of the tub as you watched Joel strip off the rest of his clothing.

Shimming forward a bit, you happily made room for Joel, who climbed in behind you, his muscles relaxing in the hot water. He had to admit, it did feel great.

Joel wrapped an arm around your waist, easily pulling you back against his chest. You settled in and rested your head on his shoulder, your hand covering his that was wrapped loosely around you.

You sighed contentedly, turning to look at Joel, who pressed a kiss to your forehead.

This was the feeling he was missing, the peace he’d been searching for, even if just for a moment.

“I love you sweetheart,” he whispered against your skin.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Love you too.”

A/N: Alright so this is is the first TLOU fic I've written but I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think! ❤

#the last of us #joel tlou #tlou #tlou series #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #ellie the last of us #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #tess servopoulos

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ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

maroon pt. ii (j.h.s.)

a/n: welcome back to kylie’s pure self-indulgence. you really thought i’d write a part two without writing in some angst? anyways there’s a playlist and a pinterest board for these two (because of course there is expect nothing less from me) anyways do you want a part 3 i’d write one

summary: The aftermath of the night you spent with Jake.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | maroon pt. i

warnings: angst, swearing, implied/referenced sex, misunderstanding, family issues, divorced parents, age gap

word count: 3,943

“and i wake with your memory over me/that’s a real fuckin’ legacy to leave”

The first thing you realize when you wake up is that you’re alone.

Which shouldn’t be as alarming as it is until you realize that it’s not your bed you’re in.

And it’s not your shirt that you’re wearing.

You groan, sitting up in the bed as you look around the room, recognizing the familiar soreness over your body.

The Navy shirt you’re wearing isn’t like the old ones you’ve stolen from your Dad, frayed and filled with holes, the ones that smell like cheap detergent you got from the grocery store in your college town.

No, this shirt is soft and clean and smells faintly like bourbon and leather.

It smells like Jake.

You take a shuddering breath, realizing what you’ve done.

You quickly rifle through the list of people you could ask to bail you out, ones that wouldn’t ask you any questions (at least not immediately) as you lean over to the nightstand where your phone is sat.

The house is quiet, you note, as you scroll through your contacts, searching for the person you know who won’t hesitate.

Reuben.

You and Reuben had gone to high school together, always sort of circling each other without ever really meeting until your senior year when you had both taken a concurrent enrollment class in Political Science.

Penny had also hired him, a few months before she did you, as extra help on the weekends. He worked a bit more now that he’d graduated from San Diego State University and it was how the two of you had reconnected after years of not talking.

As a “reformed frat bro”, Reuben had always told you that if you ever needed him to pull you out of situation, bad date or otherwise, he’d do it, no questions asked. It wasn’t a favor you hadn’t planned on invoking until now.

I fucked up.

I did something stupid and I need you to come pick me up.

Your eyes flicker to the door as your teeth worry over your bottom lip, the grey bubble popping up almost immediately.

Send me the address.

I’ll be there in ten.

You swipe over the keyboard, sending him the street name you recall seeing on your way back to Jake’s place last night before clicking the phone shut.

Tossing it on the bed, you pull Jake’s shirt off of you, reaching for your pants on the floor. You tug them on, pulling your top on not long after. You grab your phone from the bed before grabbing the boots that had been chucked by the door when you had come in last night.

You pull the bedroom door open, slipping down the stairs hurriedly. You can hear someone in the kitchen but you don’t stay long enough to find out what they’re doing, slipping out the front door as quietly as you can before heading up the road.

You feel slightly silly, fleeing from Jake’s like this as you half-jog up the hill barefoot, but you’d rather end it here before Jake could tell you that you were a nice girl and he had a good time but he didn’t see this moving forward.

It was silly, this schoolgirl crush you’d developed on Jake.

He was a grown man and he certainly wasn’t going to settle down and end his womanizer ways for some fresh faced college girl who had no idea what she wanted to do with her life.

Reuben’s mini-van, the car he’d inherited from his Mom at sixteen, that was barely hanging on, that he named Dolly after Dolly Parton, turns the corner and pulls to the sidewalk as Reuben spots you. You pull the front passenger door open before the car has ever really stopped, earning you a look of surprise from the brunette.

“You good?”

You shake your head, breathless as shame and embarrassment crawls through you. “No.”

“Are you hurt in anyway?”

“Aside from my pride?”

“Do we need the hospital or the police?”

“No.”

He nods, pulling away from the curb. It’s quiet for a few moments as he drives down the road before turning left to head to your house.

“If my either of my Dad’s ask, you picked me up last night from the bar after I got wasted and Alice left me there.” You say, keeping your eyes locked on to the road in front of you. He chuckles.

“You might want to hide those then if you want that story to be believable.” He says, nodding his head toward your chest.

You glance down before pulling the sun visor down and flipping the little mirror open. It reveals a chest littered with hickeys and you briefly recall that Jake had left more hidden by your top.

“Dammit Jake.” You hiss, flipping the sun visor back up.

“Jake? Jake as in Jake Seresin? Jake Seresin as Bagman?” He asks, eyes going wide. When you don’t reply, Reuben lets out a low whistle. “You bagged Hangman. Can I say I’m proud?”

You toss Reuben a withering look before twisting around in your seat, searching for the sweatshirt Reuben keeps in the car. It’s his sweatshirt from when he played lacrosse in high school, something you teased him endlessly for. He glances at you through the rearview mirror.

“On the floor behind your chair.”

You grasp onto the black material, tugging the sweatshirt over your head as best you can with the seatbelt on. It doesn’t smell like Jake’s shirt had, smelling distantly of ocean water and McDonald’s fries.

You blow a stray piece of hair from your face as Reuben laughs at you.

“I thought you didn’t do hookups or one night stands.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you still went for it. You’ve been pining after Seresin since you got back in town. Good for you.”

You groan, sliding down in your seat. “It’s not good for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not- I don’t do one night stands because I get attached. I hurt my feelings and I was already attached. I was stupid. I’m not the kind of girl he wants.”

“Did he say that?”

You shrug, pulling your legs up into your chest as Reuben turns down the road leading to your house. “I don’t want to talk anbout this anymore.”

He glances at you but does’t say anything as he drives down your street.

After your parent’s divorce the summer before freshman year of high school, your Dad’s relationship with your Uncle Mav had quickly stopped being a secret. He and Mav had bought a house together your sophomore year, a nice sized house that sat beachfront in a gated community. It was a nice place, with two floors and easy access to the beach from your back porch. It was nicer than your Mom’s place, which was the same one-story, two-bedroom, one bath house you’d grown up in.

This house was so much easier to come home to than your Mom’s had been, despite the fact that in high school, you’d bounced between your friend houses and the park more than you did either of your parent’s homes.

Your Mom had checked out not long after the divorce, disappearing entirely after you started college. What had been your Dad and Mav’s house had quickly just become your home, spending Christmases and breaks with the pair.

You didn’t make a habit of going home too much though, the house consistently being empty with your Dad’s long hours and Mav’s deployments.

Still, they’d promised that after graduation, things would be different. With the Dagger team in San Diego, with Bradley and Mav permanently in San Diego, your Dad had promised they would be better.

Reuben gently shuts off the ignition in the car. “You opening with me tonight?”

You nod.

“Well, why don’t you go in and take a shower and change and then we can go to lunch. Get you some hangover food.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not hungover. I think I had half a White Claw last night and that was it.”

Reuben pauses as he pulls his seatbelt off. “So you hooked up with Bagman completely, stone-cold sober... and you still think it was, what? A mistake?”

You sigh, pulling your own seatbelt off you. “I said I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He follows you out of the car, door locking shut behind you as he follows you up the pavement towards the house. You reach for the doorknob, realizing it’s unlocked as you push it open, the cool air of the AC welcoming you into the home.

Mav spots you first, smiling as he unloads the dishwasher. “Hey hon. We were gonna see you you wanted to go to breakfast but you weren’t here and then Alice came by to see if you made it home after last night.”

You shrug, tucking your hands in the pocket on the sweatshirt. “Sorry, I got super fucked up last night and Reuben had picked me up and just took me to his place.”

“Hey Reuben.” Your Dad says, coming in from the back porch, watering can in his hand. “Hey kiddo.”

“The line dancing was so boring you had to drink to forget.” Reuben says, coming around you to sit at one of the chairs at the kitchen island. You snort, rubbing your eyes.

“Something like that. Hey, I think my shoes are still in your car.”

Reuben shrugs, pulling his phone out from his jean pocket. “You can grab them later. Do you still want to change and go get lunch?”

You nod. “If that’s okay with you.” You say, looking to your Dad.

He hums. “Told you kiddo. You’re welcome to come and go as you please.”

You shrug. “Still feel like I should ask. Give me like 20 minutes so I can shower?”

“Take as long sa you need, I know you still have some of those chai cookies Amelia made so I’m gonna go dig through your pantry for those.”

“Fourth shelf on the left.” Maverick says, setting a plate in the dishwasher.

Reuben gives you a goofy smile, sliding off the chair. “Perfect.”

You breath out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you turn to go up the stairs.

“Bagman’s been watching you all night.” Reuben whispers in your ear as you glance up at him from where you’re leaned over behind the bar.

“Yeah, I know.” You whisper back, not daring to spare the blond a glance. “Coyote too.”

He hums, curls bouncing as he stands up. “Hey, after we’re off, you wanna go get In’N’Out and then watch the High School Musical movies?”

You snort, sliding the beer you’re pouring across the bar. “Out of a frat for five months and suddenly you’re all for nights in?”

He shrugs, leaning across the bar as he crosses his arms. “For a Saturday night, it’s pretty slow.”

“Reuben.” You say, giving him a look. “I know what you’re after here and I’m not gonna give it to you.”

He sighs. “Fine, no High School Musical or In’N’Out. Be that way.”

“Why’re you watching High School Musical?” Amelia asks, a confused look on her face as you both turn.

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, Mom said to tell you’re both free to go.”

You glance at your watch. “It’s only 7:30?”

She gives a half-shrug. “Yeah, Mom said she’s got it from here tonight. I’m just waiting for Ruby to come pick me up.”

Reuben nods, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Well, have a fun night little Benjamin.” Reuben turns to you as you both move to the back to clock out. “I’m still serious about the In’N’Out and High School Musical, though. I won’t ask you about him, I swear.”

You’re two glasses of Peach Bellini from Aldi, a burger and animal-style fries, and two and a half High School Musical movies into the night when your front door opens. You assume it’s your Dads as neither you or Reuben move.

“I wish someone loved me like Troy Bolton loved Gabriella.” You say, your chin tucked into the blanket you’re curled up under.

Reuben snorts. “C’mon, he sets the standard. Pizza and chocolate strawberries? Who could ask for more.”

“Chocolate strawberries and pizza and you consider that romance? The bar is in hell.” Comes Jake’s voice from behind you.

You shift, seeing Jake standing in your living room. He’s still dressed in his work khakis and you force yourself to look away before you get too caught up in admiring how good he looks, pulling yourself off the couch as Reuben pauses the movie.

“What’re you doing here, Bagman? It’s like 1 am.”

He bristles as you round the couch, following after you. “We need to talk.”

“I should go.” Reuben says, standing up from the couch. “Um, bye.” The sound of the front door opening and closing follows Rueben not too long after as Jake places his hands on his hips.

“Let’s talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Why’d you leave this morning?”

