#‘the old man did say time travel fucks with the mind’

[justadeadreaper]

You can thank my friends for encouraging me to write more and write this, as my motivation to write has been completely fried due to the stress of exams and other issues in my life. Sorry for not posting in forever.

CW: Chubby!König x AFAB!Reader, food play with ice cream, overstimulation, temperature play, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

Even with how his age was affecting his stamina Chubby!König always found a way to go on for hours when it involved you. You had asked him before why this was the case and normally you received a shrug from the older man as he just explained that it was purely a result of you having such a gorgeous body that he could not keep his perverted mits off of. He always patted your head after hours of fucking telling you not to think about it too hard or worry about it as he made you rest on his fatty pecs that you always joked needed a bra rather than the hole-covered wife-beater he prefers.

Yet your poor little cunt could not stop thinking about it. How could it not? All sore and swollen and red from having that bitch breaker he calls a cock destroying your insides to try and fulfil his perverse fantasies that raided his mind virtually every minute of the day. You always tended to whine after his hours upon hours of fucking you into the bed like a lion in its rut due to the soreness down there.

You thought today would be no different.

Well, it was what you thought. You thought he would give his normal reaction to your whining which you had become used to, his usual condescending responses that he gave in that sickly sweet voice of his as he made sure his dear Hase stopped your whining. But, this time he rose out of your shared bed without saying a word. At first, your thoughts ran wild thinking that you had upset him as you tried to call him back to bed, even offering your cunt as an apology, still, he continued ignoring you as he left the room and you could hear the old wooden stairs creak under his feet as he always promised to fix the annoying sound but never did. The pit of worry crept from your stomach through your throat scraping at the sides until you heard the familiar sound of him walking back up the stairs. Once he had reentered the room the first thing you saw was his face, particularly that familiar shit-eating smirk he always wore when he had finally gotten something over you. Your eyes travelled down to see what he held in his hands and... oh.

Oh.

A tub of ice cream with a spoon. The tub was a repurposed tub from a pint of strawberry ice cream he had gorged on weeks ago to use for the ice cream machine he had brought to make his own due to his hate towards brands for not making a mixture of strawberry, pistachio, and vanilla ice cream even after his multiple threats and bribes. You could tell from the slight sheen of water dripping from the tub that he had already slightly melted it under some warm water as the spoon had a slight sheen of frost. 

He did not falter in his steps as he came closer to the bed before he came back upon it, the mattress dipping under the weight exerted from his knees. One knee was used to part your thighs as his hands were too distracted with opening the lid with a satisfying pop. You desperately tried to close your legs again when you felt the hair from his thigh rub against your cunt, but it was no luck as the strength of the muscles beneath the fat formed a wall you could never dream of toppling, even if you tried with all your might. A whine tried to erupt from your mouth in protest, but it was quickly halted by the gasp that burst through at the feeling of the freezing spoon against your throbbing clit.

All Chubby!König did was let out a hushed chuckle at your reaction; he kept the spoon on your clit not caring at the pain that wrapped around the small nub due to the overstimulation he always seemed to inflict on you that caused you to squirm. He always loved your reactions to what he had done, and this brought the biggest smile to his face.

Once he had finally decided that he had enough of torturing your poor clit he moved the spoon off your pathetic clit that throbbed from the loss of the touch but also the overwhelming, overstimulating pain. He then dipped the spoon in the ice cream before scooping the slightly melted cream all over your cunt, the lighter colour of it making it seem as if your cunt was not as red as the tomatoes the two of you grew. It hurt, but the coldness gave some well-needed relief after his onslaught, but the relief was short-lived.

