#can't wait to feel like i got run over by a truck in a few hours 🤠

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)

Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.

Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.

Word Count | 5.1K

Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.

SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 

“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 

A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 

Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 

“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 

“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 

“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”  

Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 

It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 

He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 

“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 

“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 

“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 

“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 

Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 

“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 

“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 

“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 

“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 

“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 

“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 

Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 

“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 

“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 

You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 

Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 

He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 

The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 

“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 

“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 

You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”

“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 

“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 

You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 

You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 

He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 

You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 

“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 

“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 

You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 

He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 

Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 

It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 

You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 

“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 

“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 

“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 

“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 

“Wanna taste you.” 

“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 

You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 

It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 

You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 

You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 

“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 

“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 

You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 

“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 

“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 

Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 

“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 

You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 

He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 

“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 

“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 

It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 

“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 

He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 

The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 

He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 

With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 

“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 

He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 

“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 

His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 

He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 

“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 

“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 

He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.

You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 

“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 

“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 

He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 

His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 

“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 

You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 

“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 

You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 

“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 

“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 

“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 

He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 

He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 

One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 

You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 

“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 

“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 

“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 

His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 

He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 

When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 

“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 

You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 

You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 

His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 

You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 

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[zahri-melitor]

One of the many tragedies of Jack Drake is that not only was he bad at being a parent, but that he had the perfect person to discuss how hard the experience was for him right there and yet the only conversation they ever have about parenting Tim is conducted at gunpoint.

Because look at Jack Drake. As far as he was concerned, he had everything under control until Janet died and his world fell apart.

Tim was a Good Kid™ as a kid. He was well behaved and polite and not a difficult child and that's obvious from the fact that many of his memories of his parents together are of being taken out in public. Jack and Janet had one kid and they clearly wanted that kid to enjoy the same things they did, so they took him with them to restaurants and museums and art galleries and the opera. And he enjoyed it and enjoyed that time with them.

Jack however clearly saw his role as a father and a husband in the very traditional position as the main provider. It was his job to work and bring in the income that supported their lifestyle (his depressive episode after losing the company and their having to move makes it very clear how much of his self-worth was tied up in that role). He had a son, but his time with Tim was pretty clearly about taking Tim out with him on a Saturday afternoon to watch sport, or play tennis with his friends, or go to the monster trucks, or go fishing: being able to spend a few hours with Tim and show him off to his friends and then return home and someone else took over looking after Tim. And in his mind, he clearly thought he was a good parent! He spent time with his son! His son was a credit who was worth showing off! He could take Tim with him when he and Janet went out for the evening, and Tim could be relied upon to behave. He was winning at being a father!

The part Jack never realised, of course, was that like many men in his position, he'd handed the day to day logistics of raising a kid over to his wife (Janet) and to people he paid to do it for him (Tim's boarding school). He wasn't the disciplinarian parent. He was the 'fun' parent, who got to have the good times with his child.

If Jack was ever actually involved in decisions about discipline and consequences of actions, it was probably at the ultimate stage: the 'wait til your father gets home' sort of threat. The nuclear option. He didn't handle the everyday stuff - he probably never SAW the everyday stuff.

So, Jack thinks he's a great parent. He can brag to his friends about how well behaved HIS child is, unlike those little ruffians you see screaming in public or whose parents can't take them anywhere because they're disruptive.

Then his world falls apart. He's injured and disabled and grieving. He's a single dad. And the kid he's got is suddenly not the child he remembers. Tim frequently acts out, lies, runs away and comes home with bruises and notes from school saying they’re worried something is going on. He also starts dating and possibly trying to have sex ‘too young’ (being caught with Ariana sleeping over and the couch situation, Steph being pregnant even if Tim insisted it wasn't his).

Jack Drake has to suddenly step up to be the main parent of a 14 year old who he's probably never had that dynamic with. He doesn't have the years of experience in how Tim reacts to various forms of boundaries and punishments, because he's never been the one who set them or enforced them. He's probably never sat down and talked to Tim about his feelings in his life. And Tim, I repeat, is fourteen years old, possibly one of the most difficult ages for a kid. Everyone's 14 year olds are suddenly more difficult than usual and pushing boundaries.

On top of that, he's got to learn this all on the fly, in circumstances where he basically has no support. "Help, I'm a new single father to a teenager' isn't really a genre of self help book or parenting group that gets a lot of love - most people who are single parents aren't men, and most people looking for advice on dealing with problems with raising their kids are talking about under-5s, because by the time kids are out of the toddler stage most parents have a reasonable idea of what works and what doesn't, have networks set up, and are usually reaching out for a bit of advice or support about a specific situation, not Dealing With It All.

What Jack really needs is a buddy or two who are also single fathers to teenage boys, who have experience navigating this, maybe who also acquired responsibility for their son in his teen years. Wow. I mean that's a big ask, but funnily enough, there's someone who lives right next door who exactly fits that description...

(The tragedy that Bruce and Jack only ever have the one discussion about parenting Tim, the kid they've been effectively co-parenting since Tim was 13 years old, and that that discussion took place with Jack holding a gun on Bruce).

So of course Jack is terrible at being a parent to Tim. He's inexperienced, he doesn't have any support, he doesn't SEEK support outside of marrying Dana (and Dana clearly while lovely is both ineffective and reluctant to interfere in Jack and Tim's relationship). Now, he fails on very specific axes, in ways that are both understandable and also signs that Jack has a bad handle on his temper.

His go-to threat is sending Tim back to boarding school, because: when Tim was at boarding school, Jack didn't have any discipline issues with Tim! It clearly worked!; Tim doesn't want to go back to boarding school, making it a threat to hold over him; again, Jack's seeing a kid who is sneaking around, lying, running away and he's at his wits end - there's a narrative in the circles he lives in that such kids DO need to be taught to behave and sending them to boarding school is a way to do that.

He runs hot and cold on paying attention to Tim because up until Tim was 14 that was...what he did! And it wasn't such an issue then, as he wasn't a single parent. And when he pays attention, he does tend to be focused (laser focused, in fact), in getting Tim out of No Man's Land, of the dramas at school during Cry of the Huntress when Jack's getting outraged over Tim's bruises and getting into fights, when he's arguing with Ariana's uncle over whether Tim and Ariana's relationship was going too far.

It's just that he never developed the day to day, in between level of parenting and boundary setting and discipline. He's got a temper, and he swings between "it'll be fine, Tim's a smart kid, I trust him" laid back permissiveness, and getting mad and going immediately to the nuclear option: "You are going back to boarding school!" and so on.

He doesn't know how to walk away and calm himself down when he's worked up. He's not particularly good at redirecting his aggression. And he gets easily frustrated, because in his mind everything went smoothly for years...until it was all his responsibility.

And the thing is, there are so many ways Jack could have tried harder to be a good parent, that were available to him. But because of his background and the culture he lived in and the demands of storytelling he never reached out for any of them.

(And Bruce was right there! They knew each other socially! Everyone knew Bruce had worked through having two teenage sons on his own! He could have asked for advice, and he even knew Bruce knew Tim, given Bruce had officially fostered Tim while Jack was in a coma and in hospital. If you were putting together a specific support group you'd kick yourself over how perfect this was)

It's just such a part of the tragedy of Jack Drake.

#dc meta #jack drake

[erwinsvow]

not to derail at all but i see your kook!reader (cause I love it, and how catty she is) at midsummers and raise you, pogue!reader having to choose between jj and rafe, when the gang decide to ditch the party. she’s there as kie’s +1 and when the whole thing goes tits up reader is stuck between the guy she’s been crushing on for years or the kook king who clearly has the hots for her which she not against.

also, you are genuinely one of my fave writers on this hellsite 😍😍😍 notifications on and every thing

baby i am gonna sob you are SOOO nice. notifs on? i am so beyond flattered. i love u <33 this idea is GOLDEN oh my god the brainrot im having rn. im gonna try to write a little for you but i cant even put it into words

kiara said you'd make the whole thing a lot more bearable. plus, out of your little pogue group, you were her parents' unspoken favorite, so it just seemed natural for you to tag along to midsummers as her plus one.

and as much you loved your best friend and thought the world of her for inviting you, your heart was pounding your chest while you got ready in kie's bedroom, applying make up and curling your hair and putting on your best (and one of your only nice clothes) dress.

dolled up like this, you even looked the part of the kook princess that you were sure was rafe cameron's type.

even the idea of thinking about him, and impressing him or him seeing you like this, felt guilty. it made a painfully acrid taste shoot into your mouth and run through your blood—there was no one your friends hated more than the boy you'd had a crush on for as long as you can remember.

it was stupid, ever even talking to him, getting involved and sneaking off for late night drives in his truck and meeting up in hidden corners where no one else could see. that's all it was though, secret encounters and a few kisses.

you hadn't let it progress further, knowing how your friends would react, knowing how rafe is. you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell you you're just like your pogue friends that he hates so much. he doesn't, though, that's what makes this so much harder.

out of all your friends, the idea of one in particular finding out there was or had been or was going to be something between you and rafe made you feel dizzy and uncomfortable all over. jj was always your closest friend, always the one you relied on for everything—he had helped you countless heartbreaks and emotions and moments of doubt.

a small part of you had always thought the two of you would end up together. everyone joked about it, pope and john digging into him for carrying you home when you get too drunk or lost your shoes on the beach, kiara teasing you when she finds out jj slept over your place again.

the idea of either finding out about your attachment for the other made you feel queasy. walking into midsummers with kie, the hem of your yellow dress rustling near your thighs, you thought you were safe since only rafe would be there tonight. you thought wrong.

rafe is talking to you when jj shows up.

"y'look nice." you stare up at him, unsure of what to say. "what? now i can't say somethin' nice?"

"when do you ever say something nice?" you ask, but your smile reveals itself before you can hold it back. rafe looks at you like he could get used to seeing you like this.

"m'always nice to you. i don't know, kid, this is nice. y'should come to the club with me some time." you laugh, looking down at your shoes.

"i don't know about all that-"

"hey, you. mandatory power hour at rixon's. c'mon, princess." you turn to see jj, face bruised and knuckles bleedng. you look back at rafe, and he looks smug, it's only then you notice his messed up hair.

"jayj? what's going on?"

"rafe, i mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, go away. tryna have a talk with my girl here, so-" your face burns.

"m'sorry, your girl?"

"apology not accepted. so if you could direct yourself over there to fuck off, that would be fantas-"

"j, wha- what's going on? how long have you been here?"

"long enough for cameron over here to set his little lap dogs on me. c'mon, i'm getting kie and pope and then we gotta go-"

"but, i, i-" you stop yourself, to think about what to say, when rafe cuts you off again.

"she's not going anywhere, we're having a conversation that you interrupted, fuckin' pogue."

"botherin' pretty girls, yeah, that sounds about right. get it through your thick skull, bud, she's not interested-"

"um, guys-" rafe shrugs, staring back at jj.

"that's not what she said last night. or the night before. so how about you do yourself a favor-"

"fuck's he talking about, princess?" jj looks at you, and you look at him, and then rafe, head spinning.

"yeah, kid, the fuck is he talkin' about?"

the glass in your hand drops and shatters when you faint and fall over.

#hahah she had to faint to get out of this mess yall !!! #this was so fun to write i adore u so much <3 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #jj maybank

[auteurdelabre]

Please Mister Miller? Part 5 CheatingJoel!Millerxf!Reader

"Please Mister Miller" part 5

Rating: 18+

Words: 4.3k

Tags/warnings: Cheating, Unprotected P in V, Dirty Talk, Public Sex, Almost Caught, Joel has a ‘Daddy’ kink, car sex, mirror sex, Feelings

Summary:  Joel has to run errands and you tag along. . .

a/n: I took a poll and y’all wanted to see this sleazy pair keep gettin’ off so I hope you like it! As usual drop the comments because I live for ‘em.

masterlist

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“I'm heading into town," Joel says with eyes on everyone but you. "Gotta get some replacement lights and run a few errands if anyone wants to join."

It's the next morning and you're all around the breakfast table eating cereal and chatting about your plans for the day. You're seated next to Joel, eyes on your bowl as your thigh presses against his under the table. He keeps his leg there, not shying from your touch. It makes you feel warm all over.

"I can't," Sarah says, the lie she told you yesterday already on her lips. "I have to grab a few things from the storage locker before we go home." 

She's really going to see Charlie one last time before she heads home. 

"I'm going to the office for a few hours, remember?" Tess says through a mouthful, her eyes on her phone. 

"Oh right," Joel says as if he'd forgotten.

"I could go with you," you say lightly. "I have a few things I need to mail off back home."

"Sure, if you want."

Joel shrugs back as if he couldn't care less. But seated next to him you see the swell of his cock under his jeans. He's eager. 

That's good because so are you.

///

When you finally pull on your jacket and follow him to the garage an hour or so later you're forced to pause as you glance around curiously. You've never been in here, haven't seen this domain of his.

He's got a workbench meticulously organized with cork holders on the wall. But that's not what amazes you when you draw over to it. It's the tiny intricate carvings there, one of a snowman and another of an angel.  

"I didn't know you carved," you say curiously. 

Joel shrugs, not saying more. You know why, it's the same reason you don't share more about yourself. It's not relevant to what you want from one another. 

"Ready to go?"

You nod, pulling yourself up into his truck and buckling yourself in. He backs out of the driveway, neither of you speaking.

For some reason this feels tense, the drive quiet and punctuated only by the gentle hum of the radio playing holiday favorites. Eventually the tension gets to Joel because he clears his throat. 

"So you're goin' back tomorrow."

"Yep."

"You excited?'

You look at Joel from the corner of your eyes, amusement clear in your features. It's such a dad thing to say. He looks uneasy, his dark eyes flicking from you to the road. 

"You don't have to pretend like you care," you tell him gently. 

"Who says I don't?"

"Joel," you say the meaning clear. 

This is fucking. This is carnal. This isn't a relationship. It's not a friendship. It's release, plain and simple. 

Joel doesn't like this. You can see it in the way he drums his thick fingers over the wheel, his dark brows furrowed. He's a man who cares, even if he tries not to and so he tries another tactic. 

"You got someone waiting for you back at school?"

You give a scoff.  "Nope. Got dumped right before Christmas. S'why Sarah brought me with her."

Joel gives a humming noise, looking thoughtful, his presence calming. It makes you feel like you should continue. 

"He was my first boyfriend," you say with your eyes on your hands in your lap. "When we broke up he said it was because he didn't want to settle down with the only girl he slept with."

Joel inhales slowly through his nose, your words upsetting him enough to now tighten his fist around the steering wheel. 

"Idiot boy to let you go."

You give a weak smile, holding back the tears that build behind your eyes. "The worst part is I thought we were getting engaged."

Joel's eyes widen. "Shit."

"Yeah," you nod again. "But, you know, it was for the best. I've realized after this week with you that he was terrible in bed."

Joel lets out a surprised laugh at this; warm and full. It makes you smile to hear it. He says nothing further and the silence descends once more, but this one comfortable. Eventually you stop at a big box store with Joel jogging in to grab the lights he told Tess he'd bring home. 

As you watch him you can't help but imagine what life as Joel's partner would be like. A cozy home with beautiful paintings on the walls. The smell of leather and wood shavings clinging to him as he rolls over in the morning, gathering you into his arms. 

There's a longing there, a sudden desire for more than sex. A warmth that you weren't expecting when this all started. 

Joel returns shortly with a box of lights under his arms and a plastic bag in the other. You look at his body, the wide shoulders and the strong thighs. Your eyes meet his and you see the desire in them as he winks at you. 

If you can't have him as your partner, you'll have him now. You'll have him any way you can. Joel gives you a small smirk as he tosses the lights and bag in the back seat of the truck.

"If Tess asks, you and I had a hard time choosing the best set."

You and I.

His words rattle around in your mind. 

You steal glances at him as the drive continues out of town, to where the trees are fuller, the landscape more desolate. You feel Joel's hand on your knee, fingers tracing small lines over the inside of your bare thighs. 

You sigh happily, basking in the warmth of Joel's touch. When his hand slides higher you part your legs without hesitation, eyes watching from under lowered lids as his long fingers skate under your skirt. 

His fingers curl under the fabric, ready to hit cotton and you hold a giggle as you wait for him to realize. He darts a look at you. 

"No panties?"

"Nope," you grin. 

"Good fucking girl," Joel murmurs approvingly. His voice scratches an itch deep inside you, making you preen. 

Traffic is thinning but the roads are still populated enough. That doesn't stop Joel from curling his fingers into you, marveling at how wet you are. 

"Always ready for me."

"Uh huh," you keen, hand flying to his. You maneuver his wrist slightly, pushing it deeper at that angle and crying out when it hits that sweet spot. 

"That's right," Joel encourages with a grin. "You show me what you like." 

He drives the truck, cock hard under his jeans as you give shuddering breaths beside him. His fingers dance over your slick clit as you try to remain composed, hearing as your cunt milks his fingers, your thighs quivering. He darts his eyes from you to the road and back again.