You turn again, heading into the kitchen and towards the fridge. “Isn’t that what you do after a one-night stand?”

“No. Not us. Not after- You didn’t tell me your dad was Admiral Kazansky!”

You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head as you grab a beer from the fridge. “Not exactly a secret. Thought that was the whole point of you going after me.”

“What?”

You pop the beer open, finally turning to face him. “Thought that was the point. You sleep with me, you’ve just found one more way to piss off good ol’ Pops. Get under his skin.”

“That’s really what you think of me?”

“And when have you ever shown me any different Jake?”

He pauses. “Last night, that was real. And I- I really like you.” His voice drops to a whisper as he takes a few tentative steps towards you.

“Yeah, I’m sure you loved the chase Seresin. And now that you got what you wanted, the satisfaction that you were the one to fuck Admiral Kazinsky’s only daughter and child, you win.”

“That’s not- That’s not what any of this was about!” He exclaims, looking around in bewilderment.

“Then why’d you leave me alone this morning?”

“I was-” He bows his head. “It’s stupid.”

“No, tell me. I want to know!”

“I was making you breakfast! Okay? I was making you breakfast because I remember Rooster told me one time you liked to make yourself breakfast sandwiches. I was making you breakfast. And I was hoping that while we ate breakfast, we could sit down and talk about this like adults because I really like you.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a second. Making me breakfast? You do that for all your hookups or just the ones you want to keep in your back pocket?”

“What the hell are you even talking about? I was going to ask you out on a date! I- I wasn’t even sure if you’d go for me, a guy who’s a decade older than you, that’s why I never said anything before!”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from Mr. Carved By the Greek Gods.”

“Why are you searching for the worst meaning in everything I say?” He asks, throwing his hands up in frustration

“Because!” You snap.

“Because why?”

“You don’t get it, Jake. You don’t know what it’s like to know you were only born because of what your Dad couldn’t have. You have no idea what it’s like to grow up with your parents in a loveless marriage. You have no idea what it’s like to be the kid who everyone tells their kids to be friends with so you’ll tell your Dad their family is cool and maybe he’ll give their Dad a promotion. You have no idea what’s it’s like to not be invited around because people are afraid you’ll snitch. You have no idea what it’s like to be cozied up to just for a promotion. You have no idea what it’s like, to be a kid of one of the greats, with the expectation to become a great yourself. You have no idea what it’s like to have a legacy you have to follow knowing you don’t want a single piece of it. You have no idea what it’s like to know that the kid that isn’t even theirs will always be better than you because he took the path you didn’t want.

Happy endings don’t happen for me, Jake Seresin. So why should I pretend this is any different?”

Jake stares at you as tears roll down your cheeks in fat lumps. The front door opens again, Maverick’s voice echoing through the house. “Kiddo? You home?”

He comes into view as you lift up the collar of the sweatshirt you’re wearing to wipe away some of the tears.

“Is everything okay?” You hear your Dad ask.

“I was just leaving.” Jake says cautiously and you hear him walk towards the front door as you avoid eye contact with Maverick.

“What’s going between you and Lieutenant Sereisn?” Your Dad asks sharply and you sigh, dropping your head.

“Nothing. I’m going to bed.” You say, sucking in a deep breathe as you walk past them.

“So... I was thinking.” You say, pulling the carton of orange chicken from the plastic bag.

“Dangerous thing in this family.” Maverick jokes, pulling out the chopsticks.

“What if I quit my job at the Hard Deck?” You ask, keeping your eyes locked on the meat in front of you.

Your Dad hums as he opens the teriyaki broccoli. “I distinctly remember us agreeing that you would have a job if you were going to live here after graduation. Things don’t just get handed to you, you know this.”

“I remember the job being a suggestion, not a requirement.”

“What’s wrong with the Hard Deck?” Maverick asks, pulling out his chair out from the table. “Someone giving you trouble or something?”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that. I just want to try out something else, you know? Like volunteering with the Midway, like we talked about over winter break?”

“You could do both, but you’re not quitting your job. Not if you expect to live here, nope, no way.”

“Ice...” Maverick whispers under his breath. “Honey, he doesn’t mean that-”

“No Mav, I’m serious. My parents didn’t hand me everything and I’m certainly not going to hand her anything either.”

“No, no one gets handed anything unless your name is Bradley Bradshaw in which case he gets handed everything because Mav and Ice feel guilty over his Dad’s death.”

Bradley’s head flies up from where he’s picking through his stir fry at your words.

“That’s not fair.” Your Dad says sternly, pointing his chops ticks at you. “We paid for UVA because the agreement was that he’d join the Navy after he went.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to be in the Navy!” You snap.

“And that’s fine-” Maverick tries, voice soft.

“Is it? Because I’m starting to get the idea that it’s not.”

“We should leave.” Comes bob’s voice, a quiet whisper. “This is family stuff, we shouldn’t-” You look over to see some of the pilots standing near the front door where the dining room is.

You huff, chair screeching against the floor as you stand up. “Don’t bother. They’ve got their happy Navy family. Doesn’t include eme.” You push past Hangman and Coyote on your way out, front door slamming behind you.

As you walk down the sidewalk, you can hear Jake’s voice call out for you.

“C’mon, where are you going? You don’t even have any shoes on.”

“Go away Jake.” You call back, wincing at the heat of the pavement, baking in the San Diego sun all day.

“Come here, will you at least put shoes on for me?” You turn, seeing him holding your flip flops that you usually chuck precariously by the front door that Maverick always trips over when he comes home. “Please.”

You sigh, holding out your hands as he tosses you the shoes. You slip them on as a silence settles between the two of you.

“This wasn’t always just about me.”

You let you a bitter chuckle, letting your arms fall to your side. “Nope, you caught me. I actually have daddy issues which is insane considering all he’s ever done is love me.”

“Just because they love doesn’t make them any less absent.” He says, taking a cautious step towards you. “You know, the house always feels too quiet when they’re gone. You grow up knowing you got to be just like them, knowing they’ll see anything less as a failure, even if they’d never say that out loud. I know you, a little too well. Because you were wrong that night. I know you. I know what it’s like. You’re at least better than me and put your foot down and told them that wasn’t what you wanted.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that. I’m 22, I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and here I am picking fights with my brother figure just because I’m mad for something he can’t control.”

He finally closes the distance. He reaches out for your cheek, guiding you gaze up to meet his sea-glass eyes. “I should’ve done this right from the beginning. Ask you out on a date, bring you flowers, take you somewhere nice. I never should’ve let you think this was just a one-night stand. I just always liked how easy it was with you. How fun it was. I reveled in the fact that you’d blush when I would flirt with you. Your cheeks would go scarlet, almost maroon, you know? But you were just-” He shakes his head. “I just liked you.”

“Jake...” You whisper, pulling back from him. “We’re over a decade apart from each other.”

“I know that.”

“My Dad would kill you.”

“I know that too. But hell, darling, I’m willing to try for you.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this right now.” You say, shaking your head.

He sighs. “You’re right. We’re not doing this right now. We can discuss this later. Right now, you need a friend. And because in all your storming out glory, I’m assuming you forgot your phone, so... can I call anyone for you? Reuben? Bob, maybe?”

You shake your head again, reaching out for his hand.

“You, Jake. I just want you.”

He watches the door shut behind Jake as he turns back to the group of pilots. “Anyone want to cough up as to why my daughter’s acting so weird?”

Natasha throws up her hand in defense. “I know nothing.”

Mickey shrugs, looking at Bob. “She hasn’t said anything to us.”

He eyes Javy, who’s suddenly staring the cream white ceiling like it’s the most interesting ceiling he’s seen in his life. He steps a few feet closer to him, catching the man’s attention.

“Lieutenant Machado?” He shrugs, sticking in his hands in his pockets as he continues to walk forward. “You want to cough up to what’s going on between Lieutenant Seresin and my daughter?”

“Not particularly. Bro codes and all that.”

He fixes Javy with a look. “Hm, okay. And what about the code of doing what your commanding officer asks?”

Javy withers under his look. “They um- they hooked up. Slept together.”

It’s dead silent in the room for a minute before he speaks again.

“I’m going to kill him.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #maroon

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sweetwolfcupcake · 2 months

Text

Wildflower: 02

The Secret Garden

Category: Short Series

John Wick x Reader

Warning: Nothing Yet

Notes: John is relatively younger in this fic-- late thirties to early forties.

The gif is not mine. Credits to the original creator (Sorry, I don't remember where I downloaded it from)

Unedited

Wildflower 01

“I thought you weren't one for socialising.” Winston commented, observing John’s eyes before they met his gaze again.

“I am not.” John stated simply.

Winston hummed dismissively and sipped his drink, keeping his gaze locked with John’s.

“You seem intrigued.”

John looked away and frowned. “It’s not every day that I get to meet someone who has not even heard of the Boogeyman.”

“Fascinated?”

John looked up “Amused.That’s it.”

With that, he chugged away the bourbon on the glass and bid Winston a goodnight before leaving.

—---

As the bus moved past streets and signs, the world around her remained blurred. She sat on the window seat, gazing at her mother’s ring. The tears she fought finally won– a thick drop lined her cheek, followed by another, but she bit her trembling lips and held tight, wiping away her tears quickly.

Calm down, calm down, calmdown calmdown calmdowncalmdown…

She would not break down like that. She would not allow anyone to witness her break. She was in the midst of keeping herself together when a handkerchief came into view. She looked up, only to see a man she has never seen offering her the piece of cloth.

“Please,” He offered politely.

She blinked but mindlessly accepted it “Thank you.”

That was all she could come up with while wiping her tears. He sat on the seat in the front turned to face her with a smile “You’re welcome. Rough day?”

She mustered up a faint smile and nod, reflecting on the events a few hours ago.

“I haven’t seen you around here before? Are you new here?”

His question made her look up to him in surprise.

He noticed it and added– “I take this bus regularly, the next stop is mine– I know the regulars. So, just curious.”

“Yes, I just…moved to New York.”

“Tough day at work?”

"Would have been better to have a tough day at work. personal stuff."

He offered an understanding silence for a few moments until the bus came to a halt. “Well, here’s my stop. Guess we will run into each other often. I’m Alex by the way.” He rose and offered his hand.

“It was nice to meet you Alex, I’m (Y/N).” She shook his hand with a faint smile before he waved and got off the bus.

What an unexpected, kind surprise.

—-----

Moving into New York was a completely new experience– but she was settling in. A month after her visit to the mysterious Continental, she had not been contacted by Winston— not directly, at least. A parcel was sent to the apartment she had rented. A parcel containing a card under his name and a note saying ‘In case you need it.'

Winston was a strange man. Even though she wanted to ask him how he got her address, she had no other way but to either visit the Continental again, or ring up the number provided in the card. She could not bring herself to do that.

Every other evening, she would take the same bus home from her workplace and run into Alex. Alex Norton was a Pharmacologist who happened to be exceptionally bad at driving cars or balancing motorcycles. So, public transport was all he was left with. Not that he minded, as he told her– he liked to observe, and liked the steady cycle of public transportation–

“It's one of the few stable things I have in life.”

He told her once, standing over her seat after he had kindly given up his for an elderly man. She did not poke further in favour of keeping the conversation on a lighter tone (he had an amazing sense of humour), but she was almost certain that he meant something deeper.

Almost.