Without a second thought, he pushed his head down between your thighs and began to sloppily lick the ice cream from your sticky cunt. The ice cream blended in with your juices to make a mixture that sent him to Heaven, one-half you -his favourite meal in the world- and the other half his favourite ice cream. Chubby!König, in all terms and senses of the phrase, was a simple man that such a perverse activity brought him a joy that he would gladly chase after by spending his life doing it until the end of eternity. As the muscle of his tongue lapped at your pussy like a starved dog with even a few prods that threatened to breach your sore walls that were already tightening around nothing, one of his hands would reapply the ice cream to where he had licked it off while his other hand reached between his own thighs to relieve the aching, throbbing shaft that strained against the chub of his thigh, wetting the hair with the globs of precious seed that leaked out from the blushed tip.

He continued with this pattern like an automated machine, as his brain had been on autopilot for most of it, letting the sensation, pleasure, and taste cloud his mind like the world’s strongest drug. Only one thing would stop him. Your cum. Particularly your cum all over your face as it made your cum drip into a small puddle that would force the bed sheets to be changed in the morning. From the use of the tongue and all of your orgasms from earlier, it was not hard for you to release once more as the overstimulation finally caught up to your pleasure-fogged mind.

The smirk that twisted his scarred lips from all the years of gnawing was something that only could be rivalled by the cockiest of gods. He finally pulled back to admire the masterful piece of art his cock, hands, and tongue had created before he enacted the next part of his plan.

He dragged the spoon up your cunt, collecting as much of your juices and ice cream onto the spoon as he could. Then he brought it to his dick, his movements becoming more rushed and drastic as he jerked off to reach the release that had been teasing him when he started this whole mess. All it took was another minute before thick ropes of cum spurted over the spoon mixing with your juices and the ice cream, the ultimate summary of this event. He then pushed the spoon towards the mouth.

“Open up...” he commanded.

You did.

“Good Hase~...” he chuckled darkly with the glint of a successful predator in his eyes.

You whined as he pushed the spoon in your mouth, forcing you to close your lips before you swallowed the salty but sweet and creamy mixture that had its appealingness to it in its own twisted way.

“What’s wrong Hase? I thought you said you wanted something to help with the soreness, ja?~” he condescendingly asked in response to your reaction.

He was right, like always; you just did not mean it like this. But, when you saw how his dick had chubbed up once more, you realised this would become a more frequent occurrence and that you were in for a much longer night than you had originally expected.

Oh, how you had cursed yourself by ever whining in the first place.

[distracted-milkshake]

Bro I don’t know why I like fics with Five regressing mentally so much but I think I just have a hard time believing that after not growing up properly and fucking up his body that his mind would just like…not go mental and regress to when he felt safest, which was most definitely before he jumped in 2002.

It feels realistic. He’s not invincible, and even when he was one he never really got to be a kid, either because of the Academy or the Apocalypse.

And sure, maybe he got to mature and become socially less anemic when he was under the Commission but that wasn’t exactly a pleasant few years and it’s a drop in an ocean to the time he spent alone, and a boatload of trauma to boot.

I dunno. Just him accepting that he can have a do-over on his childhood in some of the ways that count is just really heartwarming to me, and honestly not a piece I think tua4 will cover even if it ever gets to his trauma recovery at all.

Also Five having long hair getting to dress like a teen is funny and entertaining as hell to me.

[lucy-ghoul]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[kazutora-kurokawa]

What ab tenjiku guys with a yapper gf⁉️ and I mean like, after the boombayah she'd stare dead at the ceiling and be like "that feeling you get on your tongue when you eat a pineapple is actually the pineapple trying to eat you" and go on a whole rant til she falls asleep. Plssss do this my glorious queen Kaz 🙏🙏😁😁😁😜🤭😍😝🎀😜😭🤭😝🤝😝🤝🤭😁🤭😁♥️♥️♥️

Tenjiku x Talkative!Girlfriend!Reader

♡ SFW, fem reader, fluff, kinda smut on Mochi's, post-sex convos, random facts, questions, and workplace drama ♡

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Mucho, Shion

note: glorious queen is crazy 😭 pls continue tho lmao

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Izana

🎴 He's not trying to hear that yapping

"Zana, did you know that cats basically brainwashed humans into loving them?"