"C'mon baby," Joel urges you, his cheeks pinking. "Gimme a good one."

You do. Your hips buck into his hand as you cry out, body jolting in the seat and feeling your warm release dripping over his palm like honey.  

You watch in a daze as Joel brings his slick fingers out from under your skirt to his mouth, licking slowly. 

"Tastes so sweet," he rumbles. 

You let out a small moan at the sight of it. Your hand reaches for the bulge in his jeans but he shakes his head, gently pressing your hand away to fold back in your lap. 

"Not yet," he says with a voice of sin. "Be patient."

You don't have to be patient for much longer. In less than fifteen minutes you've arrived at the destination, a large dirt pile on one side, gravel stacks on the other. It looks like an abandoned quarry. 

"Where are we?"

"Construction site my company is working on," Joel murmurs. He turns the car off, unbuckling his seatbelt. You raise a brow. 

"Why here?"

"Got lots of privacy," Joel says smiling, his body tilting to face you. "Can be as loud as we want." 

You duck your head, suddenly shy. You crack the window slightly, needing something to cool the heat in your cheeks. Joel shifts into the middle of the bench seat, down to business. There's no seduction, no romance.

"Over my lap," Joel murmurs gently, his eyelids already heavy. "C'mon now."

You smile shyly as you unbuckle yourself and crawl over the bench seat. You move delicately over his lap, breath leaving you as your abdomen goes over his muscular thighs. Your face is burning as he brings your skirt up over your ass to your waist, making a humming noise as he looks at the sweet flesh waiting for him. 

Joel slaps your ass, watching it jostle under his hand. You yelp in surprise, but not in pain. His wide hand grips one cheek, his groans low and long. 

"All for me," he mutters and you bite your lower lip, groaning at how deep his voice is when he says it. 

He smacks it again, his cock hardening further under you as he watches your ass jiggle deliciously.   

"You’re up for anything aren't you?" 

You consider this as he places another slap to your ass, hypnotized at how your flesh moves under his hand. 

"Yeah." 

"You like older men?"

"Dunno," you say, arching as Joel's hand continues slapping your ass. "You're my first."

"You lyin' to me?"

"No Mister Miller," you say honestly, tilting so you can meet his surprised gaze. "I've only slept with one other person."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah."

He almost snarls at that. He urges you to a kneeling position before he twists you to face away from him on your knees.

Your shirt is tugged off over your head by him, discarded by your purse on the floor of the truck. Joel is behind you, urging you onto all fours on the seat as he pulls down his jeans. He grabs handfuls of your ass, squeezing and groaning. 

"Gonna let me fuck this little ass?"

For the first time since you've met him you pause. You've never done that before. It's never appealed to you. It still doesn't if you're honest. 

Joel seems to sense your hesitancy. You wait for him to chastise, to show his disappointment. But instead his voice drops an octave.

"On second thought, I wanna fuck that sweet pussy raw instead."

Joel is much more vocal here, less restrained in the privacy of his truck. You smile when you feel him notch himself at your entrance. 

"Gimme something to remember," Joel grunts out as he thrusts into you. You let out a hiss of pleasure at the sensation, hands curling around the worn material of the trucks seat. 

He sets a brutal pace, sending you flying if not for his hands holding your hips in place. He grunts out as he fucks into you, murmuring under his breath. You rock back and forth, ass bouncing off his hips as he thrusts. 

"Good girl ...good girl..."

You feel his wide right palm move to hold you in place by your lower back and you feel your pussy tighten around his cock. You jerk forward, your tits jolting as he slides between you, thrusting you forward and back.

"Use your left hand to pin me," you whimper. He's confused for a moment, hesitating before he does as you ask. He glowers at you when he realizes what you're after. 

"You want me looking at my wedding ring while I fuck you."

"Uh huh," you twist to look at him over your shoulder, smirking. He's looking at you with his jaw slack and eyes dark with desire.  Joel grunts out, hips smacking obscenely against the meat of your ass. 

"Want you to know how bad you’re being."

That you're choosing me an insidious voice whispers inside you. 

"Does your wife's pussy feel this good, Mister Miller?" you ask, moans being punched out of you with every thrust. "This wet 'n tight for you?" 

Joel gives a strangled groan as his hand tangles itself in your hair. He tugs, pulling you to arch against him. Your ass ripples with every thrust, your hands braced on the edges of the seat. 

"You fucking shut up and take this cock," Joel grunts out angrily. He watches your body start with every thrust into you. 

"I'll give you anything you want," you promise, voice cracking. "Just don't stop. You feel so fucking good."

"Pussy's never been fucked right," Joel tells you. 

"Uh uh," you shake your head as much as you can with Joel's fist still tugging. 

"Only fucked a boy," Joel says, his hips jerking forward. "When you needed a man's cock inside you."

"Yes Mister Miller," you groan out, tears flooding your waterline. It feels so fucking good. Not just because it's wrong but because he's so deep inside you and he knows what he's doing. 

"Gonna take all this come," Joel grunts and you can feel him starting to unravel.

 "Gonna take-"

Joel ceases abruptly, pulling from you so brutally you cry out. He practically shoves you away from him. 

"Put on your fucking clothes. Hurry."

There's a fear in his voice that you've never heard before. It prompts you to do as he asked, pulling the shirt back on and tucking it into your skirt. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans as you look out the rearview mirror just in time to see a cop car pulling up behind the truck .

"Shit," Joel swears and you can see the panic in his face. He knows how this looks. Alone with a college girl in his car, the band on his left finger a brutal reminder of how wrong it all is. 

The officer gets out of his car before slowly sauntering towards the truck. Joel is thankful for the cracked the window because fogged up windows would incriminate him absolutely. 

"Hey there," the officer says leaning over Joel's lowered window. 

"Hey officer," Joel says trying to sound calm. "I know I wasn't speeding..."

The two men chuckle lightly as you hold in an eye roll. Dad humor. 

"License and registration."

Joel's face is pinched as he leans over you to open the glove box. He pulls out some papers and then pulls his wallet from his back pocket, retrieving his license. You watch him pass off both to the officer. 

"What're you doing all the way out here... Joel Miller?" The officer says peering at the license from behind his aviators. 

My construction company is working on this site," Joel says, hands indicating out the windshield. "Wanted to check in on it over the holidays. Heard there were some break-ins nearby."

The officer’s eyes drag over to you, sitting quietly watching them. Suspicion fills the officers expression. 

"And you’re just tagging along, miss?"

Joel's head swivels to face you, eyes unreadable. But you know him; you can feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves. 

You straighten, giving the officer your best and brightest smile. The kind that says you're honest and trustworthy. The kind you use with professors when you need to turn in late assignments. 

"Yeah, my Daddy promised me a ride," you say, batting your eyelashes at the officer and smiling broadly. "I don't get to see him as much since I'm away at college." 

Joel is looking at you with a mix of confusion and horror. 

The officer's suspicion flees from his eyes, his countenance softening. You think that somewhere back home this officer has a daughter who ignores his texts, who rolls her eyes when he suggests a family game night. 

"Sweet she still wants to spend time with you at this age," the officer says almost fondly looking between you.

You nod, taking Joel's hand in yours. He's stricken, his hands barely curling around yours. 

"I'm really lucky," you say smiling sweetly at the officer. "He treats me so well but then again I'm always a good girl for you, right Daddy?"

You don't miss Joel's neck bobbing as you say this. Don't miss the swelling of his cock starting again under his jeans. He shifts, his shirt falling over the vee of his legs. 

"Yep," Joel nods stiffly. 

"I bet you are," the officer says with a warm smile. He hands Joel back his license before tapping a finger to the brim of his hat. "Well I won't interfere any more. Take care you two. Happy Holidays."

"Happy Holidays officer!" You chirp as Joel croaks out a weak farewell. You both watch as the officer loads back into his police car and drives off down the one way road. 

Minutes pass and the two of you are silent, waiting, watching. Finally you see Joel's shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. You giggle, relief flooding your senses. 

"Daddy?" Joel grimaces over at you. "Don't tell me you're one of those."

You shrug, uncertain. You may not be completely into it but Joel sure is, despite his denial. You see it in the blown out pupils of his dark eyes. 

"So do I get a ride?" you ask him as you crawl over to him, eyes trailing his body.  

"You insane?" Joel says with disbelief in his features. "We almost got caught by a fucking cop."

"He won't be back," you say grinning wickedly. Your finger goes to trace his still hard cock through his jeans. "And we both know you still want to." 

"Shouldn't," Joel groans even as he fumbles with the button and fly of his jeans. 

You crawl over his lap and situate yourself between Joel and the steering wheel, facing out the windshield. It’s so desolate, yet the thought that you could be caught turns you on. You start smiling as he tugs the t-shirt over your head again and pulls you onto his waiting cock. 

He slides seamlessly through your dripping folds, cupping your tits in his hands. You arch into his grip and begin to rock your hips. 

"Mhmmm, good girl."

You listen as Joel begins grunting behind you and you lean back, the back of your head tilted against his shoulder as he fucks up into you. Your hands hold loosely to his wrists whimpering when he begins to twist your nipples ever so slightly between his fingers. 

“Feels good, Daddy," you whisper, smirking when you hear Joel give a choke of surprise. 

You catch his heavy-lidded gaze in the rearview mirror and you grin. He likes that he can watch you fucking. You can see how he holds you against him, fucking up into you. You reach up to tilt the mirror slightly and then bring your legs up, forcing your thighs to part and giving a lewd view of where you’re connected. 

You bunch your skirt at your waist so you can both see him thrusting up between your legs in the mirrors reflection. You're both mesmerized at the sight of his glossy cock as it saws in and out of you.

"Daddy, you're so big."

"You're fucking sick," Joel says without conviction, his voice breathless. 

"Can feel you throbbing when I call you that, though." You giggle. "Can feel it when your fucking me with your big cock, Daddy."

Joel makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. You feel him tightening every time the word passes through your lips. 

"Stop pretending you don't like it, Mister Miller."

You give him a wink in the rearview mirror before just tilting back and enjoying the sight of you two fucking.  You both look good together, Joel’s handsome face over your shoulder so he can watch his cock splitting you over and over. You see your tits hanging out, rosy tipped nipples between his fingertips. They ripple as Joel enters you over and over. The slick of Joel's cock shines between your legs. 

His right hand slides over the crease of your thigh, nimble fingers gliding over the slick pearl of your clit. You give a gutteral moan as pleasure shoots through you. 

"Atta girl," Joel smiles broadly at your reflection, watching you bounce for him, his thumb circling your clit with shocking precision. 

You groan, your breathing becoming staccato-ed. You don't know how you're going to go back to regular life. How you're going to attend classes and pretend like this last week and a half never happened. 

"Feels good riding Daddy's cock, doesn't it?" Joel rasps against your ear, eyes still on yours in the mirror bringing you back to the present.

There he is. 

"Yes Daddy."

"Good girl."

It feels so debauched, so illicit. Joel still can't look away, eyes glued to the mirror and his hips move faster as he watches him fuck you in his truck. The same truck he drives to work and does the weekly shopping trip in. 

"So fuckin' good for Daddy... So fuckin' wet."

You can tell he's far gone, words slurring. You give a wide lurid smile, rocking your hips down over him. You watch his face in the mirror and see the glaze to his eyes, the way his jaw is hanging slightly ajar. He whimpers, a needy sound that lets you know you have him exactly where you need him. 

Joel groans, fingers dimpling your thighs as he fucks up into you faster. Your eyes are rolling back, making Joel jerk his hips up quicker. 

"Please," you moan. "Need it."

"What do you need, good girl?" 

"Need you to fill me up," you whine, voice breaking with every thrust of him into you. You rock against him, ass bouncing. 

"You need Daddy's come?" Joel grunts out, hand lightly holding you against him by the throat. 

You can only whine a reply of "yes!", being tugged so harshly against his cock that your teeth crash together. And then you feel that tension in you snap and pleasure floods you, causing you to let out cracked cries of "daddy please!" as you ride out your orgasm, watching Joel the entire time.

"Take it take it," Joel groans, hands going to your waist, holding you in place as his hips move with jerking desperation. "Daddy's girl, Daddy's good girl..."

You watch as Joel's face contorts, eyes slamming shut as he empties himself into you, crying out as he thrusts one finger time and you feel him erupt inside you. He buries his face in the back of your neck as his hips slowly stutter to a stop.

"Fuuuuck," he murmurs as he pulls his softening cock from between your legs. "That was good."

"It really was," you say, sagging against the steering wheel and giving a breathless laugh. Joel's hand is resting on your thigh, gently tracing his fingertips there. 

You take a moment to compose yourself before glancing over your shoulder to look at Joel. His face is so close, your lips almost grazing. You two lock eyes, breathing against each other's mouths. It's you who moves first, lips inching to his. But it's Joel who twists his head, blinking. 

"We should get back." 

Joel shifts and you pull yourself off of his lap, crawling back to where you were sitting. Joel leans back to grab something from the bag. 

"Here, I uh, I bought this earlier," Joel says handing you a packet of wipes and a small towel. You smirk before using them to clean his spend from between your legs. 

Eventually the truck starts and you watch the quarry grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. You drive in silence, not even the radio to accompany you on your journey back. 

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

You glance over at Joel who looks strangely withdrawn. "Sure."

"Why didn't you go home to your parents place? Didn't they miss you this Christmas?"

"They uh.... " you trail off, wincing a bit. "They don't really... My parents don't really care what I do. We all kinda do our own thing."

You can feel it immediately, the pity radiating off of Joel. It makes you cringe, your hands twisting around the edge of the seat. 

"Maybe if you tried talkin'-"

"I'd worry about your own family before you start giving me advice about mine," you snap out at him feeling irritable. Joel's dark eyes scan to you before going back to the road. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know Sarah has a secret boyfriend back here? Apparently your friends with his dad," you tell him, cheeks warm. "She's afraid you'll judge her if she tells you because he didn't finish college."

You see Joel's jaw clench and you feel so satisfaction at his discomfort. You realize it's not just about this, but the kiss he shied from earlier.

But guilt overwhelms you when you realize you've out-ed your best friend. 

"I'm not telling you this so you'll be shitty to her," you chastise. "I'm telling you this because you love your daughter and you guys have a great relationship. You're lucky."

You break off temporarily, swallowing.

"She really likes him. And if you tell her you hate him she's just gonna see him in secret like she has been this entire trip."

Joel drives silently, eyes narrowed. You know he's fighting an internal battle. 

"The way Sarah talks about you? You're her hero," you say quietly. "The thought of disappointing you kills her."

You see it in his eyes first, the softening as your words hit home. You see what it's like to be a father first and a disciplinarian second. You look away, feeling your heart being clutched at by a tight yet invisible grip.

Minutes later Joel's hand finds your knee as he drives, squeezing. 

"Thanks for tellin' me."

"You're welcome."

Finally you pull into the driveway, hiding the bag of wipes and hand towels under the passenger’s seat. Joel looks strangely sombre as he turns the ignition off, glancing at you. 

"You know, you're a very special-"

"Please Joel," you say wincing. "Don't." 

Before he can say anything more you slip from the truck, heading into the house, feeling his eyes following your every step.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #fanfic #smut #fanfiction #dad joel miller #cheating #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part eight

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: let the games begin!! i'm so excited (and also,, so scared)

series masterlist // playlist

The light streams through Coriolanus's window in the morning, waking him with the sun. He only has a moment of peace, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before the dread sets in; settling under his skin like a sliver.

He hurries to get dressed, letting Tigris help him with his blazer due to his shoulder injury making it necessarily difficult before he kisses his grandma'am goodbye, and they wish him (and you) good luck. They would be watching, of course, and that only served to build his anxiety as he hurried to the school.

You hardly slept for a moment the whole night. When you finally did, the sun was beginning to rise and you were woken up not long after by peacekeepers urging you back into the truck. No one had anything to say on the drive. You all knew what was coming, and the tension in the air was palpable. You felt safer with the scarf wrapped firmly around yourself and the compact in your pocket, which you run your thumb over repeatedly to try and memorize the ornate carvings on the outside. It was Coryo's, and he was with you. You couldn't forget.

As the truck slows to a stop, you take a deep breath. "The third day comes a frost, a killing frost." You mutter to yourself, turning the heads of the tributes next to you as you force yourself to your feet. "The elements be kind to thee, and make thy spirits all of comfort: fair thee well."

Your slightly louder statement is met with hateful glares by a few, ignored by others. "I can't wait to hear your last words. Freak." Coral spits at you, shoving past you as the doors of the now stopped truck are opened. You swallow thickly, catching the eyes of the little one, Wovey. You give her a smile, allowing her to walk out ahead of you. She's scared, and you can tell as you place your hands on her shoulders, soothingly rubbing them while you walk out and see the arena again.

As you're led inside, separated from Jessup, and you quickly understand what Coryo meant. Everything was different. The debris had been cleared but stacked in the center of the floor, and as you got closer, you began to see weapons littered all over the pile of rubble. The thought of what you were about to see made you sick, more so as you pushed through the familiar turnstile. 