In the last month, she had realised that there was nothing too ‘obvious’, or ‘too certain’-- there were always gaps and cracks, what ifs and buts. It was not that she did not think of her mother. She did, every night before falling asleep, questions would plague her mind and every morning, she would be filled with a sense of hopelessness and dread thinking of all the possibilities– one worse than the other, and all the ‘what ifs’-- what if her mother never left? What if her mother told her where to find her? What if she got the letter on time, what if—what if.

She was in one of those ‘what if’ phases in her mind, walking with her eyes downcast, but unfocused as she navigated her office street with muscle memory when her vision shook—

No, she shook, after she had stumbled– perhaps walked right into a man and bumped into him hard enough to leave her nose with a dull ache.

She hissed, rubbing her nose. “I am sorry.” She stepped back, apologising.

“No, it was my fault.”

She looked up. It was the same man who was there with Winston the other night. His eyes remained on her, as if waiting.

“Oh, hello again Mr…”

“Wick—John Wick. Are you alright?” There was a faint frown that settled between his eyebrows.

“Yes, yes, I am. Just a little distracted.” She smiled awkwardly, the man only nodded.

“You’ll settle in.”

“I hope so.” There was no conviction in her tone. If he noticed, he did not comment, just stood there, looking at her. “Okay so, I need to get to work. Good to see you.”

He simply nodded again.

With a tight-lipped smile, she walked past him, turning into another head among the thousands on the street.

John smoothened his shirt, feeling the bulletproof vest underneath– eyes still on her moving form before he finally looked ahead and walked on. He was working after all.

—---

John Wick was not the one to linger around past business. His work was done, he should be heading home. But he found himself staying. Staring at an unassuming office building, he turned around to buy a pack of doughnuts– just in time (Y/N) walked out of it. He turned slightly, watching from the other side of the road as she navigated the streets. His stoic gaze remained on her.

John was conflicted.

He had nothing to do with that woman. She belonged to the other side– the clean, untainted side he could never even dare taste, for he knew that a cursed demon like him would taint it, wither the garden, bring dark, stormy clouds over the perfectly sunny world. The world which she came from was his childhood fairytale and now a distant, wistful fantasy— perhaps some other dimension, universe? He did not know, he was doomed after all. The world he came from…was a nightmare to her– to people like her.

So, what was he doing there?

John had no reasonable answer to that. He had seen her walking on the street with her eyes downcast, and stopped, allowing her to bump into him. Even through the bulletproof vest he could sense her warmth– a tenderness that made chills run down his spine. Something he had never experienced before. It felt forbidden, but so… so good. It took him some effort to not reach out to the warmth, instead, his fingers folded into a tight fist in his pocket.

She was the forbidden fruit that walked into the place where angels feared to tread— but so oblivious, so sweet so…

John shook his head and stopped. With one last glance at her form at a distance, he turned around and walked away, dropping the pack of doughnuts on the lap of an old, homeless man on the footpath.

-----

“Isn’t this my favourite commuter?”

She turned around to face Alex with a smile. It was crowded and neither of them had a seat. But standing with Alex was much better than being cramped up with strangers.

“Hi.” She smiled “You look tired?” She commented,assessing him. His usual pristine coat seemed crinkled and dirtied and despite the cool weather, he had beads of sweat. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes I am, just a project going haywire, don’t worry. How was your day?”

“As usual. You were right, once you get a hang of it, I guess things do become bearable.”

Alex smiled “So, tomorrow’s weekend. Wanna grab a beer?”

Now, that was a tempting offer. She glanced at her watch– she had plenty of time.

“Okay, let's go. Your stop or mine?”

“Neither, the next to next stop is a street filled with good pubs. You’ll love it.”

—-

Alex was not wrong. The pub he took her to had just begun to fill in– so they managed to get their desired spot to sit, the ambience, and the environment was lively.

“It's a lovely place, thank you for bringing me here.”

Alex raised his glass and smiled “You're welcome.”

Getting along with Alex was easy. It was smooth-sailing to have a conversation with him, to jump from one topic to another.

“I do not think that it's necessary that the street should be under constant surveillance. You see, it's the people we need to mend.”

“Until then, constant surveillance might help. My colleagues, I mean most of them are so nonchalant about the reports of crime and all.” (Y/N) added.

They had somehow landed on the topic of crime and surveillance in the city and she was surprised by the degree of nonchalance in the locals.

“You’re new here.” Alex commented, sipping his beer as his eyes casually moved around the place.

She shrugged, focusing on her drink “There are a few things I might never get used to.”

“True.” His eyes found hers again and he smiled.

It was then she noticed– truly noticed how attractive he was. Tall, dark, well-built with a gentle smile. Alex Norton was a treat for sore eyes. But what truly made him attractive was his approach to people, the way he spoke, the way he listened more.

She took a swig of her beer, an attempt to divert her eyes.

****

So, what do you guys think? I have decided to turn it into a short series.

#yandere john wick #yandere john wick x reader #john wick x reader #soft!dark john wick #soft!dark john wick x reader #dark john wick #dark john wick x reader

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callsignmarz · 3 months

Text

MDNI | Ghost x Reader

“He’s Still Grieving.”

Life could be so unexpected. So empty. So cruel.

Full of all the ‘what if’s.’

Delicate rainfall descends from the heavens above, muting the outside world. Ghost overlooks the streets of London from inside of his flat with exhaustive eyes, twirling a whirlpool in his glass of bourbon.

“Drinking again?” You berated with concern, watching as he drowns his sorrows in alcohol.

“I got a lot on my mind.” He mumbled.

His drinking became a nightly ritual, numbing the shame and guilt that loomed over like the grey clouds in the night sky. Letting out a defeated sigh, Ghost shuts his eyes, listening to how your soft voice blends almost perfectly with the rain.

“You know, I hate when you go on a binge like this.”

Sensing his distress, you step closer, reaching out to embrace Ghost from behind. Yet, his body only tenses more underneath your touch.

“Talk to me, my love. Is it work?”

Your innocent question curls a faint smile on Ghost’s lips.

After a passing beat, he lets out a quiet laugh.

“You were always a thorn in my ass.”

“Just a thorn? I aim to be an entire cactus.” You remarked with a chuckle, taking the glass from his hands and gently setting it down on the nightstand beside the guest’s bed.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. Then the sweet smile on your face fades as your brows furrow in deep thought.

“Are you ever going to move back into our bedroom?” You ask in a thin sounding tone.

Ghost’s frowns deeply, fighting to keep a handle on his composure. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the bedroom. Waking up next to you every morning, holding you close and kissing you whenever he pleases.

“No, not after what happened.” Ghost said firmly, ignoring the tightening in his throat.

Turning from the window, your head briefly sinks between your shoulders as he brushes past you, neither of you capable to meet each other’s gaze. Your heart squeezed painfully, knowing how much pain he was in, how much he lost then and now.

“I don’t blame you, Simon.” You say just before he leaves the room.

Ghost frozen in his tracks. Hearing his name leave your mouth with such ease broke the last shred of self-control. Spinning around, your heart races when Ghost charges at you in two large strides with self-loathing tears streaming down his face as he finally releases all his pent up emotions.

“You don’t get to say that, you’re not even real, Y/N! You’re fucking dead and it’s all my fault. I could’ve saved you, just like everyone fucking else in my life. But, no! I let my entire family down, I let Johnny down…now, I let you down.”

Choking back a sob, Ghost collapses on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands with the memories of the day he lost you flood back in.

The pitch from the sirens embedded within the walls of your home along with the sight of EMT’s worked vigorously to resuscitate you.

Every second matters.

Was the last thing the doctor said to Ghost before rushing you off for emergency surgery. 30 minutes later, you passed away from the brain aneurysm.

Since then, the man you loved so dearly deteriorated into nothing but a hallow shell with the only way of coping is searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle.

Little by little, the grief ate away at what was left of his sanity and the apparition of you began haunting him.

“I just miss you, Y/N…I miss you so much.” Ghost’s voice broke, dropping his hands from his face.

When Ghost looked at you, his brows scrunched as he saw the look of your face. In your eyes, Ghost saw the final farewell. The realization hit painfully as he jumped to his feet with woeful expression.

“No, please I’m not ready to let you go.” He pleaded as you held a bittersweet smile on your face, your own tears running along your flushed cheeks.

“I know and I’m sorry, my love. But, this is for the best. I need you to get better and stay strong for us. Okay?”

“Us?”

“Yeah, L.T. All of us.”

Ghost whips around with bulging eyes when he hears a familiar voice come from behind him.

On the other side of the room stood, Tommy with an arm around Beth, his mother, who was holding Joseph and Soap.

All of them looked as happy and healthy as Ghost last remembered.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, LT.” Johnny and Tommy chuckle at the bewildered look plastered on Ghost’s face.

“No matter what happens, we’re always going to be here for you, Sweetheart. And we’re so proud of the man you’ve become.” His eyes pull towards his mother’s soothing voice, then circles back towards you.

“It’ll be okay, Simon. Think of this as a ‘See you next time’ rather than a ‘Goodbye.’” You reassured Ghost as your hand swiftly cups his stubbled cheek.

Leaning into your touch one last time, Ghost silently accepted that it was time to let go. With a heavy heart, he whispers out his promise.

“I’ll do better, okay. Just…please don’t be a stranger.”

You give him a simple nod, then cradled him into your arms as he clung onto you for the last time. Ghost nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, smothering back the occasional sniffles.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Pulling away from each other, Soap’s hand slams down on the back of Ghost’s neck, joshing him around a bit.

“It’ll be okay, L.T. No need for the water works. I thought you told me you had a cold heart.” He teases, livening up the air, evoking a light chuckle from everyone. Soap leans closer, keeping his tone low and assuring, his baby blue eyes full of understanding. “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll take care of them all.”

Ghost nods thankfully as he pulled away from you completely, wiping away the tears to take in everyone’s smiling faces before finally fading away, leaving Ghost alone once more.

This time the room felt emptier.

However, Ghost had to do one last thing before he could finally move on.

His legs carried himself out the guest room, in the living room, there was a shelf where your urn occupied and right next to it was a sliver key. As he took ahold of the key, Ghost hand caresses you urn with a sentimental smile. He then strolled over, unlocking and entering the master bedroom.

“Hey there, beautiful…”

#call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty fanfic #mw2 imagine #spotify #angst #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghostsoap

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witchersmistress · 7 months

Text

New Orleans

Hello my darlings just a little snippet of a thing for ya'll. I'll play with it more tomorrow but for now enjoy.

Summary: Rory finally got to live out her life long dream, traveling to the beautiful city of News Orleans. a place that has called to her for so long, when she catches the eye of a familiar southern gentlemen

Word count: 700

Trigger warnings: none

Here is part 2 for those who are interested https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/730375070899388416/a-guarded-walk-home?source=share

My family thought it was the oddest thing that from the time I could remember when I was a little girl, I was just dying to get to New Orleans. I always said I had someone waiting for me, someone who loved and lost so long ago, but I was back again and this time forever. I use to go on about the beautiful mansion he had built me, the ballroom for dancing, the green house for all my gardening, a spiral stair case to a hidden library.. it was just dreams my therapist told me. Probably read in a book somewhere, but all those years later here I am

The city of New Orleans. A place of beautiful, fascination, magic, change and southern gentlemen

It was all yes ma'am, no ma'am, holding doors for them as the walked in with a gentle smack on their rear ends to hurry it along. Open car doors and keeping them safe as the made their way down Bourbon Street, which they've said transport you to another world at night. The throbbing music, the dancing neon lights, decorated by beads and balconies, and when it rained down on Bourbon Street, the party may have stopped the sounds of the rain come down off the metals roofs and waterfalling off the balconies to the windowless streets below.