"...what?"

🎴 He'll roll over and ignore you until you shut up

🎴 Yap enough and he'll leave the room and sleep on the couch

Kakucho

🩷 He loves listening to you talk, but it's late at night and he's tired

🩷 He politely asks you to be quiet

"Kaku, do you ever think-"

"Babygirl, y'know I love listening to you yap all day, but please lemme get some sleep."

🩷 Cuddles you and buries your face in his chest so you'll shut up

Ran

💜 This man values his beauty sleep, so he hates the rants fr

"Ran, if you had the power to stop time for as long as you want, what would you do?"

"I'd get some damn rest, now go to bed princess."

💜 Puts noise cancelling headphones in to block you out

Rindou

🩵 Happily listens to your yapping

"Then the lady started going off, calling my boss out of his name and shit."

"Oh really?...Then what baby?"

🩵 Falls asleep while you're talking, your voice is soothing for him

🩵 He's the type of boyfriend to fall asleep on calls too

Mochi

🍡 Doesn't mind the yapping at first

"Then the guy started traveling through time to save his childhood friends and-"

"Darling I'm gonna stop you right there, because if you got time to yap, then you have energy for another round."

🍡 Prefers you whimpering and moaning rather than talking his ears off

Mucho

💙 Doesn't even let you start yapping

"Baby if-"

*Covers your mouth with his hand* "It's time for bed love."

💙 I swear he'd be like an old man, going to sleep early and shit lol

Shion

♥️ Listens intently to every word you say

"Did you know some sharks eat their siblings in the womb?"

"That's fucking vicious...tell me more."

♥️ Stays up all night talking to you until you fall asleep

♥️ He hates when you fall asleep before him, he doesn't like the silence or the absence of your voice

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[fqiryspit]

FOOTBALL PLAYER EREN HEADCANONS

eren x fem!reader

cw: eren is head over heels for you, crazy fangirls, death threats, eren fucking you, you sucking him, etc etc

you've been in a relationship with eren before his hair was that long and when he stumbled nervously over everything.

he still looks back and cringes, wondering why you wanted to date him

you two have been lifelong friends and once you started your relationship things really were perfect.

eren's football career really took off in college, and he got a lot more attention from the girls on campus rather than old men.

soon he and his team were absolutely famous and you were so excited for him -and incredibly grateful your relationship was swiped under the rug during that time. he had millions of fan girls posting fics and edits of him daily, it was insane.

you asked him to not speak on your relationship -because he got those questions a lot so he just responds with a simple "I'm happy" when they get asked

he wants to -so badly- show you off. to laugh at all his annoying fan girls and bring you out, but, he respects your decision.

after his games, he is absolutely wrecked. he flops down onto the bed and you climb on top of him and start massaging his scalp and he just moans into the sheets

"did you have fun?"

"how was I supposed to have fun when you weren't there?" he says, needy as ever

"errreeen I'm not gonna be able to go that far for every game" you huff

.

and this man loves to spoil you. designer bags out of the blue, wait, did you just eye that coat? no worries, he's just gonna purchase that really quickly.

eren truly truly loves you, he knows he is gonna marry you, it's just a fact.

he melts when he is with you, always needing to hold you in some way and just have you near.

he fanaticizes about your wedding and babies with you late at night or when he's balls deep in you

"fuck, can't wait to fill you up with my babies, gonna make you a mommy"

and by the way, after a game. a win or a loss, he's fucking you.

if he won, he's letting his victory in your pussy, ramming into you over and over while your legs bend in abnormal positions every two seconds while he babbles about how he couldn't get his mind off you the whole time

if he lost...oh man. he's taking all that anger out on you. it goes on for hours until he is finally drained and calm while you lay there full of his cum.

before a conference, you give him a "good luck suck" because he hates going to them, and this makes him feel a lot better <3

.