"Enjoy the show!"

Coryo is already watching as you walk out. He has been watching for you since the moment the screen shifted from the Games logo to a camera view of the entrance. And there you were. He swallowed, seeing the worsening bags under your eyes and the cut on your arm with healing black stitches. You have that much younger girl under your arms, walking her in front of you as you hold her close. You whisper something in her ear that the microphones don't pick up, which makes her smile, even just a little before you're quickly forced apart by peacekeepers.

"Stand on your marks or you will be shot!" A peacekeepers voice calls out as you feel the weapon jabbed into your back, making you wince. You find your place, looking around frantically now to try and spot the hole in the ground Coryo told you about, or maybe you should try and get up in the stands. But if you get in the tunnel quickly, even if you're being chased that will buy you a few moments where you wouldn't be seen. Maybe you could hide and not be found.

What about Jessup? Or Wovey? Your mind wanders, despite you trying to adhere to Coryo's advice. You decide that wherever you run when the bell goes off, if you saw either of them on the way you would pull them with you. If not, you would just have to keep going. You had no desire in getting close to the mess that was about to happen in the centre as soon as people got their hands on those weapons.

You thought you knew you would die in these games, but as your adrenaline starts to spike, you knew you would at least try to stay alive. Your body wouldn't let you wait for your fate to come. Originally, that had been your plan. When your name was called at the reaping, even though you had planned to run by what you wore, you intended on dropping to your knees at the sound of the buzzer and awaiting whatever fate would take you. What had changed?

Coriolanus. That's what had changed. You just regretted that you wouldn't live to know if he won his prize, and see never see him again. You had to see him again.

That's when your eyes landed on Marcus, hanging by his wrists from a beam across the room from you. "Oh..." You sigh sadly, shaking your head as you look at his state. He had tried to save you along with himself, but he hadn't succeeded and that just breaks your heart. You hear crying as tears of fear well up in your own eyes but you force them down as you hear Lucretius's voice over the loudspeakers counting down.

Only ten seconds, and you had to decide. The vent behind you was looking awfully tempting, but you weren't sure what Coryo wanted. It sounded like he preferred the tunnels, and you had to listen to him. But then, seeing the hole in the floor, you would have to make it past all the chaos and the weapons and the other tributes.

"Three... two... one..."

Then it was the buzzer, and as your heart pounded in your chest and seemingly everyone else sprinted for the middle, you were frozen. You had to move fast.

"Run." Coryo mumbles to himself, silently begging you to remember what he told you.

But you stayed still. "What are you doing, run." He says again under his breath, and it's almost like you can hear him when you start running out of nowhere.

You're already surrounded by screams and grunts as you make your way to the wall behind you, flashes of orange hardly visible under the arm holes of your dress. The vent. Apparently, you decided on the vent. As you begin to climb the debris leading up to the stands you look back to make sure you're not being followed, but among the fighting and the lifeless bodies you see Jessup. He's stumbling, then crawling, and you curse yourself for what you're about to do, but your conscience has given you no choice.

"Don't. Don't go back for him." Coryo hisses, unable to look away.

You can practically hear Coryo telling you not to in your mind, but you're already sliding back down the broken cement and looking for your safest path to the boy from your District.

His mental state had declined rapidly in the last few days, you were sure it was from infection. When you walked into the arena, he didn't even know where he was. In a sad way, that was good. At least he didn't know what was coming for him.

"Jessup!" You call out, making your run for it along the wall, sliding to a stop when something metal clangs against the cement just in front of you that someone had thrown. You don't have time to see who the source was before you keep running, determined to at least get Jessup somewhere hidden.

Coryo is on the edge of his seat as he watches the close call, unable to relax even when their next couple of attempts miss as well. You were far from safe- you were making a mistake and all he could do was watch it happen. You couldn't run alongside the wall forever, so as you departed from it in a beeline for your friend, he holds his breath.

"Jessup!" You call again, trying to attract his attention but it doesn't work. You quickly duck when you hear a scream just to your right, seeing someone's form winding up to swing at you.

You yelp and stumble back as their weapon just catches the top of your hair, pulling it slightly as your dodge just out of their reach. The dirty ground was near impossible to run on, forcing them to slide past you over the dust under their feet. You keep moving even as another flying weapon in your shared direction distracts them.

You have to keep going. You reach Jessup as quickly as you can, trying to lift him up to his feet with a grip under his arms. "Jessup, come on, we have to go. We have to run, get up!" He stumbles to his feet and with an arm over your shoulder, you're running for the tunnels. You're being chased, you can hear it- Coral and her alliance that you had tried to join at Coryo's request but never got the chance, not that they would have approved anyway. You jump feet first into the opening in the ground, not worried about what's at the bottom as you roll down the debris that previously made up the floor above.

"Come on, come on!" You urge your friend again, once again helping him up and dragging him down the hall. There had to be a place to hide here somewhere; Coryo said there would be.

"They've gone underground very quickly, but we're prepared for this." Lucky says, but Coryo isn't paying any attention to anything other than you.

"Go, go, go..." He mutters, nodding as he watches the cameras switch to keep up with you.

Just as you finally find a door, you see others running toward you from down the hall. You pull helplessly at it, hoping it will open. It doesn't. With nowhere to go you look back, knowing you can't go that way either. "Open! Please!" You cry out, shaking the handle of the heavy metal door and kicking it in frustration.

Except, you miss. Your foot seemingly goes through the door, smacking your shin against it and you hiss. There's a hole in the door, just big enough for you to fit through. "Jessup, we've gotta go through. Come on! Hurry!" You urge him, already halfway through yourself.

Thankfully, he's right behind you. You quickly turn to help pull him through when his ankle gets grabbed.

You scream in a moment of panic, desperately pulling on his arms to try and help him up. Hy is who you quickly identify as the tribute holding him back, but luckily they aren't holding any kind of weapon. "Stop! Stop!" You cry out, pulling on your friend as you look around the room for somewhere else to run.

Their grip only loosens when they scream, lifelessly dropping their grip from the boy as he gets up and their body is dragged back through the hole in the door. You don't have time to process how gruesome that was, quickly hiding behind a wall across the room.

"Hey, Lumberjack." You hear Coral whispering from the other side. "Get in there and get her out."

"I'm not sticking my head in there." Treech replies, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. "She could be waiting with a brick."

"That softy? She's not gonna hurt you! Let's just get them out of the way!"

"Then you do it."

A moment of silence follows before she replies. "Whatever. They have to come out eventually."

Coryo swallows as he watches them walk away. For now, you were safe.

"Okay, Jessup, take a seat..." You whisper to him after a good few moments, sure the other tributes had left by now. He nods, and you help him down, leaning back against the cold wall as you crouch in front of him. "I have to go, okay?"

He looks confused. "Where are you going? The mines..."

"We're not in the mines, Hun..." You remind him, gently pulling his coat tighter around him in some effort to keep him warm. "I just have to go, but you'll be safe down here. You just have to wait it out."

He nods, but he clearly doesn't understand. "Wait... wait for what?"

"A little madness in the spring is wholesome even for the king..." You hum, smiling sadly at him. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Jessup just nods as you stand, heading back for the door. You have to make it to those vents. Coryo would want you alone, and with Jessup safe enough down here, you had to move on. You look back at him, only briefly, trying to remember the last time you would ever see the boy from your home when your eyes catch on a hatch in the ceiling. The vents.

You walk back over, looking up and squinting to see how you could get in. There's a steady-looking pipe that runs underneath it, but you can't quite reach it.

You're reaching into your top without looking away, pulling out the tucked-in knot of the scarf and untying it. Coryo's handiwork.

"Has she... Has she been wearing that this whole time? Is that allowed?" Lucky asks, looking around but no one has any answers. Except Coriolanus, who would not be responding anyway. You pull it out from under your dress as he watches the screen, smiling to himself as you throw the fabric up over the pipe and use it to hoist yourself up and disappear into the vent. He couldn't see you anymore, but he hoped no one else would find you in there either.

It would be hours before he saw you again. Everyone's attention is drawn at first by Lamina climbing out from inside the debris, heading toward Marcus as he hung from the fallen beam. Then, to Coryo's surprise, the camera flits over to you as the vent is pushed open and you poke your head out. How you had made it up into the stands was beyond him, but the vents must have led you there.

You wince at the loud creaking sound it makes, making Lamina turn quickly toward you. You hold your hands out defensively as you step out, nodding at her in a silent promise before you climb down the wall. "I won't hurt you." You verbally reassure her as you slowly get closer, hands still held out in front of you to prove to her that you don't have any weapons. She did, but you weren't scared.

The scarf is tied around your waist, the long fabric draping down and brushing the side of your bare leg with every step. You were covered in dust and dirt, Coryo notices, as you stop next to her. "Are you going to help him down?" You ask her, and she just nods, both of you looking up at him.

"Let me help." You offer, making your way over to the side of the beam where you think you could climb up. "Marcus, Honey, we're going to help you down, okay? Just try and relax. It'll just be another minute." You call out, but you're met with no response. Your brow furrows, unsure if he's even alive as you climb the rest of the way up.

"Marcus?" You ask, crawling across the beam and leaning over him as you hear Lamina climbing up behind you. You reach down to check his pulse, and you're met with one that's very faint. "Marcus, you'll be okay. We're gonna help." You tell him again and he opens his eyes, turning his head just slightly to look up at you.

"Please..." He mutters, voice raspy and pained.

"I know, I know... Just give us a minute."

"No... Don't..." He coughs out, shaking his head with tears in his eyes. "Please..."

And then you know what he means. You look back at Lamina as she sits behind you, shaking your head as tears well up in your eyes. You can't kill him, you just can't- but if that is his wish...

She looks between the two of you, giving you a slight nod. You can't even look at the axe you know is still in her hand.

You move over to his other side, reaching out to hold his hand in your shaking one.

Coryo wants to look away from the screen but he can't. His eyes are glued to you as tears fall, and you lean down to speak to the dying boy. "Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality." You tell him quietly, a sad smile on your face. "Know that you are loved. And know that I am sorry."

He chokes out a sob as Lamina moves his shirt away from his neck, looking to you as she lifts her axe. You squeeze his hand and nod at her. "You are loved. I love you. I am sorry. I love you." You remind him over and over, wanting the last thing he hears to be a reminder of the truth, but by the end, by the time Lamina brings her axe down against his skin, you're just praying he could hear your words through your cries.

As Coryo watches your donations tick up even further, you and the girl you are meant to kill are crying into each other's arms, Marcus's body limp on the ground beneath you.

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #hunger games #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #thg movies #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

[avenging-fandoms]

I have this very specific scenario of being in a car with Pedro driving and making eye-contact from the backseat jn the mirror,,,, like that tension

Could also be with Joel and in his truck

If Pedro was asked by anyone in the world to describe you with just one word, it'd be stubborn.

And there you were, being as stubborn as always in the backseat. You were mad at him because he wouldn’t stop at Starbucks before running errands, when he was the one that woke you up early.

So now you were sitting in the backseat behind him, arms crossed as you stared at the window. "Are you really going to sit back there and pout?" Pedro turned his head towards the left to talk to you, and you just sat back. He chuckled to himself and adjusted his hips, draping his hand over the wheel.

You were really going to sit back there and pout. It was an early morning on Saturday. Saturdays are for sleeping in and getting treats. You got neither.

Pedro cursed the Gods above that he was wrapped around your finger. Pedro typed 'Starbucks' into his map and followed the blue routes. You watch as the scenery changes to not that familiar, not the same route to the grocery store.

You bit back a smile as he turned on his signal to turn into Starbucks. With your head still turned towards the window, you look at Pedro's right shoulder then up to the rear view. His eyebrows were furrowed from the sun, and his eyes shifted towards you.

You could feel your chest tighten. A knife couldn't even cut the tension. He was the first to break, as he had to abide by the law. He pulled into the drive thru and ordered his coffee and yours. He even paid.

Pedro wanted to play games too. He put your drink in the cup holder next to his. So if you wanted it, you had to get next to him. You roll your eyes and unbuckle your seatbelt as he hits a stop sign in an empty road.

You lean forward with your hand behind his head rest, grabbing your coffee and putting it in the cup holder next to you. Before Pedro could take his foot off the break, you lean forward with your right hand on his left cheek, kissing his cheek a few times.

"Thank you, Pedrito" you whisper and he smiles, turning his head to kiss you.

"I've been waiting for this" he hummed and you sat on the center console. "Now can you stop being a pain in the ass and sit next to me?! I need to put my hand on your leg and I can't concentrate without it!" He exclaimed and you laughed, climbing into the passenger's seat and reaching to grab your coffee.

Pedro took this as the perfect opportunity to slap your ass as hard as he could with his left. "Holy fu- Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker" Pedro couldn't stop laughing as you whined while sipping your coffee.

"Stop being so fucking stubborn and I won't do that" you put your coffee in the cup holder and turn your body towards the window. "Hey!" Pedro yelled and grabbed your knee, shaking it as he drove down the road. You laugh and slap his bicep as your plan to fake be mad at him was ruined.

"I will throw your coffee out the window!"

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #rpf #real person fiction

[inkskinned]

red used to get me scratchies and we'd sit in his truck quietly working quarters over papers. we aren't biological - my parents are friends with him; i spent enough summer weekends at their cottage on the beach that it feels like family anyhow. he and his wife come to all the family big events like it's no big deal.

i get nervous around people a lot. like i am am intruding, somehow, just by existing. red has the kind of personality that feels calming - like, it's okay, you're supposed to be here. i often will bolt through any explanation of my life or passions - blurting it out in a series of seconds, worried i'll be cut off or it won't be interesting to the other person, desperate to get a sentence finished.

sometimes i wanna be a good friend like painting the sky yellow just 'cause it's your favorite color. like made your favorite dessert. a week ago i caught my finger in a food processor making a three-layer chocolate mousse. called my brother from the kitchen floor, holding paper towel around the cut. surrounded by blood and crushed oreos. after this - i'm okay - i still finished making the dessert.

i used to think if i could study love - in books, in tv, in magazines - i could figure out how to get comfy with it. to trust it. other people kept telling me life is a tightrope love is a net! and i'd flinch. a net is, at the end of the day, to catch things. i can't explain why that's scary.

red says the truck only runs because he asks it nicely. it should have died 23 years back, if anybody is counting. it was quiet in their cabin. the quiet used to make me uneasy. i was waiting for something bad, certain it would happen eventually.

sometimes i think i have to make up for all the ways i'm a bad person and for all the ways that bad things have happened to me by being the nicest, kindest, most beautifully-charming person who will ever be. i think i have to make everyone laugh and clap and leave smiling. if i am very good, they will love me. i still think the love will wear off when they look away. that it comes temporary. so i have to keep it up. i have to keep up being perfect, always, and maybe one of them will keep me.

red once greeted me for the summer by waving me over to a small freezer in the garage. he was secretly stashing all the popsicles with our favorite flavor. truth be told, i think he probably showed my siblings, too - and all the adults definitely knew. but it felt good to pinky-promise that this was just-between-us-two.

i think maybe sometimes the way we learn how to love is just osmosis. like - i wasn't always raised right. i learned love is thin. that it flakes off easy, butterfly wing material. that you have to scrape by with what you get. that you have to earn it. that you have to be funny, cool, full of exciting interests.

if you're lucky, though. i think the quiet ways people can love us work just the same. the simple, gentle hush of a summer holiday. the way the hydrangeas got tall and bushy. what i'm saying is that... if i'm good - really good - if i believe in love, i mean.

i only believe in it because of the way those few kind people showed me. in all the rest of it. their gentle image - eventual reprieve.

#spilled ink #warm up #red is a real person and these are real memories #BUT #his name isn't red #although i associate him w/that color #that family is SUCH good people

[alotofpockets]

Amidst the chaos | Sylvie Brett

Pairing: Sylvie Brett x Reader

Summary: You're involved in a big accident on the highway. You aid a woman who is about to give birth with the help of your paramedic girlfriend on the phone.

Warnings: Car crashes, and delivering a baby. If there's inaccuracies in the actual child birth, I am sorry, like reader I don't actually know the steps.

Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1.3k

You were driving home from work, when a few cars ahead of you, you saw a truck reacting to the traffic around it and ending up crossed over the highway. You hit the brakes as fast as you could but before you knew it your car got hit in the back, which made you hit the car in front of you as well. It caused a chain reaction of car crashes around you but it took you a moment to process what had happened, but once you did you tried getting out of your car. 

Once you got out of your car you checked to see if you were hurt in any way that the adrenaline wasn’t letting you feel. When you couldn’t find anything you looked around and saw that a lot of cars had crashed along with yours. “Help!” You hear. “We need help!” The call snaps you out of your shock and you run to their aid, seeing as not many people have gotten out of their cars yet. You get to the man calling out and ask what’s wrong. “My wife, help my wife.” You move to the other side of their car and manage to open the door after a couple of tries. She’s breathing heavily, but you saw no major injuries. “What’s hurting you ask?” The wife just screams out in pain, so the husband answers for her. “We were on our way to the hospital, she’s in labor.” 