That is the first time I saw that man, the one man who'd be my death and my undoing.

it was morning, the city was still sleepy, I stepped out to enjoy fresh air and drink my tea as I watched the people below, when I spotted him. He was tall, muscular, in a white tee that was plastered to his chest, showing off his delicious abs, he had a buzz cut and a scruff beard and these gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. I watched him, pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow and all I wanted to do was to sit on that man's face.

I felt my cheeks turn red with that idea. As if the man himself could have heard my thoughts, he looked up at me from his position on the street and waved at me with a devil may care smile. Sweet baby Jesus, my face was on fucking fire as I starred at him like an edjit. He threw the rag into the back of his truck and jogged across the road to the balcony where I stood.

"You know sugah, instead of just staring at me, you could've waved back" he said with a wink. Good lord I must have been red as a tomato. I starred at him in stunned silence he let out a low laugh " Alright darling if you insist" he said as he backed up into the street. What in the devil was this man doing.

"Last chance" he hollered " or you've left me no choice" I heard someone yell back "Syverson leave that young lady alone" he shrugged them off as he ran then jumped to grab hold of the railing of the balcony, my jaw was on the ground watching him pull himsled up and over the railing with ease. People cat called and whistled him from the street but he was focused on me " Well.." he trailed off as he took in my black leggings and grey v neck. He placed two fingers under my chin and closed my jaw with a audible click of my teeth.

"I'm Logan and you are?" Prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth " I'm Aurora, but most people call me Rory" his eyes narrowed and his eye brows scrunched in displeasure " I think I prefer, Aurora" he stepped closer to me and locking a finger around a few strands of my hair. Running his tongue along his teeth, I could see the sharpest of edges of his canine teeth beneath his plump lips. Breathing in the scent of his colone I was mesmerized by those blue eyes as he studied my face, if I had been so obsessed with his lips, I might have missed what he whispered " I've finally found you"

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill characters #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #henry cavill vampire

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mysafehaneul · 6 months

Text

VI. AQUAMARINE

CHAPTER 6: MIDNIGHT RAIN

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 5k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

Angst, Fluff, Smut

(Wonwoo listening his cousin bullshit his way through with his adopted son)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Humans are often regarded as one of God's most remarkable creations. Their gift lies in their capacity to feel and, perhaps most importantly, their ability to choose. This choice extends to the depth at which they allow emotions to permeate their existence and whether they will permit these emotions to wield control. Among the plethora of emotions humans grapple with, two stand out as the most transformative: Love and Fear.

Fear can, at times, feel like the venomous bite of a serpent. Its poison infiltrates the body slowly, much like a creeping shadow merging with the blood coursing through the veins. Gradually, your body turns an eerie shade of blue, the coldness seeping into your very core, and then comes the numbing sensation. At this point, it seems as though your soul has departed, leaving behind nothing but an empty vessel.

Jeon Wonwoo, a man of logic and strategy, had experienced this paralyzing fear on just four distinct occasions throughout his life. In his family of Jeon cousins, he had always been seen as the rational and reliable one. Born to Jeon Wooshik and Sunmi, he was their cherished child and the apple of his grandmother's eye. When he was seven years old, his parents had contemplated expanding their business to Japan. However, his grandparents opposed the idea, so he continued his education in his homeland until middle school. At the age of 16, he relocated to London. This was where he first encountered Eleanor, his initial love.

Wonwoo had led a simple, disciplined life. He had a profound understanding of who he was and the influence he held. Yet, he was also acutely aware of the fragility of the intricate game known as life. He understood that the moment one took something for granted, life was apt to roll the dice and reveal its unpredictable hand. Thus, one must continually prove their worthiness. It was his grandfather who had once imparted the wisdom that good things come to those who work diligently for them.

The first of those four chilling episodes transpired when he was 16 years old. At that age, he was the epitome of youthful exuberance, with all the confidence and recklessness that adolescence often entails. He and his middle-school friend, Mingyu, both avid astronomy enthusiasts, set out for a night of stargazing. Mingyu, having recently acquired his driver's license, often drove to a place he discovered in one of his adventures. Mingyu had a dream to build an observatory near the pond in the newly developed section of the jungle, known as Bourbon Street. In one of their ambitious plans, Wonwoo intended to construct a home for himself and Eleanor on the same property. Yet the thing about plans is humor in itself for God.

They were behind the wheel, cruising along the rain-slicked roads. Boys at the age of 16, reckless and unbridled, invincible in their own minds. The night was tranquil, and the promise of adventure hung in the air. Suddenly, as they rounded a corner, a small raccoon darted across the road. Wonwoo's instincts took over; he slammed the brakes. However, the combination of the wet road and the vehicle's speed sent the car skidding out of control. It flipped, the world spinning in disarray.

The experience was an instant awakening. Fear gripped Wonwoo in its cold embrace as he struggled to make sense of the world turned upside down. When he gazed upon his friend, Mingyu, his eyes were lifeless, staring back at him. It was the first time in his young life that he felt the icy fingers of that overpowering fear.

In the days and weeks following the accident, Wonwoo wrestled with a profound sense of survivor's guilt. The memories of the ill-fated night haunted him relentlessly.

He couldn't shake the idea that he should have been the one to die that evening, not Mingyu. Why had the universe chosen to spare him? Why had he survived when his best friend had not? These thoughts tormented him, and he often found himself lost in a whirlpool of sorrow, asking questions that had no answers.

Attending Mingyu's funeral deepened his guilt. As he stood by the gravesite, holding a portion of Mingyu's ashes in his trembling hands, he made a silent promise to his departed friend: he would build that observatory and dedicate it to him, as a way of carrying a piece of Mingyu's dreams and ambitions into the future.

The accident not only left a deep emotional scar but also brought to Wonwoo's attention the stark realities of life. It dawned on him that wealth and privilege could serve as a protective shield against the harshness of the world. The news of the accident had been suppressed, and Wonwoo's influential family had made certain that Mingyu's family was well compensated. Their wealth ensured that they could keep the incident out of the public eye.

Wonwoo's mother, upon hearing the news that her son was safe, clung to him tightly, weeping with gratitude that her precious child had been spared. It was a poignant moment that emphasized how fortunes could dramatically shape the course of life. Wonwoo's grandmother, who had a strong hand in the family, took immediate action. She issued a stern decree that her grandson was not to drive anywhere without a driver, instilling in him a sense of dependency that he had never felt before.

As time passed, The pain soothed and people moved on. After the accident, the municipal held an auction for the land where the accident had happened, and the price had significantly dropped. Wonwoo', well aware of the land's importance, acted quickly to successfully bid for the plot in his name. But he was outbid by someone else named 28. When he turned to look, he saw a lady in uniform and noticed a young girl, not much older than 12, with two neatly braided pigtails and a white frock. She sat prim and proper, yet her gaze seemed fixed on something beyond the scene. The first thought that occurred was 'Isn't she a bit young to be here?'

During the auction's lunch break, Wonwoo strolled near the pond and spotted the same girl. She was assisting a mother duck whose legs had become entangled in plastic and a branch. The duck had pecked at her, but the girl's steady and skilled hands worked swiftly to free the distressed bird. The brood of ducklings stood nearby, watching nervously as the rescue unfolded.

Wonwoo was intrigued and wanted to approach but hesitated, not wanting to disturb the scene. The girl expertly untangled the duck's legs and let her rejoin her ducklings in the pond. Returned with a handkerchief filled with breadcrumbs, and started feeding them.

Wonwoo slowly approached them when her voice cut through,

"You shouldn't walk so loudly; you'll scare them away," she told him gently.

"Sorry," he offered, realizing he had been inattentive. "But didn't they hurt you? Why are you feeding them?"

The girl shrugged and replied, "My mother says that sometimes people who are hurt say harsh things because they don't know how to ask for help."

This response left Wonwoo pondering how a young girl like her displayed more wisdom and sensitivity than most of his friends, peers, and even many adults in his life. As a token of their interaction, she offered him a piece of bread to feed the ducks. Their conversation was interrupted when someone called her

"Miss, Let's go".

She handed Wonwoo the handkerchief, instructing him to feed the ducks well, and then left, heading toward a waiting car where a woman in uniform awaited her. Animatedly, she recounted her rescue mission to the uniformed lady, who listened with a smile.

As the car pulled away, leaving Wonwoo behind, he watched the girl's lively chatter and thought to himself, "Cute kid." He then proceeded to distribute all the bread from the handkerchief to the ducks, tucking the now empty cloth into his pant pockets. It was the first time he had been outbid twice in one day, and it left him pondering how he might acquire the land from the mysterious bidder number 28.

The second time Wonwoo felt that profound fear was during his grandmother's final moments. The room was bathed in a gentle, fading light, and the air was heavy with a sense of solemnity. Wonwoo, his mother, and other family members stood around her bedside, their faces etched with sadness.

His grandmother, a wise and gentle presence throughout his life, lay frail. Her breathing was shallow and labored as she approached the end of her journey. Wonwoo's mother, Sunmi, gently held her mother-in-law's hand. The old woman's eyes, once filled with a lifetime of stories, met Wonwoo's, and in those fading orbs, he saw a mixture of love, wisdom, and sorrow.

With the last of her strength, she whispered words that etched themselves deep into Wonwoo's soul. "Wooshik's father must have been lonely for a long time," she said softly, her voice trembling like a fragile leaf about to fall. Then, with those poignant words, she closed her eyes for the final time.

The third time that chilling fear gripped Wonwoo's heart was on a quiet evening, a month after his grandmother's funeral. He sat alone in his London flat, the room illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains.

His phone lit up with notifications. As he picked it up and swiped through the messages, his world shattered. There, on the screen, were photographs of Eleanor's wedding, a vision of her radiant in her bridal gown, sharing smiles and vows with someone who wasn't him. The images were a bitter testament to the future they would never share.

But it was the text message that accompanied the photos that sent a dagger of fear through him. Eleanor's words were cold and final as if she had made a calculated decision. "I didn't want you to know this from anyone else," the message began, and with those words, a sense of dread intensified. "It is what it is. I gave this a lot of thought, and I don't think the future I envision for myself can be fulfilled with you. The skeletons in your family's closets can easily be discovered if anyone digs enough, and I can't have anyone or anything holding me back. I am sorry, goodbye."

It was the realization that someone he had loved, someone he had envisioned his future with, could cast him aside so easily that brought forth this crippling fear. It wasn't just the loss of love but the revelation that people could be ruthless in the pursuit of their own ambitions, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and broken hearts. It was a fear of vulnerability and the harsh realities of the world, one that came crashing down like a tidal wave on that fateful evening.

The fourth time that fear gripped Wonwoo was on the night before the custody case. He had settled into a fitful slumber on the room couch when the sound of whimpering sliced through the silence of the night.

Groggily, he rose from the couch and followed the plaintive sounds to find you. You were in your bed, yet you were not at peace. The covers were tangled around you, and your body was contorted as if caught in the clutches of a terrible dream.

Tears streamed down your face, and you muttered in your sleep, "Sorry, please, no."

Your forehead glistened with sweat, the beads gathering into small, glistening droplets. It was as if you were caught in a nightmare, a place of torment that he couldn't reach.

