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bluetimeombre · 4 months

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──•~❉᯽❉ Third times the charm

Tom and you met over zoom whilst auditioning for your roles in the ballad of songbirds and snakes. Instant attraction and the chemistry was off the charts, everyone could see it, even you two fools. In every interview you did, as co-stars, as best friends and finally, as a couple…

(from me: hi, sorry, I’m dying for Tom Blyth content so I made so myself. I can't bring myself to write y'/n so i'm just going with 'you.' But I wrote it so you're british, oops. This is also to make up for choosing timmy in the 'call it what you want to' series, for the tom girlies, enjoy!)

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

' How well do the stars of Ballad of songbirds and snakes know each other? - Vanity Fair. '

Tom, you and Josh sat together in the Vanity Fair studio. While Tom kept his cards close to his chest (literally), you and Josh waited anxiously. You were sure you would win though, even Josh was sure you would win. Tom and you had spent almost every day together all year. People in the studio- who had only caught a ten minute glimpse of your friendship- knew your souls were made together.

'First question,' said Tom, pulling the cards back further. 'What is my biggest fear?'

Josh slapped his knee in frustration and you slumped in your chair, laughing to yourself. You must know, surely. 'Mine is gonna be, probably, a little bit more shallow,' said Josh before you could even make a guess.

You rose your brows focusing on a specific point on the floor. 'Shallow?'

Tom rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His lips were tilted in a fond smile at her concentration. 'You ok?' he laughed, 'you know this- you've got this.'

'No, I do know this, you've told me,' you say.

'You've told her?' gasped Josh.

'I've probably told you!' said Tom. He seemed completely absent minded over the fact he was still holding onto your shoulder, massaging it gently.

'Ok, I think it's- ironically- snakes. That's my guess.' Finally, you breath and cross your legs over.

'Interesting. Josh?' he asked, taking his hand from you. (Maybe eagle eyed fans would see the way his hand flexed at his side, just under the chair. And maybe twitter would blow up with the Mr Dracy like move.)

'I was gonna say mountain lions.'

You and Tom laughed. 'That's more shallow?'

'In what way is that more Shallow?' Tom laughed.

Josh gesture wildly to you. 'I thought you were gonna say something more conceptual.'

'Oh sorry,' you apologise.

Josh leant back on his chair. 'Yea, you should be.'

Tom finished writing on the card. 'So, it was my childhood fear, which I've obviously gotten over but it was-' he turned the card, revealing his scribble. 'Snakes.'

'Yes!' you cheered. 'I knew it!'

'I think it's because I used to watch a lot of Indiana Jones as a kid and because he was afraid of snakes, I think it transferred on to me,' he explained.

'Makes sense,' you shrugged.

'Cool people are afraid of snakes,' Tom agreed.

'And mountain lions,' added Josh, causing your cheeks to heat up with laughter. There was probably nobody who could be so nonchalant in how he makes you laugh.

'Point to you!' cheered Tom, holding up his hand. Quickly you high-fived him and held his hand for a flickering moment before moving on.

'What is my go-to karaoke song?'

You were safe to say, gob-smacked. You swivel in your seat, eyes wide. 'You have a go-to karaoke song?'

He stares at you, just as shocked at your surprise. 'We all do.'

'We do?' you asked. 'Then what the hell is Josh's?' you turn to him, curious.

'9 to 5, Dolly Parton,' he said, seriously. But even that got you cracking up.

'I expect one of you to know this,' said Tom, scribbling his song choice.

'Oh, no pressure then,' you said.

'We went to karaoke all the time.'

'Yes but I don't remember all the song,' you fold your arms over your chest, chewing down on your lips.

'Oh no,' Josh hunched over and you pat his back, mumbling to yourself. 'I feel like- I wanna say it was some punk-rock thing.'

'Do you want a clue?' Tom offered.

'Yes!' Josh.

'No!' You.

'Ok, not then,' said Tom, deciding.

'Wait, no, that's not fair,' Josh complained, 'I want a clue.'

Tom shrugged, holding out his arms. 'Boss said.'

'Yea I don't know why I said that,' you laugh, still thinking. You remember him singing to you, in your trailers or hanging out on set. He or you would strum a guitar and sing together. But karaoke?

'Mambo number 5,' Josh announced.

'Mambo number 5,' Tom checked.

Your brows scrunched up. 'That's punk rock?'

Josh looked at you, then remembered what he was saying. 'No, i'm gonna change mine to all the small things.'

'Ok, your guess?' asked Tom, nudging you.

'Oh I don't know,' you shrug, 'Sexy back, Justin Timberlake.'

'Close!'

'I was close?' you gasp, jumping up in your seat.

'It was,' he shows the card. 'Senorita, Justin Timberlake.'

You and Josh laughed together.

'I don't think I ever heard you sing that!' Josh argued.

'We definitely did, definitely.'

Josh shook his head, body shaking with laughter. 'I don't think I even know the words to the song.'

Tom shifted in his seat, changing cards. 'That's the point of Karaoke, they're up on the screen'

You turn to him, face screwed up and holding onto his knee. 'That's not the point of karaoke babe,' you said solemnly. It was a joke between the cast, how often you called people babe. As a brit. Sometimes you even said it in a Gemma Collins way.

'Anyway, half a point to you!'

You fist pump the air while Josh complains loudly. Whilst bickering, Tom moved on and had to repeat the question.

'What is my favourite mode of New York transportation?' he asked.

You chuckled to yourself, rubbing your head. 'That is the funniest question ever.'

Tom scoffed, his lips curling up. 'How is that a funny question?'

'I've just never known transportation to come up in one of our conversations. Imagine meeting someone and being like 'hey, guess what? my favourite mode of transport is...''

Josh laughed at the hurt look on Tom's face and your own sarcasm.

'Oh yea, what is it then?'

'Your motorcycle,' you said obviously.

'Well, you knew it didn't you,' he pointed out. The two of you bickering like a married couple. Even the crew behind the scene were blushing at you two and laughing.

'I didn't get to guess!' erupted Josh.

Tom and you laughed, holding onto each other and apologising to him.

Josh leant back in his chair, throwing his leg over his knee. 'Ok so motorcycle but i'm gonna go the extra mile and say- I think it's a Honda.'

Tom calmed down, wiping tears of laughter before showing the camera his answer. 'It is motorcyle but Josh is wrong, it's not a Honda so the point goes to you.'

You pat yourself on the back while Josh looks into the camera.

'This is what happens when you give 110%. Is this the example we want to set?'

Tom rests his hand on your back, un-consciously rubbing it. 'Ok so, point to you and Josh gets ... three quarters of a point.'

You nod your head. '75%. Have you got any points?'

Josh glared at you. He then noticed Tom's hand resting on your back. 'Why are you comforting her? i'm the loser.'

You clicked your tongue, pushing him. It was lucky you didn't notice how Tom blushed, turning back to his cards and made a mental note to keep his hands to himself.

The three of you continued down the questions:

'If I weren't an actor, what profession would I be?' Tom

'What are you? writing down a novel there?' You

'You'd definitely work with mountain lions.' Josh

'For some reason I want to say Fire man but that's not it.' You

'What is my coffee order?' Tom

'Oh, I know this, it's the same as mine. Josh, you know this?' You

'Of course not.' Josh

'What is my biggest pet peeve?' Tom

'So many things come to mind.' You

'Am I a grumpy old man to you?' Tom

'Tom has always been so relaxed and easy going, go ahead and put a point down for me.' Josh

For the next question, Tom looked pointedly at you. 'I really hope you get this. What is my hidden talent?'

Josh looked seriously at Tom, only suddenly playing the game. 'I think I know what mine is.'

'I think you should both get this,' he said, writing down the answer.

'Whistling,' you guessed simply.

Tom quipped his lips at you, head moving slightly.

'Well, I was also gonna say whistling,' Josh smirked.

Tom laughed. 'You're so full of shit.'

'I said it first, you're good at whistling. You can whistle like a disney bird,' you said, trying to win more points in flattery.

'Thank you.'

You looked into the camera. 'Tom's actually going to be playing a bird in the new Snow White movie with Rachel Zegler.'

The boys laughed.

Tom nodded, turning around the card. 'The answer is whistling.'

Josh and you shake hands and Tom started to show of his whistling skills, the familiar tune of the hunger games and holding up three fingers.

'I was- that made me nervous,' said Tom shakily.

'Yea, you were shaking,' you said.

Tom reached out for your arm, before remembering before and pulling back. 'I know, did you see my lip quivering.'

'I was nervous for you.'

'Yea, yea, yea,' agreed Tom.

Josh pretended to get out of his seat. 'I should go, i'll leave you guys to it.'

You pulled him back down while Tom moved on, asking the couple final questions. It ended with you earing 6 points, while Josh was at a lousy 2.75. But then, it was yours and Josh's turn to 'flip the script' on Tom. If he got them wrong, you guys got the points so you'd made sure to chose difficult questions.

You just hadn't expected Tom to know everything.

'Tom.'

'Yes,' he stared intently, ready for anything.

'What is my dogs name?' you smirked, thinking he wouldn't remember. Since you were on set and then traveling for press your dog was staying with your family and Tom had only met him once or twice.

'Easy. Padfoot.'

Your brows dropped and you turned away, pressing your lips into a tight line.

Tom nudged you. 'Did you think I wouldn't get it?' he asked and his jaw-dropped when you nodded. 'Of course i'd get it, I love your boy.'

'What the hell is a Padfoot?' asked Josh.

'It doesn't matter,' you waved of, trying to distract yourself from blushing. You really didn't think Tom would get it, would care enough to remember.

'It's a Harry Potter thing,' explained Tom. He stretched out his arm so it held onto the back of your chair. Not touching, right.

Josh asked his question. Tom got it right again and you were looking down at your card, wondering if it was hard enough for him.

Tom watched you set the cards down, tuck your chin into your chest and put your hands behind your chair. 'Oh no,' he chuckled.

'There is a piece of jewellery that I always wear. Now obviously i couldn't wear it whilst filming, but I had it kept in my trailer. And after we wrapped it went straight back on. The question is what piece of jewellery is it?'

Josh was laughing and trying to guess himself while Tom panicked. Every day for a year he had been around you. He'd had lunch with you, hung out in your trailer, you'd nap together and laugh together. He's seen you swimming in nothing but a lovely swim suit. He'd held your hands and you guys had even worn each others rings. How could he not know? He was beating himself up about it, all the while you smirked at him. Tom could almost excuse the fact of being a shitty friend to see how giddy it got you.

He tried to peek behind the chair but you shifted. 'Ok I don't think it's a ring because you change up your rings a lot.'

'Ok,' you hum.

Tom pulled at his lip. You weren't hiding your ears so it couldn't be an earing. That's when he remembered. Tom clicked his fingers. 'It's your locket! and it's gold!'

You sit up straight. 'How?!' Tom immediately looked to your neck- or maybe it was closer to your chest- where your locket dangled just under your shirt 'Well, I think we know who knows each other the best!'

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Some months later, about eight, you and Tom were back at a quiz. The two of you were starring in different things. Tom's series which he stared in, 'Billy the kid' was having it's third and final debut while you staring in a adaptation of 'Malibu Rising' by Taylor Jenkins Reid for Apple Tv.

' The BFF test! ' - Glamour.

'How do you think we're gonna do?' asked Tom.

'That's not even a question Tom, we're gonna do great!' you threw a thumbs up at the camera and Tom copied you with a grin.

'Let's do this shit!' he yelled.

The crew behind the camera gasped and laughed while you hunched over, chuckling. He realised his mistake, how he wasn't supposed to swear and put his hand over his mouth.

'I am so sorry,' he apologised. Only when you caught your breath did you stand up and hold onto him. His arm wrapped around you back, holding you too.

Eventually, once you two had regained yourselves, you were asked how well you think you know each other.

'Pretty well,' you said.

'Very well,' Tom corrected.

'Very well it is, very well it is,' you said.

The crew behind the camera asked when you first met.

'Over zoom,' you said.

Tom nodded. 'it was a chemistry read for hunger games. Coriolanus and Lucy-Grey. You sang an acoustic version of Silver springs and I watched.'

'And the rest is history. Inseparable ever since,' you smile, swaying side to side while Tom watched with a fond smile. 'But seriously, it was a very lovely moment and since then, i've had a best friend in Tom.'

'Aw,' he said, throwing an arm around your shoulder and drawing you in. 'I love this girl,' he told the camera.

Eventually, once the two of you were finished with the introductions they had you stand opposite each other with a small notebook and pen. Your task: to write a compliment about each other.

Tom was already writing down his, page being filled up quickly. 'How much time you got?'

'Done,' you said, closing your notebook.

Tom looked up. 'What?'

'I'm kidding,' you assured him at his shocked and maybe slightly hurt face. 'How are you writing so much?'

'I have a lot to say about you.'

'Sappy.'

'Shut it, you love it.' Tom was focused on writing down, getting all his thoughts and a thousand unsaid words on page. He couldn't tell how you watched him with a smile and a shimmering glimmer in your eyes, but fans could, and they'd deem it the look of love.

After a moment longer of writing, you finished, looking at him. 'Ready?'

Tom finished his sentence and nodded. 'Ready.'

'Ok you go first,' you say.

'No, you go first,' he insists, the two bickering over each other. 'Ladies first.'

'Age before beauty,' you say.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully but held up his notebook. 'This is- this is nerve racking, woah,' he says, laughing.

'No, I know. I'll turn around if that helps,' you go to turn.

Tom grabs your arm. 'No, don't-' he cleared his throat, let you go and started to read. 'You are incredibly talented, that's the first one. Your acting, your voice, it's unbelievable and every time I watch you at your work, i'm in awe. As well as that, you are so dedicated to your craft, whether it's flying back and forth for your movies or not giving up until you've nailed a scene, you just- you give 110% every time and it's inspiring to watch. Not only do you make me want to be a better actor, but a better man-'

He read from his notebook, flicking through the pages as you watched, mouth covered and tears welling up in your eyes.

'You're insanely intelligent, you have such a unique style that is so you. You give confidence to others and always bring the best out in them. You're witty, you're hilarious, absolutely hilarious, I don't laugh with anyone the way I laugh with you. And you are just the most beautiful girl in the world.' Only when he had finished did he look up and see you wiping your eyes.

'Christ,' you mutter, turning away as the crew laughed.

Tom wrapped you in a bear hug, laughing and rocking you back and forth. 'You're not suppose to cry.'

'How can I not?!' you mumble into his chest. 'Ok.' you took a deep breath, calming yourself before standing back from him and looking down at your own notes. 'Well mine just seem so rubbish now,' you joke toward the camera.

'Tom. You're a talented actor. One of the most talented i've ever met, or ever seen. Watching you on the hunger games, I mean, I was speechless half the time. You're the kindest and sweetest man I know. It's no secret i've always said, men, they suck but you, you changed that. You, single-handily restored my faith in men,' you say, creating a laugh through the studio and him. 'Er, i've just listed compliments, funny, caring, talented, gorgeous, beautiful, so-so hot- I mean, the list goes on but it's not gonna be anything like you gave me.'

'It's perfect, thank you.'

You gesture to him, looking in the camera. 'He's a gentleman.'

Your next task was harder, looking into each other eyes for one minute.

'Is this gonna be like, a staring contest,' you wonder out loud as the two of you already keep your eyes on each other.

'I hope not, my eyes sting already,' says Tom. For a moment, the two of you are just there staring at each other. Your hands behind your back, his at his side as small smiles play at your lips.

'Your eyes are so blue, christ, i've never just stared at them like this before,' you compliment. 'Add that to my list.'

'Are you crying? You look like you're going to cry again?' asked Tom, peering closer at you.

'That's just me, i'm always in a state of verge of tears.'

He laughs, but keeps his eyes open and on you. After a minute, you two finally looked away, rubbing at your eyes. 'I think we were having a staring contest then,' he said.

'Yea, yea, yea, my eyes hurt.'

There was a couple extra challenges, trying to say the same word at the same time (you guys failed every time except last where you both said 'hunger games') and to mirror each others move. The last one, is a trust fall.

'Send it!' Tom pretended to fall back immediately as you lunged to catch. He didn't fall but laughed at your readiness. 'Send it!'

'Stop!' you yell.

'Ok, for real this time, you ready?' he asked, holding his arms over his chest and glancing back at you.

'I'm so scared!'

Tom looked at the camera. 'Why are you scared? i'm the one falling!'

'Ok, on the count of three,' you say, holding your arms out.

'Are you counting up or down?'

'Down. Ok, three... two...one!'

Tom fell back and you held him up, pushing his back. The two of you stumbled a bit causing Tom's eyes to widen, but you had him.

'You are heavier than you look,' you say. 'All that pure muscle.'

Tom struggled back up and then it was your turn. 'On the count of three?' he asked, arms out.

'No!' you whine. 'I hate this!'

'Trust me. Don't you trust me?'

You have your hands tucked to your side. You look into the camera. 'This is gonna send me right back to therapy.'

Tom laughs behind you but reaches over to hold onto your shoulders. 'C'mon, you can do this, i'll slowly ease you back.'

You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips, stifling a hum. 'That's cheating.'

Tom tuts, 'No it's not: now-' gently he held onto your shoulders and-bending at the knees- he gently eased you down, until he was crouching and until you were rocking on your heels. You took a deep breath as he held you back up. Your arms were still over your chest as your body wracked with a laugh.

'That was so dumb.'

Tom still had you in his hold, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

A year later and finally, the fans dreams came true. When the video was released, fans went crazy, thinking it was fake or a mashup of clips put together. Instead, it was true. A very real video of the two of you doing a 'couples quiz'.

'Hello!' Tom waved at the camera, before gesturing between the two of you. 'We are here today to do the-'

'Couples interview!' you finish. 'Years in the making it would seem,' you added, slapping your cards over your knee.

Tom looked at his cards. 'What is my first name?'

'Tom Keir Blyth,' you answer easily, 'not Thomas. Against popular contradiction.'

He laughed, knowing you'd call him Thomas to annoy him if you ever bickered. 'Not Thomas.'