You look around but don’t see a way for you to get her around this chaos. “Okay, here’s what we are going to do okay. I need you to turn my way okay and then I’m going to check you out, okay?” The woman nods and you help turn her your way. You can already see the baby’s head, the baby wasn’t waiting. “Okay, keep breathing for me. What are your names?” The husband answers again, “I am Rick and my wife’s name is Brooke.” - “Okay Rick, Brooke, I am y/n. My partner is a paramedic, so I am going to call her and she’s going to walk us through this okay. Rick, do you think you can do the breathing exercises with Brooke?”

After taking a deep breath you press call. She’s currently on shift, so you were hoping that she would be able to pick up. Without her guidance you didn’t know what you were doing, you had no medical training whatsoever. In your head you were saying pick up, pick up, pick up until you heard the call connect and Sylvie was on the other side of the phone. “Hi baby, you’re on speaker, Vi is with me. I’m sorry, I’m on a call and I can't really talk right now. I’ll call you back when we’re back at 51 okay?” 

“Wait, Sylvie, I need your help. There was a big pile up on the highway, maybe thirty cars or so.” Before you can finish Sylvie interrupts you, “Baby, are you okay? The highway pile up is our call. We’re on our way.” You hadn’t realized that she would think that something was wrong with you so you quickly reassured her. “I’m okay, I’m not hurt. I do need your help though. I’m with a woman who is about to give birth here on the highway and help won’t come in time, I can already see the head. I’m going to need you to walk me through delivering this baby.” You place your phone on the dashboard once Sylvie and Violet told you to put it on speaker phone. “Okay Brooke, this is my partner Sylvie and her coworker Violet, they are going to talk us through this, are you ready?” Brooke nods and says, “Yes, I need this pain to be over.” She ends her sentence with another scream.

You help Brooke scoot to the edge of the seat and tell her where to place her feet. Next you take off your sweater to use it as a makeshift blanket like Sylvie told you. “Okay, Brooke, you’re doing great. The next time you feel a contraction coming you have to push.” It takes less than a minute for her next contraction to hit. “That’s it Brooke, push, push, push.” Your eyes are focussed on the baby's head. “Sylvie, the head is out, what now?” You had already reached up to support the baby’s head. “At the next contraction push again, the shoulders will be the hardest part Brooke, but after that it’s done. You’ve got this.” 

Sylvie and Violet arrive at the accident scene before the next contraction starts. They get out of the ambulance and grab their bags quickly and take a moment to look at the accident, looking for you. “Where are you?” Sylvie asks. “Like four cars away from the truck that is blocking the road.” You tell them just before Brooke’s next contraction. “This is it Brooke, push as hard as you can.” 

Violet grabs the gurney and tells Sylvie to get to you. “Gallo!” Violet calls over when she sees him getting out of Truck 18. “Help me get this gurney over to y/n.” Gallo rushes to her side, “Y/n’s in this?” They rush the gurney your way as she explains what was going on. 

Brooke was working hard on her latest contraction, with one last big push the shoulders are freed and the baby easily slides out the rest of the way. Sylvie runs up behind you just as the baby is born and you wrap the blanket around her. Just as Sylvie sits down by your side the baby starts crying. You sigh with relief, knowing that the baby is okay. “Congratulations on your beautiful baby girl.” You say with tears in your eyes. Sylvie cuts the umbilical cord and the baby’s parents watch their newborn with awe. 

You step aside to let Sylvie inspect Brooke. Violet and Gallo join you with the gurney. You stand to the side with the baby in your arms as Sylvie and Violet help Brooke onto the gurney. On the other side of the car, Gallo uses his halligan to open Rick’s door. You all get back to the ambulance together. You ride to the hospital with them for the young family to get checked out. They both thanked you for what you did and asked for your number to stay in contact. 

Sylvie and Violet take you to the firehouse in the ambulance since your car was totaled, but you were glad that your car got the worst of it and you were fine. You stayed at the firehouse until Sylvie’s shift was over, talking to everyone that would listen about your experience of delivering a baby. Sylvie was immensely proud of you, not only for delivering the baby, but also of the fact that your first instinct was to help people. 

Once Sylvie’s shift was over you decided today was worth celebrating with a dinner date. At dinner you got a text from an unknown number. You smile down at your phone when you realize that it’s Brooke. She sent you a picture of their little girl and the message read. Thank you for helping us bring this wonder into our lives. We would like you to officially meet Lucy y/n Smith. You tear up looking at the name they gave their little girl and show the message to Sylvie. She squeezes your hand, “You deserve it, you were incredible out there.” 

With a full heart you let Sylvie take you home where you spend the rest of the evening cuddling up to her on the couch as your adrenaline had finally simmered down and your exhaustion started to hit. Sylvie held you in her arms as she watched the movie playing on the TV.

#sylvie brett #sylvie brett x reader #chicago fire #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfic #one chicago

[kangmoon27]

Memory Lost || Jungkook FF oneshot

The rain is pouring so hard. It's raining cats and dogs while you're running alone on the dark alley, crying.

Grabbing half of the weight of your wedding gown as you continue running away. You fell on the ground after one of your heels broke, groaning in pain and started crying painfully.

You feel so down, you feel like you aren't alive anymore more like a lifeless person on someone's living body. The pain from falling didn't match with the pain you felt after your groom ran away from your wedding.

You aren't a runaway bride but it is your soon to be husband who runaway from you, he didn't even said a single word before leaving you alone in the aisle Infront of everyone.

You felt embarrassed cause you knew you can't control people's minds some will pity you while some will blame you for not being able to keep your man and even tho it's not your fault they will find false scenario to put the blame on you.

Hugging yourself while laying down in the middle of the road. You didn't knew where you are, you just keep on running as you also wanted to run away from the pain but it keeps on following you.

You continue hugging yourself like a ball on the empty road while crying painfully, the strong sound of the thunder made you scream. You're scared of thunder and right now all you have is yourself.

The rain and the thunder join forces and it's terrifying you since you're in the middle of the empty road alone, you decided to get up to run to the bus station waiting area but before you could even reach to the other side, a light suddenly appears Infront of you making you distracted and with a blink of an eye everything went blank.

"I remember getting married a-and some how I remember your face" you said while looking at the man Infront of you. You tried to remember everything but nothing seems to work, the doctor said it's the matter of time and all you have to do is to wait.

"Exactly, it is because I'm your husband, I'm Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook and you're Jeon Yn, we got married the night you got into a car accident, you tried saving a puppy but the truck was also on its way till it hits you." The guy said while caressing your head.

He peck your lips and hug you all tho you felt strange you just hugged him back and try to accept the faith that will come into your life.

He pulled away and smiled at you, you just smiled back and hope for your memories to come back cause right now being with him is making you uncomfortable, it's like you don't or you have never love this person, you feel like there's so attraction, care love, emotions that you felt towards him or it's just because of your memory lost?.

Did you also forgot how to love him or even feel anything for your so called husband?. You're helpless, you don't know what to do at the same time you don't know anyone around you except from him so all you have to do is to trust him for now

Living with him was fun, he's giving you everything, love, care, time, efforts within a few weeks you actually did fell in love with him again.

Right now you've confirmed that this person is your husband, all th feeling that fated away after your accident came back and you're so happy. You love him and you're sure of it.

While you're trying to look for a place to hide you suddenly found a room on the underground area of the house, with thinking twice you immediately run to the door thinking of hiding inside but because you cause even open the door someone from the back pulled you making you scream.

"Gotcha!! Come on come on kiss me now" Your laughed at your husband and started giving him peck all over his face making his smile, you giggles and pulled away from him.

"I love you Koo" you said, the man simple smiled at you and slowly grabbed you by you waist and caresses your cheek and connected your lips together, his tongue started fighting with your, your tongue fight dominance and that's when the kiss started getting hotter.

His tongue wins and he suck yours, you both pulled away and look at each other, both eyes are filled with admiration, affection, love, and addiction.

Pulling him closer and kissed him, within a sec he replied, you wrapped your legs around his torso, he picked you up before deciding to take you upstairs again leaving the underground but before he leaves he look at the door you wanted to enter earlier and left.

His b"ner is visible in your hand as some precum leaks out of his c*ck while you're palming him.

After taking few pump on his members, you slowly opened your mouth and let him entered his c*ck inside you making him moan louder.

You started popping your head in and out while playing with his balls with your hand. The man is already sweating so much. The pleasure is too much for him yet he didn't want you to stop.

Soon he c"m inside you and you swallow it all.

You both smiled at each other, he pick you up from the ground as both of you lay down on the bed while staying in each other embrace under the blanket.

It your wedding day and something suddenly happened while you're on your way to your wedding. The car that you're riding got hit by a race car and the two mans are arguing outside.

Opening the window and look outside you saw a man with full of tattoo and piercing while looking like a racer, and as expected he owns the car that got hit.

You get out of the car and went straight right at them, he stared at you and smirk making you feel uncomfortable but you still manage to speak.

"As you can see I'm almost late for my wedding so can we please talk some other time I'll give you my number so that we can fix everything but please I really need to go now." You beg the man while he was just staring at you with strange look.

"Fine but I want one night with you and I want it on your honeymoon with your soon to be husband" He said making you shocked.

You slap his on the face as his stare changes, you can see that he was pissed but he's such a pervert. "Fix this problem uncle I'll find other taxi"

You left after getting humiliated by someone. You glance at him while he did the same till you find taxi to ride.

Jungkook was drunk while driving on the way home, he couldn't accept the fact that a girl slap him and even declined to sleep with him but all in all he couldn't lie about getting attracted to the girl, she's beautiful and brave.

It was a bad luck that she's getting married or even married by now cause if not he would do anything to take her and keep her to himself but sadly she's married.

The man is so lost in her though when he suddenly hit something. He came out of his car and saw a girl laying on the ground, soon he realized that it was the girl from earlier.

After finding out that you've lost your memories Jungkook decided to pretend as your husband but after finding out that your memory lost is just temporary he started giving you medicine that can make your brain stop function making it hard for you to bring your memories back.

He's affair that you will leave him so he also started k'lling you relatives after finding out they're looking for you and he keeps their lifeless body on the room in his underground.

You walk down stairs after freshing up, you found your husband on the kitchen cooking while he's shirtless.

You came to hug him from the back making his startled but quickly return a bright smile, he will keep on lying till his last breath and you will be stuck with him as long as he's alive.

"I'll have a race later tonight do you wanna come?" He asked while turning his head on you.

"Of course I would, I'm your biggest supporter love!!" You said while h pulled you into a kiss.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookff

[jeonbunnie]

just finished crying my eyes out to love is gone & why do i lowkey want oc to have a major glow up, run into jungkook months later & him realizing he made the biggest mistake of his life like i want him to grovel so bad for her just so he feels a little bit of what she felt … omg 😭

I can totally see it 😌

He runs into you six months later, and the realization hits him like a truck. He fucked up.

You're out with your friends sitting at the bar, looking hot as fuck in tight little number he'd love to peel off you if your were still his. But you're not. And the only person he has to blame for that is him.

And maybe he's had a few drinks, but all he can think about is how pretty you look. Your skin is glowing, and your smile is brighter than he's ever seen, radiant like the sun. Suddenly, it hits him that this smile is not for him. That you'd smile might never be his again, and he's desperate.

He'd do anything to have that kind of sunshine in his life again.

“(Y/n)?”

It's not even a choice to call your name. It just happens. And yeah, maybe he's a little drunk, and if he were sober, he'd have the decency to leave you alone, but he just can't.

One minute, you're locking eyes; the next, he's chasing after you in the crowd, asking you to wait, to just hear me out.

You don't stop for even a second. It's not until you're out of the club and halfway down the street that Jeongguk even manages to catch your jacket and bring you to a pause.

“(Y/n), please. Just wait—"

"What? What do you want, Jeongguk? What could you possibly want with me now?"

Jeongguk wants so much he doesn't know where to start. He tried to apologize, to tell you it was a mistake. He was so, so stupid to think he could ever live without you.

It's been a couple of months since Jeongguk left your bed and walked out of your life. The moment he left your side, he regretted it. And with every step he took away from you, the feeling of dread only got stronger.

He tried to brush it off, tried to reason it out. Things were still fresh; of course, he'd still feel an emotional connection to you. It would pass. Right?

Except it didn't. That empty, hollow, missing feeling didn't go away.

Not when he moved out. Not when he got his own empty, lonely apartment. Not even when Jeongguk tried dating again. Because no one he dated could compare to you.

That ache for you stayed. Always.

He wanted to tell you all of this, but he can't tell by the look on your face that he only has a couple of minutes—hell—seconds before you turn around and leave him behind. This time for good.

So Jeon Jeongguk kneeled, his knees pressing into the hard concrete beneath him. It was gravelly, and he could feel wet spots sink into his jeans from when it rained outside earlier, but he couldn't find it in himself to care about the mess.

All he cared about was you.

Jeongguk begs. "Please. Please give me another chance."

"What? You broke up with me, remember?" You moved to pull away, but Jeongguk held your hand, anything to keep you near.

"It was a mistake. Ending us was a mistake."

"Jeongguk… you're drunk. You won't even mean this in the morning."

"I mean it! I mean it."

I regret it every day." Jeongguk leaned forward, nuzzling his cheek against your thighs. Maybe it's a little pathetic, but he can't help himself; he needs to be close to you in any way he can. "Can't we just start over?"

"Jeongguk…"

Jeongguk looked up at you then, his nose red and his lashes wet with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He means it; he really does. Jeongguks hasn't been more sorry about anything in his life.

"If you give me another chance, I won't ever let you go again. Say yes. Please?"

Please, please, please?

#this was supposed to be a paragraph lol #jungkook drabble #jeongguk drabble #boy is down BAD #fic: love is gone #obsessed with this ask the idea of its playing in my head rent free #but i like the thought of him begging too much 😂 #i mean? can u picture his sweet whiny voice? #SIGH🤧 #oh to have jjk beg for u like ahn sohee in seven …..😮‍💨 #mail.💌

[lolahasmoxie]

Cat Fishing - (E.M.)

I came here to write some absolute smut but got this in my head when my friends sent me this. Enjoy!

You were enjoying a lovely, quiet afternoon at home.

Eddie and Wayne had left before dawn to go fishing about two hours from your home. Wayne was looking forward to bringing home some fresh fish for dinner, and Eddie was looking forward to some quality time with his Uncle.

After you had sleepily walked the boys to their truck, you went back to sleep until a more respectable hour. Then, after breakfast, you did some tidying and laundry and ran a few errands.

It was early afternoon, and you were reading a book in the recliner while the TV played in the background. You only looked up from your book when you heard the rumble of Wayne's beloved pickup pull up your driveway.

You barely had the door open when Eddie barrelled through and kissed you like he hadn't seen you in years. His hands cupped your cheeks as you grasped his shoulders for balance.

"Holy shit, Eds, it's only been 10 hours!" you gasped as you caught your breath.

"What, I can't show my best girl that I've been thinking about her all day?" You pulled back, noticing that Eddie seemed jumpy. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"What did you do?" Eddie's Bambi eyes grew large, and it was then that you noticed the large lump in his jacket.

"I didn't do anything."

"Edward."

"Shit, the government name," he muttered, and you sighed as you stepped closer. You reached for the zipper of his jacket and slowly pulled down. You gasped when two furry heads popped out and began meowing.

"Some asshole must have left them out there. They were so desperate they jumped in the river and swam to us, babe."

"They're so tiny!" you whisper shout, taking the orange one into your arms while Eddie takes out the all-black one. Both kittens started purring at the attention, and Eddie couldn't help but grin when you looked back at him.

"We're keeping them, right?"

"I don't know, babe,"

"Oh no, don't you dare play dumb with me. Coming in here with your I don't know bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing."

Eddie has the decency to look guilty, but that panty-dropping smile you love reaches ear to ear now that he knows you're on board.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't say no, but Wayne had me second-guessing myself. Wanna know their names?"

"Of course, you already named them."

Eddie gives you a glare before reaching for the orange kitten.

"This little guy," he says, holding up the orange kitten, "is Cliff." You giggle when Cliff meows as if he's already accepted the moniker Eddie has bestowed him.

"I sense a theme here."

"Hush, woman. And this one is named Kirk." Kirk turns, and you gasp at his pale green eyes. He's fluffier than Cliff, and you can tell that lint brushes are about to be a part of your imminent future.

"Cliff and Kirk Munson. I like it. Did you and Wayne catch anything?"

"Yeah, we cleaned and gutted them before heading back. Why don't you take these two, and I'll help the old man."

"Wait, we don't have anything for these guys."

"No worries, we stopped at the pet store on the way home. We have everything our two babies will need." There's a kiss on your cheek, and then he's out the door, your mind trying to wrap around Eddie using the phrase "our babies" that has your hormones feeling a new kind of way. You're brought out of your thoughts when your boys begin meowing for attention.