Without thinking, he reached out and gently took your hand. He couldn't explain the rush of emotions he felt at that moment—the desire to protect, to comfort, to chase away whatever demons haunted his dreams.

For the first time, he realized that this had become more than just a business deal. In that darkened room, Wonwoo's heart clenched with the understanding that he was now deeply invested in this struggle.

....

For Wonwoo, his pursuit of that particular land had festered for a long time, a clandestine ambition kept secret from even his parents. So, when his father mentioned the L/N family, it felt like the stars were aligning in his favor. It no longer mattered what it took; he wanted it, and he was willing to do whatever it required. Even if that meant getting married. He knew your father was a stubborn man, and how do you tempt someone who seemingly has everything? The answer was simple—by getting to the one for whom he had built that empire.

On a Wednesday morning, Chan presented him with your file. Wonwoo hadn't expected you to be so different from what he had imagined, influenced by popular beliefs and presumptions.

"This is interesting," he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk.

Chan, who stood there holding the file, raised an inquisitive brow. "What is?"

The object of Wonwoo's interest was a photograph. In it, You were sitting in a children's park. Your hair shimmered under the sun; a smile played on your lips as you looked down at your phone. He recalled when you stood, barely reaching his chest in height, feeding ducks in that park.

"She's mostly settled in Switzerland," Chan informed him. "She opened and is running a branch of their family's diamond and stones business there."

"Please turn to the next page," He instructed, Wonwoo's gaze locked on the photograph. He glanced up at Chan as the information continued. "We've gathered that the land was initially solely under her name, but a year ago, an unidentified benefactor was also added."

Wonwoo flipped to the next page and saw a photograph of you pushing a blonde child on a swing. "Her child?"

"Secret child. No one is aware of its existence, not even her parents."

"Secret child, huh?" Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, a sinister smile playing on his lips. The little girl is all grown up now. His fingers traced his jawline.

"What about the father?" He inquired.

"Well, it seems like he's not in the picture," Chan mused, "No pun intended."

Chan caught the fed-up look in Wonwoo's eyes.

"Well, then," Wonwoo said, focusing on the bigger picture, "Burbone doesn't seem that far now, does it, Chan?"

A knowing look passed between them.

....

Late at night, the soft amber glow of a desk lamp illuminated the spacious office of Jeon Wonwoo. A crystal tumbler filled with whiskey stood beside a scattered array of paperwork. The gentle clinking of ice cubes accompanied his contemplative thoughts as he swirled the golden liquid in the glass.

His mind drifted back to the series of events that had led him to this point. Meeting you had been a surprise, to say the least. The sweet and easily chatty girl he remembered from his teenage years had transformed into a rose with thorns, sharp-tongued and unapologetically independent.

When you proposed the marriage, he had seen it as an opportunity to create the conditions and situations that would inevitably lead you to give up the coveted land. There was nothing else about you that interested him, and if he could assist you in gaining custody of a child, there was nothing to lose.

Wonwoo had never been particularly interested in having children, despite his parents' persistent pressure. But as he watched you with Noel for the first time when you both slept in the same bed, cuddled due to the fatigue of the wedding and the flight, something shifted within him. The knots in his heart began to unravel, and gradually, he found himself looking forward to coming home.

Whether you were in your home office or the living area, watching Noel play games or having dinner together, there was an inexplicable warmth in these moments. He had started to make sure that he completed his work by 7 in the evening, eager to be part of these family moments.

He had even stopped smoking at home, convinced by his newfound understanding of the health risks it posed to children. Only two months had passed, but he didn't even realize how much he enjoyed talking to you. It was as if, with each passing day, there was something new and enchanting about your routine, and you were becoming more beautiful by the day.

...

It is widely believed that there's nothing scarier than a man who has nothing to lose. Jeon Wonwoo was widely regarded as someone who had very few things he held dear, making it difficult to get under his skin. Profit always took precedence. So why, when Noel's uncle casually claimed that you both had slept together, did it bother him so much?

The feeling was foreign, something he couldn't quite comprehend. It was none of his business, but still, it gnawed at him. The mere thought of it made him uneasy.

He couldn't explain why your laughter in the field upon his loss resonated within him, why it made his heart pound. He couldn't fathom why he felt pride swell in his chest when he saw you getting along with his family and cousins, especially his parents who hold you in such high regard. Nor he could understand why his heart felt like it was being torn into pieces when you looked at him, your eyes filled with what seemed like a betrayal.

He watched you talking to Eleanor on the balcony, contemplating whether to join you. But before he could decide, you stepped out, looking a little tired. Concerned, he thought about calling you,

As Wonwoo cautiously approached you, he observed your hesitation and stopped in confusion. Just as he was about to reach out and touch your shoulder, he overheard the reason you had paused.

"I mean, what else can I expect? I heard Master Wonwoo’s grandfather used to be a constructor and a loan shark. Poor L/Ns, where they've got themselves, trapped into," one of the maids had said.

"But didn't they build the company?" the other maid asked.

"Well, yes, after getting married, Master Wooshik's grandfather gave his father a handsome dowry on the condition if he leaves—"

Their voices were interrupted by a commanding voice, "What are you two busy chatting about? Come here; dinner time is approaching."

"Yes, ma'am."

Wonwoo's gaze was now fixed upon you, concern etched into his features and lips drawn into a line as he sought to understand how these revelations were affecting you.

The words, "They changed their minds the moment they heard the child's worth," echoed in your mind, like a relentless refrain. The weight of it pressed upon you, causing your heart to ache as your anger grew.

As you contemplated confronting the man who had spoken these words, you realized the futility of such an act. The last thing you wanted was to give them more to gossip about, to become the topic of their shallow conversations. Instead, you decided to remove yourself and Noel from the party, away from these people.

With determined steps, you began walking toward the room where Noel was. He observed your actions, his eyes focused intently on you.

However, as you were about to step into the room, Wonwoo suddenly grabbed your wrist, halting you with a yank. His grip was firm, and his voice carried a sense of urgency.

"Let go of me," you gritted your teeth, your eyes sending a clear warning.

"Where are you going?" Wonwoo asked his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

"None of your business. Let go of me," you insisted, tugging at your wrist in an attempt to free yourself.

But Wonwoo wouldn't release his hold, and you noticed a waiter emerging from the storeroom under the stairs, looking embarrassed as if caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Wonwoo -" you started, but he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you closer, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

"Y/n, stop giving them something more to talk about."

Feeling your resistance wane, you allowed him to lead you into the room. Once inside, you forcefully yanked your wrist away from his grasp.

"Don't you ever dare to drag me like this," you warned, your eyes blazing with anger.

Wonwoo sighed, clicking the lock on the door. He turned to face you, his hands tucked into his pockets. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting a warm aura. The moonlight seeped through the curtains.

"Sorry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You glared at him, your frustration and disappointment evident.

"I get it that you're angry," he acknowledged.

"I am not angry at you, Wonwoo," you replied, your voice dripping with exasperation. "I am angry at myself for believing that someone like you could be any different from the others."

Wonwoo furrowed his brow, genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," you retorted, stepping closer to him. "You're just as shallow as Nikolai."

The mention of Nikolai's name sparked irritation in Wonwoo. He took a step towards you. "Two billion is all it took for you and your family to accept Noel? I mean, what else can I expect from a man who said that I always weigh my gains before making any deal."

Wonwoo stared at you, aghast. "You'll take the words of gossip over the two months that you've known me, Y/n? Is that your opinion of me?"

"Don't you dare turn this on me, Wonwoo!" you shot back. "This has nothing to do with gossip. This is coming from what I have observed. Just a few weeks ago, your parents, who were so set against the very idea of Noel's name being attached to you, which, mind you, I didn't even ask for, are now treating him as if he's their own."

Wonwoo looked at you, bewildered. "People can have a change of heart, Y/n."

"Of course, they can, Wonwoo," you replied, closing the gap between you. "That's the whole point. The moment they realize this is not just some poor orphan but the heir to a two-billion-dollar company, of course, anyone can have a change of heart."

Unknowingly, you walked even closer, until you were face to face.

"Don't you think you're speaking a little out of turn here, baby girl?" Wonwoo gave a mocking chuckle.

You didn't back down when he stepped into your space. "Do you think my family and I even give a flying fuck about two billion?"

"Did you even bother asking me what I talked about with my father? What I say to him for them to accept Noel?" Wonwoo's irritation was palpable. "No, you just assumed and deluded yourself into thinking that your version of things is the truth, and the rest are just out here to fool you."

Wonwoo took a step forward making you take a step back, his frustration evident. "I mean, what can I expect from a woman who was in love with her best friend's husband and raising his child as if it's her own? Now tell me, who is the shallow one? Who is the one who's feeding into her own imagination?"

The room was filled with tension, as both of you locked gazes.

They say that no one knows a person better than themselves, but sometimes, when our fears and doubts about ourselves are voiced by someone else, it feels like a crushing weight on our chest. It's as though they've laid bare our pride in a fragile glass jar and carelessly shattered it, the shards cutting into our very being.

As you stared at the man in front of you, your legs felt weak, unable to bear the emotional weight of his words. The defiance that had initially burned within you had been replaced by a sense of powerlessness. A lump rose in your throat, choking your ability to respond.

"I knew I should've walked out of your office that day," you whispered, your voice trembling with sadness. The room seemed to close in around you, and you found it difficult to maintain eye contact.

Wonwoo, however, realized his mistake a beat too late. He had seen the pain in your eyes, and at that moment, his breath hitched as he comprehended the depth of his error. It was clear to him that he had screwed up.

You moved away from him, your head cast down as you walked toward the door. But before leaving, you turned to face him and said, "I think we're done here, Wonwoo. My lawyer will be contacting you soon."

"Don't be stupid, Y/N. You know you'll be losing Oasis and Burbone Road as a whole if you divorce me, right?" Wonwoo's voice held a trace of warning.

You met his words with a sardonic smile. "Consider it a gift for everything you've done till now. Either way, you were going to work your way to earn full ownership, of your side projects under confidentiality. Isn't that right, Mr. Jeon?"

"Don't call me that," he grumbled.

"I'll take the blame so you don't have to worry—"

But before you could finish, he cut in. "The court will withdraw your adoption application. We're in a 6-month trial period, and the first visit is in 2 weeks from now."

You closed your eyes briefly, collecting your thoughts. "That's for me to think about. As I told you in the office, I know there is always another way, another door."

He turned his body toward you, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What would that be? Another husband, or this time you'll go to that bastard, Nikolai?"

Your patience wavered as his audacity pushed you. You felt the fire that had almost extinguished rekindling. He had the nerve to say this when his flimsy NDA paraded around as if after his mother, she held the first claim over him. "Maybe. Maybe this time I'll just go to Nikolai. What's it to you? Maybe I'll consider his proposal." You stepped into his space, poking your finger into his chest.

Wonwoo could feel a growl rising in his throat, and your next words shattered his control. "I mean, he'll be more than happy to oblige. Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Wonwoo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips onto yours.

Wonwoo's breath was heavy as he pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Repeat that," he demanded, his voice laced with force and a hint of jealousy.

You, equally breathless, didn't back down. "I said, who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do—"

Before you could finish, he crushed his lips onto yours, his kiss passionate and demanding. You broke for a moment, staring at him with heavy breaths, your gaze shifting to his lips. Without hesitation, you both leaned in, kissing again.