'Call him Thomas and he'll break up with you.'

'That hasn't happened!' he told the camera, whacking you playfully with the cards a you sat across from him. 'Ok, moving on, where did I grow up?'

'Birmingham,' you say, in your best Birmingham accent.

'What was my fist film role?' he asked, smirking at the question.

You sigh, throwing your head back. 'Ok so... I don't know if it was your very first one, or maybe it was like, the second or something but you were in Robin Hood, and you played feral child number three.'

'That's exactly what I have on my card,' he said, showing it off to you.

'I'm the best girlfriend,' you sing.

Tom laughed, marvelling at you for a moment before moving onto the next question. 'Oh ok, where was our first kiss?'

You shrug, thinking it obvious. 'On set.'

Tom looked back down to his cards. 'Oh yea, I should've specified- our first kiss like as a couple, or just not on set.'

You laugh. 'Ok, cool, I was gonna say, that's an easy one. So of set, I guess, it was my hotel room. In New York, yea.'

'See, I had down-'

'You had something else down?' you gasp, leaning over in your chair.

'Yea. I had it down as the picnic, when you came to see me on set of Billy,' he explained. He remembered the day fondly. You and him, riding horses into the sandy terrain, taking a picnic down and one of his breaks and rolling around the blanket, laughing and digging fingertips into each other. Lips clashing in the heat of sun.

'But we- ok fine, that was our first kiss.'

'We did, kiss in the hotel room, you're right,' he insisted.

'No, but if you're counting first kiss as a couple then you're right, the picnic.'

'No you should still get the point because that kiss does count.'

Your exchange could've gone on forever if someone behind the camera hadn't spoken up, saying how adorable you two were, causing blushes from both of you before he moved on.

'What is my favourite thing to bring with me when I travel?' he asks.

'Me,' you say, without faltering.

'Correct!' he chucked the card behind him.

'Was it actually?'

Tom nodded. 'Yea. Well number one was you and then the second was my motorbike key.'

You roll your eyes. 'Of course it was. Thank you for putting me above the key at least.'

'Always, darling, always. What is my favourite jacket to wear?' he asked.

You thought about it, carefully and for a while. 'You don't have many but I'm trying to think which you wear the most.'

'I think you'll know it, you should get it.'

You raise your head to the ceiling, taking it more seriously than probably needed. He concentrated on you, wondering how hard you were thinking. 'The thing is- i'm thinking practicality. So like, that would be your motorbike jacket. But the one that I see you in most, and that I wear the most, is like your long, black jacket?'

'I had my motorbike jacket down, so half a point.'

'It crossed my mind!' you defended.

'It did, yes. So 50% of a point.'

You laugh. 'Not 75%.

'Who was my first celebrity crush?' he asked.

'Me,' you answer sarcastically.

Tom rose his card, covering his grin. 'Do you want to try again?'

'No,' you say. You knew what it was, you were taking the joke from him.

'Please?' he asked quietly.

You laugh at how wide his eyes were. 'Your first celebrity crush was Jennifer Anniston, ok.'

'Correct. But if I knew you back then, it would've been you.'

'Thanks, babe.'

'Ok, so I feel like you got pretty much every one of them,' said Tom, tucking his cards away.

'I feel like I did too, how ready do you feel Tom?' you asked.

Teasingly, he leant over, showing his forehead. 'See that? not a sweat. I've got this. Gimme some.'

'What are my dogs names?' you ask.

'Your oldest one is Padfoot, your youngest, the puppy dog is Moony.'

'Correct. Easy one. Ok, next, what is my favourite city?'

Tom's face dropped. 'That got harder so much quicker.'

'What? I thought this was easy.'

'Yea but it's between two. London or New York.'

'Well you've got them. I'd say right now it's New York though. Just because you're there,' you say jokingly.

'We're such a good couple.'

'The best. Lightning round. Favourite food?'

'Pizza.'

'Yes, favourite taylor swift album?'

'Folklore.'

'Easy. What is my favourite bag?'

Tom paused. 'It's a tote, your tote. Is it your waterstones one?'

Sadly, you shake your head. 'To be fair it's a new one i've got, it's my 'I heart new york one.'

Tom groaned. 'Of course it is, how did I not get that? I was literally with you when you brough it.'

'I have it with me today.'

'You do! oh my god, quickly move on before I get annoyed at myself.'

'Oh ok,' you grin down at the question and then pull a face, wondering yourself.

Tom watches, laughs and puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it affectionately. 'Are you alright? what's going on?'

'No, sorry, i'm just thinking about how to word this,' you pause and then, almost as if you weren't aware you were doing it, you hold onto his hand and ask the question. 'What is my favourite thing that you wear?'

Tom's expression matches your puzzled one. 'That I wear?'

'Yes. And I want you to take your time, think about it because you know it. And if you don't get this, we might be over,' you tell him.

Tom's jaw drops and he leans back in his chair, thinking. 'Don't say that!'

'Ok, it was a joke, sorry. But you do know this.'

Tom looks down at himself, but it was a new shirt and there was nothing special about these pants. The shoes were nice but you'd never cared for shoes. He checked his rings. You liked rings and you especially liked his rings but that couldn't have been it. 'Oh!' he almost kicked himself for not getting it sooner. 'Is it my- is it the necklace? he asks, pulling it from under his shirt.

'Yes!' you cheer, throwing the card over your shoulder and reaching over to high five him.

'I've never been so stressed in my life,' he laughed.

'So the necklace-' you start to explain to the camera as tom holds it out proudly, showing every crew and every camera as you laugh and smile at him. Never had you felt so in love. 'The necklace he wears all the time is the initial from the first letter of my name, just like-'

'Just like the Taylor Swift song,' finishes Tom, knowing how much you love it. Even now, you're smiling with teary eyes.

You had not brough it for him, but on your first anniversary Tom surprised you with it. You cried, wept. It was the first time you felt truly seen.

'I think you should sing it,' prompted Tom.

'I'm not singing it!'

'Go on! I love your voice!'

'No!'

'For me?' he asked.

You roll your eyes but don't really sing the song, you more say it: 'I want to wear his initials on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me, but obviously, it's you wearing mine so...'

'Thank you for watching our couples quiz!' Tom waves to the camera.

'All in all I think we're couple goals, yea?' you check.

'Oh, absolutely!'

And the show was all done, with you two waving. But the camera's didn't turn off quick enough to catch how Tom held your hand and kissed the inside of your palm.

Yea, absolutely in love.

#coriolanus snow #the hunger games #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction #coryo #tom blyth x you #fame dr #tom blyth x yn

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loveindefinitely · 4 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I have nothing else to live for.”

It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.

Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.

In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.

“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”

You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.

“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.

“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”

“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“...And I had to kill some of my men.”

It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.

You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.

But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.

“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.

“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.

Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.

“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments.

Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.

“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”

You might choke him.

Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?

Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself.

“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.

You let out a slow, loud breath.

Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.

“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet.

Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him.

“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.

With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”

Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?

Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.

“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”

Soap laughs.

You get out and slam the door in his face.

“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.

Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.

“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”

Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”

Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”

“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.

“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.

You both shut up immediately.

With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.

The thought is an immediately terrifying one.

“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.

Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.

Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.

“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses.

“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.

A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”

Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.

“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.

“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.

“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”

Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.

You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.

“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”

“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”

Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.

The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.

“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.

“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.

You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”

It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.

“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”

“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”

Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.

“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”

“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”

“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”

It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.

However.

First things first.

“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.

Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.

“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.

Of whom you’d given everything.

Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.

“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.

“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.

Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”

“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.

“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”

“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.

If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.

You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.

By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.

“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”

“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.

Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.

Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”

The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.

“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.

Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”

Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”

To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.

“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.

“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”

With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.

When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.

While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.

Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.

Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.

“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”

“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.

You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”

“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.

The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.

“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.

“Comin’ your way.”

Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.

“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.

“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.

“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.

Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team.

Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.

“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.

With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.

“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”

Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”

All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.

A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.

Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.

You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”

This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.

“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.

Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.

You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”

Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.

The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.

With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.

As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.

“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.

The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”

Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”

“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men.

Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”

“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.

“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”

You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.

Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”

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frannyzooey · 5 months

Text

Short Days, Long Nights: 16

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: Mature (some explicit mentions, tense situations, mentions of child starvation)

A/N: this chapter wouldn’t exist without @the-scandalorian and @bageldaddy , period. Literally walking me through it line by line, I could say a lot of really gushy things about them but I’ll refrain…just know, you two, that I could kiss you directly on the mouth. And will, when we meet someday. ❤️

—

A blanket hung to keep her in the shade, the sound of June’s babbling lifts into the air to join the soft give of roots snapping beneath the soil as you pull carrots from the garden. The distant splintering of dried out boards giving way occasionally cracks through the background, Joel grabbing another piece of rotted wood at the base of the shed and tearing it clean off, tossing it over with the rest he’s collected.

Brushing a drip of sweat away from your temple with your dirt-dried hand, you make a face at the gritty path you’ve left behind.

“You wanna go for a swim?” you coo over at June, her cheeks plumping into a corresponding wet grin when you smile at her.

Her bottom teeth coming in, drool pools around the carrot she’s gumming and slides down over her chubby grip, the edge of it glistening in her mouth.

You make faces at her, her dark eyes fixed on your face in bright delight until her attention catches something behind you, and you turn when she starts to crawl towards it.

“How are my girls doing?”

His shirt ringed with sweat and molded to his body, Joel blocks out the sun when you look up at him. His hand rakes through his dark curls, pushing the wet strands away from his forehead as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, the pulse in his throat thrumming fast under his flushed skin. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he lifts it to swipe it over his face and your eyes flash down, where even his torso looks wet: the dark hair that collects in a swirl around his belly button to lead down matted and damp.

He watches with amusement as June crawls over to his boot with unsteady movements, her face set with determination.

“Hey, baby girl.” His tiredness transforms into something softer when he greets her, his eyes crinkling deeply around the edges. A dimple catching under his beard, he bends to scoop her up from the ground, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I think I got enough over there to do somethin’ with. Definitely enough to board up that broken window in her room this afternoon.”

The glass broke while you were cleaning it: old age and the elements and a warped frame all contributing, and with the mosquitos being thick at night, she’d been sleeping in your room for the time being.

“I can fix that shelf in the pantry with one of ‘em,” he continues, “and if anything else, save the rest for burnin’ in the winter.”

A rotted shelf in the pantry breaking in half, the chair in the living room finally losing a leg, an area of the deck now off limits: exposed to the elements and after withstanding years of neglect, the cabin was having trouble standing up to the constant wear of its new inhabitants. Joel had been fixing things as they happened, but with a limited supply of resources, the plan to stay infinitely that you both made months ago was starting to fray.

The garden was going better than you could have expected, but the rest…the rest worried you. Running out of material to cut up and make do with, June’s clothing situation was beyond scarce. With the repetitive washing that everything had to stand up against, it was always fast to fall apart. Lucky that it was summer and so hot that she didn’t really need much, you had started to piece together things for the winter but there was only so much thread you could pull out of things, only so much you could fix and repurpose.

Joel felt the pinch too, in his own way. Voicing his frustration, he’d tell you how he would repair things if only he had the right materials, recounting to you the actual issue and the thought process behind fixing it. Even reminiscing about the hardware store days of past, he’d mentioned more than once the one right by his house that he liked to visit, the one with free popcorn for Sarah while he browsed.

With every item that broke and with every growth milestone that June reached, you could feel the encroaching pressure to make a choice: leave this place for the dangerous unknown, or stay and attempt to survive the dangers of isolation.

Either was a gamble, and so undecided, you kept fixing what you could, with what you had.

You eye the shed, your eyebrow lifting as you study the now sizable hole in the side.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how we don’t really need the shed for anything, so if we need more wood, we can just chop the whole thing down. Right?”

You stand and he nods, using his forearm to swipe at more sweat that’s gathered along his hairline. Streaks of dirt and dust are smeared along the bare skin, and when June reaches out to grab at his face, he catches her hand and gives it a kiss.

You admire them for a moment: the taut muscle in his forearm underneath her bottom, the collection of gray hairs gathered at the edge of his jaw that she grabs at, his wayward curls that match her own. They smile at each other, her face diving into his chest just above the collar of his shirt, and he laughs, gently tickling her back.

When he catches you watching him, you think you’d see a faint blush creep over his cheeks if they weren’t flushed from the heat already.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you smile, turning to lead them down to the water.

You’re still smiling as he lays her out on the bank to get her undressed, watching his thick fingers brush against her cheeks just to chuckle at the way she chases them with an open mouth. Standing up with a soft groan, he strips down to his underwear.

Bare chested and tanned in front of you, his body is formidable without his clothing. Marred with the scars of survival and so familiar to you by now, he appears even bigger in comparison when he lifts June up. His large hand completely covers her dimpled bottom as they prepare to wade in, and his back facing you, your eyes run appreciatively down the broad slope.

Feeling your gaze, he smirks, and a glimmer of the confident, teasing Joel that’s been coaxed out of hiding peeks from beneath the surface. “See somethin’ you like?”

“There is something about when you hold her,” you admit. “You look so…big and strong.”

Rising on your tiptoes, you tuck your face into his neck to hide from the slight embarrassment you feel. Finding his sweat salt skin with your mouth, you give him a kiss and he hums in appreciation, the vibration of it felt against your lips when you give him another one.

“You really like it, huh.” More a smug statement than a question, his expression matches his tone when you pull back to look at him.

“I do,” you murmur, nosing along the edge of his jaw. “It makes me wanna have all your babies.”

Drunk on the heat of the afternoon sun and on your affection for him, you smile lazily up at him and he grins right back, winding his arm around your waist to keep you close.

“S’that right,” he murmurs, low and gravely. His voice slips through you and your pulse picks up, his humid breath ghosting across your lips. “All of ‘em, huh?”

You nod, and with hooded eyes, he grins.

“Don’t jinx us now, honey. Can’t be sayin’ that kinda stuff.”

His dark eyes make a slow, heated circuit down to your collarbones and back up, and arousal hooks behind your belly button fast and sharp.

Dragging his gaze from you, he turns his attention to June. “Besides, I think this squirrely girl is all we can handle right now, anyway.”

His shoulders swathed in sunlight, Joel wades in as you strip to join them. The water is crisp and cool against your skin when you slip in, and you submerge yourself for a moment before resurfacing closer to them.

Joel holds June around her back as he lets her float on the surface, water from her kicking legs flying up to cover his bare chest.

“You gonna be a swimmer? You gonna be a fish, baby?”

It’s easy to forget that the outside world exists when there is nothing but bird song and cicadas and the rippling water around you. No infection, no death, no fight for survival. Just Joel carefully scooping water to pour over June’s head, his soothing voice telling her to hold her breath as he ducks them under the surface, his practiced movements carefully transferring her into a one armed hold when you swim closer.

Tilting your chin up, you offer your wet mouth to him for a kiss.

His body is firm and warm against yours, your hand reaching to cup the curve of his jaw to deepen the press of your mouths together and the kiss pulls you in just like the current that wraps and molds your body close to his. Slipping your arms around his neck, you savor his taste until June lets out a soft cry.

Her wet fist rubbing at her eye, you reach to take her in for her afternoon nap. Emerging from the water, you feel the awakened heat in his gaze trained on your body all the way up to the cabin.

June is fast asleep in your room when he lays you out on the bed in the room next door, squeezing your bodies together on the twin-sized narrowness. His broad shoulders flex and shift under your knees, his river damp curls sliding through your hold as he licks you open, and when you arch into the wet heat of his mouth with a silent cry, he swallows everything you give him with a rumbled groan.

His skin is dry and smooth against yours when he fits his solid body between your legs, reaching down to guide himself into a place reserved just for him with slick, filling stretch and he murmurs his secret wants directly into your skin, a push inside you for each one.

“Wish you could have all my babies. Make you the prettiest momma.”

He breathes against the valley of your breasts, into the hollow under your ear, and against your mouth, just before he captures it with a kiss. His words dripping with reverence, you keen underneath him, arching your back to force him deeper.

“I wish I could too,” you softly moan. “I want it.”

Blatant hunger slips into his movements, harsh, filling punches of his hips bringing you up and over the edge, and your mouths stay together in a humid press until you feel him come, his need spilling thick along the inside of your thigh.

Afterwards, his sated body relaxes on top of yours.

Your fingers collect his curls in a rhythmic, soothing motion, following the timing of your chest rising and falling beneath his cheek. His breath puffs across your skin, and your eyes flutter shut, the heat of the afternoon lulling you to sleep.

Twitching lightly in his sleep, his hold on you tightens and the corner of your mouth lifts. His weighted body covering yours like a shield, a gentle breeze stirs the stagnant air around you, and a tendril of a thought slips through your sleepy mind.

Heaven.

–

Your fingers dance along the produce in the pantry, your lips moving silently as you keep count in your head. More food than you could have ever dreamed of when you first broached the plan, the produce now crowds out the canned goods, and shifting in your crouch, you let the sun into the small space, narrowing your eyes in focus.

The back door to the cabin bangs open, startling you, and June launches into a responding cry seconds later, just as Joel rounds the doorway. Before you can stand, he hooks his hand around your elbow, tugging you up.

“Go to the bedroom. Now.”

“What –”

“Someone’s comin’. I heard 'em’ in the woods. A couple of ‘em at least.”

Stomach bottoming out in immediate panic, you scramble up and head to your bedroom, scooping up June along the way. Bouncing her lightly in your arms to quell her cries, a cold sweat breaks out along your back, and crossing the hallway, you head for the predetermined snug spot in the corner next to the dresser, grabbing your gun from the top drawer.

“You stay until I tell you it’s safe, okay? Don’t move from this spot. You got your gun? It loaded?”

The serious, frantic edge to his words has you answering him immediately, your back pressing against the wall as you slide down into place. Giving you both one last look to ensure you’re where you need to be, he rounds the corner and disappears from sight, and you have to fight the lurch your body involuntarily makes in an effort to follow him.

You’ve practiced for this exact scenario multiple times, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. During practice, there is no cold terror at what could happen. During practice, it was easy to go through every movement with calm motions.