"Come on, boys," you coo gently. "Let's go wait for Daddy to come back."

LATER THAT NIGHT.

"Eddie, close the door."

"And lock our precious children out?"

"When they run over us at 3:17am, YES."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Four

Persimmon

Chapter Summary: Things haven't been the same since the fight in Rhett's truck. The pressure is getting to you, and the feelings of self-doubt are not eased as others around you do not reveal their secrets.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, Protected PinV sex, Choking (light), Cheating, Fighting (not physical, just some strong words), Risky sex (idk if it deserves a warning but it made me scared writing it lol)

Word Count: 5,000ish

A/N: As always, I love you all <3 I am really hoping to get another chapter out before the new year, as I am on break from uni!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

“Whatcha workin’ on there?”

Royal’s voice made you jump. You had heard him come in, his big boots creaking on the floors. But you did not expect him to start chatting you up when he was supposed to be working outside with Rhett.  

“Hmm? Oh, just replying back to some internship opportunities I got. Nothing too interesting.” You chuckle as you get back to typing on your laptop. You were perched on a loveseat in the living room, soaking in the silence. Perry had gone to work a couple of hours ago, promising to bring you a donut if the little pastry place by the hardware store hadn’t run out by the time he got off work. 

It wasn't like he gave you much else to do than just wait for him, the roads were terrible and both of your parents were at work. 

“I’m actually a TA for an undergraduate class, too. Before I left Laramie I had to do a ton of grading so honestly I am just thankful I get to do stuff on my computer that is not looking at papers on Cultural Competence.” You joked, looking at the older man above your screen. 

Royal sat down in the armchair across from you, the old furniture creaking under his weight. 

“Your parents must be awfully proud of you. Bein’ some busy college girl who gets good grades.” Royal remarked, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.  

“They are, and I am very thankful for it.” You confirm, nodding and smiling at him. This was kind of awkward. He sighed, the long breath coming from his nose as he stayed put.

Okay, this was really awkward.

The silence dragged on while you typed, glancing up at Royal a few times to see that he was just looking at his hands, picking at a scab on his wrist. Where was Cecilia? Surely she would be emerging from wherever she was hiding to break this uncomfortable tension between the two of you. 

“You know, uhm,” He cleared his throat, “Perry is a good boy and loves you to bits, right?” Royal says suddenly and your fingers still on the keyboard. Your palms were sweating now, heartbeat quickening. 

Did he know about you and Rhett? Did he see you two in the kitchen and Rhett didn't notice? Did Rhett tell him? 

“Of course I know that!” You smile and say lightheartedly, removing your laptop from your knees and placing it on the couch next to you, “Perry is a great man.” You add with forced enthusiasm. 

“Yes he is. He’s a lot like Cecilia, leads with his heart but not always with his brain sometimes. Just wants people to be happy, ya know?” 

“What are you tryin’ to say here, Royal?” You ask, smile faltering at his words. 

“Nothin’ sweetheart. Just… I want you to choose the life that makes you happy. I know you love my son, but remember that.” He concludes and gets up, groaning with the effort, “Rhett’s been waiting for me outside, I better get back to him.” 

Then he was gone. 

He knows. He has to know. There is no way in hell he doesn't know. God, you are so fucking screwed. 

Your stomach churns and you feel completely sick. Absolutely dirty and disgusted with yourself. This can't be happening. But you thought Royal would be furious if he found out. Not calm while telling you. You stand and rush over to the kitchen window and spot Rhett and Royal, just fixing the fence as usual. Not a fight or arguing. 

That might be good. Because if you didn't get chewed out, Rhett would absolutely be getting the worst of it. But instead, nothing. Maybe, Royal saw how unhappy you were since arriving here. He also was not a stranger to his older son’s bad mood and cruel tendencies. 

Did he want you to break up with his son? Was he warning you of something that you know nothing about yet? Why is Royal so vague and fucking confusing? 

A vibration in your pocket distracted you, pulling out your phone to see your mom was calling, but from her work phone. 

“Momma?” You hold the phone to your ear and sit down at the dining table. 

“Oh good! I am so glad you picked up. I completely forgot that your brother gets out early today, but I can’t leave work to pick him up. Can you please go to the house and wait there till I get home? I just don't trust him to be there by himself.” She explains, her words rushing out as static surrounded them. 

“Of course, I wasn't doing anything anyways.” You breathe a sigh of relief, “Let me put my things away and I’ll head over as soon as I can.” You are already up and in the living room, closing the laptop and zipping it away in the case. 

“You're an angel! If you are leaving now you’ll beat him by an hour or two, so you'll be home alone. Anyways, see you there!” She says and you can hear the smile in her voice before she hangs up. 

This is perfect. A perfect excuse to get out and stay somewhere Rhett and his dad are not. Quickly, you get up to Perry’s room and put your computer away and change into decent clothes to see your family. But as soon as you made your way to the front door, so far in fact that your hand was on the door handle, you remembered. 

Your fucking truck wouldn’t drive. Probably wouldn't even budge because of how long it had been sitting. Every time you went out you used Perry or Rhett’s truck, and you hadn't even looked at what was wrong with yours. 

Great. 

What do you do? Tell your mom you can't go? 

So you stare at your phone for a bit. Just looking at the crack in the screen protector from a long time ago. Maybe if you stare at it long enough it will come up with a solution for you? Probably not, unfortunately. 

So your fingers type and go to the first person you can think of. 

Me: Can I ask you a huge favor?

You wait so long for him to reply back you decide to sit on the bottom step of the stairs.

Rhett Abbott: What

Me: I need to go make sure my younger brother is okay but my truck won’t start. Please can I borrow yours?

You wait even longer for this message.

Rhett Abbott: Sure

Me: Thank you

When you go outside, you are confused by the sight. 

“My dad doesn't want you to go alone. Says the roads are too icy.” Rhett calls as he walks up the path to you, holding his keys in his gloved hand. His lips are pale and his nose is reddened, a sharp contrast to his light skin. Royal is still over working on the fence, down on his knees and fixing something in the frozen dirt. 

“I can drive myself.” You snapped, crossing your arms defensively. Your puffer jacket made a crinkly noise as you did so. 

“I’m not letting you drive my truck.” Rhett deadpanned, turning around before you could even protest and walking to his truck. Not even entertaining the thought of you driving. 

You all but stomped after him, upset at the change of events. 

But Royal wasn't kidding, the roads were very icy. Not enough to cause the truck to skid, but enough to make the tires spin for a few seconds when you took off. After a particularly concerning brake at a stop sign close to town, you were thankful you were not in charge of potentially crashing Rhett’s beloved truck. 

But you weren't going to admit that. 

“You really could have gone back to work and let me drive.” You huff, not bothering to look at him. 

“I don’t think you’re a very good driver.” Rhett retorted, slowing down to go over a speed bump as you got closer to the center of town.

“Not- oh my god! Not a good driver? Did Perry tell you that?” You scoff loudly, the familiar turns to your house making you sway, “I bet he did. Listen, the last time he ever let me drive was in eleventh grade and I had barely gotten my license!” Your face was hot with anger, the absolute audacity stunning you. 

“I was in the car with you guys! I was sittin’ in the back seat while you almost drove us right into the fuckin’ ditch.” He said, his normal gravely voice going up an octave as you fought, side-eyeing you the whole time. You seethed in your seat until he parked in the driveway, trying to come up with something to say.

“I was not about to run over some poor ground squirrel, that is just cruel!” You retorted, already opening the truck door.   

Slamming the door, you got out and marched to the house, cold hands fumbling with the keys on your lanyard. You were muttering curse words when you felt Rhett come up behind you, waiting for you to open the front door. 

When you finally found the right key you jammed it into the lock, jiggling until it gave way. The house was completely silent despite the constant string of curses coming out of your mouth. Rhett followed you in, which only made you angrier. You kicked your shoes off in frustration, ready to pull your hair out when Rhett did the same.  

“Why the fuck are you still here? I want to wait here by myself, not with you.” You snapped loudly, turning around when you heard the door shut and Rhett was still inside and not outside where he belonged. It was upsetting you more and more that he couldn't obey a single wish of yours. First the truck, now not leaving your own house. 

Jesus, you forgot he knew how to play the insufferable younger brother part perfectly. 

Opening your mouth to argue with him some more, you were silenced by Rhett slamming you back first into the nearest wall, getting the wind knocked out of your lungs. The family photos hanging above your head shifted with the sudden smack, their frames off-center now. 

While you were still dazed, you didn't notice that Rhett had his lips attached to your jaw, biting at the cold skin there. His hips were pressed to you and you could feel his hot erection through his jeans. 

“You're so annoying, you know that?” He muttered into your skin, and you couldn't help but knock his hat off to tangle your fingers into his hair, sharply tugging at the soft locks. 

“You don't seem to mind it though, do you?” You ask, already knowing the answer as you reach one hand down to palm roughly at his hard cock. Rhett hissed in response, the sound sharp through his teeth. The reaction made you smirk as you pushed him off of you. You fisted the opening of his jacket, unceremoniously shoving the tough fabric from his broad shoulders. 

Before he could protest, you were already walking swiftly to the living room, pulling off your jacket and sweater in quick succession. 

Rhett followed once he got the idea, stripping off the jacket that was already hanging from his elbows. You leaned on the taupe couch, fingers digging into the armrest while you still fumed with annoyance. 

Watching Rhett throw that damn jacket to the ground and stalk towards you with so much exasperation and purpose made your thighs clench together. Your cold exterior was slipping by the second. 

“Get on your knees.” Rhett commands when he gets closer to you, taking a few steps forward as he starts to undo his belt buckle. The forcefulness of his tone sends a zing straight to your pussy, the adrenaline practically making you vibrate in excitement. 

“Fuck you.” You spit before dropping to your knees before him, swatting his hands away to finish pulling out his dick yourself. He’s hard and throbbing, the tip flushed almost a purpley color. It makes your mouth water. But before you can admire him more, you feel a heavy hand on the back of your head, commanding you to suck his dick.

Fitting him in your mouth was no easy task, taking too much at once and making yourself gag on his cock. The lewd noise made him buck his hips, that firm hand pressing into the back of your skull. It was easier to draw back and fit your hand around what you couldn't comfortably fit, starting a rhythm of bobbing your head aided by Rhett’s hand. Drool gathered down your chin, his dick stretching your lips thin while you worked.

Arousal gathered in your panties, aided by the groans and gasps of the cowboy above you. Words of praise left his lips, too broken to really tell what they were. You reached up and cupped his balls, loving how he hissed as you massaged them firmly, reminding him that you were still mad. He reminded you of his own anger by giving a firm buck of his hips, leaving you sputtering and choking on his length. But you recovered quickly and with more vengeance, doubling your efforts to make him cum. 

“Fuck- stop, stop it now.” Rhett gasped before ripping your mouth off him, your nails gripping the jeans still at his thighs so he didn't back away. 

“Get down here and fuck me.” You demanded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on your haunches. Lust bubbling under your skin as he did as he was told, dropping to his knees like an obedient dog. You felt lightheaded, almost stunned by how much it turned you on that he was doing whatever you said. 

As Rhett knelt down in front of you, he used one hand to push your shoulder. Taking the hint you laid back on the carpet. He immediately crowded over you, one hand roughly shoving under your sports bra to massage your breast and tweak your hard nipple. With a whine you arched up into him, hands flying to his shoulders. You claw at him, hopefully leaving raw scratches through his shirt to remind him of you. At that movement he pushes your shirt and bra up to rest above your breasts. 

A hand suddenly closes around your throat, actually gripping you this time and not at all like the last. His mouth closes around your other nipple, sucking and flicking it with his devilish tongue. All you could do was struggle against his grasp, pathetic noises tearing from your throat. If you could speak you would beg for some friction between your thighs, lifting them up in search for some relief. 

He was being mean now, purposely holding you down and ignoring your seeking hips. You pushed on his shoulders to get his attention and he let up enough for you to surge up and kiss him ferociously, clicking your teeth together mercilessly. 

“Rhett, I swear to god if you don’t fuck me I’ll make you leave.” You warn between messy kisses, feeling him hook a few fingers into your jeans before pulling them down in one fluid movement barely past the swell of your ass.

“Hands and knees.” He instructed and you did so, kissing him one last time before rolling over onto your tummy then pushing up on your forearms and knees. You spread your legs as wide as you can, baring your naked pussy for him. A finger swiped through your folds without warning, making you jump. It gently ghosted over your clit before it pulled away, the sounds of Rhett’s jeans being pushed down behind you followed by the foil of a condom being torn. 

Bracing yourself, sucking in a loud breath before gripping the carpet. His plush cock head smeared through your folds before entering in one sharp thrust, one you were expecting but one that was so unexpected. You shut your eyes at the sting, a whimper punched out of your lungs.

His cock was hot and heavy as it sat in you, a stuttering breath leaving your lungs in a pained whine. The carpet bit into your knees, embedding their fibers into your jeans. The feeling was no longer a foreign sensation, your body now familiar with the intrusion. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, taking my cock like you are made for it.” Rhett groans behind you, a hand slapping your ass, his palm connecting roughly with it. All you could do was sob, the noise coming from deep within you and rattling your chest.

You were thinking about getting violent as Rhett was paused, groping you with no shame. But as he moved you met him on every thrust, the sharp sounds of you two connecting filled the living room. Loud, embarrassing wails left your mouth as you demanded him to be deeper, rougher. 

Rhett was fucking straight through you, the head of his cock bruising your poor cervix. It felt incredibly animalistic, even the noises coming from the man behind you was akin to some feral beast on the mountains surrounding the sleepy town. 

A faint buzzing drew you out of the lustful haze you were lost in, the noise coming from the pocket of your jacket next to you. When you lifted your head from where it was hanging from between your shoulders, your stomach dropped out of you and straight to the floor. 

“S-stop, Rhett stop it.” You said with a shaky voice, the previous fire gone from your vocal cords. You lifted your foot up and smacked him in the thigh, the physical statement making him pause. But not only before he buried himself so deep that you couldn’t breathe, you swore you could feel his dick in your lungs. 

Pushing down the lump in your throat, hands shaking, you pulled the phone from the pocket, praying that it was a spam call from somewhere very far away. 

“It’s Perry.” You murmured in a small voice, the phone feeling clunky and huge in your hand as it continued to vibrate. A picture of him smiling was shining on the screen, the ‘slide to answer’ button glaring at you to use it. Your mouth felt dry and sticky, prompting you to open your mouth slightly and breathe out of it. 

It felt like you were being suffocated. 

After a long pause you attempted to slip it back into the pile of clothes on the floor, watching to forget about your boyfriend and just focus on the task at hand. But sharp fingers dug into your side, making you wince and pause.

“Answer it.” 

“What?” You asked dumbly, turning your head over your shoulder in an attempt to see him. Completely taken aback at his statement.

“You heard me. Answer it.” Rhett repeated, his voice dark. It made you gulp, fear twirling in your stomach as you looked back at the phone still buzzing loudly on the carpet. How long would it vibrate for? It felt like it had been going on for hours at this point, just staring at your vulnerable form this entire time. 

The dig of his fingers reminded you of his presence and you nodded, licking your lips in an attempt to unstick them. You felt like you were being possessed, grabbing the phone as you lowered to your elbows, sliding the button to answer the call and placing it firmly to your ear.

“Hey Per!” 

You answered as normally as you could, Rhett breathing heavily behind you. A calloused hand traveled up your spine softly, making you get goosebumps and shiver.

“Hey darlin’. Where are ya right now?” 

His voice cracked through the phone.

“Oh! Uhm… just at my mom’s house. She needed me to hang out here until she got home.” 

Your fingers dug into the carpet as Rhett began to move again, newfound heat licking at your belly. It was dizzying, trying to keep up with the conversation in your ear while also trying to listen to the cowboy behind you making the softest noises of pleasure. 

“Great then! I get off work in a bit, I’ll come over after I’m done. It’s closer than…” 

He started, but you stopped listening. Blood rushed through your ears, making it hard to hear anything due to your impending orgasm. Rhett’s fingers found your clit, dragging some of the creamy wetness from where you two are conjoined to ease the circles. 

“Y-yeah that sounds great!” 

You quickly responded, the hand that was clenching the carpet now coming up to smack around your mouth, noises threatening to slip. 

“What? Are you doin’ okay sweetheart?” 

Perry asked at your sudden response. You prayed he couldn’t hear the sticky wet smack of Rhett’s balls on your pussy, the sound becoming louder as your orgasm drew closer. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah-“ You rapidly blinked your eyelids, trying to regain focus. “Just fine! Sorry, I’m uh… I’m trying to get something heavy out of the closet. Could you- ah! Could you r-repeat what you said e-earlier?” 

Rhett’s hands on your hips moved you forcefully back and forth on his cock, spearing you like you were a piece of meat. He was letting little pants escape through his nose, and you were sure he was red faced and trying to pull it together. 

Perry laughed on the line, it sounded almost condescending. 

“I was saying- I’ll come over after work to join you. I need to talk to your dad anyway about some stuff.” 