He swiftly picked you up, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. His teeth grazed your lower lip, eliciting a moan from you. Your lips disconnected, and the back of his knees hit the mattress. He sat down with your knees on either side of his thighs. His lips found your neck, and his hand creased your backside, giving it a playful squeeze.

"Wonwoo," you breathed out, your voice filled with desire.

He raised his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes dark with passion. "Yes, Babygirl."

Your chest heaved, your lips swollen from the heated kiss. Wonwoo felt two contradictory emotions coursing through him: anger at the thought of others getting to see you like this, and pity that they weren't able to call you theirs.

Your nails scraped gently across his scalp as you both leaned in for another kiss when a sudden knock at the door interrupted the passionate moment. The voice on the other side called your name, and you stumbled out of Wonwoo's grip, your heart racing.

"Ms. Y/N, are you in there?" The voice persisted.

"Yes," you squeaked, clearing your throat, your cheeks flustered.

"Uhm, Ms. Y/N, Master Jeon is looking for you and Young Master, to join him for dinner. Do you—perhaps know where Young Master is?"

"We'll be right there, Cecilia," Wonwoo answered. You looked at him in shock and mouthed, "Unbelievable."

Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair and threw himself back onto the bed. Your heart was still pounding, as if you were a teenager caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"Y/N," he began, but you cut him off.

"I'll go first," you said with a hasty glance and fixed your appearance. With rushed steps, you exited the room and made your way to the dining hall, leaving him behind.

Noel was seated next to your father-in-law, and they were engrossed in a discussion about their upcoming fishing trip. You wanted to move him away from that table, but you refrained from creating any scene. Jungkook sat opposite Noel, and you took the seat next to him. Han Joon-hee joined the conversation, Jungkook was telling a tale of the time he had caught a swordfish with his bare hands, and Noel's eyes sparkled with fascination when he heard it. "The swordfish shoved his sword up his ass," Joon-hee added, and everyone at the table burst into laughter.

Eleanor and her husband were conspicuously absent from the dinner table. You and Joon-hee engaged in casual conversation, discussing topics of no particular significance, but your heart felt heavy with the weight of what Wonwoo had said earlier. Throughout the dinner, you intentionally avoided making eye contact with him. The atmosphere remained lively, but there was an underlying tension beneath the laughter.

....

That night, you lay beside Noel in his room, gently running your fingers through his hair as tears welled up in your eyes. As you struggled to hold back the tears, soon sleep engulfed you and a dream began to take shape.

You found yourself sitting in the bedroom of the apartment you used to share with Noella during your college days. Noella appeared, looking just as she did at the age of 22. You bit your tongue to suppress the tears that threatened to fall. She spoke, "The heart is a heavy burden, my love. It's okay to let your eyes shed some of its weight."

Seeing her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her. "I don't know what to do, Ella. I feel like I'm failing. I wish you were here. How could you be so selfish and leave me? How could you leave your son? I'm constantly worried that I'm not doing enough. Whatever I do will never be good enough. How could you be so selfish, Ella? How could you leave your son like this? How could you leave me like this?"

Noella offered an apology with a touch of humor, "I'm sorry, baby. In the next life, I'll send out the memo the night before."

You looked at her, initially offended, but then the two of you broke into laughter.

"You know, Y/n," Noella began, "sometimes the hardest part of letting someone go isn't about filling the voids that formed in their absence. Sometimes, it's about finding the purpose of every piece they've left behind. So let go, Y/n. Let go of the things that are beyond your control. Holding onto the broken shreds will only make you bleed. Your friendship is the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the light that helped me out of the dark, and I am forever grateful that you're here with Noel."

Tears trickled down from both of your eyes.

"I'm sorry that I was too late to realize what Joshua truly meant to you," she confessed.

You shook your head and said, "I'm glad it didn't turn out that way, or else I would've never been able to meet Noel."

"He's a good kid, isn't he?" Noella asked.

"The best," you replied with a fond smile. Then you added, "Good job."

She shook her head, denying the compliment, and said, "No, good job to you. And I'm sorry for looping you into it."

You teased, "You should've thought of that when you were doing it without a condom."

"Touché," she conceded.

You don't remember how long has it been, you rested your head on her shoulder as she caressed your head. She began In a more serious tone, "I've been thinking…"

you raised your head, she continued, "You should name your daughter Iris."

You turned your head toward her, a look of confusion on your face. "Pardon my who?"

You woke up abruptly before you could get your answer as Noel gently shook you, his concerned young eyes filled with worry., you blinked away the remnants of your dream. His small, concerned face hovered over you as he gently said, "You've been crying and calling out Mama's name. Are you having a nightmare, Tante?"

You managed a weak smile and replied, "No, sweetie. It was just a bad dream. I'm okay now."

Still not entirely convinced, Noel added, "Okay, but wake up, Uncle Wonwoo and I have to go fishing with Grandpa and JK."

'Grandpa huh?'

With that, he scampered off to get ready for his little fishing trip with the boys, leaving you to reflect on the bittersweet dream that had given you a chance to converse with the memory of your Ella.

TBC.

A/N: Wonwoo that was a messed up thing to say bruv! But atleast they kissed so welp! When I was writing that scene I just could help but think of that scene from alchemy of soul s2. I think this is the shortest chapter I’ve written of this series. These days I’m feeling as if this work not of people’s liking due to the lack of engagement. Maybe I should put it in a hiatus idk. Let’s see how this chapter does ig.

MSH

#kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #bts #seventeen #aquamarine #fanfiction #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen fanfic #jeon wonwoo arrange marriage au #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonu #jeon jungkook #seventeen arrange marriage au

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drunkenlionwrites · 11 months

Text

People watching

Sorry that I’ve turned the fluffy request into a depressing stream of Vash’s consciousness. Hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless

After the latest usual brawl and a flee from a small town next to the almost identical neighboring one, their group has ended up stumbling into the small tavern, almost fully packed with patrons. The girls rushed straight to the bar to order water, while Wolfwood had disappeared into the dark street saying he will arrange the hotel booking, since he needs to smoke and ponder about “stuff” as he phrased it.

That left Vash sitting hunched all alone in the corner. He was weighed by the usual thoughts, that seemed to visit him often these last years since Knives emerged and proceeded with his plans. Vash leaned over the table, the hurt and angry faces of townsfolk of the town which they’ve left in desolation during the shootout with bounty hunters still so vivid in his mind. He did that again. He caused the usual havoc and wreckage to the homes of dozens innocent town dwellers, who were just trying to live their lives. He surely is a humanoid typhoon, isn’t he?

A cheerful chirping sounds of familiar voice and a small thud of the bourbon bottle accompanied by two glasses being placed in front of him distracted him from his inner voice. He looked up at the intruder and it was you, smiling at him with your oh so warm smile. The same one you’ve usually shown to kids you saw during your travels, to the people you’ve assisted, as well as to people who have helped your group instead. It was broad and a bit crooked at one side, the one who warmed him from the inside just like morning suns would. Not yet scorching hot, but oh so cozily engulfing him after the cold desert night. “Drink with me and let’s go dance!” He heard your exclamation through the noises of clinking glasses, crass conversations, laughter and people dancing to the modest accompaniment of a guitarist and a flute player. He smiled at you reassuringly and then shook his head. “I’m a bit tired, so I’ll just stay here and watch over you, girls. Go and have fun for me okay?” he replied, gently pressing his glass of bourbon to yours in a toast. “I’ll be here drinking for you to have a good night”

He then watched how your small figure deftly maneuvered between tables and sitting people, joining a small crowd gathered on dancing floor. You’ve always been so graceful in your movements, so dexterous yet possessing something soft as well. He observed the way you swayed to the rhythm, soon joined by Millie and Meryl, the three of you sharing laughs and smiles, while engaging in a dance. His eyes darted to the other people dancing beside you. They all were mostly just simple townsfolk having leisure time before returning to their hard jobs the next day. His eyes glided over their faces: drunken, happy, relieved, full of life.

Vash has always been in awe at how resilient the dwellers of Gunsmoke actually are. He admired the nature of humans, always stiving for happiness and the betterment of their lives, no matter how miniscule and short-lived moments can be. He tried to drown his heavy thoughts in sensory feelings, concentrating on how the tavern was filled with musky smell of sweat, tobacco, cheap booze and hearty vegetable stew some of the patrons were indulging in. The sounds of talking and laughing, the simple melody and people’s rhythmical stomping of feet. The sight of your hair swaying as you danced like there was no bother in your life, Millie’s and Meryl’s drunken uneven steps, even a local boy’s shy smile and neck crooned to face you closer… all this was a nice distraction.

If you had stayed in this town long enough, he would have gotten to know and remember his name. He would’ve remembered the faces and names of all the people living here. Would’ve known all their little quirks and habits, all the troubles that weigh on their shoulders, everything that makes them laugh and brings them joy. He felt so tired and so disconnected from this world sometimes, yet he knew he still had his mission to accomplish, so he allowed himself to indulge in people watching as it made him feel closer to humanity, closer to something that he might’ve described as a feeling of belonging somewhere. But did he really? Belong somewhere...

He watched as you laughed at something the boy told you, accepting his offer to dance, as you eagerly put your hand in his. Would it have been better if it was his hand instead? Would you have smiled at him with the same smile? Or would it have been more…tender instead? Would he have been able to tug your hair behind your ear neatly instead of this boy?

It doesn’t matter in the end, since he will always walk this planet alone. At least he can watch over you while you walk next to him, no matter how short-lived it is. It better be short. It better be…since all of you cannot stay close to him after all is said and done. But he’ll think about it tomorrow. Tonight is all about people watching, after all.

#vash x you #vash x reader #vash fanfiction #vash headcanons #vash angst #trigun x you #trigun x reader #trigun headcanons

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fishermanshook · 3 months

Text

SEE YOU AGAIN (barmaid x gn!reader)

# HAPPY (early) BDAY DEMI! , day 10 of @philomena-propellente ‘a valentines event , C4L , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Once a customer, always a customer, even if your journey ends here. Care for a drink?

꒰wc꒱ 711

The sound of chatter and drinks clinking fills the Bourbon's tavern down the main street. Except for a lone seat at the bar, every chair has been occupied in just the first hour since the bar opened for the night. The drink orders have been coming in at rapid speed this night, and the duo can only try to keep up. Demi busies herself by getting out more ingredients for her brother, Sam, as he preps their secret to success: Dovlin. The next hit in the industry has people coming in from every corner of the world trying to get a sip.

But alas, her eyes refuse to leave her brother as he mixes and shakes the unknown ingredients together to make Dovlin's recognizable color. A deep, penetrating red that looks as if it's been pulled from humans itself. While she isn't entirely sure what lies in the drink, she trusts that her brother knows what he's doing.

Unfortunately for her, a bell near the front indicates that a new customer has arrived. Neither of them can take another drink order, but Demi reassures Sam that she's got this. The Barmaid takes a deep breath in before plastering on her best-serving smile and-

And she's greeted with you. Your eyes widen at the site of her, and a big smile graces your face as you almost leap to hug her. Demi laughs into your shoulder as she spins you around. "Hi hun, how are you?" she squeals. Demi takes your light giggle as 'good' and takes you to your unofficial seat in the tavern.