Now, you try to inhale deep, steady breaths in an attempt to slow down the pounding of your heart, knowing June will sense your unease.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay. I know, I know. It’s okay.” Your voice comes out low and smooth, your shaking hand betraying your nerves as it rubs circles over her back.

Straining to hear over her hiccuping whimpers, you try to listen outside the bedroom.

Nothing, for what seems like ages, and then:

“STOP.”

Flinching when Joel’s voice breaks through, you shut your eyes tight, reflexively tightening your hold on June’s small body.

–

“Put your hands up.”

A lone woman emerging from the tree line halts mid step, reluctantly pulling her hand away from the pistol at her hip.

Weathered and weary looking, she looks almost frail in her slight build and Joel scans her for any more visible weapons. His own gun gripped tight with the butt of it against his shoulder, he slowly advances, his finger resting alongside the trigger.

“What do you want?”

“I was just passing by and I saw your cabin,” she calls out. “Thought I might see if anyone was home.”

“Bullshit. You can’t see this place from the road.”

A beat of weighted silence fills the grassy space between them, and the woman changes her story.

“Fine. We –”

“We? How many?”

Her eyebrow lifts, along with the corner of her mouth. Avoiding the question, she continues. “We saw your garden. Thought maybe we would help ourselves. Especially now, since it’s just you out here.” Direct and laced with the barest taunt, her tone implies the easy confidence of someone who has the upperhand.

Reluctantly shifting his gaze from her, he scans the trees, searching. A branch cracks somewhere within the woods, something shifting in the distance, and when he steps in the direction of it, she brings his attention back to her.

“It looked like you have enough to share.”

“We don’t.”

An instinctual reaction tied to his days as a raider, Joel’s mind digs deep for the old lines he used to say. Lie about your numbers. Lie.

“Don’t think about tryin’ anything’ either,” he asserts. “Heard you the second you walked onto this land. We got eyes on you from all sides.”

She lets her head fall to the side, frowning in skepticism. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

She takes a step forward, and Joel’s heart pounds in his chest, his face outwardly calm as his finger shifts to rest over the trigger.

“You got enough ammo to kill us all?” She tests the waters, taking another small step forward, but when Joel trains the barrel of his gun on her and presses forward, she stops.

“Listen.” Her face steels, hardening. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You can let us take what we need and we’ll leave after that, or we can kill you and then take what we need. Your choice.”

His jaw ticks, anger rising in his chest. “You’re not takin’ a goddamn thing. Get the fuck out of here before –”

A faint cry pierces the air, and he freezes, the woman doing the same. Joel’s body goes rigid at the sound of June’s cry, the woman’s eyes widening, and she peers over his shoulder at the cabin.

June’s cries stutter for a moment before picking up in volume, and he pictures the exact face he knows she’s making. He knows that cry: an upset one that won’t settle any time soon. His heart lurches, an instinctual pull flooding through him to leave and soothe her.

He pulls up straight instead, adjusting his aim square at the woman’s face.

Her hands quickly raise higher, this time facing outwards in supplication. “Look, I didn’t know.” Gesturing towards the woods, her tone softens. “We have kids too. The food is for them.”

Before Joel can move, a horse emerges from between the trees. And then another, then another. Trying to keep them all in his sight, the group collects in the area in front of him; June’s cries growing louder in their pitch from inside the cabin.

“Please,” one of the riders says. A woman, with a small child seated in front of her in the saddle. “If you have anything –”

“I already said we don’t.”

The coldness in his statement dies as his eyes focus on the kid’s face. While the rest of the group has their eyes on Joel, the child isn’t paying attention to him and his gun. Their eyes are solely fixed around the back of the cabin and have been since they emerged from the woods. On the garden, just beyond.

“Please,” the rider begs one more time, quieter this time. “Please. We’ll take anything.”

Joel’s eyes linger on the kid’s slight frame, on the sunken rings underneath their eyes. Their face looks haunted, as if resigned to their hunger, and scolding himself for even wavering this long, he’s still thinking when the group's collective gaze shifts to something behind him.

A door opening, then closing.

Hearing the crunch of footsteps behind him, he sighs deeply, frustration evident in his disappointed tone.

“Go back inside.”

–

June quieted and left in the cabin, he burns next to you when you come to join him.

“I heard everything through the window,” you explain. “I figured if you haven’t shot by now, it would be safe to come out.”

A tension thrumming between your bodies in the air, you ignore the heat of his scolding stare.

“Kids, Joel.” The word is spoken to him like a plea, and his jaw ticks before you take a look at the group for yourself.

The first people you’ve seen in over a year.

Worse for the wear with the sallow features of the starved, they look less…intimidating than you expected them to be. None of them have that shifty, hardened edge that you’d come to recognize in the QZ, nor the menacing, cruel stare of the people you’d met on the road before. They don’t look like how you imagine the other intruder looked either, the one you still see in your nightmares sometimes.

Instead, they just look…tired. Hungry. The children seem dirty, but cared for. The mothers protect them in their slouched hold, the men remaining frozen under Joel’s command to stay still, his gun trained on the woman closest to him.

You picture the garden you heard them ask for: the basket of carrots still sitting in the sun, the squash vines spilling over the fence. You know they could kill you right here on the spot - but they don’t. They could have come in with guns drawn because you know they have them, but Instead they wait, trying to protect their kids.

“I’m not gonna say it again, honey,” Joel seethes, measured and low. “Go back inside.”

“We’ll trade you.”

A voice comes from a woman, clearly the leader of the group with the way they all keep glancing her way in silent deference, waiting. For someone staring down the barrel of a gun, she appears calm, her expression a practiced blank slate. Her age hard to determine due to the dust covering her skin, her voice is clear and measured, like she’s used to negotiating.

“You don’t look like you have anythin’ to trade,” Joel replies coolly.

Thinking of your dwindling supplies outside of food, you rest your hand on his arm. “What’ve you got?”

“What do you need?” she replies.

Joel’s head tilts in warning, his feet shifting to further solidify his stance. “Answer her question.”

Her eyes run down the length of you, taking in your measure for a moment. “Got some liquor if you want it.” She gestures towards a saddle bag with a tilt of her chin, but Joel is already shaking his head.

“Already got some.”

She quirks her eyebrow up. “Fine. Some medicine?”

“What kind?” you ask.

“Painkillers. Ibuprofen. Tylenol. Might help with –”

“Already got some of that too,” he cuts her off.

Sighing, the woman appears to think. Glancing at a man to the left of her, they have a silent conversation for a moment before she looks over at the garden. Staring at it for a moment, she brings her eyes back to you.

“What about a horse?”

Joel’s jaw tightens in distrust. “Like you’re just gonna give us a horse. How much food do you think you’re gonna get from us?”

She shrugs, ignoring his anger to focus directly on you. “It’s yours, if you give us enough food for all of us. Not just the kids. Respectfully, it looks like you have plenty. Certainly enough for two people and a baby.”

The assumption in her tone and the challenge in mentioning your true numbers makes Joel bristle, but the woman doesn’t back down. If anything, she straightens taller, rising to his unspoken challenge.

Tough and firm, she waits.

Leaning towards him, you lower your voice so only he can hear it. “I can give them some of the –”

He cuts you off with an immediate glare. “We need that food. You know it.”

“Yea, but we don’t need all of it. We have some to spare.”

He stares at you in stern, silent disagreement, and you continue. “I was just in the pantry. We can’t eat it all, Joel. I know what’s in there. Trust me. Those kids need to eat. They can have those carrots that I just picked, and –”

His eyes flit quickly back and forth between the group and your face, not wanting to keep his attention from them for too long.

“It’s a horse, Joel. A horse.”

He narrows his eyes at you, a war within them. You know he knows the value of what they are offering. Eventually, he relents.

“We ain’t givin’ up our fresh stuff. If we have anything – anything - it’s gonna be the old stuff.”

Thinking of the sallow child in the saddle, you silently challenge him, but he stays resolute in his expression.

“Fine,” you back down. “The old stuff.”

“Some of the old stuff. Not all of it.”

In agreement, you face the group again.

“Don’t move,” Joel instructs. Flicking his head in the direction of the cabin, he motions to you. “She can get you some things, and then you need to be on your way.”

“What about the horse?” the woman asks. “One of us has to move if you want it. Where should we tie it up?”

He thinks for a moment, keeping his gun trained on her. Picking a spot a ways away from the cabin, he jerks his chin towards it.

“Leave ‘em over there.”

–

Two faded floral pillowcases in your grip filled with what you could spare, you approach the group with careful and cautious steps, Joel taking a couple of slow strides to the left to keep you in his sights.

“Are you okay?” the woman murmurs quietly when you reach her, glancing at Joel.

Looking at her up close, there is a softness to her that you couldn’t see from far away. Her skin is weathered but still youthful, her long brown hair tied in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and you recognize concern held in her gaze.

You frown, not understanding.

“That man there,” she tilts her chin at Joel. “He seems like a hard one. Is he keeping you here?”

Right when you’re about to defend him, June cries again, making her displeasure at being left alone again known.

Leveling you with a look, the woman repeats herself, this time more direct. “I mean it. Are you okay? Do you need us to help you?”

The implication is all over her face: a hard, threatening man all alone in the woods with a young woman. Holding her captive, forcing himself on her. A grim reality you’d seen plenty of times before, you understand her concern. Still, your response is a cool one, protective in your own right. “I’m fine. He’s just protecting us, like you’re doing with your own people.”

She studies your face for the truth. “He hasn’t hurt you or the baby, has he?”

“Of course not.” You understand her questioning, you do. Softening the edge to your response, you add, “He’s - he’s mine. We’re together. That’s our daughter crying.”

Her body language seems to relax along with her frown and she nods. Taking the sacks from you, she turns to pack them into the saddle bag of the horse next to her.

“Must have been scary, giving birth out here all alone.”

You huff, a small smile at the edge of your lips to disguise the way the memory makes you swallow hard. “Yea, it wasn’t ideal. We were lucky.”

“I helped her do the same a couple months ago.” The woman tilts her chin at another woman in the back of the group, and for the first time, you notice a small bundle wrapped tight to her chest. Hidden, protected from the elements. “You heal okay?”

“It was…rough, but I’m good now.”

Seeming satisfied in her questioning, she digs around in the pouch for a moment. Fishing out a jar, she hands it to you.

“I’m not sure how old your daughter is, but…here. Just in case you need it.”

A bottle of infant Tylenol being pressed into your hand, you look up to ask if she’s sure, but she cuts you off.

“Listen. We’re headed West. Towards Ja –”

“Jackson?” you interrupt, and her eyebrows raise. Joel’s impatience radiating from his position behind you, you ignore it. “Someone came by a couple of months ago and tried to take what we had. Joel took care of it. We found the map in his pocket.”

She smirks. “So he’s real protective of you then.”

“Is it real? Jackson?”

Unsure if you should be prolonging this conversation or even informing them you know the way they’re going, you can’t help the question spilling from your mouth. Curiosity pulled at you for months after you found that map, the destination now even more intriguing after seeing children in the saddle.

“Far as we know,” she replies, stuffing the bags away. “We heard from someone that it's safe. Safer than a QZ, though that doesn’t say much. They’re trying to keep it quiet, so they aren’t overrun with people, but…” her eyes flick towards the cabin. “It’s supposed to be off the grid. A place for families.”

Joel grits out your name behind you, and keeping the children in the forefront of your mind, you rush to say goodbye, giving her a warning.

“You can’t stay in the area or he will shoot you. I promise you, he will.” Clear and direct with your words, you think you see something of understanding laced with respect cross her features. Before you can stop yourself, you add in haste, “There is another cabin about two miles from here though. We’ve been in it, and it’s clean and safe for you all to stay the night. You can eat, get some rest.”

Her shrewd gaze takes you in for a moment, and you squeeze the medicine held in your grip, praying you won’t come to regret what you just said.

The edge of her mouth lifts in a small smile, and you let out a breath just as Joel says your name again, this time in a stern clip.

“Tess,” she says. Acknowledging the way Joel just told her your name, she offers her own. “My name is Tess. And thank you.”

The two of you coming to a silent understanding, you take a step back as she swings up onto the horse next to her, joining a rider already in the saddle. Motioning to the group with her hand, they all start to move.

“Thanks,” she says to Joel as she passes, but he stays silent.

Leveling her with a frown, he keeps his gun trained on her until they disappear into the trees.

–

Backing into the cabin to ensure it stays clear, Joel only lowers his weapon after the door is closed. You follow him cautiously into the bedroom, waiting for him to erupt.

You can tell he wants to, a tight bundle of anger set between his shoulder blades. His body is stiff as he picks June up to make sure she’s okay, and all the while, he keeps his back to you, as if trying to stay calm in her presence.

Her safety confirmed, he hands her to you before stalking back out to head straight for the traps and even after checking those, he stays on the front porch with his rifle, waiting.

Busying yourself with calming June down and eventually feeding her dinner, his anger with you weighs heavily in the space. Peeking every so often at his stern profile through the window, you put June to bed for the night, avoiding him as long as possible.

Afraid of the disappointment you’ll see on his face, you linger by June’s cradle long after she falls asleep, questioning your decisions over and over again in your mind.

In the end, you keep coming back to her milk cheeked profile as she sleeps.

The clothes you piece together for her. The lack of medicine should she get sick. The even worse situation she’d be in if either of you did. The people that came by today, the conflict that was avoided because they were reasonable.

You were right to give those children food. You know you were. If that had been June in the saddle, you would have done anything to get her food — including making a promise not to come back, especially knowing another child was depending on that source for their survival.

It required belief in people instead of immediate distrust, and though you couldn’t explain how you knew, you just knew they could be trusted.

Leaving her to join him on the porch, you’re expecting a calmer discussion with the hours that have passed, but he is still angry. Angrier than you’ve seen him in a long time.

Part nervous, part sorry, and part wanting to defend yourself, you tuck your arms around your torso and step outside to where his profile greets you.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just let them go, Joel. I couldn’t not give them anything. They were starving.”

He says nothing, keeping his eyes resolutely on the woods in front of him.

“Please come inside. They aren’t coming back.”

He faces you, his voice cutting. “And how do you know that, huh?”

You swallow hard, bracing yourself. “I told them about the other cabins. I told them they could stay the night there and get some rest if they needed – “

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His eyes flash in the darkness, his expression twisted with frustration. “We don’ want them to stay close. They need to move on, so we know they aren’t comin’ back for what we have.”

“They aren’t.”

“You think just because they said so, they won’t? You can’t just trust what people tell you. I know it’s been awhile, but I thought you woulda remembered that.”

Hurt cuts through you at his dismissive tone. This version of Joel is one you haven’t seen in a long time, a shadow of the man he was before he met you and it hurts, to be back where you were. To have him look at you the way he is. Blinking back tears, regret starts to seep into your mind, but you fight against it.

You know he’s just protecting his own, and you are one of those people. His.

“The woman said they are headed to Jackson.”

At the mention of the town, he looks back at you.

“Did you see the kids with them? One of the riders had a baby, around the same size as June. That woman – Tess? She helped deliver it.”

Chastened, he looks down at the ground at your mention of that time.

“They wouldn’t start trouble with that many kids around. I know it.”

“They gotta feed them kids, don’t they?” He delivers his statement bluntly, looking up to hold eye contact with you. Weariness rings his eyes, his tone no less scolding for it. “You know just as much as I do that you would do anything for June. Anything. Including lyin’ to someone just to turn around and steal what they have.”

The truth in his words hangs heavy in the air between the two of you, and you press on.

“I gave them ample food. They have no reason to come back. I even put some meat in there –”

At this, he stands, outraged. His jaw ticks as he glares at you for a long moment, eventually letting out a huff of disbelief.

“Hell, why not some ammo too?”

Shaking his head, he glances away.

Disappointment pours off his body, his back to you and a tear slips down over your cheek. All the words you practiced saying to him die on your tongue, every good point turning to ash under the heat of his anger. You understand his worry because it’s also your own worry, but…the way the woman looked at you, the way those women held their children, the hope held in the woman’s eyes as she talked about Jackson?

They weren’t coming back. You knew they weren’t.

You’d thought he’d at least be happy about the horse, but the thought of another mouth to feed keeps your own closed.

Sitting back down, he flexes his hold on his rifle, resting it across his lap. His eyes won’t meet yours.

“I’m gonna stay up and keep watch. Just in case they do decide to come back. You should just…go to bed.”

All of the fight sucked out of you, you nod at his dismissal and turn, going back inside.

–

His disappointment in you eats at him.

Flares bright as he sits up all night, waiting for their shadowy figures to reappear. Simmers as he hears you soothe June back to sleep after feeding her. Lingers with a fade in his chest as the sun lightens the horizon, inky black turning into pinkish dawn.

He knows you saw those children and gave without hesitation, thinking of June. He knows that. But he’s also thinking of June. Always. Equal parts impressed and frustrated by the hope that still exists inside you even after you’ve seen what the outside world is still capable of, he doesn’t know how you can still trust. You still give; you’re still kind.

He appreciates those qualities in you, but to give away your rations and to take a gamble on them not coming back is more than letting your hope win. It’s dangerous, and he wishes you could see that.

He knows now that this will happen again. Clearly a route marked on that map, it’ll be used in the coming months by other people. The fact that they could see your garden was bad enough, but the fact that it was a group of people was even worse.

He can defend you against one man, but a group? There are limits to his skills; he knows more than anyone.

You can’t stay here anymore.

He fights against the knowledge, the memory of Sarah now woven in with the surroundings. So much more than a place for the three of you to stay hidden from the world, he sees it as a place where the four of you thrived: the ghost of Sarah visiting him freely here, as a welcomed presence. Finally not something he pushed to the darkest, safest corners of his mind as a means to keep her memory away from what the world turned into.

Even in death, he protected her.

He knows she’ll follow him wherever he goes, but that doesn’t solve the problem of wanting to be the father he’s got the chance to be with June as he is here — not as who he’d have to be, if you left.

His palm running along the smooth barrel of the gun, he stares into the dark woods and keeps watch, his weary eyes ringed with the need for sleep.

Jackson.