his fans are crazy, and once they caught wind of your relationship, all hell broke loose.

a photo came to light of eren simply hugging you. you know how careful he is with that stuff so you hid it from him, knowing he rarely goes on social media it should be a breeze, right?

you had your knees up to your chest and a twisted brow on, reading through the death threats and horrible comments made about your appearance.

you're an idiot for not privating your account in time, they found you and are coming in full swing.

you felt your stomach sink, you shouldn't let them get to you, but they're pointing out insecurities you've been trying to bury

"you okay?"

you look up to see eren, in the doorway with a concerned look all over his face. you turn off your phone and put a smile on

"yeah, just stupid stuff" you chuckle uncomfortably. he walks over and climbs onto the bed

"what happened?" "nothing, eren"

he looked at you for a couple more seconds, giving you the option to tell him what was going on. then his eyes slowly traveled to your phone you tossed across the bed. you reached for it franticly but he got it in time and as you yelled out his name he unlocked it with his face

everything on his face just dropped in an instant, he read through message after message about people wishing you dead, saying not-so-nice things about your looks, and more.

he asked when this started while he kept staring into the phone, then asked why you didn't tell him.

"I knew it would worry you, so I just-" "you need to tell me these things" he reached over to grab his phone as he started typing, you looked over to see him making a twitter post and you freaked

"don't say anything about it!" you plead, but it was too late, he made a simple post yelling at his 'fans' and then turned his phone off and held you

"please don't worry about those stupid messages"

.

in all, footballplayer!eren is the man of your dreams, and he hopes you haven't found the ring box in his sock drawer yet. <3

an: love him sm <3

[dollypopup]

I get why people would think it but

Colin is NOT a rake. Colin is a young man trying to figure out his identity and what he likes sexually and trying to understand what the men of his society talk about and do. He's not out here messing around with women just to string them along and then leave them. He's trying to fit in and has been made fun of for being a virgin so yeah, he rectifies that by having sex, but just because he slept with a few women, that doesn't make him a rake? You wanna know who an actual rake in the series is?

Fife.

Because what the fuck happened to Miss Goring? I think about her sometimes and my heart aches for her. Her first season out, she's an 18 year old woman, and an older, titled man of her society who she assumes to be a proper gentleman makes her believe their relationship can actually be something, messes around with her the entire season, and then fucks her in a linen closet at a ball only to....what? Come back the next year with absolutely no mention of her whatsoever. Did she get pregnant? Was sent off in disgrace? Have to marry someone else?

Fife is a 30 year old man who has a bad habit of hounding after young, vulnerable women in his society. He fucks them and leaves them. He's a rake. Colin? Colin is not even close to that. Say what you will about the brothel scenes, but that IS the responsible place for a man of his time to go to for sex. Please stop demonizing sex work. Yes, many of these women are in that line of work because of less than savory reasons, but Colin is not taking advantage of them. He is paying for a service and they are providing that service. It is transactional, and he is the LEAST of their concerns in terms of clientele. A kind, handsome man who pays well and is discrete? Yeah, they're fine with him.

Colin has a history of respecting women. He respected Marina all throughout their courtship, and even after. I know some people sneer at him coming to see Marina, but please keep in mind she is a woman on her own who married a stranger far away from ANYONE who knew her. Colin was worried about Daphne when she came to him, asking if anything happened when she was away and clearly ready to fight for her, so of course he's worried about Marina. Partly he visits her for his own closure, but also like....y'all that's a WELLNESS visit. He's concerned that she's unhappy, but ultimately leaves because she's not hurt and that she tells him to. Colin listens to 'no' from the women around him. He asks for permission from them. He waited for Penelope's consent sexually, but he also didn't even get into the carriage until she allowed him. He even asks "Please, let me in".