You've already been stripped of your coat and spot Demi hanging it up in the back so it doesn't get stolen. Immediately, the Barmaid's attention goes directly to you. You've been gone for some time now, guess all you can do is play catch up at this point. You're distracted by the magic that Demi performs, as she does all sorts of bartender tricks with your glass. Even earn some stares from the surrounding tables as they watch the Barmaid flip the glass and pour the wine. (Low clapping can be heard in the background of the tavern. For you, Demi would practice that trick during the time you were gone. Hoping to impress you by the time you arrive.)

After she's finished, Demi has produced your favorite drink. A purple, grape-flavored juice that invades your veins with excitement. The drink itself is familiar as well and makes you feel more at home in the tavern.

"You've been gone for a month [name] now just where did you run off to?" Demi questions you as she jabs you in the shoulder. She's more than happy to see you, but that still doesn't excuse the time that's passed since your unannounced departure. You take a sip from your drink. It's cold and fizz sending your stomach in a spiral. You wipe your mouth before speaking again.

"I apologize for going AWOL on you, I promise it won't happen again," You say with an apologetic look on your face. "I got caught up on a business trip and was forced to leave as soon as possible." You can't deny that your job doesn't pay you well, which forces you to go back and forth between different departments. That's why you've been coming to this bar for god knows how long. The leather seats have ripped with age, but the nostalgia grows stronger the longer you're separated from the tavern.

You take another sip from your glass. This time, the fizzy feeling became less prominent. "I also have received a rather... interesting letter. The sender is anonymous, and I couldn't pull any more information from it besides the fact that it's offering a large sum of money in exchange for my presence in a game." You hand Demi the letter. It feels smooth in her hands, like a ticket. A ticket to freedom. To a better life. "It's a promise to something greater in this little life of ours, and I'm contemplating taking them up on the offer. Do you or Sam perhaps know anything about Oletus Manor? Hello? Demi I-"

The memory ends there, and the Barmaid wakes up in a cold sweat with dried tears on her face.

note: like 5 months latter and I still can’t write Demi properly 😞 older readers do we recognize the purple drink???

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･CRY ME A RIVER.#philomena's files #idv x reader #fanfiction #identityv #identity v #fanfic #idv #x reader #gn reader #idv barmaid #barmaid x reader #demi bourbon #demi bourbon idv #the barmaid idv #idv the barmaid #fic #idv fic

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

Making You Mine - Kai Parker x Reader

Okay so this one is SUPER LONG I’m sorry I got into it! I hope its okay! Requests are open! I can do TVD/TO and Teen Wolf. Request away my lovelies.

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Prompt: You’re Enzo’s sister (not by blood) and you have a secret kink/lifestyle that only your best friend Bonnie knows about. Kai ultimately finds out.

Warning: Daddy kink, DD/LG, fluff, smut and lot of Malachai Parker which everyone loves!

ENJOY!!

****

“What?” You deadpanned, your face staring blankly into Enzo’s eyes.

“I said-”

“I heard what you said you bloody arsehole.” You grumbled at his cheeky response.

Enzo took you in when you were 5, you were an orphan on the street with no family and he knew how that felt so he chose to raise you in England until you were 21 then gave you the choice to turn and travel with him or to stay and have a human life. You chose to turn, because you didn’t want to leave the man who raised you to an eternity alone. He wasn’t just like a big brother…he was your big brother. Blood bound or not.

“All I’m saying is it’s obvious that you clearly like him.” Enzo supplied switching his gaze to his girlfriend who was currently sipping her coffee watching you and your brother bicker back and forth. Bonnie had become one of your closet friends and she knew pretty much everything about you, even a few things that Enzo didn’t. Such as your hidden lifestyle. Bonnie was open enough that you trusted her with your deepest secrets and desires.

“I don’t like him. More like I want him to bend me over while I scre-”

“Stop talking.” Enzo groaned as if you were causing him physical pain, chuckling along with Bonnie at the sour face he was pulling.

“He’s a psychopath so I personally don’t see the bloody appeal.” Enzo muttered after regaining his composure.

“He’s not like that anymore and you know it. Even Bonnie has forgiven him big brother.” You replied, rolling your Y/E/C eyes at his childish attitude.

“Yes but he doesn’t deserve someone as pure an-” Before he could finish his sentence Bonnie snorted making you blush because you knew exactly what she was thinking. You shot her a death glare picking up your coffee and taking a sip to avoid having to speak.

“What’s so funny?” Enzo asked obviously very confused by Bonnie’s reaction.

“You don’t wanna know babe.” Bonnie supplied making Enzo nod his eyes wide, like he was scared to know the truth. You knew if your big brother found out about your secret life he would never look at you the same.

After everyone finished their coffee, the couple dropped you off home and went out for their usual Friday Date night. Enzo was old fashioned and loved spoiling Bonnie. You thought it was so sweet how much he loved her. As you walked up to the house and saw Tyler’s car in the driveway you let out a pained sigh. You were currently living in the Salvatore boarding house along with Stefan, Caroline, Damon and Kai. You and Tyler weren’t on the best of terms after he bit you when you first came to town. Thankfully Niklaus handed over his blood easily since he liked Caroline and you were also good friends with Elijah who you met a few years after you turned. You stopped as soon as you saw Tyler, Stefan and Kai in the living room. Looking over at all of them, each holding a glass of bourbon. You rolled your eyes and hung up your coat and scarf up.

“Hey Y/N how was your coffee date with Bonnie?” Stefan asked sweetly making me smile. Stefan was always so sweet and kind to you, his gentleness is probably what made Caroline fall for him so easily.

“It’s was good but Enzo tagged along so girl conversation was kept to a minimum.” You pouted over at him before walking over to the kitchen and making myself a cup of tea. You really were British you thought to yourself. You strolled back into the front room, taking a seat in between Tyler and Kai, bringing your feet up and tucking them under you, sipping your tea as you soon settled down.

“Jesus why do you look like you’ve grown wolf claws?” Tyler snorted sarcastically, you looked down at my fresh acrylic nails that you had done the day before. They were stiletto shaped so you nodded noticing his comparison.

“You watch way too much teen wolf Tyler.” You teased mercilessly making him blush faintly.

“I d-do not!” He stuttered making you and Stefan laugh.

“Not that I blame you I mean…Derek Hale is a bloody sex god.” You groaned, faking a shiver for emphasis. Stefan snorted and took a sip of his drink before glancing at Tyler who was sulking in the corner of the couch.

“Anyway what are you boys doing tonight?” You enquired curiously as you sipped your tea.

“Well we’re going out to the bar to have a few round of pool and some drinks.” Tyler informed, nodding in response you kneeled up on the couch and reached over Kai to get your book you were reading in the living room the night before. You smiled sweetly at Kai before a voice interrupted.

“Jesus do you have to wave that thing at me. I may dislike you but I’m still a guy.” Tyler groaned rubbing a hand over his face. You looked over your shoulder to see him trying not to look at your ass, you were still hovering over Kai’s lap when you rolled your eyes at him. You sat back down ignoring Tyler’s previous statement.

“Caroline won’t be back tonight she’s staying with the kids because Alaric has a conference in New York. I’ll be joining her tomorrow since Alaric is gonna be gone a few days.” Stefan smiled softly adding that he’d leave you the key to the cellar. You nodded before making your way upstairs with you cup and book in hand. You reached the top of the stairs and almost tripping over a pair of combat boots.

“GOD DAMN IT MALACHAI!” You screamed before hearing all of them burst out laughing.

“Oops.” Kai chuckled softly before you made your way to your bedroom slamming the door angrily. You and Kai share this side of the house, his room is directly across from yours and he’s always leaving his shit everywhere. Stefan and Caroline have the attic area and Damon has the other side of the house.

After the boys left you checked they were completely gone and decided to have some you time. You searched through your wardrobe and grabbed the locked chest that was in the back of the giant wooden closet. Grabbing a pink crop top that had Princess written on it, your high waist Calvin Klein undies and some white and pastel pink stripy thigh high socks. You grinned deciding to also grab your stuffed white teddy and spare laptop that you used in secret. Making your way to the bed after changing into the outfit, you laid down on your stomach turning on the laptop and opening tumblr.

You had been a little since it pretty much became a thing. You didn’t do the whole diapers and bottle thing but you liked feeling small and well…little. You turned on your Lana Del Rey CD and scrolled through tumblr, re-blog some things your friends posted. Your profile on this laptop was purely for your daddy kink and little space so your entire blog was covered in pastel colors, cute frilly stuff and then the filthy gifs just to top it off. You turned up the music and kicked your legs aimlessly.

You rarely got to do this anymore because you lived in a house full of people, only one person had ever seen you like this and that was Bonnie. It wasn’t on purpose you just accidently slipped into little space around her one day. You guessed it was because of how comfortable you were with her. She was shocked at first but she went along with it because she’s understanding and cares. She even braid your hair. You loved that you had someone who knew about this, it made you happy that someone was so understanding.

You giggled as a message from one of your little friends popped up in the corner, you had known Lilly for years, she was a vampire and also had a vampire Daddy, you envied her for being able to find someone who understood everything and cared for her. You opened it to see a few pictures from over the past few days. A few of the pictures were of her and her Daddy (Alexander). Giggling as you scanned through the pictures of them at the zoo and making food together in the kitchen. Lilly was clearly in little space at the time the picture were taken. You sighed sadly, rolling onto your back staring at the ceiling intensely. You hadn’t had a Daddy in at least 10 years. Your last one was human and he didn’t know you were a vampire which is why it didn’t work out. Trust and honesty is needed in any kind of relationship especially these types.

You got up and decided to get some candy to cheer yourself up. Skipping downstairs with a grin on your face, the teddy still hanging in your grasp, you bent down and opened the cupboard you knew Kai hid his candy in. You picked up a lollypop and went to grab a chocolate bar but heard the sudden sound of a pair of keys hitting the floor. Jumping to a stiff position you spun round quickly hiding the candy behind your back. It was a literal version of a kids hands being caught in the god damn cookie jar. Kai stood there with wide eyes looking you up and down, you blushed looking at your feet trying to avoid his gaze.

“Hi…” You covered my mouth as soon as you realised you still had your little space head on. Your voice slightly more high pitched and full of innocence, blushing even brighter as you looked up seeing Kai’s eyes widen further if that was even possible.

“Hey Kai did you grab that th-” You heard Tyler making his way to the kitchen, your eyes widened in fear as his foot step got closer.

“Don’t come in here.” Kai interrupted him quickly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Huh? Oh whatever come on lets go.” Tyler said stopping in the hall way right outside the kitchen.

“I can’t go I just realised I have to talk to Y/N about some stuff. I’ll speak to you tomorrow tell Stefan I said sorry.” Kai’s eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down once again.

Tyler sighed and slammed the front door on his way out. You were about to sneak up stairs and lock your door so you could text Bonnie and tell her possibly one of the most embarrassing stories of your life but when you tried Kai raised one brow at you like he was daring you to move from that spot. In that moment he looked like a Daddy who had caught his little sneaking candy when he said no. You made involuntary squeak that made his lips twitch slightly like he wanted to smile.

“Anything you’d liked to share?” He asked his voice slightly more stern than he usually spoke before you could stop yourself, you blurted out the truth.

“I’m a little.” Your eyes grew in size as you soon registered what came out of your mouth. The silence was deafening, the blush painting your cheeks increasing tenfold as you moved your candy filled hand to the front of my awkwardly.

“You have a Daddy?” Your eyes shot up looking at him in surprise that he knew what little was. His voice seemed tense like he wanted to yelled but couldn’t. You shook your head and began speaking.