Responsible for your safety and well being, does he take the gamble and bring you there? Does he find another spot hidden deeper in the woods, hoping that one won’t be discovered? One requires faith in the words of other people, the other requires faith only in his own skills. After everything he’s seen and done, he knows which way he wants to lean…but still, he thinks.

Acknowledging the strength in numbers that you’ve been missing this whole time, a group encountering this place was a liability, but to be part of a group - that was a strength. Resources to help if June should get sick, other people around to take care of her if either of you should. Clothes, shoes, a shelter that isn’t slowing falling apart.

Those were just the basics of human necessity, but other things worm their way into his mind. The things not needed to live, but needed to thrive. Socialization, a community. An image of Sarah on the soccer field projects against the dark field in front of him; all grin and bright eyes at sleepovers, running around the park he used to bring her to when she wanted to play with her friends.

Any QZ that he’s been in was never the suburb full of children that he raised Sarah in, but at least there were other kids. Other people. A means to provide more than what you could, here. And with Jackson being a place being off the grid…there was a possibility it was better than a QZ. The world-worn cynic in him knew it was a long shot, but still.

He pictures your shadowed face in the darkness, as you argued with him. The earnestness in your eyes, the words you used to try to make him understand your reasoning behind trusting them. He was too mad then to listen, but now…he understands why.

Not only your belief in those people, but your belief in general. Understands that you’ve always needed to believe in something, in order for any of this to work.

“No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

He said that to you in bed one night, speaking of you and June, and he thinks about how you’ve always believed it in the same thing your own way: your something to fight for was a future still possible.

One that you’ve shown him to be true.

Rising stiff limbed from his position on the porch, it’s almost light when he wanders back into the silent cabin.

He tries to be quiet in the kitchen as he digs through the drawer for the map, and finding it, places it on the counter.

Making his way to the bedroom, he crawls into the space behind your curved spine and tucks himself around it, holding you close.

In your sleep, you reach for him and grasping your hand in his, he fits the bridge of his nose into the soft nape of your neck and closes his eyes.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

678 notes · View notes

reidsdaisies · 6 months

Note

hey bb can i req a cute first date with spencer at a coffee shop or bakery or whatever but he’s jus super fucking nervous and shows up 30 mins early and bouncing his leg and stutter and almost piss himself (not really but you get the gist)

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐬

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; nervous!spencer x kind of sunshine fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ warnings; first date jitters, mentions of food, i think that’s it.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.7k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; congrats on being my first req! (as if i didn’t quite literally beg u) i wrote this and then realized you probably meant you wanted to see him actually be nervous during the date but i worked too hard to let this go to waste. hope u can forgive me for that bae 😥

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

If you were to ask Spencer Reid to provide you with a detailed summarization of the whole Star Trek series, his eyes would light up and he’d get lost in his long rambles about scientific fact this and scientific fact that.

But if you were to ask him proper first date etiquette, he'd freeze up and look around awkwardly for a way to escape the conversation.

Or, in short, he knows nothing about first dates. He’s never been on a date. With anyone. Ever.

That's why he's currently pacing down a short length of the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for the sign giving him the go ahead to cross the street.

He would never be in this predicament if you, the peppy girl with a permanent smile seemingly plastered to her face, hadn't been bold enough to strike up a random conversation and ask his awkward, nerdy self out on a date to a new bakery that you informed him just opened up.

"If you're free Sunday, I'd love for you to come try their beignets with me! I've heard they're to die for."

The way you had initially proposed the offer made it seem so casual, until once he agreed, you followed it up with another, more clearly labeled exclamation.

“Sounds like we’ve got a date!"

Truth be told, he’d never particularly liked beignets all that much, but when the offer was served to him so graciously, he couldn't deny. No one can blame him. Who would have denied that beautiful, bright, contagious smile? Definitely not Spencer.

Once his hand is pulling open the bakery's door, he knows there's no going back. Not that he's a quitter, but he is unbelievably—or maybe pretty believably, we are still talking about Spencer here—nervous.

With a quick glance at his watch, he realizes just how much he overestimated the amount of time it'd take him to walk here. He's not just on time, he's a whole 26 minutes early.

Not near early enough to beat his record, but still very early compared to the advice Garcia had given him about showing up “fashionably late”, as she put it.

This only adds to his stress. Being alone, in a part of the city he's never been before, waiting for a girl who might not even be on her way yet. Yeah, he's cracking.

Spencer’s fingers tighten around the bouquet in his hands, flowers all picked out for the same reason—they reminded him exactly of the perfume you had on during your first meeting.

In attempt to calm himself down and get some fresh air, he slowly backs out of the bakery, the bell chiming, gaining a confused look from one of the workers.

Before he even has a sliver of a second to be embarrassed, his phone buzzes, a text asking if he’s on his way yet appearing on screen.

Taking a quick look around, his eyes landing on you standing in front of the bakery with your back to the window, dressed in a casual floral dress with a long coat over top, your hair blowing around you in the breeze as you look down at your phone.

He’d never thought he’d be so grateful for another person being just as overly punctual as him, you saving him from a half hour of sitting alone in silence.

“I-,” Spencer clears his throat. “I’m here!” He walks over to you hesitantly.

The first thing you notice when you look up from your phone is his fists clenched right around the base of a colorful bouquet, stems crushed from his deadly grip.

“Hey, Spencer!” You greet the man, wrapping him up in a tight hug. When you pull away, he’s looking down at you, eyes sparkling but jaw still slightly trembling.

“These flowers, they’re for you.” His voice is slightly timid, his eyes set on the pavement as he holds the bouquet out expectantly.

Your expression softens when he struggles to get his words out, but you treat him no different, accepting the flowers gratefully.

“A whole bouquet? You’re the sweetest, Spence!” Another bright smile takes over your face, throwing your arms over his shoulders, bringing him in for yet another hug.

He’s stiff for a moment before he realizes you’re not going anywhere, and you’re giving no clear signs as to you not wanting him there, so with a slight confidence boost, he lets his arm slowly slither down to your waist, holding you flush against him.

“Let’s uhm, let’s get those beignets.”

This time when you pull away, instead of letting the anxiety get to him, he’s smiling along with you, ready to follow your lead into the bakery.

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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circeyoru · 1 month

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What if there's a side story of Collection Of Overlords where the hotel crew accidentally made Bambi, specifically from Unwanted Soul HAHAHA

Like, another of one Charlie's random activities that they wanted to know Alastor more, and they kept bugging him so Alastor just thought about telling them about his voodoo stuff

And the Charlie wanted him to show them, and Alastor hesitantly accepted, but then some like, loud crash or something interrupted Alastor's spell that made..

Our little Cursed Cat! Bambi!

HAHAHAH

Everyone was stunned, and Alastor literally panicked when he realized Bambi took a run towards Collector/Reader's room

Cat's are liquid, so Bambi slipped right under the crack of the door making Alastor have a heart attack 😭

But once Alastor slammed the door open and was about to protest, Collector/Reader had already picked up the cursed cat and is petting it

"MY LIEGE-"

"hmm? Oh Alastor, did you know about this adorable kitty? You two resemble alot"

3am thoughts.. THEYRE EATING ME UP

OH OH!!! Cursed Cat Alastor strikes again!! This series' first Cursed Cat Alastor appearance!!!

I'm pretty sure a lot of people already know Alastor's Reader's/your favourite Elite in your collection. Plus Alastor's actively keeping it only belonging to him. And what happens when Cursed Cat Alastor comes along? Well...

In this story, I don't think Alastor's willing to share his power without cause or a good reason, cause you play a role in his vast abilities, so he's not gonna show them off like that. He's trying to mimic your mysteriousness. So in this ask, (1) Alastor's not gonna join Charlie's activities when you're in the hotel, (2) Alastor won't let Charlie learn much of him as he believes you're the only one that should know -cause you own his soul so him too-, and (3) Alastor's not gonna entertain Charlie like that.

So how does Curse Cat Alastor appear?

Let's say, Alastor was performing his duties. He's testing some powers you lend him in order to reconstruct his room to what it was before (remember half of his room was a literal swamp? yeah, that) and then some new features to prove he can handle things. Then Charlie and Vaggie suddenly burst into his room unannounced and he messed up.

Poof! Cursed Cat Alastor is here!!

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Charlie tried apologizing so many times "We didn't knock cause it was urgent." Vaggie somewhat lied They didn't catch the red creature that run through them and out of Alastor's room Alastor sighed, a bit annoyed but kept his composure, "What is it that you need, Charlie?" Vaggie watched the cat run, "Huh, it's going to that guest's room. You know, that one that actually paid."

Remember how it was with Alastor and your powers combined? Yee, Cursed Cat Alastor is literally built to locate you. Not only that, but it shares the same affection Alastor would to you. So? Competition!

Alastor panics and immediately runs after it, he can't risk using his powers cause he didn't want to mess anything up.

Meanwhile, you're in the library, looking through a number of books that float around you. As usual, your eyes remained closed. You sat in a chair without anything near you apart from the floating opened books. Your concentration broken when you heard scratching sounds directly below you. You paused in your reading and leaned over to see what was making that noise.

"Hello, you."

You heard the static meow from the cat that weirdly resembles Alastor way too much. You weren't aware of any hell version of a cat being red or having that kind of smile, not to mention owning and wearing a mini monocle.

"Aren't you cute?"

You reached to pick it up slowly, to test and see if it would claw at you or express defense. If it was a cat, then they don't like to be touched too much. Truly reminds you of Alastor. You noticed it shaking a bit and turned it to the side to see its tail wagging happily and excitedly.

You carefully placed it on your lap, letting it make itself comfortable. It purred loudly with static effects when you started patting its head, then moving down its back. You hummed along and smiled. When you asked if it could understand you, it nodded and purred, its head nudging into your stomach.

"Any owner?"

It hissed loudly, but then its ears drooped down and bowed its head down as if apologizing for its rude actions.

Your smile widened, got to love its personality and the resemblance it had with Alastor. So... "Let's forget your old owner, now, you follow me."

It meowed loudly, sitting at attention as if sensing what you're about to do.

Your fingers snapped and a black collar appeared, "Let's name you Red, you're fur was the first thing I noticed, you see."

The collar was inscribed with the bolded and capitalized name 'RED' with a wave of your finger and placed around its neck. Red purred and hugged you in gratitude.

"My Liege!" The doors burst opened and in rushed Alastor who looked like he fought krakens barehanded. His eyes glared down at Red who was in your wonderful hold. "I apologize for troubling your reading time, but I'll be removing this... thing that has taken up your space."

"Oh, no need. This is my new pet, Red. Red, say hello to Alastor."

Red hissed at Alastor and leaned closer to you.

Alastor emitted deafening static at the creature with his head tilted to the side.

You smile, "Aww, you two are getting aloud already~"

The characters are from {Collection of Overlords} here, you can check it out in MASTERLIST for the works

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bippiti · 2 months

Text

505 cl16

where you reminisce on your first love

wc 3k

an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3

(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)

i'm going back to 505

you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.

you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.

while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-

you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh

you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.

wow. he was pretty. really pretty

you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.

"i'm so sorry again"

"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing

he has nice laugh

"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out

"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands

then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.

"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.

"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"

you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"

he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"

you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class

if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.

you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.

"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.

you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.

when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.

after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.

before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.

after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.

“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”

“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”

“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”

“really?”

“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”

with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.

you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.

“it's really good”

you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.

looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.

“you did so good, i love your painting style”

he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.

not shy of a spark

you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair

“charles talks about you a lot, you know”

“does he really” you said with a laugh

“he does, i think he likes you dear”

that shut you up, she smiled warmly

“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”

you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows

the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

I'm going back to 505

you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.

you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.

your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.

he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.

pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.

he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.

you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.

"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"

you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.

you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.

soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.

you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.

you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak

"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"

you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.

he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.

you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed

"are we really about to do this right now"

"yeah, i think we are"

you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.

soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,

'i've never done this before"

he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you

"neither have i"

you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?

he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up

"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"

you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.

"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly

"was it really?

"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting

you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.

“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.

he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.

you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.

he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this

but I crumble completely when you cry

it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.

it hurt. he hurt.

it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.

you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.

you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.

you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.

his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down

“i’ve been seeing someone else”

“i see”

at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.

he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.

you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.

you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.

never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again

i’m going back to 505

you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.

building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.

the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you

you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas

you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though

one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles

charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.

you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.

none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #scudia ferrari #charles leclerc x yn #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

Text

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

#I need a tag for my weird dreams #they happen infrequently but when they do they’re always bangers #long post #literal fever dream #thanks delayed reaction to the Covid shot…

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thethingsweneversaid · 9 months

Text

Am I crazy or did I just crack the mystery of the monologue scene????

Why did they lose against Vecna in season 4? What were they missing?

They lost the race against time. Time was obviously significant this season (The grandfather clock, Vecna's obsession with time, the UD being frozen in time). The time was simply up, they were too late. Who’s to blame? Mike Wheeler.

Okay, let me explain, haha.

Throughout the whole series we all know Mike being late, or almost late to things is recurring. Every season in fact. S1: Mike’s campaign was too long, and he tried to get the party to stay past their curfew. S2: Mike was trying to get in contact with El on his walkie, almost making him late to the arcade. S3: Mike was almost late to the cinema because he was with El, making them almost miss the beginning of the movie. S4: Mike was reading El’s letter, almost making him and Nancy late for school... He begins every season with a race against time. Also worth noting that El was the reason for him being late in s2, s3 and s4. Also ALSO worth noting that in season 1, Mike begs his parents to let the party stay longer. The campaign took two weeks to plan! They need to finish it. He has no rush. While in all the other seasons (when he was late because of El), we get a "Shit! Shit! I'm going to be late"-version of Mike. He's stressed out and rushed. Not sure where I'm going with this last point, but I'm sure it means something and that it'll make sense in s5. The point is, Mike gets distracted by El.

Now for the monologue. This time, it's not Mike getting distracted by El. It's him distracting El.

Jason was obviously a key reason for them being too late as well. The scenes switch between Lucas fighting him and Mike’s monologue, comparing the two. Jason destroys Max’s walkman, destroying her connection to Lucas and the world outside her mind. Mike tries to get El to wake up by lifting her out of the freezer, taking off her glasses, Will shoves the radio away. They’re trying to get her out of Max’s mind and into the real world again. But El doesn't want to wake up. She is ready to fight for Max. The boys obviously tried to help because who knows what would’ve happened if they didn’t? They thought El was dying. When Mike begins his monologue, El looked away from Max and up “towards Mike’s voice”. She was listening to him now. Getting distracted. El continuously tells people throughout the series to be quiet when going into her “trance”. People talking distracts her, and she needs to concentrate. Mike also reminds the audience of the importance of the sensory deprivation tank. "It helps her calm down and focus on her powers". With Mike removing all the aids that help her concentrate (the glasses, the tank, the radio), while also talking to her, we can only assume that now, El isn’t only fighting to save Max, but also to stay in Max’s mind, further slowing her down.

At the end of the monologue, Mike reminds her she has to fight, and El’s eyes snap back to Max. That’s when she breaks loose from the vines. Whether you think El believes what Mike is saying and utilizes his loving words for strength or not, it’s still a distraction. I’ve seen a lot of people say that they felt impatient while watching this scene. Like «get on with it! Vecna is literally killing Max RIGHT NOW». And we're probably right to feel impatient! That's probably what the writers were going for! The audience was supposed to feel like that. El lost valuable time because of it. Mike is making them late this time too.

Will is also kinda to blame in this (I don't blame any of them, it's just an unfortunate set of events and they all did what they thought was best, but you get what I mean) Because in a way, Mike is distracted too. Distracted from the truth. That happened when Will lied to him in the van, disguising his own feelings for Mike, using El as a distraction for Mike to focus on instead. Will's guiding Mike towards a lie. He convinced Mike that El was feeling a certain way, which she WAS NOT. (For example: "You make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all, like she’s better for being different." cue Mike and El’s fight where she accuses him of thinking she’s a monster too, like everyone else.) (This also contrasts Will singling Mike out as the only person that doesn't treat him differently in season 2 in that scene with Will and Jonathan.) Mike doesn’t make El feel the way Will portrayed it in the van, though Mike is led to believe that she does.

Therefore, making the feelings that was the foundation for the monologue a lie. Both to Mike and El. It isn’t authentic. This doesn't apply to them. which brings me to my next point.

"A paladin swears to uphold justice and righteousness, to stand with the good things of the world against the encroaching darkness, and to hunt the forces of evil wherever they lurk. Different paladins focus on various aspects of the cause of righteousness (honesty=righteousness and honor for Mike), but all are bound by the oaths (promises, “friends don’t lie”) that grant them power to do their sacred work. Oaths, honor, and rigid rules define a paladin's everyday actions. Breaking these oaths (by lying) means their deity will revoke their powers."

This is why his monologue didn’t work. It was a lie (And Mike knowingly or unknowingly portrayed that lie to El). Without his honesty, Mike the paladin loses his powers. He couldn’t save them.

Will’s selfless attempt to save their relationship sadly turned out to be counter-productive in every way, hindering all of them from seeing the truth. Will was also the one that told Mike not to stop, when in reality, maybe stopping and letting El be was exactly what he should've done. He's the heart. But he's Will's heart. That's what Will would've wanted Mike to do, seeing as Mike has saved him/snapped him out of his episodes multiple times by speaking to him: Of course Will thinks that's the right thing to do! Mike's doing what Will would've needed, not El.

It adds a new layer to El being upset with Mike in the cabin by the end of s4, because it isn't as simple as "she knows Mike is lying" or "She's just upset because they lost". She's upset because once again Mike doesn't trust that she knows her own limits (This being a huge reason for conflict in s3 between El/Mike/Max.) Mike worries because he cares of course, but it isn't what El needs ("Mike, I need you to trust me.") When Mike tries to help her, she fails. But she "redeems herself" when she's making her own decision, without outside influences other than love for her friends. She pushes her limits further than ever before, bringing Max back to life, trusting herself and her powers, without Mike knowing.