He explained, still with that condescending tone, like you were incompetent. What did he have to say to your dad? What was so important it could not wait til like, Christmas dinner or something? 

His words made you seethe, well they would have if you didn’t have someone fucking you into oblivion. 

“Yeah, no- definitely when you’re done. Be safe driving here, the roads are slick.”

 You were out of breath, forehead completely smashed into the carpet and whole body rigid as you awaited the end of the phone call. 

“Alright, see ya later sweetheart.” 

Perry concluded, sounding distant as you writhed against the ground. 

“Yep!” It came out as a squeak, Rhett giving you a sharp thrust, “See you soon!” 

The dial tone was the sweetest sound you had ever heard and probably will hear after that. Immediately you dropped the phone and let out a loud sob, toes curling. 

“Fu- like that, Jesus Christ don’t you dare fucking stop, R-Rhett.” You growled, shoving your phone far away from your face, watching it slide under the couch. Your whole body was on fire and you felt close to hyperventilating.

 It was humiliating how he had you flattened to the ground besides your ass being in the air, a crick forming in your back. 

Rhett just grunted behind you, smoothing a hand down your inevitably sweaty lower back. Soon, the pace he set was jostling his other hand, the one so deliciously circling your clit. It was messy and not always hitting the right spots, so you decided to hit him away, replacing his hand with yours. 

You would have thought he would have protested like he did at church, but he happily took his hand back, using it to pull you harder against him on your hip. 

“Takin’ it so good- shit.” Rhett rumbled behind you between guttural noises, the sounds low in his throat. Praise always weakens you, fire crackling all the way through your body. It started at your core, zips of lightning coursing through your veins and to your fingertips. Quickly, your hindbrain took over and was controlling you out of instinct. 

“Yeah- all for you. Take it- all for you.” You barely managed to cry out before resorting to tiny ah ah ah ahs with your face pressed against the side of your bicep. There was a semi-familiar build up happening in the base of your pelvis, one that really only happens when you have your bullet vibrator pressed tight against your clit. 

As your breaths became more ragged, you felt lightheaded before you came. Eyes fluttering closed, it felt like you were soaring. Even your stomach dropped like when you ride roller coasters. 

A long, drawn-out moan left your lips and rattled your chest as you came. The feeling was unbelievable, like you were soaring high above all else. Rhett followed soon after, pulling you close while he emptied himself into the condom. His thick thighs pressed hard to your ass. A hand rubbed up and down the lower part of your spine, the gentle movement of it caused crackles of electricity to emerge in your chest.

To your dismay, Rhett pulled out. His hand that was resting on your back came down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeak. 

“Jesus fuck- didnt think you liked my dick that much.” Rhett remarked sarcastically, out of breath as he tried to regain his composure. You sat up and turned to sit on your butt, trying to gracefully pull up your panties in a haze, your shirt and bra still sitting high up to your neck. 

“Don’t you have a condom you need to take off?” You muttered, annoyance settled back into you as you rolled your eyes and looked up.

He was staring at you, hands twitching in his lap. You blinked back, exhaling softly as your eyes locked. The sarcasm in his words didn't translate to his face, instead watching you with reverence. Even though your hair was a mess and you were sure there was drool and carpet imprints on your cheek. 

Your attention was brought back to his fidgety hands, watching as his fingers flitted together. There was a large cut on his right, the gash trailing from mid palm through the juncture between his thumb and pointer, ending just barely past that. It was scabbed over but the skin around it was still red and angry. 

Frowning, you subtly gestured to the lesion, “You should be more careful. When did you get that?” You asked softly. 

The moment was over as Rhett narrowed his eyes and swatted your arm with irritation before getting up to dispose of the condom. 

Quickly, you adjusted your clothing so it was like nothing ever happened, only the hot flush on your cheeks told anything. 

Fuck. 

The crackles in your chest turned to pangs of hurt as you watched Rhett leave to the bathroom. All this time you concluded the soreness in your heart to be feelings of guilt and self-hatred for cheating on Perry. 

Were you just actually fucking stupid? Of course you would be catching feelings. No one in the history of… well, ever would not fall in love- no, not love. Whatever this is, whatever you are doing with him can’t be love. 

You wouldn't allow it. 

It was useless to argue with yourself like this. Every waking moment was spent trying not to think about Rhett. When you saw his boots by the door it would send you into a spiral at seven o'clock in the morning when all you wanted to do was piss. When you scrolled through social media you searched up his name to look at the account he posts on once in a blue moon that you do not follow and just stare at his photos. The one time you had sex with Perry on this trip you forced your eyes shut-

You physically shake your head to rid yourself of that thought, warding it off like a bad omen. You were in denial, and you knew it. Feeling more lost now than ever before in your life. The thoughts made your lip quiver, and a headache formed around your skull like a tight rubber band. Quickly, you pressed your fingertips into your temples, trying to calm yourself as you looked down into your lap.

Socked feet stopped right in front of you, eyes trailing up his long legs and strong body to get to his face. Rhett had his hand extended towards you, calluses illuminated by the Christmas tree lights. After a moment's pause you accepted it and allowed yourself to be pulled up by him, amazed at how effortless Rhett made it seem.

Rhett did not let go of your hand when you stood at your full height. It was warm and solid, tough skin but holding your hand with all the delicateness in the world. His thumb swiped slowly across your knuckles, making you hyper aware of the chapped skin there. 

Quietly, you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your hand away from his. 

Finally alone in the small room, you fixed your appearance, soaking your hands in freezing water to press to your flushed cheeks. Groaning to yourself, you quickly finished up in the bathroom, not wanting to leave Rhett down there for too long by himself. 

Back in the living room, you found Rhett sitting on the couch with your phone in his lap. Watching you settle yourself on the furthest end away from him, Rhett passes over your phone, “Figured you didn't want to go digging around for your phone after you tossed it.” he remarked, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back so he could put on his baseball cap. 

Looking over his shoulder, you saw he picked up your jackets and hung them in the foyer as well. When you looked back at him he was staring at you intently, his pretty blue eyes studying your movements carefully. 

“Thank you for picking up the jackets, and my phone.” You added gently as you turned your phone over in your hands nervously. Rhett simply nodded and went back to picking at his hands in his lap. 

After a moment of silence Rhett scratched the stubble on his jaw, the noise making you look over at him. You watched him get up with a grunt, hands coming down to adjust his jeans. 

“I better go back. Completely forgot about the work at home.” He explained, and you nodded. Rhett chewed his bottom lip, looking at you with what you could only assume was expectancy. Did he want you to say something? 

“Uhmm… I guess I’ll walk you out?” 

It was Rhett’s turn to nod, turning away from you and heading to the door. You followed him, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans as you watched him shrug his coat on and slip on his boots. Avoiding the small puddles of melted snow on the tile floor you opted to stand on the rug near the door to not get your socks soaked. 

Crossing your arms defensively, Rhett stood toe to toe with you, reaching up to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. The touch softened you, dropping your arms to your sides almost instantly as you leaned into his palm, now resting gently on your cheek. 

Rhett leaned closer and captured your lips in a kiss. You could feel him smile the smallest bit as you kissed him back, igniting butterflies in your stomach. Pulling back, his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone.

“You should text me more.” Rhett stated, pecking you once again before opening the door and leaving.

Catch me on AO3 under Creatchie8 too! Happy Holidays!

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #lewis pullman #lewis pullman characters #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman edit #outer range fic #outer range imagine #outer range fanfiction

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 39: "Bigger Than The Whole Sky"

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. And I've got a lot to pine about, I've got a lot to live without, I'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been, what should've been you..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"Bucky!" Sam bellows down the hall, running as fast as he can down the hall. He skids around the corner of the hospital corridor, desperate for any update on you.

He halts the second he sees Bucky.

Sam's blood immediately runs cold. He isn't quite sure what it is about the scene that does it, but he assumes the worst. It hits him like a truck. The familiar ache of dread. The silence right before the storm breaks over the horizon, before it consumes every ounce of sunshine in its path, before it consumes him. 

No words appear before him in the aftermath. There's nothing to say. Nothing to do. 

He watches from all the way down the hall. The nurse bows her head at Bucky, murmuring something that Sam can't quite make out from his distance. He can't bring himself to take another step forward. 

It's over. 

And he's not ready for that. He's not ready to turn to the last page. He knows what awaits them there. He's certain Bucky will understand and agree. They're not ready for a story that doesn't have you in it. 

He'll stand in the hallway forever if it means that it's not over. He'll stay here forever if it means he doesn't have to say goodbye. 

Bucky hangs his head, holding it in his hands. It's as close to the fetal position as a grown man in a hospital waiting room can get. Sam is positive that he's never seen Bucky doubled over like he's going to be sick. 

The worst hangs over his head. This is it. The worst. There would never be another goodbye as hard as this one. 

His lips refuse to form the words. Goodbye. It was so simple. A fleeting word with an everlasting impact. Goodbye. It tastes bitter in his mouth. It poisons all his thoughts. His mouth falls open. All that can be heard is a breath that sounds as hollow as Sam feels. Goodbye. 

How do you say goodbye to something, to someone, that was bigger than the whole sky? How do you say goodbye to someone that would forever reside in your heart?

He can't help it. He can't bring himself to have hope.

After the events of tonight, with the memory of finding you lying in a pool of your own blood fresh in his mind, hope is sparse. Hope was left in the pool of blood he found you in. Hope was left in the tears, the ragged sobs Karli shed for you. Hope, was something he simply didn't have in this moment. 

He can't bring himself to say words he doesn't believe. 

His leadened feet start leading him to the where Bucky remains hunched over, hugging himself like his arms are the only thing holding him together.

Sam's body tenses itself on instinct, bracing himself for the most painful loss he'll ever face. 

A few feet away from Bucky, Sam's hoarse voice weakly calls out, "Bucky?"

"Sam..." Bucky's head snaps up, immediately sitting up straight. He immediately sighs in relief, "Thank God, you're here."

"Is she-"

Bucky's frantic voice steamrolls over Sam's dreaded question, "They won't tell me anything, Sam. I've asked everybody in this entire fucking building and no one will tell me anything. I've yelled, begged, pleaded, threatened, and nothing. I almost put a fucking hole in the wall. I tried lying and telling them - you know, it doesn't matter what I said, they just keep tellin' me immediate family only."

"Okay. Okay," The knot in Sam's throat loosens ever so slightly. He places his hand on Bucky's shoulder, mostly to keep Bucky from angrily bounding out of his seat. "We'll figure it out."

"That's her doctor, right there," Bucky points out the doctor he watched dart in and out of the hospital waiting room all night.  

"Excuse me," Sam frantically calls after the doctor.

The doctor stops in his tracks, sighing something under his break. He turns around with an expression that borders on irritation. Sam can only imagine the amount of times Bucky demanded an update. The doctor tucks his clipboard against his chest. He turns on his heels, and Sam's not sure what it is, but the doctor's expression morphs from irritation to almost apologetic at the sight of the distress on Sam's face, "As I've told your friend, sir, I can only disclose information to immediately family."

"Me," Sam insists. "I'm her immediate family, she's my sister... And I'm also her legal guardian."

The doctor quirks an eyebrow at Sam, "She's in her late twenties."

Sam frowns, crossing his arms over his chest expectantly, "Are you going to tell me how she is or not?"

The doctor's eyes flicker between Sam and Bucky for a moment. He sighs in concession, "The last update I received was about an hour ago, it was touch and go. She lost an extraordinary amount of blood. To be quite frank, I'm shocked she held on as long as she did. Take solace in the fact that your sister is a fighter."

Sam nods, the frown melting off his face back to a concerned, pained expression, "Thank you."

"As soon as I know anything, I'll come find you," the doctor assures before scurrying away. 

Sam trails back to the seat beside Bucky. He slumps down beside Bucky, knowing there was nothing to do but wait.

And wait.

And wait. 

And wait. 

"I didn't think I'd be here again," Sam confesses after a long while. 

They're not sure how much time has passed in silence, all they know is that hope is getting harder to hold onto with the clocking ticking over their heads. Every doctor that passes them is another that reminds them of the doctors working to save your life. They wait with bated breath for anyone to tell them anything. 

"Neither did I."

"She didn't want this life." Sam isn't even sure why he's telling Bucky this. He doesn't know what point he's trying to make. He just knows that right now, there was an immense weight on him that he couldn't carry alone. "Everyone knew it. I knew it. Steve knew it. Tony knew it. Nick Fury knew it. We all knew it. And not one of us ever put a stop to it. And now, now, she just - she doesn't know a life without the next fight around the corner."

"If anyone's been there for her, it's you. Every step of the way. Good, bad, and ugly."

"I was- " Sam's breath wavers, just barely noticeable to even Bucky's super soldier hearing, "I was so concerned with fixing everything, fixing her, that I didn't even stop to ask if she was okay."

Bucky remains silent, pensively staring at his clenched hands. 

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sam urges.

"I don't want to say the wrong thing," Bucky softly mutters. 

"I don't think there's a right or wrong thing to say."

"I feel like a dick," Bucky exhales.

Sam chortles at the brashness of Bucky's words. It was, without a doubt, the wrong thing to say, but there was something oddly comforting about it anyway. "That's definitely not the right thing to say."

"Told you." Bucky allows a beat of silence. He's not sure Sam knows all the ways he screwed up. He's not sure he wants Sam to know how he'd broken your heart. "I just - I keep fucking up, Sam. I messed up. A lot."

"I know," Sam agrees. It surprises Bucky that Sam knows how badly he messed up. There's a part of him that still wonders if Sam really knows everything or if you left out some of Bucky's worst transgressions. He can't imagine that Sam wouldn't have at least tried to kick his ass if he knew about the things he said to you after Tony's funeral. "And I won’t lie, a part of me wants to kick your ass for leaving her like that… But an even bigger part knows it was the right thing. For both of you."

"Both of us?" Bucky questions, finally picking his gaze up off the floor.

"If you hadn’t noticed, she needed to figure out some things for herself. You both did. I know life doesn't give us a lot of guarantees, but you two-"

"Gentleman," a new, different doctor approaches, cutting off Sam. "I was your friend's surgeon tonight."

Sam and Bucky immediately jump to their feet, waiting for their next cue. Would they finally breath that long awaited sigh of relief? Would they dissipate into a puddle of tears like a crumpled up piece of paper? Sam urges with desperation thick in his voice, "And?" 

"And she made it through surgery," the surgeon replies. "It was touch and go for a while. To be quite frank, there were times where we thought we lost her. She lost a tremendous amount of blood tonight. There were extensive internal injuries, but by some stroke of luck, the knife narrowly missed anything that could've done much more permanent damage."

"Can you please just skip to the part where you tell us if she's okay?" Bucky asks through gritted teeth.

The surgeon withers slightly underneath Bucky's intense glare, he nods, "She's in recovery right now. She suffered quite substantial injuries of all different kinds. Frankly, most people wouldn't have made it onto an ambulance. In any other case, I would be very weary about making any promises or guarantees for recovery, but if I were a gambling man, I'd bet on your friend."

Hope swells in Sam's chest for the first time in a very long time. He breathes a sigh of relief, raising his hands on the top of his head as he takes a long, deep breath, "So she's okay?"

"She's very lucky," the surgeon repeats. "Once she's out of recovery, we'll move her to the ICU. You can see her then."

"Thank you."

The doctor takes one singular step before stopping. He softly exhales, and turns around to face Sam and Bucky once more, "And gentlemen? A word of advice?" Sam nods, remaining silent to allow the doctor to continue. "Whatever your friend was doing tonight-"

"I told you, it was a mugging," Bucky interrupts.

The doctor nods, not believing a word of the Bucky's off the cuff cover story. It wasn't a very good cover up, even Bucky could admit that, but his concern upon arrival wasn't creating an elaborate story. No, he'd been far too rattled for that. His one and only concern was you.

"There is no scientific reason that your friend should've survived," the surgeon matter of factly states. "Whatever your friend was doing, it will get her killed. Not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but one day. Luck only lasts so long."

A heaviness tugs at Sam's heart as any trace of a smile melts off of his face as the doctor's words sink down to the very pit of Sam's stomach. He nods once more, "Thank you, Doctor."

While they wait, all Bucky and Sam can do is think about what the doctor said. They hated how right the doctor was. They hated how you were never given a choice.

Most of all, they hate the idea that one day you may not get up.

One day, you may not be so lucky.

One day, there would be a goodbye, one final goodbye, a real one. A goodbye that couldn't be taken back.

They weren't ready for that. They wouldn't ever be ready for that.

Sam can't stop thinking about what the doctor said. Not even for one second to rejoice in the fact that you survived. Yes, you survived tonight, but how long before your luck ran out? How long before your own humanity caught up with you? 

You defied all scientific reason. There was no explanation. No rhyme. No reason. Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, two of the greatest scientists to have walked the Earth, found nothing to explain the phenomena of you. There was no reason. Did a bird flap its wings over in Asia? Did some force will you into existence? There was no answer. 