“I’m unowned and haven’t been collared in about 10 years.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he could hear you. His eyes grew dark a smirk slowly making its way to his lips. He made his way over to you stopping as he backed you into the corner of the kitchen sides. He looked into your eyes, his blue ones softening considerably.

“In that case I might just have to make you mine. Would you like that princess?” He whispered a real smile appearing on his face. Your eyes widened as you stared at him like he had grown another head. You’ve wanted a Daddy for so long but to have the man you have been lusting after all this time to offer you everything you want was like a dream that you never wanted to wake up from.

“R-Really?” You question curiously in a soft innocent tone.

“Mhmm. We should have a trial period to see if it’s really what you want. Okay baby girl?” Kai responded his voice soothing and gentle. You nod your head eagerly a bright smile forming on your gloss covered lips. You looked up at him shyly through your thick lashes, he grinned back causing your heart to flutter slightly.

“God if I’d have known you were a little I might have made my move sooner.” Kai groaned his hands making their way to your waist picking you up and putting you on the counter top.

“D-Daddy?” You said unsurely, since it was your first time calling him that. His eyes darkened slightly before his smile brightened.

“Yes princess?” He responded happily.

“C-Can I kiss you?” Your blush had yet to leave you face and wouldn’t be anytime soon as the thought of finally being able to kiss this gorgeous man in front of you swamped your mind. Instead of answering and cupped your cheeks gently before bringing his lips down to yours and kissing you softly. You felt so much emotion swirl in your stomach, his lips were surprisingly soft. They moved slowly prying your own lips open, his tongue cautiously slipped past your teeth wanting to explore all of you. His tongue investigated your mouth with so much tenderness you teared up slightly. He pulled back and stared at me in shocked wiping my eyes carefully.

“What’s the matter baby?”

“I’m s-sorry, it’s just I’ve been waiting for the right Daddy to come along and the fact that I’ve had a crush on you for a while and now this is happening…I’m just really happy.” You sniffed, smiling up at him happily. He kissed your cheek with a smile before picking you up and wrapping your legs around him. You giggled as he sped upstairs to his room, he placed you on the bed carefully before turning on his smart TV he had on his wall. He put on Netflix and sat on the bed with you, pulling you into his chest like you’d done it a million times before.

Sitting here with him felt so natural. You snuggled into him as he put on ‘Beauty and the beast’ you squealed as your favourite movie came on making Kai chuckle at you. Half way through the movie you got a message through Instagram. You opened it to see a picture of Alex and Lilly sat in what you presumed was their bed, Lilly was holding a teddy with one arm and the other was clutching Alex’s top. You read the message below.

‘When are you gonna come and see us? – A&L’

You sighed sadly, suddenly your phone was yanked out of your hand you tried to grab it but he moved it out of your reach. Suddenly the front camera had loaded up. Daddy pulled you into him, his lips pressing to the top of your head as you heard the camera sound go off, you looked at him confused as he sent it to Lilly and Alex with a message saying ‘Soon – L/F/N & K’

“You don’t have to envy your friends anymore princess. If you want selfies with Daddy or you want a new dress. All you have to do is ask.” He stated confidently, you stared at him with wide eyes. Before either of us could blink you were straddling him, your lips smashed against his. You hadn’t felt happiness like this in years. You left out a soft whimper as you pushed your hips into his. You pulled back and bit your bottom lip, both my hands resting on his chest.

“Jesus…You look so innocent right now.” He flipped you both over, his hands pinning your arms to the bed. He moved closer his lips hovering near your ear.

“It makes Daddy wanna ruin you.” He moved back slightly, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. He slowly kissed down your neck, his hands sliding up your crop top exposing naked breasts. You heard him groaned as he looked down at your body. You let out a needy whine as his lips enclosed around your nipple, his right hand stroking up and down your body soothingly, his other gently massaging your left breast as his mouth tend to the right. He continued kissing down your stomach making you arch into his touches, biting your lip to keep from whining again. As he reached the top of your high waist Calvin’s you gripped his shoulders your manicured stiletto nails digging into his flesh. He groaned and sucked a hickey into your ribs which you both knew would be gone before you finished but he didn’t care.

“Those little claws are going to be the death of me kitten.” He groaned as he tore off your undies you were about to snap at him for breaking your favourite pair of undies but when his lips were hovering over your dripping pussy you lost all words.

“I’ll buy you some of the same ones in pink whatever you want baby.” He spoke as if he knew you weren’t happy about the undies.

“P-Please Daddy…” You cried out as he kissed everywhere but the source of your problem.

“What do you want princess?” His hands rubbed circles into your hips making you buck into his touches.

“Touch m-me…Please D-Daddy…” You tried to clench your thighs together for some kinda of frictions but Kai pushed them down spreading them further as he did. Instead of replying he finally moved his lips to your soaking pussy, he licked softly at your clit causing you to lurch forward at the sudden immense amount of pleasure. Your hands thread through his hair tugging on it slightly. He didn’t give you any warning before entering you with two fingers, making you arch up in surprise, a moan making its way past your lips. Kai’s lips pulled away from your clit his husky voice only making your arousal worse.

“God your moans are filthy. Daddy’s so hard baby girl.” You tugged at his hair making his hiss, he sat up easing your hands off his hair and pulled his shirt off. You looked his toned body up and down admiring the view as he pulled his pants and boxers off. You stared at his member which was a lot bigger than you had imagined, it was thick and it made you keen at the thought of it being inside you.

“Like what you see princess?” Kai asked smugness radiating off him but you didn’t care. You nodded biting your index finger watching him as he got between your legs his fingers soon re-entering you. Sighing in appreciation as you pushed yourself as far as you could onto his finger. He moved his hand slightly, the heel of his palm against your clit, his ring and index finger got into a certain position. You knew as soon as his finger started moving up and down what he was doing. You screamed as his finger pushed into your g-spot firmly, you’d only been with one other guy who knew how to find and hit your g-spot. Most men don’t know where it is. Your screams were getting louder as his up and down motions got faster, he placed his hand on your pubic bone to hold you down.

He grinned down at you clearly loving the reactions he was getting, you instantly felt your insides clench as he made you cum for the first time, you saw white as you fell off the edge into bliss. Your body was having little spasms as you came down from your high but apparently Kai wasn’t done because as you started to see slightly better he started doing it again. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“D-Daddy stop…” You sobbed your back arched slightly, another orgasm building up.

“Cum for me princess.” He demanded softly, his voice finally pushing you’ve over the edge once again as you felt yourself starting to squirt. It wasn’t loads but it was enough to make you flush in embarrassment. You knew what squirting was but had never experienced it so you were shocked beyond belief. You covered your face with your hands embarrassed at what had just happened. All of a sudden I felt Kai’s tongue at your entrance making your body twitch.

“God baby girl that was so hot…You taste so delicious.” He moaned as he continued lapping at the mess you had just made. You gasped at his words looking down at him in shock.

“D-Daddy I want your cock inside me…now.” You demanded you still managing to sound timid and embarrassed.

“Good because Daddy wants to see if he can do that again. With his cock this time.” Kai smirked as he moved his dick towards your entrance. As he pushed in slowly your hands grabbed onto him clawing at his back at a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He was by far the biggest you’d had making you feel fuller than you had ever felt. Once he was full inside he started thrust slowly changing his angles until he found what he was looking for. Once he found your g-spot again he started thrusting into it roughly.

“Shit! O-Oh god Daddy!” You screamed your nails still digging into his flesh drawing blood, making his speed increase.

“Princess you’re so tight I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.” He groaned his breath fanning across your cheek. Your body started to build for the third time tonight, your walls clenching round him.

“M-Me too Daddy…S-So close.” You screamed in pleasure as you felt yourself building further.

“Come on baby girl cum all over Daddy’s cock.” He moaned huskily into your ear. With that you fell off the edge more powerful than the previous two times, you felt Kai pull back still pounding into you mercilessly as he watched you cum undone all over him.

“P-Please Daddy cum inside my pussy.” You moaned seductively, biting your index finger for emphasis. He bite his lip letting out a pleasure filled groan as you felt his hot seed spill into you. You moaned as some of the hot seed trickled out because of the shear amount. He rolled off you and laid next to you pulling you close to his chest.

“Well done baby. You made Daddy very happy.” You sighed contently as he stroked your hair lovingly, whispering words of praise into your damp hair. After about 5 minutes he detangled himself from you making you whine.

“I’ll be back in a minute I need to get you some juice.” He said softly lend over the bed and kissing your forehead gently. You shook your head and made grabby hands at him.

“You want to come with me?” He asked softly, you just nodded in response. He chuckled and made his way to get you some clothes. He grabbed his shirt and boxers then left the room coming back with some panties and a cloth. He slid on his boxers and some joggers before moving over to dress you. He wiped you down before sliding his top on to you that he’d been wearing previously and the panties he’d just brought you. You sighed happily as he made sure your socks were set right before picking you up bridal style. You let out a giggle as he sped downstairs only to come to an immediate stop in the living room. You looked up at him confused before you saw his face. You looked at what he was looking at, there sat Enzo, Damon, Bonnie and Tyler. You jumped out of Daddy’s arms, which was a big mistake as you literally couldn’t stand. Kai caught me before you fell lifting you back up with a worried look on his face.

“Well this is sufficiently awkward.” Tyler whisper under his breath. You dared to turn and look at your brother, a blush covering your cheeks.

“That was kinda hot not gonna lie, though I didn’t take Y/N as a screamer.” Damon snickered making Enzo shoot him a death glare shut him up instantly.

“Well I’m happy for you. Your brother would probably say the same if he wasn’t so mentally scarred right now.” Bonnie added smiling softly at you.

“You heard her from all the way upstairs Bonnie!?” Kai screeched making you look up at him.

“Yeah…” Bonnie replied cautiously, at that Kai appeared to preen like he’d been told he was a god. You rolled your eyes smiling softly.

“Don’t look so smug Malachai. When I get a hold of you. You’re not gonna have a dick.” You heard Enzo growl as he sped towards both of you. Kai ran to the other side of the living room placing you of the couch gently, like that was his only concern. Suddenly he was yanked back you grabbed the nearest heavy object ready to throw it when Bonnie stopped you shaking her head. You looked at her confusedly before turning to look at your brother. Enzo had his fist back ready to throw a punch at Kai who was pinned to the coffee table.

“Fine hit me if it makes you feel better but that not gonna stop me. I’ve waited far too long for this and I won’t give her up now. You might think my feels are just lust but they’re not! She’s the reason I’m trying to repent, trying to make myself better. The moment I saw her pure and innocent smile I wanted to be a man worthy of her.” You sat there shocked at his confession your hands trembling as you took in every word he said. He glanced over at you and smiled softly. You took a deep breath and smiled back at him. Your brother turned to look at me seeing the smile you had on your face. Enzo let him going letting Kai get up but making no move to help him.

“Just know if you ever hurt her. I will torture you before I kill you.” Enzo snapped before sitting down next to Bonnie. Kai nodded and left the room quietly. He soon came back with a glass of orange juice and a blood bag. He sat down passing you the glass before stroking your hair as you drank the juice, you shot him a smile as you finished the juice. He nodded smiling as if to say an unspoken ‘Good Girl’ after that you cuddled and sat with everyone talking around you.

You’ve never been as happy as you are in this moment.

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