Mike is the heart, yes. The problem was - the heart was in the wrong place. They all got it wrong this time. They got confused and misunderstood each other. That’s why they lost. In the next season, I believe Mike and El are going to realize that they’ve both been focusing on the wrong things, and that is how they’re going to win. Still using love as their weapon - just a different kind of love that’s not distracting them from what they really need, not slowing them down. El coming fully into her own, reaching her full potential and using her powers the way she knows best, with the support of her loved ones making her stronger - not under the influence of Mike trying to stop her out of worry. And Mike’s heart being in the right place. With Will.

I've seen other people talk about this next part, but I'm adding it in because it further proves the point.

Another indication that proves to me that at least SOME of the monologue is a blatant lie is the Romeo and Juliet parallel, with the word "Montague" spelled out behind Mike, and the "love at first sight"-refrence. "I knew right then and there, in that moment, that I loved you." That. is. a. lie. and there's just no going around it. Romeo and Juliet's romance wasn't actually real love, just infatuation. The Duffers also said they don't believe in love at first sight. For them to use that trope wouldn't just be wierd and cliché, but also contradicts everything we were shown in season 1. Are we just supposed to believe that Mike loved her, decpite them showing us otherwise?

More on the Romeo and Juliet thing in this post.

Conclusion: The Duffers are geniuses I’m never getting over this show.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler analysis #stranger things theory #s5 predictions #stranger things 5 #stranger things 4 #st analysis #byler endgame #byler proof #byler theory

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Chapter 7: School's Out For Summer

Summary: Even though it's your first day of summer vacation, you're up early with a very worthwhile way to wake Javi up before he goes into work. While you enjoy your first day of freedom after the school year has ended, Javi runs in to trouble at the Peña ranch that could prevent him from seeing you.

Word Count: 9.1K (This was another one that was supposed to only be one chapter, but if I didn't break it up this chapter would have been 20K words long, yikes)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better that these two), oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, teasing (if you squint), mentions of food/eating (Javi being the hungriest man alive), allusions to some tense family dynamics, Javi in a suit AND Javi being a hot sweaty man working on the Peña ranch, Chucho being the GOAT once again, Javi and reader being so head over heels for each other it makes me sick (literally because I wrote the majority of this while I had COVID)

A/N: I seriously cannot tell you how much it means to me that so many of you have liked, reblogged, commented, and are invested in this story 🥺 UGH, thank you so much! Okay, anyways, Osita (reader) was supposed to meet Chucho and visit the ranch this chapter, but these two idiots are so in love that I blinked and I was almost at 10K words writing about how cute they are.

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Sunlight spilled through the crack of your window’s curtains. No matter how hard you tried, you had always been terrible at sleeping in. As a kid, you were always the first one up, never wanting to miss out on whatever was going on. As an adult, sleeping in made you feel like you were missing out on things that were more important than sleep. Today, you had woken up this morning excited, almost giddy over the broad figure in your bed next to you. Javi’s muscular arms outstretched over his head, sheets covering his waist, his stomach pressed into the bed, brown curls messy and untamed from his slumber. While it wasn’t the first time you had slept in the same bed together, it was the first time you had woken up next to him, taking in all of his beautiful features as he snored softly into his pillow. Javi had told you not to worry about waking up before he went into work, but there were two things you did know for sure- First, you absolutely were going to, not wanting to miss out on a single moment spent with him, and second, you wanted to wake him up in a way you had a feeling both of you would very much enjoy.

Nestling in closer to him, Javi, half asleep, turned over on his side, reaching his arm around you and pulling you in tighter. Laying chest to chest, you ran your fingertips up and down his arms, making your way up to his head, gently running your hands through his thick locks. You kissed his chest as Javi began rubbing his hands along your back, slowly becoming more conscious, waking from his slumber.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You whispered playfully over Javi’s tired grumbles.

“Good morning.” His voice still low and raspy from sleep. “It’s early baby, you don’t have to be up, I’m the one that has to go into work, remember?”

“I know. But I wanted to make sure I was up when you were.” You said, slowly kissing your way up his neck and around his jaw. “Wanted to make sure that I could say good morning properly since I didn’t get to the last time you slept over.” Your kisses now making their way back down his body, your hand sliding down his bare chest. You could already feel him half hard against your leg as he turned over on his back, shifting you to straddle his lap. Leaning over him, you kissed around the V of his stomach, your hands running up and down his thighs, getting closer and closer to cock.

“Fuck, baby.” He horsley whispered, tilting his head back against the pillow. You planted kisses up his length before wrapping your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly, you lowered your mouth down around the rest of him, hollowing out your cheeks, before pulling your head back up and letting your spit drip down onto his dick, pumping your hand along his length.

“You still mad that I didn’t sleep in?” Smirking at Javi’s blissed out face, his jaw hanging open as he tilted his head up to look at you.

“Fuck, Hermosa, I-" A low moan cut off the end of his sentence as you lowered your head back down, hands wrapping around his base. Your head bobbed up and down, hands twisting over the parts your mouth couldn’t reach. You began to increase your pace, Javi gently grabbing your hair from the base of your head, slightly tugging it with each movement of your head, a mix of Spanish and English expletives flowing from his mouth.

“Baby, fuckkkk.” He groaned, his eyes fixated on you as he watched as you skillfully worked your way up and down his shaft, taking him deeper and deeper down your throat.

Fuck, did he taste good, but with his size, you needed to take your mouth off him for a moment, using your tongue to lick from his base to tip, your hands still rubbing up and down him. You did this a few more times, making him audibly whine. You now understood why Javi enjoyed getting you off so much, the high that you were riding knowing how good you were making him feel was unmatched.

“Osita, baby, fuck.” You could tell from the way his body was shifting under you, that he was desperate for your mouth to be back on him. With roles reversed, you felt it was only fair to tease him a little.

“What? Use your words, handsome.” You winked at him, only making him moan louder.

“Jesus Christ, dirty fuckin’ girl. Fuck baby, you suck my dick so fucking well. Wanna come in down your throat, fill you full of me.”

You bent back over him, your lips sucking over his tip before you released with a pop. “What’s the magic word, Javi?” You couldn’t lie, you were absolutely enjoying how Javi was absolutely melting under you.

“Please, baby.” He was practically panting at this point.

With that, you took him down your throat again, moving faster and sloppier with each stroke. You were so turned on, you could feel the slick between your thighs, rubbing them together to try and ease the ache between your legs. You looked up at him, wrecked as you sucked his length over and over.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, I’m almost there. God, you’re so fucking perfect sucking my dick like that, fuck me, I’m-“

You felt his release hit your tongue as he tugged tighter on your hair, groaning deeply as he came in your mouth. You felt his cock pulse, feeling his sweet and salty spend hit the back of your throat, as you waited for him to finish. Once you knew he was done, you slowly let him slip out of your mouth, swallowing his release, as the Adam’s Apple of his throat bobbed watching you.

“You awake now?” You giggled at Javi, his jaw still slack as his hands ran over his face.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Osita. Fuck me, you’re too fucking good at that.” His breath still heavy and shaky.

“Makes it easier when you’re sucking the world’s most gorgeous dick.” You smirked as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Come here.” He grabbed your hips and pulled you off of his lap back down next to him in the bed, peppering you with ticklish kisses across your body, making you giggle and squirm. You playfully swatted at him before he cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. “Couldn’t have asked for a better way to wake up.” He grinned at you. He ran his hands up and down your thigh, grazing their way closer and closer to your heat, already dripping from just a few minutes ago. “My turn now.” He winked as his hands gripped into the meat of your legs.

“No, I cannot be the reason you’re late for work, Agent Peña. Plus, I still need to make you breakfast, and you still need to shower. I’m allowed to get you off without needing anything in return.”

“Fuck that. I know something that I can eat for breakfast right now.”

“You are not making this any easier on me!” You jokingly shoved him. “You and I both know that if you don’t eat, the rumbling in your stomach is loud enough to set off seismic wave detectors for an earthquake, and while I am flattered by your offer, I don’t think my pussy has enough nutritional value to get you through lunch time without eating.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Fine. If I shower and eat fast enough and still have time, then can I take care of you?”

“Well as long as you’re not gonna give yourself a cramp from trying to eat too fast, then I’m not gonna say no. What do you want for breakfast? I have eggs, cereal, oatmeal, waffles-“

“Eggs would be great.”

“Perfect. Now go get your sexy butt in the shower so you can make good on your offer.” You pecked him on the lips as you shuffled yourself out of the covers. Still naked from the night before, you went over to your dresser to pull out a t-shirt to slip on, when you realized several unfamiliar items in your drawer.

“What’s this?” You said, trying to contain your smile as you held up a large, heather gray shirt with a worn Texas A&M logo in the upper right hand corner.

“I uh, I brought some shirts over for you to wear, um, if you want to. Figured they were probably more comfortable than my button down ones.” Javi ran his hand over the back of his neck, hoping putting some of his old shirts in your drawer last night after he brought up his bag wasn’t too forward.

You lifted up your arms to shimmy it over you, laughing as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror, drowning in his shirt. The soft, worn fabric and Javi’s scent hugged your body, a pink flush filling your cheeks as you turned back around to look at him. “Thank you. It is very comfy.” You bit down on your lip to try and not look like a total fool with how excited you were to have his shirts in your drawer.

Javi took a long exhale out, trying to keep his jaw from hanging open. It didn’t take long for him to recognize that seeing you in his clothes was one of his new favorite sights, especially when you first put them on after wearing nothing. “Of course. They look a lot better on you than they do on me anyways.”

“I find that hard to believe. Okay, ugh, stop being all cute and go shower so I can make you breakfast!” Javi threw the covers off him, stepping towards you and wrapping his hands around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you.

“Fine. I’ll shower fast, okay?” His sweet brown eyes had you melting like a popsicle on a hot day.

“Okay. I mean, take as much time as you need, but if you end up being fast enough, I’m not gonna be mad about it.” He freed a hand from around your waist to give you a quick smack on your ass before kissing you on the head and making his way into the bathroom. After you heard the door click shut behind him, you held your hands in your face, letting out a little silent squeal, your face grinning from ear to ear. Just when you thought you couldn’t have it worse for Javier Peña, he’d found a way to outdo himself again.

With Javi in the shower, you made your way to the kitchen, collecting all of your ingredients and starting a pot of coffee. While you waited for your pan to heat up, you headed over to the shelf under your TV, looking for music to put on while you cooked. Not finding any albums you liked, you shuffled through your CD mixes, pulling out one titled “Chill Out, Bear Cub” lovingly scribbled on the shiny surface of the disc by one of your brothers. Thankful for their love of music and computer new enough to make you mixes before you left Chicago, you put the CD into your stereo, turning up the volume just loud enough for you to hear in the kitchen. The CD started off Blackbird by the Beatles, you singing along softly as you began cracking the eggs into your pan and popping slices of bread into the toaster. You couldn’t hear the water in the shower turn off over the sound of breakfast sizzling and your voice singing along to the next song on the mix. As Javi opened the door, he peeked his head down the hallway, hearing the faint sound of music travel to the bathroom. Quickly running his towel over his damp curls and smiling to himself, Javi made his way back to the bedroom to change before joining you for breakfast.

With breakfast done and waiting for the two of you on the kitchen table, you took a few more swigs of your coffee as you began throwing your dishes into the sink to clean them as you waited for Javi. As the next track on the CD changed to Rocket Man by Elton John, you were lost in your own world, swaying your hips and beginning to scrub the remains of your breakfast off the pans and plates you were using. Your kitchen sink faced the wall with a small window above it, the sunlight beaming in through the glass. With your back to the hallway Javi was now walking down, you were completely oblivious to his presence behind you in the kitchen. Crossing his hands over his chest, he leaned into the wall across from you, taking in every inch of you. Your bare feet tapping on your worn kitchen mat, hips rocking back and forth under his shirt as you belted out the chorus of the song.

“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time, until touch down brings me ‘round again to find. I’m not the man they think I am at home, oh no, no, noooooo. I’m a rocket mannnnnn, burning out his fuse up here alone.”

Javi stood there silently, tears welling behind his eyes as he listened to you sing each word. For so long, Javi had come to accept he was just like the rocket man in the song. He was alone, unwilling to come to grips with the man he had become after he had returned home from Colombia. He was burnt out. Tired. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t the man everyone had made him out to be. And then, he met you. You brought him back down to earth, your warmth and kindness filling the empty space he so desperately craved. You wanted him for the man that he was. He wanted you forever, for you to always be the one who pulled him back into orbit. He wasn’t alone out in space anymore.

He quickly tried to wipe the tears from his eyes as he snuck up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your shoulder. You let out a little gasp and jumped, so distracted by your singing and cleaning, you hadn’t even heard Javi behind you. You felt your face turn blush, realizing you probably had gotten a little carried away with your singing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be that loud, probably was a little much.” You huffed as you leaned your head into Javi’s back.

“Not at all, Osita. I love hearing you sing. My mom used to sing around the house all the time. It was one of my favorite things to listen to as a kid. It makes me happy hearing you.” Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of his comparison. It made you so happy to know he was comfortable talking about his mom around you, knowing all too well how painful it could be to bring up memories of someone you had lost.

“I’m guessing your mom had a much better voice than I do. My guess is that she probably wasn’t serenading you with Elton John at 7:00 AM either.”

“You have a very pretty voice, but no, she did not. It is a good song, though.” He chuckled, giving you a squeeze.

You paused before letting the next sentence slip out of your mouth. “The song reminds me of my brother, Patrick.”

Javi had heard you talk about your other two brothers, Charlie and David but he had never heard you talk about Patrick. He could immediately sense the change in your demeanor compared to when you spoke about your other siblings.

Before he could ask anything else, you immediately shifted around to face him, easily changing topics based on Javi’s post-shower appearance.

“Well that isn’t very fair.” Your mouth agape at how ridiculously attractive Javi looked done up for work. He had on a dark gray suit with a white dress shirt underneath and a blue and yellow striped tie around his neck. The way his suit jacket stretched around his back and shoulders made you want to scream at how broad he looked. The scent of his sweet and spicy cologne was fresh, the smell dancing around your nose as you pulled yourself closer to him. You had just convinced Javi that he needed to go get ready for work, but with the way he looked, you were ready to undress him and make him late.

“What’s not fair, Osita?”

“That you are literally the most handsome man on the face of the Earth. Do you realize how hot you are? Like seriously. Wow. Well if you didn’t, then this is me telling you that you are fucking hot.”

He laughed as you gushed over him. “I don’t know about that, but thank you, hermosa.”

“How do you say my boyfriend is the most beautiful man in the whole world in Spanish?”

“Mi novio es el hombre mas guapo en el todo mundo.” He laughed.

“Perfect. Then mi novio es el hombre mas guapo in el todo mundo.” You reached up on your tiptoes to kiss him, pressing your hands against his chest. “Tús huevos are ready, mi novio guapo. You ready to eat?”

“You’re very sweet, Osita. Yes, I am.”

Even if Javi wasn’t on a mission to get you off before he left for work, you were convinced this man was the fastest eater you had ever met. From the way you had watched him eat every meal, including an impressive amount of popcorn, you would have thought every meal was the first he’d had in days.

“I’m not going to resuscitate you if you choke on your eggs from eating so fast. Have you even breathed once?” You laughed at Javi’s almost clear plate.

“Baby, those eggs were so good. You are a really good cook.”

“Well considering your practically clear plate, I kind of assumed they were okay. All I did was make breakfast. I can cook more than eggs and Mac and cheese, but I appreciate the compliment.” You smiled as you took a bite of your toast. “I packed you a lunch, too. You obviously don’t have to eat it if you don’t want it, but I figured I’d make you one, just in case.”

“I wake up to getting my dick sucked, you making me breakfast and packing my lunch? Jesus, I’m a fucking lucky man. Thank you, Osita.”

You blushed, taking a few more bites of your eggs as music softly played in the background, the sunrise now seeping through the windows of your apartment. Coffee in hand and plates picked clean, you couldn’t help but relish in the sweet and simple domesticity of the moment. Spending your morning together, eating breakfast, helping him get ready for work- all things that most people would consider mundane on a day to day basis, and truth be told, it was. And that’s what made it so beautiful. Something so ordinary was so perfect. Something deep inside you that made you yearn for a million more days of perfectly ordinary mornings with him.

“I could say the same. Do you need help with anything else before you go to work?” You leaned back against your chair.

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhhmm.”

“How much longer do you have until you have to leave?” You both smirked at each other.

“I don’t know, it depends.”

“Depends on what, Javi?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

Scootching back out of his spot and making his way around the table, he rested his arms on the back of your chair, hovering over your body. “Depends on how many times you want me to make you come before I go.”

He pulled you up to stand, your hands grasping at the lapels of his suit jacket as your mouths clashed together, moans escaping from both of your mouths. You walked your way over to your couch, your bodies intertwined with each other as Javi had you sit on the cushion as he knelt down in front of you. He slowly parted your legs, his hands running up and down them, revealing the slick pooling between your legs and covering your thighs from the lack of underwear you put on this morning. His fingers spread open your sex, collecting your arousal before tracing around your clit.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Everything about you. Fuck, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You moaned as he bent down, his face meeting your heat, taking a long, broad lick before his eyes met yours. “Such a good fucking girl for me. If I didn’t have to go into work, I swear to god, I’d spend all day in between your legs eating this sweet fucking pussy.”

You’d never met a man so willing to go down on you, let alone blow your fucking mind every time he did. Not that you were complaining.

He dipped his head back in, the width of his tongue pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, licking up and down your heat. Your bottom half squirmed, desperately craving his fingers inside you. You could feel the light huff of his laughter breath against your pussy, already reading you like a book, knowing exactly what you needed. He sunk one, then both fingers in, making you whimper as his mouth continued to suck and twirl against your clit. One of your hands gripped around the fabric of the couch, the other gripping the dark locks of Javi’s hair, tugging on the ends with each pulse of his fingers.