Colin lives in a time when women do not have many rights, and he listens to the women around him even more than the men. He is the only one of his siblings to ask for his mum's advice and immediately takes it and takes action. He brings Eloise back a feminist text from his travels, even after she's besmirched as a radical, because he supports her pursuits. In season 2, he also knew of her going to the printers and didn't say anything. He has always respected and cared for Penelope. He hasn't insulted a single woman in his vicinity. He doesn't make the women he flirts with feel bad about themselves, or feel less, but compliments them, all whilst keeping respectable distance so as not to make them think he's interested in marrying them. He doesn't dance with any woman but Penelope in that season.

Colin isn't a rake. He's not a fuckboy. He's trying to act like he is, emulating the circle of his society, but that doesn't mean he is. I swear people just WANT to misinterpret him because that's the easiest way, but Colin is a character who doesn't lend well to surface level readings. He's a nuanced, gentle hearted character who has been looked down on for his sensitivity. He's a deeply relatable person because who of us haven't pretended to be accepted? Especially if we've been bullied or excluded. I know I have. Put on a persona for the sake of survival. And he does so for what? A few weeks? That does not a fuckboy make.

Just say you don't want to understand him and move along because those of us who get him GET HIM. And I'm grateful for a character like Colin.

He's the best man in the series by an entire mile and you can't change my mind about that.

[bloodlust-1]

˗ˏˋRelieve Meˎˊ˗ part 1

Halsin x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

Summary: Halsin is looking a bit tense, Tav offers to massage his muscles and relieve his tension in the best way she can. He wants to return the offer to help relieve her as well.

"I never felt my heart stir like this before you, I haven't loved in so long, and yet there it was...and I was in it.”

-> Part 2 <-

TW: none for part1

Note: needed some big-boy energy. This will be an explicit two-parter so ;p enjoy.

It was one hell of a day, everyone nearly dragged themselves into their tents for a well-deserved rest. Recently their travels have been getting harder and harder as they inch close to Buldars Gate. But no matter, the party seemed to try to keep their cool with Halsin’s and Shadowheart’s healing. Sometimes it was just too much though.

Tav sat by the fire with Karlach, who was rubbing her neck, “All that healing couldn’t get the crook out of this fucking neck. I’ve taken weaker hits that hurt less than this.”

“I agree, we’re all walking zombies at this point. Maybe we should take a break tomorrow. We all look like shit.” Tav laid her back on the floor and stretched her limbs out. Just as she sat back up her glance catches Halsin. He was walking by to pick up some food rations, an apple, and placed it in his mouth before walking away.

“Gods what I would do to that man…He makes me look small.” Karlach let out a small sigh of passion. She then looked at Tav who was lost in thought, “Hey, Soldier! Are you admiring our Druid, hm?” She nudged Tav’s shoulder with a smirk.

“He just looks…tense is all.” She rubbed her shoulder that Karlach nudged and hid her smile a little.

“Cmon you’re totally into him! Have you not laid in bed with him yet? I thought you guys were close..maybe even a little too close. Buuut— if it doesn’t work out for you let me know. I’d love to have a go with him.” Karlach giggled and nodded, “I’m serious, go talk to him.”

“And say what? What if he’s tired and doesn’t want visitors. He didn’t even say a word to us.” Tav was visible flushed. A nervous wreck even.

“Shit I don’t know! Make something up. You did say he looked tense. Touch some of those muscles in the name of help. You’re catching my drift?” She winked and pointed at his tent, “hurry before he falls asleep.”

“Karlach you’re a fucking genius. I’ll be back.”

“Or not.” Karlach chimed and sat up, “I’m heading to bed, don’t enjoy yourself too much, soldier.” Karlach reached out her hand for Tav’s and pulled her up to her feet. “Good luck.” Karlach ruffled up Tav’s hair before heading to her tent.

Tav palmed down her fly-aways before holding her head high. Karlach was right, they were close but they never took it to the next level. Why? She wasn't quite sure why, all she knew was that it was time to have courage. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shirt and made her way to his tent.