There were others, in the place from before, there were others that didn't survive. You were the lone survivor and no one could figure out how or why. There was no logical reason behind the way you always got back up. Every time, without fail. There was no reason that you lasted as long as you had. The way you got up after every fight, every battle, every loss, defied all expectation, defied everything known and then some. 

But more than any of that, you were a person.

And there would be no other you. That much was clear - both to Bucky and Sam. There would never be a person that could do what you did. No person with the spirit, the heart, the goodness within them. 

You weren't a scientific anomaly. Not some experiment. Not a weapon or a political pawn. Just a person.

Through it all, Sam never lost sight of that. He knew down to the depths of his bones that you never wanted this. You held your head high, fought with honor and dignity. None of it changed that this was not the life you wanted. You loved your found family. You loved Nick Fury. Steve Rogers. Tony Stark. Natasha Romanoff. The list went on and on of the reasons why you stayed. 

And still, given the choice, he knows you'd give it up for a quiet life. For a life spent by the garden, soaking up the sun, life without constantly looking over your shoulder. For a life of peace. 

Not that anyone asked you what you wanted. It was never a choice placed in your hands. You both were acutely aware of that.

Your future hadn't been yours in quite some time. Your dreams. Your hopes. Your aspirations. Over the years, they'd been lost, scattered and abandoned on the path to becoming a hero. 

No, no one asked you what you wanted. But the worst part by far, the part that left Sam reeling and wondering, was when, or even why, he stopped asking you that too? His jaw tenses, his teeth painfully grinding together as he combs through his memory trying to remember the point that he gave up on your future too.

He couldn't remember the last time he asked you what you wanted, what you envisioned your life to be like. 

"Gentlemen?" Their heads snap up. A nurse stands before the two of them, she warmly smiles at Sam and Bucky, "Your friend is out of recovery. She isn't awake quite yet, but if you'd like to see her, I can take you." 

"Yes, please," Bucky hoarsely whispers, his voice breaking with despair. 

The nurse moves quickly, guiding and aiming them through the labyrinth of hospital corridors. Flashes of the night come to Sam with each and every turn in the winding corridors. Before Sam can get sucked into his own memory, a familiar voice echoes through the halls, sending chills down Sam's spine. 

He stands taller, moving faster as the nurse's pace quickens to find the source of the altercation. Sam's face blanches, a fresh wave of dread washing over him. He looks over to Bucky who wears a similar stunned expression. It truly was the night that wouldn't end for either of them. 

"This is a hospital," a receptionist insists, standing beside a security guard who looks entirely out of his element as SWORD agents rummage through the receptionist's desk. "You can't just-"

"Would you like to be charged with obstruction of justice tonight?" the familiar voice threatens. 

The receptionist doesn't shrink under the intense scrutiny nor the SWORD agents tearing up her desk for information, "This is an intensive care unit. You cannot-"

"Sam..." Bucky warns the moment that he sees the source of the familiar voice. 

"We've got the room number, General," a SWORD agent announces. 

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Sam hisses under his breath, biting back the string of curses that bubble from his mouth.

"How much trouble do you think I'd get in for killing him?" Bucky questions, his tone so clear and sharp that Sam can't be sure Bucky isn't actively planning a murder in his head.

"A lot," Sam easily replies. 

Bucky's eyes flicker between the three corridors that all lead into this main room. All perfect for an escape if he did end up killing General Ross tonight. "It'd be worth it."

"Yes, it would," Sam blankly mutters, staring at the man that sent your life spiraling all those years ago. General Ross. In the flesh. Standing before the receptionist's desk, with SWORD agents flanking his sides. Sam briskly strides over, wedging himself in between General Ross and the corridor to your room, "General Ross, something tells me you're not here to drop off flowers."

General Ross deeply inhales, his face as stoic and unimpressed as ever, "Step aside, Wilson."

"Do you wanna do this here?" Sam wonders, gesturing to the room filled with nurses, receptionists, and dozens of other civilians walking through the recovery wing. "Awful lot of witnesses for SWORD to take care of."

"We are well within our jurisdiction."

"Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division," Sam states, tilting his head slightly. "Last I checked, she wasn't a sentient weapon, General."

The General quirks a challenging eyebrow. "Check again."

"You wanna say that again?" Bucky sharply threatens, taking a long step forward, stepping right in the General's face. 

"You know the rules, Wilson," Ross states, ignoring Bucky all together. "Your flagrant violation of them only proves what I knew six months ago, the Asset is a danger to herself and to the general public. We'll be taking over from here."

"She has a name," Bucky seethes, Sam's extended arm the only thing holding him back from lunging at General Ross. There's an anger that simmers beneath his skin. You weren't even awake, not even conscious yet, and you were once again fighting for your life without even knowing it. He remembers that night in Latvia. The night he stitched you up. You begged him - no doctors, no hospitals. You were right. You were so entirely right. Not even at your most vulnerable, in your least threatening state, would they ever let you have peace. Even on the brink of death, they didn't care. They would do what it took. 

General Ross' eyes flicker between Sam and Bucky, "I warned you both that this would happen. She can't help herself, can she?"

"She just saved New York and stopped the Flag Smashers," Bucky speaks firmly, his voice harsh and unwavering. "Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"I'd watch your mouth, Sergeant." General Ross' eyes snap over to Bucky, "You're lucky I'm not throwing you both in cuffs too."

"For what?" Sam demands.

"Aiding and abetting."

"We aren't fugitives," Sam counters.

"Karli Morgenthau certainly is," General Ross shoots back. 

"I don't know where Karli Morgenthau is."

General Ross scoffs in disbelief, "You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth," Sam emphasizes. He throws his hands up in frustration, "Do you honestly think I would help Karli Morgenthau in any way, shape, or form after almost killing her? Do you think I want anything to do with her or any of the Flag Smashers?"

"The rest are dead, Wilson," General Ross states, dropping the bombshell like he's telling them that the sky is blue. 

Sam inhales in shock, "What?"

"The Flag Smashers. Every enhanced individual - except the Asset and Karli Morgenthau."

Sam's spine stiffens, standing up taller as the weight of the revelation settles over him. Yes, they were misguided, but they were people. People that you believed could be more than what they were told they were. "How?"

"En route to the Raft," the General answers. "A detonator controlled from a remote location." 

"And let me guess, you can't find the remote location?" Bucky guesses, quirking a knowing eyebrow at the General, his arms still crossed across his chest.

General Ross looks to Sam with an imploring look, the sharpness in his tone drops, "Can you really keep her safe? Both of them safe?"

Sam's eyes flicker up, rage lighting up his entire expression, "You want to talk about safety when they died in your custody?" 

"Where is she, Sam? Before you get the both of them killed," General Ross sharply orders. "You can't keep them safe. You can't keep her safe."

"You don't know anything," Sam remarks, emphasizing each and every syllable. "About any of us."

"If you could, if you could truly protect her, she wouldn't be lying there half dead."

Sam sucks in a breath like he's been punched in the gut. The words hit him hard. It's only Bucky's rooted stance that keeps them from steamrolling over the two of them. 

"Excuse me? If I may-" an unfamiliar voice interrupts, both Sam and Bucky too enthralled in their argument with General Ross to have noticed the man insert himself in their heated discussion. 

"Hold on," Sam curtly interrupts, cutting the man in the red tinted glasses off. Neither Sam nor Bucky spare a second glance to the man in the suit and tie, holding a briefcase tight in his hand. "Let's not pretend that you're suddenly concerned about the health and well being of anyone other than yourself, General. You want control. You want power."

"I want order," General Ross retorts. "Something you and The Asset have no interest in keeping. Tell me where Morgenthau is. Now."

"General Ross, is it?" the unknown man pivots, turning to face General Ross. "I think my client has made it abundantly clear that he's unaware of Karli Morgenthau's whereabouts. Perhaps sending your henchman to actually search for her would be a more fruitful use of your time."

"Your client?" Sam repeats, his head snapping over to look at the lawyer. 

"Client?" General Ross guffaws, his eyes snap back over to Sam, glaring at him, "A lawyer, Wilson? Do you think there's a lawyer good enough to get the three of you out of this mess? There's not a lawyer in the world that could get that criminal off the hook after what she did tonight."

"And do you think there's a jury in the world that would convict that hero in there after she single-handedly saved New York? After she stopped the Flag Smashers?" the lawyer counters, pointing in the direction of your room. He turns to Sam with an expectant look, "How many truck fulls of GRC members did my client single-handedly save tonight?"

"3," Sam chokes out, sharing an uneasy look with Bucky.

"3 trucks filled with people whose lives were save by the person you're so desperately trying to imprison. 3 trucks filled with people that I can guarantee are feeling especially gracious right now."

"She broke the law," General Ross fumes, lowering his tone to something more cold and calculating. "She knew that the second she stepped foot back in New York."

"There's not a jury in New York that would convict that woman in there," the lawyer matter of factly remarks. "You have the Accords - and that's all you have, General."

"You think I need a jury?" General Ross questions. 

"Careful, General," the lawyer warns, his voice eerily calm and composed. "You're treading some very dangerous waters there."

General Ross takes a singular step toward the lawyer, this time, speaking only to him, "You do not want to make an enemy of me."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing," the lawyer cooly retorts. "Unless you have a warrant, or my client is actually being charged with something, we're done here, General."

"Is this how you want to play this, Sam?" General Ross asks, turning back to Sam. There's a look in the General's face that tells Sam everything he needs to know, this wasn't going to end without a fight. A fight Sam had fought before and lost. Sam's eyes flicker between Ross and the unknown lawyer, a person whose name he didn't even know. Did he want to put your future into the hands of a stranger? Was General Ross right, was there even a person on this earth that could change your story's ending? What other choice did Sam have? To give up on your life without so much as a fight? Seeing the conflict warring in Sam's eyes, General Ross seizes the opportunity to tip the scale in his favor, to pour another helping of salt on Sam's fresh wounds, "I can guarantee you won't like the outcome, Wilson. You haven't in the past."

In that moment, Sam decides. You hadn't let him down. Not once. Not even when you were off fighting your own internal battles. You've always had his back. Now, it's his turn to do the same. He decides to bet on you one more time, "Have a good night, General."

A look of burning rage flashes across General Ross' face before it steels into something much more sinister. His shoulders roll back. He stands tall, looming over the three men.

And with one final verbal jab, General Ross turns on his heels, and leaves them in the wake of a first battle won, but a war just beginning, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"What just happened?" Sam exhales with a long breath.

"The court of public opinion," the lawyer cryptically responds. He turns toward Sam and Bucky, "It wouldn't be a good look to arrest someone who was critically injured while saving the city, but this won't end here. We won the battle, but the war isn't going to be as easy. General Ross is tenacious, I'll give him that. He knows what he wants and he's not going to stop until he's got his prized possession back under his thumb. You're going to need a really good lawyer."

"Well, um, not to ruin this whole moment, but who the hell are you?"

"A really good lawyer." The lawyer extends a hand out to Sam, then to Bucky, "My name is Matt, Matt Murdock, a friend thought you might need some help."

Sam quirks an eyebrow, his mouth twisting with unease, "A friend?"

"A friend," Matt repeats, his way of politely telling them that he wasn't going to divulge anything about the mysterious mutual friend that sent him.

Sam turns back to his seat, plopping down onto the hard plastic as he tenderly rubs his temples, "I just want this night to be over."

"And it will be soon," Matt promises, folding up his white mobility cane and taking the seat beside Sam. He speaks softly, but with a firmness that tells Sam how dire the situation is. "But this is only going to get worse. It's going to get ugly before it gets any better."

"I don't think it can get any worse," Sam remarks.

"It can," Matt retorts. "General Ross isn't going to go search for Karli, that's not his concern right now. Right now, he's going to use the chaos of tonight to figure out how to win. I wouldn't underestimate how far he'll take this. He's a force to be reckoned with, but so are you."

"We've fought this fight before. We lost the last time."

"You didn't have me last time."

Sam turns to face Matt, "Do you really think you can win?"

"Yes, I do," Matt insists. "At some point, General Ross lost control of the most powerful tool at his disposal. There's no regaining that control - not after tonight."

"What do you mean?" Bucky wonders, still not quite trusting the man seated before him.

"Your friend made quite the splash tonight," Matt explains. "There's videos circulating everywhere. She's the hero the city was waiting for."

"No, she's not," Sam immediately denies.

"Mr. Wilson-"

"Sam," Sam corrects. 

"Sam-"

"She's not the hero the city was waiting for," Sam forcefully continues. He didn't expect Matt Murdock to understand why his offense to the statement. You weren't the hero. You spent years being the hero and he wasn't about to sign you up for yet another fight. Not this time. "She's a person. A person that is tired of fighting. She's tired. We almost lost her tonight. I'm not signing her up for another fight."

"I can understand that - so ask her."

Sam falters at Matt's suggestion. He was the first person, aside from Sam and Bucky, in a very, very long time to suggest that you should get to choose what should become of your life. "You - you want me to ask her?"

"It is her life, after all. If she says yes, I'll do everything I can help you win."

"And if she says no?"

"Then I'll do everything in my power to make sure she gets off Ross' radar."

And perhaps, Karli was right about him. Perhaps Sam was an optimistic fool. But those words tell Sam everything that he needs to know. He knows that he can trust Matt Murdock with his life. He can trust him with you. "Okay."

"So why don't we start at the beginning? From the moment General Ross lost control."

Sam sighs, rewinding back to the moment that General Ross lost you for good. The airport. It wasn't the first time you'd stepped out of line, but it was the first time you'd ever gone against direct orders. It was the first time you'd ever told him no. The ripples of that day were still felt to this very day. "It'll always come back to that day at the airport, won't it?"

"The airport?" Matt asks. 

"It's a long story," Sam answers, but before he delves back into your long history, he turns to Bucky who'd stood before them staring at your door with anxiety and longing practically rolling off of him with a soft smile, "Hey, Bucky? Why don't you go in? One of us should be there when she wakes up."

Bucky nods, giving Sam a slight smile of gratitude, "Thanks."

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[slashhinginghasher]

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

I am going to rewrite The Hitcher with Soap and Ghost and you cannot stop me.

~

It's pissing it down out there.

Johnny can barely hear the radio over the sound of the rain, which has practically turned his windshield into a solid sheet of water. He's turned up the wipers on the rental car as fast as they can go, is half-afraid they'll go flying off, and they still can't keep up with the downpour. Isn't Texas supposed to be a desert? It sure had looked like it before the clouds rolled in, bringing night early and opening up with an unexpected fury. If he'd wanted to deal with this crap weather, he'd have stayed home in Scotland.

Well, no he wouldn't.

Life at home had been stifling as of late. Job was shite, flatmates were shite. Family on his arse to make something of himself. His girlfriend dumped him, claiming he "lacked direction", whatever the hell that meant. He turned in his nametag, cashed his last paycheck, and hopped on a plane across the pond, and fuck you all very much.

He's the only one on the road right now, at least as far as he can see. Which, granted, is hardly anything. He's tempted to pull over, wait the storm out on the side of the road, but he knows about flash floods. Drowning in the middle of the desert would just be embarrassing. Plus, he'd like to get his deposit back on the rental. He drives on at half the speed limit, white-knuckling the wheel and hoping he doesn't get mowed over by one of those fuck-off big trucks he's seen at every gas station.

He would've missed the figure entirely had he been going full speed: a sodden silhouette of a human being plodding along the side of the road. As it is, it takes a full second for the sight to process and for Johnny to slam on the brakes, nearly losing control of the car as it starts to hydroplane. Once he's come to a shaky stop, he checks the rearview mirror - that is definitely a person. Poor bastard must've run their car off the road when the storm hit.

Johnny puts the car in reverse and backs up, slowly so the stranger doesn't think he's trying to run them down. As soon as he pulls abreast of them, he throws open the passenger door so the interior light comes on.

"You need a lift, mate?" he calls, shouting nearly full volume to be heard over the rain.

The stranger is a man, fucking big bastard too, and Johnny feels a slight prickle of misgiving that he quickly shakes off. He's no stranger to the gym, and pretty scrappy in a fight if it comes down to it, so he figures he can defend himself if the guy turns out to be Ted Bundy.

He's starting to think it'll be a nonissue since the man hasn't said anything or even acknowledged Johnny, but then he ducks into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut behind him in one startlingly swift, silent movement.

The overhead light goes off with the door shut, and Johnny only has the faint glow of the dashboard to study the man he just invited into his space. He's got a dark jacket with the hood pulled up, and some kind of mask covering his face from the nose down. It must be uncomfortable, soaked through as he is, but he makes no move to take it off, even when Johnny reaches over to turn up the heat.

He seems even bigger in the confines of the car, swallowing up the space in a way that makes it harder for Johnny to breathe. He has to swallow a few times before he speaks.

"Which way you headed?" he asks.