“Fuck Javi, you make me feel so good, holy shit.” You whined over the wet sounds of his sucking and fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. The way he curved up into you had your hips bucking into his face, making his free arm drape over your hips, pressing you back down into the couch. You could feel yourself begin to clench tighter and tighter around his hand, the feeling of him close to sending you over the edge. He popped his head up to smirk at your wrecked face, his digits speeding up their thrusts inside you.

“I know you’re close, hermosa. So tight around my fingers. Let go baby. Dámelo.” (Give it to me). His sweet brown eyes met yours before he dipped his head back down, sucking over your clit with intensity as you threw your head back, moaning in pleasure.

“Javi, Javi, fuck, oh my god. I’m gonna come, I’m gonnaahhhhh-“

You could feel yourself gush around his fingers as your orgasm ran through your body, making your legs shake and leaving you speechless. Javi slowed his pace as you came down from your release, shaking his head in satisfaction from your blissed out high. “My good girl. Always so fucking pretty when you come.” He cooed as he came up to kiss you, his face still covered in your slick. “You think you can give me another one before I go?”

You frantically nodded your head, breathing still labored. “Holy shit, yes.”

He let his fingers rest inside you a few more moments, feeling the clench of your cunt release around him. He began to kiss his way down your body, admiring how his shirt fell around your curves. He traveled further down your body before pausing for a moment, pulling out his fingers, you whimpering at the loss.

“Then you choose, baby. One more time with my mouth or one more time with my dick.”

“Fuck, Javi. I want you to put it in me, I want you to fuck me so bad.”

He leaned down to kiss you with a smirk. “I had a feeling, Osita. Turn around, baby.” With that, he helped to lift your hips, turning you around so your elbows were on the couch, ass in the air. As he stood behind you, he took his foot to slowly spread your legs a little wider, your pussy practically dripping at this point. Behind you, you heard the clinking of his belt buckle and the sound of his pants dropping around his ankles, followed by his low groan as he ran his length through your folds, collecting your slick. He slowly lined himself up with your entrance. “You ready for me, pretty girl?”

“Mmmhhmmm. Please baby, I need you so bad.” You whined.

With that, he slipped himself in you, taking a few seconds to let you adjust to him before bottoming out. The stretch of him inside you felt so sweet every time, like he was made to be in you. It didn’t take long for him to begin increasing his pace, his cock filling every inch of you so deliciously with each thrust. His fingertips dug into your hips, pulling you deeper on him with each stroke, while your fingers dug deeper into the fabric of the couch cushions.

Javi was shocked at himself to feel how close he already was to finishing. Was it the image of seeing you, bent over with his shirt draping down the sides of your body? The mental picture of you from earlier this morning, waking him up by giving him the best blowjob he’d ever had? The fact that you woke up early on your first day of summer vacation to make him breakfast and lunch and simply just to spend time with him? That you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and there was no one else he could ever imagine spending his mornings like this with if it wasn’t you? It was taking every ounce of strength for him to not bust right then and there.

“Touch yourself, Osita. Not gonna last much longer. So wet and tight for me baby, fuck. Feels so fucking good.” He gritted through his teeth, gripping tighter into your hips with each thrust.

Propping yourself up on one arm, the other reached between your legs, rubbing your clit as Javi continued to snap into you, hitting the sweet spot inside of you that had you closer and closer to your end. “Come on, hermosa. Gonna be a good girl and give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me?”

You were unable to answer as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your legs shaking as pleasure flowed through your body. The sounds of his name falling from your mouth as you came had him chasing his own end, each stroke becoming more frantic and loose.

“Come inside me Javi. Fuck, I want you to fill me up.” Your words barely coherent as you rode your pleasure filled high.

He was convinced those words would never get old. With only a few more pumps, Javi groaned as felt himself spill inside of you, his cock pulsing with his release. Breathing heavily, he slumped his body over yours before coming to. He pulled himself out of you, gasping at the emptiness, the mix of you and him trailing down your thighs. You could feel Javi’s fingers slide their way up your legs, collecting the slick before circling around your entrance and pushing the remains back into you and placing a kiss on one of your ass cheeks.

“Fuck, Osita. So fucking good, I swear I’ll never get over this.” He helped pull you up to stand before grabbing both sides of your face to pull you into a deep, long kiss.

“Eh, I don’t know, it’s fine, I guess, could take it or leave it.” You remarked sarcastically, laughing as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Pendejo.”

“I know what that one means, jerk.” You giggled. “You know you love it.” You tried to convince yourself you hadn’t used that word on purpose, but there was no use in lying to yourself.

He did love it. He loved all of it. All of you. His heart wanted to scream it, and his brain gripped on to those 4 letters so tightly to keep them from falling off his lips. The best he could do was to cup your face, tenderly kissing you, his lips lingering on yours for as long as they could.

“Fuck, I don’t want to go to work.”

“I don’t want you to either, but I don’t think your office accepts I’m not coming in today because I wanna hangout with my girlfriend as a valid excuse. And as much as I don’t want you to, they probably also want you to put your pants back on before going into the workplace.” You laughed at his slacks and boxers still draped over his ankles.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, pulling his pants back up, fastening the belt buckle and tucking in his shirt.

“Once I see you again this weekend, you can keep your pants off all you want and I won’t complain one bit.” You winked at him before giving him a peck on the lips and walking over to the kitchen to grab his lunch and hand it off to him.

“Thanks, Osita.”

“Of course. Have a good day at work today, okay? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” You both began to reluctantly make your way to the door.

“Me either. You have a good day too, enjoy your first day of summer break.”

“Oh believe me, I will. I am not jealous of you at all today.” You both laughed as you leaned up against your doorway, savoring every second before you said goodbye, trying to think of ways to get him to stay just a little longer. “Well... I know last time you were here I said there was a 3 kiss minimum to obtain your pants, there’s actually now a 4 kiss minimum to leave my apartment if I’m not going with you.”

“Oh really? Well in that case…” he reached his arm around your hip, pulling him close to his chest.

“One.” He kissed the top of your head

“Two.” He leaned down lower to kiss your cheek.

“Three.” Now even lower, he planted a long, wet kiss on your neck, a mix of moans and laughter as his mustache scratched beneath your chin.

“Four.” His lips meeting yours, his free hand now making its way behind your head to pull you in closer as you placed your hands on his chest, grasping at his tie.

“You know what, on second thought I don’t think your office will care if you show up today.” You whispered playfully, you both letting out small huffs of laughter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Bye Javi.”

“Bye Osita.” With one last peck on the lips, he twisted open the knob, opening the door and grabbing his lunch off the entryway shelf. As he made his way through the door, you watched as his broad figure strolled down your hallway, his shoulders stretching the width of his suit jacket. Before the door closed, you caught one last glimpse, Javi’s sweet brown eyes meeting yours as he had turned around to see you one last time. With a soft smile and wave, the door came to a close, followed by a soft click of your lock. Although you couldn’t say it out loud, you knew that you wanted every morning for the rest of your life to start just like this.

As Javi pulled up to the Sheriff’s Department, Queen still playing in the background from last night’s music choice, he let out a deep sigh before twisting the keys in his ignition, turning off his truck’s engine. Looking over at his passenger seat, he wished you were there, sitting next to him, smiling, hair blowing in the wind while you sang along to whatever song was on the radio. Instead, he’d have to settle for the brown paper lunch bag sitting in your place, still making him grin as he read the front labeled “Javi :)”. Gathering the rest of his things from his car, Javi strutted into the office, pace slightly quickened realizing he was close to 20 minutes late from his normal arrival time. He would have loved nothing more than to quietly slip past his co-workers with a few polite smiles, uninterrupted as he went to work at his desk for the day. Knowing the two buffoons stationed right outside his doorway, he braced himself for the inevitable, coming to grips with the fact the latter thought was definitely not a choice.

“Heyyyy, look Carter, there he is!” Detective Miller grinned leaning back in his chair, slapping his partner on the shoulder to get his attention. “We were worried about you, Peña. Thought the date went so well you tried to play hooky today.” The two snickered at each other.

Javi fucking wished he had.

“Soooooo… How’d it go?” Carter pried, his voice sweet and sing-songy.

Javi sighed, resting his hand on his hip. He didn’t want to give into their antics, but figured it was easier than facing their questioning the rest of the day. “It went really well.”

“That’s all you're gonna give us?” Miller whined, desperate for more information. “C’mon man, you gotta give us at least a little more than that.”

“We went to dinner and a movie. Saw that new dinosaur one that just came out.”

“Oh shit, was it good? I’ve been wanting to see that one, all my buddies said that-”

“Carter, you idiot. We’re not here to learn about the fucking dinosaur movie.” Miller groaned, shaking his head. “Where’d you go out to eat?”

Fuck, Javi knew they were going to love this.

“We were supposed to go to Andiamaos on Main.” He huffed, hoping the two in front of him would miss the first part of his sentence.

“Damn, Peña, that place is nice! Wait. Whadda mean, supposed to?” Carter’s brow scrunched.

Running his hand over his face, more than embarrassed, Javi replied. “I fucked up and made reservations on the wrong day. Restaurant was booked so we ended up going out to eat at a diner close by.”

“She didn’t care?”

“No.”

“She wasn’t mad? Not even a little?”

Javi shook his head no, still shocked by the fact that you weren’t.

“Shit. She must really like you, Peña.” Miller smirked before peering to the side of his desk to see the crinkled paper lunch bag Javi was gripping. “You labeling your lunches now? Cute.” He joked, noticing the neat handwriting and smiley face written on the bag, clearly knowing Javi wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Fuck off, Miller.” Javi rolled his eyes before making his way towards his office. “Report better be on Morris’s desk before I go talk to him this morning.” He remarked, not even turning his head as he shut the door behind him.

“Fuck me.” Miller whispered under his breath, scrambling to gather handfuls of papers and shoving them in a manilla folder.

“Wait, why was Peña labeling his lunch?” Carter asked, oblivious to Miller’s sarcastic jab.

“He didn’t write it, his girl did, dumbass. Now help me finish this report and get it on Morris’s desk before Peña finds out and has another reason to kick our teeth in.”

Despite the lack of Javi’s presence, you couldn’t have been more ready for your first day of summer break. After he had left, you had spent the morning doing some chores around the house, making a shopping list for some errands you had to run, and taking a long, very hot shower, not having to worry about accommodating Javi’s temperature preferences. As you got ready for the day, you sorted through the other t-shirts Javi had left behind for you in your drawer, including a navy blue one with a yellow DEA logo imprinted on the corner, an army green one, and another Texas A&M one, this one maroon with white block letters printed across the front. You slid on the red shirt, the soft cotton shimmying down your skin as you inhaled the sweet scent of him left behind on the fabric. You matched the shirt with a pair of denim shorts, throwing your hair up into a clip before heading out the door.

One of your favorite perks of being on break was being able to run your errands on weekdays, not having to fight the crowd of usual weekend shoppers. You were able to avoid a long line at the post office to wrap and mail your niece Olivia’s birthday gift, stop at Macy’s to make some returns you had been putting off, as well as buying two extra sets of sheets to keep in your now frequently washed rotation, and finish your grocery shopping in a practically empty store. You laughed to yourself as you walked through the produce section, hoping that Javi would get a kick out of the bag of baby carrots you had purposely packed for his lunch, knowing just how much he hated them.

As hard as it was for you to sit around and do nothing, after unpacking your groceries and letting yourself sit down on the couch, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to let yourself have one day of lounging and watching TV guilt free to celebrate the start of your summer. Curling up in your favorite blanket, nestled yourself into the couch to watch the start of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, a first day of summer tradition your mom had started for you and your brothers as kids after she had read the book to you. A melancholy feeling flooded over you as the opening credits began to play. While it hadn’t been the first time you had watched the movie without your brothers, it was the first time you had watched it, halfway across the country, thousands of miles away from your family. You loved Texas. You were happy with your move, and didn’t regret your decision. Yet, there was still a twinge of sadness every time you thought of Chicago, missing your family and regretting the terms you had left on before you packed up your things and drove about as far away as you physically could.

Sure, you had left Chicago because of Paul. He was an asshole. He broke your heart and couldn’t have given a shit about it. But the cheating felt like nothing compared to how he handled what happened between you and your brother, Patrick. That- that was the real straw that broke the camel’s back. Patrick had been lingering in the back of your mind all day, especially after that stupid song came on your CD mix this morning. You hadn’t even wanted to bring him up to Javi, the words honestly had just slipped out of your mouth as Rocket Man played in the background. Patrick was the reason that stupid “Chicago” box sat in the corner of your living room, because you couldn’t bear to face the reality of what it meant to unpack it. It was also something you had no need to unpack on Javi any time in the near future, kicking yourself for even bringing him up this morning. You sniffled as you felt the tears well in your eyes, wishing right now, you could just forget. Wishing you could hug your parents and your brothers and tell them how much you missed them, tell them how sorry you were that when it mattered the most, you ran away. Wishing that Javi was there to wrap you in his arms and just let you cry, telling you that it would be okay, his presence grounding you back down to earth. But right now, those were all just wishes, and wishing wasn’t going to change anything.

For the sake of tradition, you let the film play in the background as you got up from the couch to find anything to distract yourself from letting a stupid movie about a chocolate bar completely ruin your night. Rummaging through the kitchen, you collected ingredients to bake chocolate chip cookies. Honestly more than anything you made them so you could eat spoonfuls of cookie dough as a substitute for dinner, but also because you had a very strong feeling given Javi’s appetite, he would definitely eat some when you saw him tomorrow. The baking made you feel a little better, smiling to yourself, thinking of how Javi would tell you he only wanted one cookie, to soon find the majority of them disappeared. After the movie had finished, you found some more joy in watching the Stanley Cup finals, even though it pained you to watch the Red Wings absolutely destroy the Flyers.

As the game came to an end and things had been cleaned up in the kitchen, you got yourself ready for bed, curling yourself into your comforter. The smell of Javi still lingered on your pillow as you nestled your face against it, desperately wishing his body was there, next to you. Slowly drifting off to sleep, you imagined being wrapped up against him, your back to his chest, arms draped around you, comforting you into a deep and peaceful slumber.

When Javi arrived home after work, he was a man on a mission. This weekend, he, his dad and some of the ranch hands on the farm needed to build a new fence before the Peña ranch obtained new lambs to add to their flock of sheep on Monday. As much as he would have loved to have gone right back to your apartment after work, he had promised his dad he would help with the task, knowing it was a big project on a tight schedule. Javi was no stranger to farm chores, and from the time he was very little, he had learned that work always came before play. As a kid, finishing a task quickly would have meant more time to ride his bike or play with toys, but now, he knew the sooner he finished, the sooner he saw you.

As soon as he was through the door, Javi was stripping himself of his suit and replacing it with his work clothes and shoving half a leftover cold taco into his mouth before heading out to the pasture to start moving the new fencing to its rightful position. Javi was so focused that he hadn’t even heard his dad sneak up behind him as he was moving one of the fencing posts.

“Someone’s excited to build a fence, huh Hijo?” Chucho chuckled at Javi’s pace hauling the wooden beams back and forth, watching him scramble to grasp the post he was holding before his dad had scared him.

“Jesus Christ, Pops, scared the shit out of me.” Javi breathed heavily before setting down the beam and wiping his brow, now covered in sweat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work so fast, Javier. Not even when you were un niñito (little boy) and I promised you el helado (ice cream) after we were done.” He laughed again to himself as Javi rolled his eyes, trying to fight off any impending embarrassment. “The sun is almost down, no use in trying to build a fence in the dark. I promise we’ll be done in enough time for you to see her again before the weekend is over.”

“Oh um, well, I, uh-” Javi stumbled over his words, flustered how he hadn’t even mentioned anything about you, and somehow his dad knew the exact reason for your late night project prep.

“It’s okay, Hijo. I remember being the same way when I first met your mamá. I’d finish chores so fast to see her, it made your Abuelo (grandfather) wish I had found a novia (girlfriend) sooner. Except for the one time I promised him I would fix a hole in one of the fences and didn’t so we could go on a date, and spent the next 3 days wrangling loose cows. I know I am not as exciting as her, but I am thankful you are around to help out your old man.” Chucho reached over to place a hand on Javi’s shoulder, softly smiling at him.

“Of course, Pops. Thanks.” Javi sheepishly grinned back at his father.

The next morning, Chucho was up before the sunrise, ready to make his mandatory cup of coffee before heading out for his morning rounds and starting up on his fencing project. The old man could have sworn he was still half asleep and dreaming when he went to turn on the coffee pot, because it was already hot and hissing with the sounds of the bitter brown liquids brewing inside. As he turned on the kitchen light, he noticed one of his bright yellow post-it notes stuck to the front of the machine.

Coffee’s ready if you want it. Animals are already fed, out in the field working on the fence.

-Javi

He smiled and shook his head at the note, as he poured himself a full mug, leaning against the kitchen counter. He tried to recall the times his son had ever been up so early voluntarily, let alone up before him, and that number was a big fat zero. But if there was one thing that Chucho knew about Javier, it was that if he wanted something, he would find a way to figure out how to get it. If Chucho Peña wasn’t sure before, he sure as hell was then. His son was head over heels in love with you.

Taking advantage of Javi’s early morning labor, Chucho cooked the pair some breakfast before meeting Javi out in the pasture, the red and orange sunrise slowly peeking over the lush green fields of the property. “Buenos días, early bird.” Chucho chuckled, handing an already very sweaty Javi a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Javi nodded as a thanks, out of breath and already tired from dragging the heavy wooden posts across the grass. “Off to early start this morning, eh mijo?” Javi raised his eyebrows with a small shake of his head as he funneled the breakfast into his mouth, quickly downing the food.

“Thanks, Pops.” He replied, mouth still chewing as he motioned at the now empty plate, passing it back over to his dad.

“De nada. I was worried if I didn’t bring food out to you, you wouldn’t have taken a break until you were done with the whole fence.”

“I was already up, figured I’d get started and do as much as I could.” Javi had more than his fair share of sleepless nights since returning home from Colombia, some being much more restless and painful than others. He was thankful that his early rising this morning was pure adrenaline, excitement even, of finishing this stupid fence as soon as possible to see you.

“Well, let me just finish some of this breakfast and I’ll get to work.”