"Halsin, you there?" Tav pulled the draped curtains to the side. She saw him placing ointment on a couple scratches on his arms.

His eye darted up and he gave a surprised look, "Oh, Tav..I'm sorry, I would've cleaned up a bit. I wasn't expecting company. Please come in." His tent was littered with books, potions, and random old letters from the grove.

"Do not worry about that but—“ She welcomed herself in and kneeled down next to him. "Let me help you with this." She grabbed the small jar of ointment and started to smear any cuts she could find on his arms.

"You're too kind. I would not have bothered you with something small like this. I appreciate it all the same, thank you." He sat still and did not even budge to the pain at first,

Tav nodded her head. This was no trouble at all, after all, she really did care for his well-being. "If you don't mind, it'd be easier to get all these cuts without this shirt." She tugged on the hem of his shirt.

"Of course, little one." He grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted his arms up. His muscles were immaculate as always, the sweet scent of eucalyptus wafted off him, and she could see all the untouched cuts. Some were deep, small, and even healed. Bruises of all kinds of healing stages were scattered on his skin.

"Halsin! You know these could get infected right? If you needed help it wouldn't be a problem!" Her face was angered. Her eyebrows furrowed, and the sight was nothing short of hurt.

"I'll manage." he patted her head and smiled softly at her. As if he wasn't in any kind of pain.

Tav shook her head, she was visibly angry, "You're so stubborn, allow me." She reached out her hand and placed it over his cheek, "I want to help you."

"You've helped me enough. I'll forever be in your debt if you keep going like this." Halsin stared with loving eyes. His gaze was soft and warm, and a gentle smile crept on his lips. His eyes sparkled with the joy of being in her presence, and he looked at her with admiration and affection.

"Then you'll just have to make it up to me one day." Tav pulled away her hand, "Now, let's see this back." She adjusted herself to face his back. Tav continued to aid his cuts, and from time to time he winced to the pain. "You know Halsin. Back at home, I dabbled in some medicinal skills."

"Oh really? This is news to my ears, tell me more, dear." Halsin perked up. He loved educating and learning new knowledge to add to his collection of skills. This definitely peaked his interest because Halsin never knew Tav had medicine skills since she was a fighter.

"Well— my people believed that healing was more than just potions. It's important to take care of your muscles and physique." She rubbed her hands together to create friction. She placed the warmth of her palms against his back. Tav began to lightly press pressure into his skin with long slow strokes. "This'll help reduce tension, improve circulation, and relieve any pain. I can definitely feel how tense your muscles are."

Halsin let out small little groans of relief as Tav's fingers glided up and down his spine. She started to apply a little more pressure and could feel his muscles start to loosen up. Halsin was truly all muscle, she's never touched a man with so much density, not for medical reasons and definitely not intimately. For as much as Tav was in awe, she genuinely tried her best to relax him. He deserved it after all. He did not need to leave his home in the name of aiding Tav. She was grateful for Halsin as much as he was grateful for her.

Her hands glided up and rubbed the muscles of his neck. Halsin could feel her breathing against his neck, it felt like hot little prickles that hit the skin. Halsin shivered in response. Tav noticed the goosebumps along his neck, "Does that feel good?" She whispered innocently in the back of his ear. The heat of her breath tickling his skin.

Halsin leaned his head outward to expose more skin, "Mmm, it puts a healing spell to shame." He complimented Tav. But under his relaxed facade, Halsin was melted with every touch from her warm hands. He was trying to find restraint in himself as an Arch-druid after all. He tried to close his eyes in an attempt to calm down his racing heart, but it only made it worse. He felt like he could feel and smell the presence of Tav. Lewd thoughts crumbled his mind and it made his skin crawl more. As a druid, all his senses were heightened, and the feeling for more clouded his judgment.

Tav noticed the small groans, his skin layered with goosebumps, and felt like his shoulders tensed up once again. She went back to work to massage him some more until she pulled away, and decided to sit in front of him instead. "Let me see your hand?" She said softly as she reached out for one of his hands and rubbed them lovingly.