The stranger stays silent, just staring out at the rain. Johnny's about to repeat himself when, in the space of a blink, the man turns to face him. He jumps at the sudden movement, heart in his throat for no good reason. The stranger is pale, a shock of blond hair plastered to his forehead over even blonder eyebrows. But what gets Johnny is his eyes. They're dark, so endlessly deep and dark against that light hair and the surrounding shadow of the hood, and Johnny feels like he's staring into the empty sockets of a skull.

"I'm getting your seats all wet," the stranger says.

His voice is deep, rough. A stone door grating shut over the mouth of the tomb.

And, even more surprisingly, British. Northern, from the sound of it, maybe around Manchester. Johnny tells himself the lurch in his stomach is from the excitement of meeting an unexpected neighbor this deep in the States.

"Um," he says. Clears his throat. "'S alright. It'll dry."

Brilliant conversation, John. Fantastic stuff.

"I'm Johnny, by the way." He feels immature and stupid the moment the nickname exits his mouth. "John. Mactavish."

A few beads of water drip off the stranger's hood, and Johnny's starting to shiver even though he's not the one that's soaked to the bone. He puts the car in drive and pulls back out onto the road, even though he still doesn't know what direction his passenger is heading. Anything is better than being swallowed up by the unfathomable depths of that gaze.

The radio's gone to static, so Johnny shuts it off. Just the road and the rain and his pulse in his ears and the black hole presence in the seat next to him.

The man fiddles about in the center console a bit, coming up with a cigarette lighter adapter Johnny had forgotten was there. He plugs it in and produces a damp carton of cigarettes from some inside coat pocket. Instead of pulling the mask down, he rolls it up from the bottom, revealing a strong chin and a wide mouth with a scar running through it. Johnny's own mouth feels dry as he watches from the corner of his eyes while the stranger taps a smoke free from the pack and places it between his lips.

"Best not do that in here," he blurts. "It's not my car."

The man acts as though he didn't hear him.

Johnny jumps when the cigarette lighter pops out. The stranger plucks it free, studies the glowing orange circle like it's the most interesting thing in the car. Then he cuts his gaze over to Johnny and presses it to the tip of his cigarette.

There's a faint sizzle as the damp paper lights up, and Johnny feels like he's burning up with it. His ma always said he had an overactive imagination, but he could swear the man next to him is thinking about pressing that ring of fire into flesh instead of paper.

The man takes a deep drag, then cracks the passenger window and blows the smoke in its general direction.

"Name's Ghost."

Johnny exhales, long and slow through his nose. Okay. The bloke's clearly had a shit day, just needed a hit of nicotine before he could be civil. That's okay. He nods like the man hasn't given him one of the most fucked up names he could have in this situation.

"So, what brings you all the way out here to the good old U.S. of A.?" Maybe if he can keep a conversation going, he'll stop feeling like he's made a terrible mistake.

Ghost just shrugs. Christ, he's a big fucker. His shoulders must be almost twice as broad as Johnny's, and Johnny's no scrawny little shrimp. Why is he thinking about his shoulders?

The rain is starting to ease up, but they're well past sundown and it's still dark as hell out there. The headlights catch a glint of something reflective. After a bit of squinting, Johnny can make out the shape of a car nose-first in a roadside ditch.

"That yours?"

They're quite a ways down the road from where he picked up Ghost. No wonder he was in a mood.

"Nah."

Johnny sits up a bit, surprised. What are the odds of him coming across two travelers stranded in the rain along the same stretch of road? The car definitely looks to be in rough shape, though. He doesn't really have room for another person in here, what with his bags and all, but he could give them some dry clothes, a bit of first aid, offer to send help back from the next town. He starts to slow down.

Ghost's hand clamps down on Johnny's thigh and presses his foot to the accelerator. Johnny tries to lift his foot, but it's like fighting against a mountain.

"What the hell?" he shouts. "Let go of me, you big bastard!"

The numbers on the speedometer are climbing alarmingly fast. Ghost's hand is burning hot even through the fabric of his gloves and Johnny's jeans and steamin' jesus no one's hands have a right to be that big. They shoot past the other car, moving far too quickly to see if there's anyone inside, and Ghost's grip on Johnny's leg is getting tighter.

They're going almost 100 mph now, and Johnny's getting ready to throw the emergency brake in desperation when Ghost suddenly lets go. Johnny eases off the gas, hits the brake as soon as they've slowed enough that it won't send the car into a tailspin. His thigh is cold, tingling. He whips around to glare at Ghost in righteous anger and not a little fear.

"What the fuck was that about, you arsehole? We could have crashed!" He's shaking now as the adrenaline starts to drop, and rakes a frantic hand through his hair. "Someone back there could've needed help!"

Ghost stares at him, implacable.

"Keep driving, Johnny."

He'll never be able to explain - to the cops or god or anyone else - why he listens.

"We need to get to town," he rambles aloud to himself as his brings them up to a safe and reasonable speed. "Tell them there's been a wreck and they need to send help."

Ghost tosses his cigarette butt out the window.

"Don't bother. It's too late for him."

Johnny's going to give himself whiplash with the number of times he's twisted his head to stare at the other man.

"What d'you mean, 'too late'? Did you see him earlier? Why didn't you say anything?"

Ghost doesn't answer. Johnny's starting to feel really uneasy.

"What the fuck does 'too late' mean, Ghost?!"

That gets his attention. There's a heat in Ghost's eyes that wasn't there before, like the heat of his hand on Johnny's thigh, or the heat of a cherry red ember.

"Too late means dead, Johnny." There's a soft huff from behind the mask that could maybe be mistaken for a laugh. "Bled out from a hole in the head."

It's probably not safe to have his eyes off the road for this long, but Johnny can't look away. It's instinct, the prey needing to know where the predator is at all times.

"How do you know?" he croaks.

Ghost's eyes are sparkling.

"'Cause I'm the one that gave it to him."

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #ghoap #cod #my writing #hitcher au

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

People Are Strange (ROTTMNT VAMPIRE AU)

OMG, IM GONNA THROW UP SO MICH INFO ON YOU GUYS IM SO SORRY BUT VAMPIRES ARE ON THE BRAIN AND THEY MAKE ME DO THINGS

A TAD bit inspired off of Lost Boys, so it's got that 80s cliche/grunge to it - also @m0nster-fluffer TOTALLY didn't encourage or inspire me to finally write all this stuff out... Totally not 👀

This is inspired by a Roleplay idea I came up with... But was never able to act out so I'm glad I was able to write some if the stuff down!

BASICALLY... It's just like the brothers and MAYBE April (but I think she'll just be a normal human they let tag along, and maybe she does some of their... Hunting for them) are vampires, usually come out late at parties or do their own thing, riding around on motorcycles, being nuisance to many, and threats to others.

I feel if it were a scenario, it'd probably go one (or your whole group, depends on if you want your character to already know the guys or not) of the Roleplayers moves into this small secluded town where all this happens, and somehow gets wrapped up in meeting the four weirdos + April, and then starts discovering the creepy and spooky blah blah ect.

The Hamato Brothers are something no one wants to be around with, cause eventually, you go missing. You get lost. Never to be found, it's kind of difficult when their very... Persuasive.

Basic twist/plot for this whole thing: Everyone in this town but you know the guys are vampires. You and your family have no clue until you find out why the people of this town don't want you to leave, try to keep you trapped in this so called, happy, campy, little peace of heaven off somewhere deep in the woods. You're new meat- new faces. New prey.

The guys had started getting more relentless and more brash toward the townsfolk until you showed up... They can't just give you up that easy.

(And my rant about what I think the guys would be like HEE)

Raphael Raph is one of the more docile of his brothers, he isn't as peer pressuring or over energetic as his other three, usually he's like that big brother 'come on, leave em alone' energy if he can see someone getting stressed over his brothers trying to get them to jump like- twenty feet from the beach pillars. But, as much as he seems like a chill dude, his vampirism is... Different. When he's mad, he isn't afraid to let you know. He can get aggressive and almost animalistic, a LOT of 'accidents' involving people can be from Raphs... Temper-tantrums.

Any vampire powers? Yes! The guy is a total brute, and it's not just for show. He could lift two trucks with both hands with absolute ease if he wanted to.

Leonardo Oh yikes, one of the brothers that a LOT of people tend to be persuaded by. Leo has the tendency to make some of the riskier decisions and ideas of the group, just to see how freaked out they can get new comers, what makes em run away screaming. It makes it more enjoyable for him. He loves- and I mean LOVES a chase once in a while, even if it spreads out into an entire week, he doesn't stop, as long as your in his town, his territory, you can't escape him or his brothers.

Leo's vampirism is one of the MANY faults and reasons the brothers have almost been caught. The guy pushes and tests limits like the little ass he is and waits to see what happens. Raphs killed people, sure, but Leo's killed people, critters, and he tends to leave them on people's doorsteps just to freak them out- especially if they've pissed him off. Or he's... Taken a liking to you.

His actions have gotten him locked up in the Church by the people a few times. And even though he continues to do it, he HATES getting chained up cause he's stuck their for a damn week, and all his brothers do is ridicule, taunt, or scold him. Any vampire powers? Yes! Leo's got some kind of... Trance inducing powers - it isn't like it is in shows or movies. It's a lot more... Subtle than that. It's he can make his point or voice sound more alluding, more conniving, and it almost feels like you can't refuse the guy.

Donatello. The lesser known of the vampire brothers, Donnie is extremely quiet and keeps to himself. And not in a shy way, this guy's seemingly resting bitch-face/death glare looks like he's looking directly through you and into your deepest darkest fears. He probably is.

But once you get to know him - as rare as it is unless he decides you're worth his time, he's still pretty blunt and cold, and he's almost cruel in some way. You can see some dark joy behind his eyes watching you get scared or squirm under his cold arm over your shoulder.

He doesn't seem like it, but he's got that persuasion and slight bloodlust that his twin Leo has. He just more collected about it. He tends to be the one who doesn't cause much of the missing accidents, (he's much more intelligent to clean and hide a crime scene, please, the man isn't a reckless idiot like his brothers.) But the one or two he's done are because someone pissed him off. The someone is his twin. Those two get in nasty- and I don't put it lightly when I say NASTY fights. Ranging from verbal to physical, it's rare that they actually get along so much so that they barely even talk to each other cause it ends in yelling or biting and scratching.

Any vampire powers? Yes! Same as his twin, maybe he dpes it more with that smolder or look he has rather than his voice, but it still gets the job done.

Michelangelo

And finally, the youngest of the Hamatos, Mikey. Of course, don't let that fool you. This vampire tends to be the most welcoming of newcomers out if all his brothers, while he's eerily sweet and calm, it does the trick to put people's minds at ease and get them to join their little rag-tag group.

He's usually the one you'd go to if you feel on edge about everything, him and Raph being more docile to newcomers before they decide to pounce.

While he gives on the laid-back persona... Don't get him mad or threaten his brothers. It'd like a whole new creature from the deepest darkest part of your soul is unleashed if you get on this vampires nerves.

And he's fast. They all are. Don't get me wrong, but the stealth this guy has sneaking and sprinting through woods. You're not gonna escape.

Any vampire powers? Yes! Super speed and levitation! The levitation is usually on his part - meaning he's the one floating around a few feet of ground and picking things up of the floor a few feet away from him. But he can pick people up if he decides he's too tired or annoyed to chase.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt rp #roleplay #rp #rise of the tmnt #vampire au #vampire rp #vampire roleplay #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph

[midnightdevotion]

First

Requested: Hangman x reader (age gap)

warnings: Age gap? soft! hangman

a/n: this took me a few days but I hope you love it.

You had Jake Seresin confused. You two had been hot and heavy flirting for three months now and nothing. Not to brag but Jake usually got what he wanted in three goddamn minutes. Yet here he was every time he was at the hard deck, flirting with you at the bar.

You were driving him crazy in the best way. At first he figured you were hot and you two could have some fun. Then he started to catch feelings. It didn't even take much for him to fall, the way your eyes sparkled while you laughed, your full smile in his direction when you'd see him walk in. When your hand would touch his while passing a beer to him and shoot tingles up his arm.

He could have sworn you liked him too, but then why has this song and dance been going on for so long if you wanted him like he wanted you? Hell you two had been on multiple dates in his mind, but you hadn't even kissed him. Did the beach days and movie nights not mean anything to you?

It had gotten to the point that everyone was making fun of him, and he wasn't as focused in the sky. He was making way too many mistakes and the dagger team was teasing and taunting relentlessly. Sighing he climbs down out of his f-18 and angrily yanks off his helmet.

"Hangman!" He groans as he hears rooster call after him. The last thing he needs is Bradshaw giving him a hard time. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder and he turns.

"Jake, I mean this in the nicest way fucking possible but you need to talk to her, because your flying is shit." He glares at the sandy blonde

"I know! I just can't get a read on her and I don't like it." he runs his hand through his sweaty hair.

"Just tell her that" and with that Jake is left to his thoughts. Why is it all so different with you. He knows the age gap between you is a bit much at 10 years, but he thought he'd been clear that all he wanted was you.

With a new found determination he decides Rooster is right. He needs to air it all out once and for all. He doesn't even bother heading to the locker room, just immediately going to the parking lot. He can't sit uncertainty any longer. It feels like it's eating him alive. Clawing at his heart with the fear that all this time he was hoping you were his and he was always going to be yours.

It took him ten minutes to arrive outside your house, and another 25 to build the courage to actually open the door to his truck. He spent another ten minutes just standing in front of your door staring at it.

Finally he knocks, his heart is beating hard, and his hands are sweaty. When you open the door his breath catches. You might be in just sweatpants an old t shirt with your hair pulled back but he thinks you are more beautiful than anything in the world. The way your cheeks darken with a pink hue as you look down at your clothes.

"I uh didn't know you were coming over" and jake can't help the grin that takes over his features.

"neither was I" he gestures down at his flight suit. He watches as you furrow your brows.

"Why are you here then?" you glance up at him in confusion and he curses himself for not stopping for flowers. You deserve flowers.

"well I uh- I need to talk to you" he watches you swallow and nod, opening the door a bit wider. He steps in and doesn't even bother trying to get to a more comfortable place like the couch. It's like he's finally here ready to get it off his chest and he can't wait any longer. So in the middle of your entry way he stands in front of you and drops everything that has been on his mind.

"I can't figure you out. Here I think we are dating, we hold hands, you dance with me, my whole family knows about you, but then it's like we are just friends too. You've met my friends and I haven't met yours. All I think about is kissing you. If you don't feel the same it's fine really just tell me now so I can stop embarrassing myself." He sees the shocked look on your face and he almost groans.

"I uh... I didn't know we were dating" and the blush painting your cheeks is so beautiful it rivals anything Picasso ever did, at least to Jake it does. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it.

"I'm uh really bad at dating, or flirting, or knowing when someone is flirting... I just thought you were being nice to me" he laughs when he hears that.

"You're telling me this whole time you thought I was just being nice? And I thought we were dating?" the exasperation in his tone is thick.

"I guess- I never really.. Guys never really." You groan and he just smiles at you, cupping your cheek.

"Now I really wish I would've stopped and gotten flowers." He watches as you blush.

"Will you go on a date with me then?" he asks, looking into your eyes until you look away, nodding your head sheepishly.

"I um have to tell you something first though.." His attention is fully on you, what could it be? Did you have a boyfriend all ready?

"I um- well I've never kissed anyone" and your cheeks light up with a new intensity. He's shocked to say the least, his train of thought completely derailed. He can't help the spark of possessiveness at the idea of being your first everything. He groans, and he watches the way you flinch.

"No No honey it's not bad.. I just holy hell do I want to kiss you" You look up at him to see his eyes darker than they were just minutes ago, the gleam in them something you had never seen before.

"I um-- Okay" His eye brows raise at this, he didn't expect to kiss you now.

"are you sure?"

"yeah please" and who is he to deny you?

So he back you up slowly to the door, his eyes locking on yours. You swallow hard, knowing he is going to be good at this and so scared you wouldn't be. The cold door behind you breaks your train of thought, sending a shiver down your spine. He looks like a wolf about to capture its prey, devastatingly beautiful and deadly all at once.

Suddenly he's all you can see and feel, every sense of yours is captured in the beauty of Jake seresin. His hand caressing your cheek, and the other on your waist. His thumb is rubbing your hip and you feel tingles shooting all over your body. Your breath catches when he tilts your head up, angling you so he can slot his lips over yours.

His lips taunt you, slowly. Moving so softly that you might think this kiss never happened. You decide to change that, hands reaching up and into his hair you pull him harder against you. He takes the hint and suddenly his lips are moving with need. The kind of kiss that makes your toes curl and fills your stomach with butterflies. The kind of kiss that as you two pull away, pupils blown wide and heavy breathing all you want is to keep kissing.

If it were up to you, you'd kiss this man till the end of time, but he has more restraint than you. So he smiles softly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"if we keep going darling it's going to be harder to stop, and I want to take you on our first date, then we can do the whole heavy petting things teenagers do." You laugh and blush at the thought, so happy he implied something less than sex.

"You've got a deal"

And if you snuck kisses from each other all night, watching movies and pressed up against each other, then you'd say you don't regret waiting for your first kiss at all.

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