Javi made sure the pair wasted no time on the task at hand, splitting up the duties to start building as quickly as possible. By the time the posts were positioned and ready to be set in the ground, the morning sun was already sweltering down, sweat dripping down Javi’s back as his shirt clung to his shoulders. Around 10:00 AM, the two paused on their progress, Chucho concerned that the rest of the ranch help hadn’t arrived, even though they were supposed to be there an hour and a half ago. Even though Javi had his cell phone on him, Chucho had refused to use it to call the tardy crew, claiming the technology was “too advanced” for him, no matter how many times Javi had explained it was just like using the house phone. As Chucho made his way back to the house to call, Javi allowed himself to sit down and rest in the grass, shaded by the tractor nearby, blocking the sunlight. As he closed his eyes, he could only picture you. Your sweet, soft smile, your delicious scent, the way your body felt so soft and gentle, intertwined with his. He couldn’t help but grin, thinking of how perfect you were in every way, desperate to see you again.

As he opened his eyes, he saw Chucho return with water and a dismayed look spread across his face. “Qué pasa? (What’s going on?)” Javi asked, concerned by his dad’s demeanor.

“Ricardo’s truck broke down on the highway. They can’t get someone out there to fix it for a few hours, he said at best, he and the boys won’t be here until 4 or 5 tonight.”

Fuck. Javi’s heart just about sank down to his stomach. With the 4 people they were waiting on in the truck, Javi had hoped the fence would be finished around the time they were now supposed to be arriving. With just him and his dad, there was no way they would be even close to half way done by then.

“Lo siento, mijo. (I’m sorry, son.) Any other time I wouldn’t care but this has to get done before the sheep come Monday.”

“No, it’s um, it’s fine.” Javi replied, trying to hide his disappointment. “Can I just, can I just call her and let her know I’m not gonna be able to see her tonight?”

“Of course, Javier. Take your time.”

“Thanks.” He took a few deep breaths as he tried to compose himself as his fingers punched the keys of his cell phone to dial your number, slowly pacing through the grass with each dial tone.

“Hi Javi!” Your sweet voice at least brought him a little relief from the shitty news he was about to deliver to you.

“Hi, Osita.”

“You guys are already done? That was fast!” The optimism in your voice only made it harder for Javi to spit out his next sentence.

“Well um, shit, um that’s actually why I called. A bunch of the guys who were supposed to help us are stuck on the highway because their truck broke down, probably won’t be here for at least a few more hours. It’s gonna take way longer than I thought, I probably won’t be able to see you tonight. I’m so sorry, Osita.”

“Oh.” You already could tell you were doing a terrible job at masking your disappointment. “No uh, no, it’s okay. I’m really sorry, that sucks. It’s okay Javi, not your fault, I totally understand.”

There was a long pause on the line as Javi ran his hands through his damp curls, trying to think of what to say. Before he could think of anything, you spoke again.

“What if I came over to help?”

“Wha- Come over to help? Osita, what do you mean?”

“You know, help. As in like, provide my time and labor to assist someone in need?”

“Yes, hermosa, I know what the definition of help is.” He let out a small huff before he continued. “Baby, I’m not gonna ask you to come over and help with this, shit’s heavy and it’s hot-” You cut him off before he could finish.

“Javi, I think you are constantly forgetting the fact that I am the youngest of 3 brothers and the daughter of a dad who refused to pay anyone to do anything around the house, because he had a small army of child laborers he could exploit for free. I didn’t get the free pass on any chores around the house just because I was the only girl. I’m sure there has to be something I can do to help. At the very least, let me bring you and your dad lunch while you’re working. Please.”

Javi thought for a moment. He already felt awful that he wasn’t going to be able to do whatever you had planned for tonight, let alone to have you drive all the way over here and bring him food.

“Osita, it’s okay, really-“

“Javier Jesús Peña. Please. Don’t think I won’t call Maria and ask for your address so I can at least bring you lunch, you know I will.” He laughed, known damn well you would.

“Fine. Thank you, Osita.”

“You’re welcome. I just have to get ready and make lunches and I should be over around noon. Does that work?” He could almost hear you grinning through the phone, knowing your persistence had won him over.

“Noon works great. You have something to write down directions on?”

“Yes sir. Whenever you’re ready.”

As Javi explained the route, Chucho looked over at his son with a growing curiosity, wondering why in the world his conversation to explain why he couldn’t see you tonight had now turned into a geography lesson of the greater Laredo area.

“Okay, easy enough, I think I got it.” You responded as you looked down over the directions you had scribbled in front of you.

“Okay. Listen, if you change your mind, don’t feel like you have to-”

“I will see you at noon, no ifs ands or buts. Well, no butts except for your cute one.” A grin stretched across his face as he listened to your giggle on the other end of the line. “And don’t tell me whatever it is you’re working on is too heavy, because you absolutely know I will find a way to pick it up just to prove a point.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see. I’ll see you soon. Thank you again.”

“Yeah, you will see. Of course. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

“Bye, Osita.”

As the line disconnected, he found Chucho smirking at the lovestruck look on Javi’s face, waiting for him to explain the conversation.

“I told her she didn’t have to, but she uh, she wanted to know if she could come over to bring us lunch. She offered to help with the fence too, but I’m obviously not gonna make her do that, but knowing how stubborn she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she figured out a way to do that too.”

“Sounds like she’s just about as stubborn as you, mijo.” Javi ran his hand over the back of his neck as he smirked at the green grass around his boots. “She really offered to bring us lunch? And to help?”

“Yeah, she did.” Javi shifted his gaze up to his dad, grin still on his face, cheeks pink and flushed. Chucho laughed and shook his head as he passed Javi, patting him on the shoulder as he mumbled to himself, just loud enough for Javi to hear.

“Dios la bendiga. Ella te ama, Javier.” (God bless her. She loves you, Javier.)

Javi stood quietly for a moment, smiling to himself. Javi hoped his dad was right, because he sure as hell loved you.

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theemporium · 7 months

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this is literally just a random wee blurb for the inexperienced!pornstar!steve x experienced!pornstar!reader series because i just wanted an excuse to write them🤠anyways! enjoy! feel free to send more concepts i can work on after smutober!

masterlist

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“You’re such a pretty beggar for me, Stevie,” you cooed, your words dripping with that sweet, condescending tone that always made him squirm.

His chest heaved. “I-I can’t—”

“You can. And you will.” There was no room for discussion. “Be a good boy for the camera. They wanna see my good boy come.”

Steve was almost embarrassed to admit to you his complete lack of experience when it came to toys. Well, to be honest, he lacked experience in more factors than you’d expect for a pornstar with his following, but the toys shocked you.

He wasn’t a complete idiot. He had watched other people use them on themselves. He had seen Eddie scroll through websites before purchasing them. Hell, Eddie had even shown Steve his collection a few times.

But it never occurred to Steve that he could use them too. He didn’t even really think it was a guy thing until Eddie. And then after that, he just didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t think people would have been interested.

A fact he would come to learn he was very, very wrong about.

You had introduced a whole new world to him. And his audience loved it. They loved watching him whine and whimper at the end of the bed whilst you fucked yourself. They loved watching you slowly work him open with plugs and all sorts that he never dared to consider using on himself. They loved watching you tie him up with fluffy handcuffs and place a blindfold over him as you teased him with the wax candles you had ordered from a website Eddie had recommended.

But he knew they would love this even more.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, his eyes glossy and wet with tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks, but you don’t think he had ever looked prettier. “I wanna be your good boy. Please let me be your good boy.”

His hands strained against the ropes tying him to the headboard as he watched you slowly crawl up the bed. He hated the distance you kept from him, from touching him like he so desperately wanted you too. He hated that instead of touching him, your fingers were wrapped around the little, black remote that had been the cause of all his pain and pleasure in the last forty minutes.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Steve,” you hummed, your eyes glancing down to his cock. He was hard—painfully hard—and his tip was red and swollen, leaking with need that only his release could give him. “Taking it all so well, baby, so fucking well.”

The buzz echoed through the bedroom, taunting and teasing him as your thumb hovered over the remote buttons. His hips bucked upwards as the buzzing suddenly increased, a choked out moan leaving his lips as he desperately sought his release.

“Please,” he cried out, his voice cracking as his big, brown eyes looked at you, pleading.

Your eyes glanced over to the camera set up in the corner of the room, standing proudly on the tripod with its red light blinking at you. You then turned to look down at the squirming boy beneath you, his abs softly clenching as he tried to fight the urge to buck his hips in the air aimlessly.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” You asked him simply.

His lips parted, eyes darting over your face.

“It’s not a trick question, pretty boy,” you murmured with a smile on your lips. “Do you think you deserve to come?”

He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your finger lightly traced along his jaw. “And where do you wanna come, baby?”

“Inside you,” he whimpered out, his head turning in a desperate attempt to seek out your touch a little longer. “Wanna fill you up. Please, let me fill you up. I’ve been so good, baby, so fucking good. Just wanna give you something too.”

You softly bit your lower lip, feeling the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. “Yeah, pretty boy? You gonna fill me up all nice and good?”

“So good,” he whined. “Not gonna let a single drop spill. Promise.”

“How can I say no to that?” You murmured as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his as your thumb pressed down on the remote once again. “Just a little longer and then maybe you’ll get what you want, pretty boy.”

“But—” He was cut off by his own desperate cry.

“You said you weren’t gonna waste a drop, pretty boy. So don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

#pornstar!steve #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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withloveajaxx · 2 years

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jealousy jealousy

𓂅 genre: diluc, xiao, childe, and kaeya x gn! reader fluff

𓂅 warnings: mentions of being tipsy + alcohol in kaeya's part

𓂅 summary: they return home late only to see you already cuddled up to your favorite stuffed toy. they're a bit upset to say the least.

𓂅 note: literally just random brainrot while i think about my series and try to bring myself to finish childe angst :"D kinda crack as well but eh i hopr you all enjoy!!

DILUC

after a long and rather tiresome shift at angel's share, diluc wants nothing more than to bask in the warmth of your embrace.

so when he sees a little stuffed toy taking his supposed place in your arms, he isn't exactly pleased.

as a sane, adult man, he knows the irritation he feels towards an inanimate object of all things, is completely irrational.

he knows it's just a hard night taking its toll on his mind and heart. but does he have the energy to care at the moment? no ^^

quietly, he makes his way over to you, trying not to make any commotion as he sits himself on the bed.

he carefully takes the stuffed animal out of your arms as to not wake you. but once it's safely out of your arms he tosses it carelessly on the other side of the bed.

he then slides himself under your arms, pressing gentle kisses on your face when he notices you begin to stir slightly, muttering his name in your half awoken state.

"yes, it's me, darling. i'm home," he announces softly, voice barely over a whisper. "go back to sleep. i'm here now."

a fond smile tugs onto the corners of his lips when you hum sleepily, tightening your arms around his neck to nuzzle yourself into his firey hair.

he tilts his head to place on last kiss on your jaw before his eyes flutter shut and he drifts off to sleep. when you wake up in the morning your poor stuffed toy is abandoned on the floor :(

XIAO

adepti don't usually sleep, so on normal nights, xiao opts to sit beside your bed until you wake up, watching over you protectively after his nightly duties of fighting demons.

however, exhaustion was weighing particularly heavy on him today, and the sight of you all snuggled up to a little toy irked him just a tad bit.

it's stupid. he knows that very well. but no matter how hard he tries, his irritation towards the inanimate object would not quell.

he wants to sneak under your arms. he tries to gather every bit of courage and selfishness within him to crawl beside you knowing there's a chance of you waking up, but he just can't.

however, he also cannot stand that, instead of him, an inanimate object is the subject of your affection.

so in the gentlest way possible, he tries to pry the toy away from your grasp, his arm freezing if you begin to stir.

he thanks the darkness for concealing the deep blush that paints his cheeks when you try to shake the sleep out of your eyes.

he fears that you can hear his heart loudly thumping against his chest, even moreso when you give him a dazed smile and take his hand that's still on your stuffed toy to intertwine it with your own.

he relaxes back in his seat when you drift back to sleep, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. the stuffed animal was still beside you but the your warm hand in his seemed to get rid of any trace of annoyance he had.

the next morning when you wake up, he has a small pout frown on his face as he tells you, "if you need something to be with you, or something to hold when you go to sleep just... call for me. it's never a bother."

CHILDE

it's often he comes home late due to fatui missions. and usually, your arms are always free for him to crawl into.

so when he sees the stuffed toy tightly encased in your arms, he immediately gets all pouty.

huffs quietly in faux irritation as he makes his way towards you.

despite the silly irritation that disturbs his heart, he takes a few moments to admire how peaceful and how absolutely adorable you look.

your cheek is smushed up against the toy's head as you continue on with your sleep and childe simply cannot find it in him to even pretend to be upset at you.

he is upset at the little stuffed animal though >:(( how dare they take your cuddles away from him? that's not happening. no way in hell.

pecks your cheek gently and ever so smoothly replaces himself with the plushie. when he's in your arms, he kisses the crown of your head mumbling a small "i'm home, love." into your hair.

when you respond to him with a soft "welcome home." he immediately feels his heart beat rapidly with adoration, a tender smile adorning his lips.

he has no shame hauling the poor little toy right off the bed before he nuzzles himself into your hair to sleep, fully knowing you were too dazed to scold him for it.

when you wake up the next morning, you'll see ajax narrowing his eyes, lips forming a petty pout as he spouts childish threats at the toy that is now on the floor. you'll have to playfully reassure him with tons of cuddles and kisses if you don't want him whining all day <33.

KAEYA

it's rare that kaeya comes home late. it only ever happens when he loses track of time hanging around with venti and rosaria at angel's share.

usually kaeya is a smooth and composed individual. but he is a tad bit tipsy tonight, so the sight of your arms draped over something that isn't him made him a bit competitive and petty <3

of course he knows the stuffed toy is a non-living object. but it's currently taking the spot he's supposed to be in so he's got a little problem <3

doesn't try taking the stuffed toy out of your grasp. instead, he sits by your side, stroking the stray pieces of hair out of your face.

he plants his lips on your forehead and lingers there for a few moments until you let out a small groan, a sign you were waking up. "i'm back angel," he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. "now who might this little fellow be? i believe he's taken my place beside you," he teases affectionately.

you're too tired to verbally respond, not even processing his question. but when you realize it's kaeya beside you and you tilt your head up to peck his lips in greeting, you can feel him smile briefly against your lips.

he scoots down to envelope you in his embrace, a hand running up your arm in a gentle manner to coax you back to sleep.

you can't see it but when you abandon the stuffed toy to turn and bury yourself in his chest, he full on smirks.

rakes his hand through your hair and doesn't even spare the toy another glance as he closes his eyes and drifts off to dreamland with you.

when he wakes up, you're still secure and comfortable in his arms, the animal long forgotten and laying on the lonesome, cold side of the bed. all he does is chuckle to himself in amusement before peppering your face with kisses to greet you good morning.

taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @dawndelion-winery @tiredsleep @codename-hiraeth @mari-san-cant @mininji @artificial-heartache

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lipglossanon · 11 months

Text

It’s Moving Faster (It’s Coming Closer)

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stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy trifecta x fem!reader

(This means all 3 stepdad versions at once 🤭) This is essentially a crack fic so don’t take it seriously 👍 😆 Literally just for s and g’s

Inspiration:

Answer to anon: The After Dark series is in its own universe as the OG stepdad!Leon. The others like With Devils Inside Me (super dark stepdad Leon) and then the sweet, alcoholic stepdad Leon in If You Could Only See are each their own thing.

thanks for the insane idea 🤭 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, foursome (F/M/M/M), daddy kink, dirty talk, name calling, oral (f & m receiving), biting, nipple play, pussy spanking, unprotected sex, creampies, breeding kink, talks of lactation kink

Title from Slither by Djo

༺♥༻༺♥༻༺♥༻

You wake up with a start, head ringing like a bell. Raising up, you realize you’re in your bedroom but it seems.. off.

“Oh she’s awake!” Leon’s voice comes from your left; you turn to see him sitting against the headboard, hip even with your shoulders.

“We can all see that,” another lower timbre speaks, sounding almost exactly like Leon coming from your right along with a copy of his laugh.

You blink sleepily at him as he brushes your hair away from your face, “Ignore them, sweetheart.”

You move your attention to the other voices and freeze in place. Your eyes can’t believe what they’re seeing. Sitting on your dresser, is an exact copy of your stepdad and leaning against the wall next to him is another duplicate.

“What?” You whisper out loud, quickly turning to your Leon, “how—“

He shrugs and pets your hair again, “Don’t know. We all just woke up here.”

You feel your bed dip as another weight sits down.

You turn and see a meaner, younger Leon staring at you.

“It’s uncanny how much they look alike,” this new Leon pets your calf, dark eyes empty and cold, “still so pretty.”

Your breath catches as you pull your leg away, pushing closer to your actual stepdad. The other Leon pulls his hand away with a mean little smile.

“Act the same way too,” his eyes flicker from yours up to your Leon, “got me wondering if her cunt’s as good.”

You gasp as he laughs at you. Your Leon only pets your hair softly.

“No need to be so crass,” the third Leon comes in closer; this one looks a little rougher around the edges, eyes bloodshot but kind.

The mean Leon shrugs, “You know you’re thinking it, too. What it would be like to bury your face in this hot little cunt to see if she compares to the one at home.”

The third Leon flushes and drops your gaze bashfully as he doesn’t argue. A hot tongue of arousal buzzes your cunt both from the younger Leon’s words to the reaction of this shy Leon thinking such dirty thoughts about you.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” your Leon finally speaks up, voice colored in amusement, “who said I even felt like sharing?”

Your clit throbs at the thought of Leon letting these two strangers have their way with you. You whine in your throat making two pairs of eyes watch you greedily.

“She sounds the same,” the shy Leon speaks up, voice rough, “always so good.”

“Could make her sound even better,” the Leon sitting on your bed scoots a little closer, “could make her scream.”

You push up until you’re sitting between your Leon’s splayed legs, hands gripping his thighs tightly to press yourself as close to him as possible.

He chuckles and runs his hands down your sides to your skirt, “Feeling nervous, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, eyes glued to his copycats who watch you just as closely.

“Babygirl,” the rough looking, shy Leon moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed as well, “no reason to be nervous.”

You smile shyly at him as the Leon behind you murmurs in your ear, “He’s right, baby, no reason to be nervous. Besides..”

He flips your skirt up to show your damp panties off to the other two Leons.

“They’ve seen needy cunts before,” he kisses your ear as you mewl in embarrassment, “now I’m just gonna show them the best one.”

“Daddy,” you gasp out as your stepdad holds your skirt up with one hand and rubs against your wet panties with the other.

You spill more slick into the gusset of your panties making you try to hide your face from all of them staring straight at your cloth covered pussy. Your body’s so hot making you pant softly, nipples hard and showing through your shirt.

The crass Leon moves until he’s kneeling between your legs.

“So wet already and none of us have even touched you,” he smirks at you, a mean look hovering in his eyes, “little slut.”

Your hips rock up with a whine as your own Leon laughs down at you making you hotter and wetter. Whatever happens, there’s no way you’re going to survive all of them at once.

“So mean,” the third Leon cuts in, scooting across the bed until he’s pressed against your right side, “she’s our perfect girl, gotta be sweet to’er.”

He dips his head down and presses a gentle kiss to your neck making your eyes flutter as you sigh.

“So sweet,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth across you jaw with slow kisses until he reaches your lips, “can I kiss you, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, reaching out to wrap your hands around the nape of his neck.

You whine into his mouth as he kisses you slowly, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste your hot, wet mouth. There’s a hint of whiskey on his tongue, driving you a little wild, making you suck on it greedily. He groans and fucks his tongue deeper into your mouth.

Once he pulls away, there’s a strand of spit connecting your mouths. You surge forward and lick it off making him moan.

“Perfect girl,” he kisses you hungrily, giving up being sweet to roughly lick into your mouth to suck on your tongue.

“Keep going,” you hear the Leon between your legs speak, “getting this pussy nice and wet with those kisses. Maybe should kiss this sweet little kitty huh?”

You break the kiss to whine, spreading your thighs wider, “Daddy!”

You feel your Leon’s cock pressing against your ass making you rock down into him.

“Can h-he?” You pant as the Leon you were kissing drags his mouth across your neck to leave suckling bruises in his wake.

“Can he what, sweetheart? Ya gotta be clear about what you want or how can he give it to you?” he rumbles against your back, hands dragging down your thighs and back up to stroke your cunt through your panties.

You whine, chest heaving, feeling dizzy with arousal.

“P-please,” you turn your wide eyes to the Leon between your legs, “will you eat my pussy, daddy? Pretty please?”

You still have your right arm draped over the shy Leon’s neck as he kisses and bites your neck; dragging your left hand down, you hold your skirt out of the way. Your Leon lets go of your skirt and uses both hands to tease your cunt through your panties, stroking your pussy lips and rubbing your sensitive clit.

The Leon directly in front of you grins crookedly making your pulse leap in your throat, “What manners,” he coos, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor.

He lays flat on your bed and slowly kisses his way from your shaking calves up to your spread thighs.

“Bite her,” your Leon cuts in, “she likes a little teeth near her sweet cunt. Gets her tight hole soaking wet.”

They both laugh meanly at your high moan; the shy Leon groans against you neck.

“Biting?” he pulls away, pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes, “you like that pretty girl?”

Before you can say anything, the Leon between your legs sinks his teeth deep into your thigh close to your pussy. You cry out, body arching as you press into his sharp teeth. Leon pulls away and sinks his mouth right back into your thigh making you whine and buck your hips.

“Fuck,” the shy Leon whispers, eyes glued to the Leon sucking and biting your tender skin.

“Oh yeah,” your Leon growls, “fucking loves getting those thighs bruised up. Only place her mom won’t see, isn’t that right, baby?”

Your eyes are lidded and hazy, “Uh huh, daddy. S’good, makes me so wet.”

You feel as the sweet Leon rolls his hips into your side.

“God, I’ll have to try it with mine,” he pants against you, “where else? Her momma ain’t in the picture anymore.”

You drag your gaze away from the Leon mauling your thighs in sharp bites. He pulls back to slip your panties off but presses his mouth into your thighs to leave more bruises .

“Neck, shoulders,” you whisper at him, lips swollen and enticing, “want daddy to mark me up everywhere.”

You tug him closer with your arm, lips brushing against his as you sigh out, “Tits are a good place too. And if you get me going really good, you can bite my pussy lips.”

He shoves his tongue in your mouth with a whine, licking into you sloppily getting spit everywhere.

“Fuck,” he pulls away, hands ripping his shirt off followed by him slipping his jeans and underwear off.

You watch hungrily as he strokes his cock a few times to take the edge off.

“Got me so fucking hard, sweet girl,” he groans, kissing you messily again causing your clit to throb, “want daddy to bite your cute little cunt? Fuck, s’hot baby.”

“Daddy,” you whine at him, “you’re so sweet,” he kisses you again, a little softer but no less eagerly.

“You got a lucky girl,” you pull away to whisper in his ear, “do you give her lotsa kisses?”

“Yeah,” he pants, stroking his cock pulling the foreskin down to spread his precum around the head, “lotsa kisses.”

You hum and whisper again, “What about her pussy? Do you give her pussy lotsa kisses too?”

“Fuck,” he grits out, “yeah, yeah, I do, god, how can I not? Love kissing that pretty pussy.”

You sigh and tug him closer, “Then help eat me out, daddy. Give me lots of those sweet kisses.”

He surges against you this time to lick into your giggling mouth. He shifts to kneel between your legs.

“Move,” he presses against the shoulder of the Leon between your thighs.

That Leon raises his head, lips swollen from sucking and kissing bite after bite into your thighs.

“Fuck you mean move?” He snarls at him, “she asked me to eat her cunt.”

“Yeah well she just asked me to as well,” he growls right back.

Your pussy flutters around nothing as more slick gushes from your hole watching as they argue over eating you out.

“Sneaky,” your Leon chuckles in your ear, “and greedy, sweetheart. You want their mouths that bad, couldn’t wait so had to have both?”

You whine, “Daddy, I need it. Need them to give my pussy lots of kisses.”

“Don’t want her feeling left out, huh?” his smoky voice makes your skin pebble with goosebumps.

You shake your head, “Uh uh, daddy gives the best kisses. She needs them too.”

Your spine arches as two greedy mouths lap at your glistening cunt at the same time, a low whine spilling from your lips. You can’t think past the hot wet tongues licking into your pussy and circling your clit.

“S-so good, unh, unh, d-daddy s’good,” you moan, pushing your hips up into their mouths.

Your hazy eyes watch as the mean Leon fucks his tongue into your clenching hole with a groan while the sweeter one suckles and kisses your clit.

“Help’em out, sweetheart,” your Leon whispers hotly in your ear, “hold your cute little pussy open so they can eat her all up.”

“Leon,” you gasp, “yes, yes, please.”

You flip your skirt all the way up and reach down to spread open your cunt.

“Good girl,” the sweet Leon praises you lighting up your nerve endings.

He and the other Leon messily make out with your cunt, tongues running all over your swollen clit and fat pussy lips, licking into your dripping wet hole only to repeat it over and over and over until they’re holding your thighs down so you can’t move away from their mouths.

You’re crying from how good you feel; arousal is pulsing all through your body, heightening when your Leon slides his hands around to lift the hem of your shirt and take it off of you. He tugs your bra down so your breasts spill out of the cups, nipples hardening in the cool air.

He tugs and pinches the hard buds making you mewl and push into his rough fingers.

“Daddy,” you pant, eyes open but unseeing as the Leon at your back fondles your breasts and teases your nipples.

“Good girl,” he purrs in your ear, “just let us play with you, baby.”

He twists your nipples making you squeal, slick gushing from your pussy to coat the mouth of the Leon lapping at your hole while the other Leon sloppily kisses your sensitive clit. Your Leon keeps up the harsh tugs and pinches making you whine from the too much feeling pulsing in your tightened buds.

“Like me being rough on these cute little nipples, huh?” he mocks, “look at you getting so wet for us. Think that sweet cunt’s ready to get fucked?”

You mewl needily, “Uh huh, need daddy so bad. Please, Leon, please want it. Give it to me, please, please.”

The two Leon’s between your thighs pull back with a loud wet noise.

“Going first,” the mean Leon states, eyes taking in your wet pussy as they drag up to your nipples, still being toyed with by your Leon, then up to your blissed out face, “one of you two can get my sloppy seconds.”

You moan and arch your hips down towards him, “Please, daddy.”

He spanks his hand down on your swollen mound and clit making you squeal.

“You’re gonna be a good fuck, babygirl,” he laughs, getting completely undressed then pressing his fat cock against your drooling pussy.

He eases in, stretching you open on his throbbing length making you moan into the feeling. He pauses for a second then fucks himself into your clenching walls, not stopping until he’s completely bottomed out, tip kissing your womb.

“S’deep,” you choke out, hands moving up to grab your Leon’s forearms, nails digging in, “he’s too deep, daddy.”

“No he’s not,” he laughs in your ear, “you can take’em, sweetheart. Your little pussy’s made for daddy’s dick, right?”

You nod, tears streaming from your eyes, “H-hurts, daddy.”

They all groan at that, the Leon inside you bucking forward trying to get even deeper into your pussy.

“Fuck,” he grins crookedly at you, “gonna breed this pretty pussy then it’s his turn right?”

He nods to the sweeter Leon kneeling at your side, slowly stroking his cock as he watches you get fucked open.

“Y-yes, daddy,” you mewl, mouth watering as you watch Leon jerk his cock slowly, precum oozing over his knuckles making them sticky—making you want to clean him up.

Leon pulls his cock out of your pussy slowly then slams back in hard making you cry out, eyes closed and head tossed back. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, chasing his own pleasure as he bullies his cock into your cunt until you’re practically screaming.

“That’s it, fucking take it,” he growls at you, eyes stormy and mean, “gonna fill this little pussy up.”

“Say thank you, sweetheart,” your Leon kisses your ear, still tugging and pinching your swollen nipples.

“T-thank you, d-daddy,” you gasp, voice hoarse.

The sweet Leon moans and fucks his fist a little harder making you whine over at him.

“Want me to suck it, daddy?” You bite your bottom lip.

“Mm only if you want to, honey,” he shuffles up and the Leon behind you lets you lean over to kitten lick at the fat tip of this other Leon.

He groans and grabs the back of your neck, holding onto you but not pushing any further making you moan and suck more of his cock into your mouth. Your pussy squelches with every thrust by the mean Leon, jostling you until you’re gagging on the dick in your mouth.

Your Leon grabs you head and holds you there, “He’s gonna fuck your mouth, baby. Sit still.”

With that permission, the sweet Leon slowly builds up rolling thrusts to fuck his cock in and out of your spit filled mouth. He groans and pants, rocking the tip of his dick into your throat making you choke but neither he nor your Leon let you up so you just have to take it, drooling all over his cock so much it drips down his balls.

“Nothing but a slut,” the Leon fucking your pussy grits out, picking up speed to bully his cock into your soaked cunt.

You moan, the sound garbled and wet as your stepdad starts playing with your sensitive nipples again, tugging hard before pinching your tits.

“Mm she likes that,” Leon laughs meanly, fucking into your pussy harder, “squeeze down on me babygirl, about to cream this pretty cunt.”

Not being able to move makes you sigh and whine against the cock filling your throat and squeeze down hard on the one filling your pussy. Leon tugs on your nipples just right and your eyes flutter shut as your cunt milks the fat dick splitting you open.

“Fuck, ‘m cumming,” Leon pushes his cock as deep as possible, hot spurts of jizz painting your spasming walls as he empties himself inside you.

It feels like forever before he slowly pulls out, a wet noisy suction that makes them all groan.

“Your turn,” he grins at the Leon you’re sucking off.

“Mm, ready, honey?” he eases out of your swollen mouth and moves down between your legs.

“You’re so full, sweetheart,” he moans, “gonna fill you up so much, we might knock ya up.”

You moan and rock your hips down, “Daddy, don’t say that.”

He smiles at you, “Sorry baby. Just gets me hot thinking we might breed your pretty pussy.”

He slowly feeds his cock into your sore pussy. You can feel cum and slick drip out of your hole as he presses deeper and deeper into you. Whining, you dig your nails into your Leon’s arms again.

“He’s too big, too,” you pant, “s’too much. You’re gonna break my pussy.”

Hips jumping, the sweet Leon bottoms out in your cunt suddenly making you wail at the pressure against your cervix.

He presses down on your thighs to keep you spread open, “Sorry, baby, you just make it so hard to go slow.”

The mean Leon lays along your side so he can mouth at your breasts.

“Just think, if we knock you up you could be leaking from here, too,” he bites your nipple making a reedy moan leave your throat.

Your Leon laughs in agreement, “Milk you like you milk us, sweetheart.”

They take turns being rough on your nipples with your Leon pinching and rolling them in his fingers while the other bites and sucks on the hard buds.

“So tight,” Leon grinds deep into your cunt, rubbing against your g-spot.

“There, daddy,” you gasp, “there, there, there!”

He doesn’t move and just keeps grinding his dick over and over until your whole body shakes apart, orgasm completely wiping your brain out with white noise. When you finally come back to yourself, this Leon is still between your legs pounding your pussy over and over, soft whines and grunts slipping past his pouty lips.

You feel a hot wet mouth suckling your nipples making you arch into the suction.

“Like those tits being sucked don’t you?” A low smoky voice whispers in your ear making you sigh in pleasure.

“Mmhmm, s’good,” you whimper.

“Say it, baby, wanna hear you say it,” the low tone laughs.

“Like when daddy sucks on my tits,” you whisper, “feels good.”

The Leon filling your cunt moans, “Gonna cum, honey, where do you want it?”

“In me, please,” you try to spread your thighs more, “want daddy to breed my pretty pussy.”

“God, fuck, ungh,” he growls and pumps his load into your spent pussy, hot strings of cum dripping down his throbbing cock since your pussy is filled to the brim.

He pulls out and shoots the rest out on your fat pussy lips and swollen clit. You sigh at the hot jizz coating your pussy.

“My turn, sweet girl,” your Leon states tugging you up and away from the two Leons on the bed.

He manhandles you with ease until you’re both at the foot of the bed, he’s standing behind you as your kneeling on the sheets arms twisted behind you, back arched to accommodate the hold he has on them.

“They’re gonna suck on your pretty tits while I rail this sloppy cunt,” he kisses your neck as the other two Leons move up until they’re right in front of you.

You mewl as two hot mouths eagerly suck on each nipple, tongues and teeth teasing at the hard buds. Your Leon slowly presses his dick into your abused pussy, cum dripping all over your thighs from the other creampies.

“That’s it, good girl,” he coos in your ear, “feels good getting those cute tits licked huh? It must cause this pussy is sucking me in.”

You can only pant, body overloaded on sensation. The two Leons in front of you grunt and moan into your breasts, sucking hard and greedily. You notice they’re each stroking their own cocks, getting off on tasting your tits.

“Daddy,” your tongue feels swollen in your mouth, “want you to cum in me.”

“I’m going to sweetheart, don’t worry,” he smacks your ass, “just wanna enjoy this sloppy cum filled pussy. S’hot getting somebody’s sloppy seconds. Or should I say sloppy thirds?”

He laughs making you clench down on him hard. He spanks your ass a few more times making you whine and buck back into him. Once he bottoms out, he just grinds the fat head against your cervix making you arch your back, which only presses your tits further into the hungry mouths sucking on them.

“Would be hot to milk those cute titties of yours, baby,” he grunts in your ear, “you’d be so wet and messy everywhere. Wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth off of you.”

“Leon,” you whimper, “don’t wanna—“

He reaches around and spanks your pussy, “It’s just a dirty thought, sweetheart,” he chides, “your pussy sure likes the thought of me sucking on your milky tits though.”

He grips your arms harder and starts railing into your cunt deeper, hips humping faster into your wet squelching pussy. He keeps spanking your pussy making you drool all over yourself as your belly gets warmer and warmer, orgasm just around the corner.

One of the mouths on your breasts starts biting making you mewl and press harder into their teeth.

“Bite me, daddy,” you’re crying softly now, feeling too good, “bite me, please.”

All three listen to you, each mouth on your nipples nipping the bud before sinking teeth into your areola. Leon behind you bites down on your shoulder making your legs shake in pleasure.

“G’nna cum, daddy, you’re g’nna make me cum,” you moan, body squirming—not sure where to go against the onslaught of feelings.

Leon spanks down on your clit the hardest he’s ever done and you scream, pussy gushing all over his cock. You think you’re babbling thank you but you honestly have no idea. Your brain is totally offline as pleasure makes you stupid, sweeping through your body leaving nothing behind.

You feel the mouths slowly pull off of your nipples as you Leon says something. Then, you’re completely bent over the bed so he can pound into your sloppy cunt. You weakly clench down on him and he snaps, knocking his cock into your cervix and spilling inside of you. It’s so hot it makes you moan brokenly. Without pulling out, he starts to shake your shoulders roughly.

“What?” Your brain feels like soup.

“I said you need to wake up, sweetheart,” his voice says from above you making you slowly blink your eyes open.

You shoot up in bed and look around. It’s your room again but this time it doesn’t have that weird dream vibe to it.

You look up at Leon who’s standing next to your bed with a confused expression.

“You okay? Are you getting sick?”

You shake your head no even as he tests your forehead for a temperature.

“Hmm, well if you don’t feel well let me know and I’ll pick up some medicine while I’m out,” his frown doesn’t disappear even as he walks towards your open door.

“Will do,” you call out to his retreating back as he shuts he door.

You flop back down on your bed with a huff. Maybe you shouldn’t have ice cream before bed.

#crack fic #stepdad!leon multiverse? 😂#stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepdad leon s kennedy #stepdad!leon kennedy #stepdad!leon s kennedy #stepcest #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy #alcohlic stepdad!leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #lipglossanon

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