His hand was way bigger than hers. She thought it was cute how mighty he was, yet how gentle his personality was. Tav thought Halsin was probably touched by the gods themselves with the way he looked. He was truly a masterpiece, a muse. As she rubbed his hands Halsin suddenly intertwined his fingers with hers, stopping Tav from massaging him. Tav's cheeks lit up crimson, and she darted her wide eyes at his gaze. He was holding her hand, one that engulfed her own but she felt so protected by it.

Halsin looked at the woman with an intense gaze, his hazel eyes softened. He was captivated by her beauty, taking in every detail of her face and scars. His heart was pounding in his chest as he thought of all the amazing moments they had shared together. He had such strong feelings of love for her, and he knew deep down that she was the one for him. He was filled with a sense of contentment and joy just being in her presence, and he looked forward to what the future held for them. "I never felt my heart stir like this before you, I haven't loved in so long, and yet there it was...and I was in it. I hope you feel the same, I fear the most these days." He grabbed both her hands and placed a tender kiss on them. "I want to repay your kindness, only if you'll allow me, of course."

Tav eagerly agreed to Halsin's offer, she too felt a connection and a strong mutual attraction. She was a woman who would never take Halsin's love for granted, "I feel the same, Halsin...I'd be happy too."

He smiled and placed a single kiss on her lips. It was tender and gentle, sadly it lasted only a moment before he pulled away, "Meet me at my tent tomorrow night and I will grant you a night of pleasure. One that you'll remember for all your long nights. I want to make you feel good too, my heart."

[iamasaddie]

one more night in Dorne

paring: Oberyn Martell x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit word count: 1,6k summary: when the Prince came back from his trip overseas, he went straight to the thing he desired most warnings: explicit sexual content; extreme overstimulation; oral F receiving; begging (to stop but you don't really want that); NO USE OF Y/N

Arabian Nights

Like Arabian Days

More often than not

Are hotter than hot

In a lot of good ways

Your body was splayed upon a massive bed covered in the softest silks, and the most magnificent blankets. The thin, almost transparent fabric of the canopy moved with the occasional breath of wind. Heat overwhelmed your body, sun found a way to seep under your skin and travel down your veins even when you were in the shelter of one of the most lavish rooms of the palace. Tired muscles of your quivering thighs were covered in sweat, while your eyelids could barely contain the salty rivers of tears that desired to escape your eyes.

You were in the gentle, but firm clutches of your Prince, Oberyn Martell. The Red Viper. The Insatiable Lover. The Best Cock in All of The Seven Seas. Your royal lover found you first thing when he returned from one of his trips his brother sent him to. You were just finishing cleaning up the kitchens, sweat and grime unpleasantly sticking to you as a middle layer between your skin and the billowy tunic you wore on the particularly hot days. You jumped and were ready to scream when strong hands circled your waist, one strategically going to shut your mouth so you couldn't make a noise, and a low, honey-thick sound of his voice filled your ears. "I think these kitchens look as clean as my dear brother's ass on a wash day. You're done here, my little one."

You didn't reply, and didn't try to fight him when he practically dragged you to his chambers through all the tiny corridors that intertwined like ivy vines. From what you could say, that was 4 hours ago. Sometimes your Prince liked to fool around, play the game of cat and mouse, teasing you to the point where you'd cry out of frustration praying to all the Gods, old and new, so he would just take you already. Today was not that day. As soon as he locked the massive wooden doors - something he didn't do all that often - Oberyn launched himself at you, claiming your mouth and then laying you on the bed. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself between the silken sheets of the man that unknowingly stole your heart but every time it was a thrill. You never knew what would happen, but you were ready to let him do anything his heart, mind, and cock desired. The only thing you were afraid of was that your body was too weak to handle all the strength of his undying passion.

By now you felt as if you were being flayed alive, your body shivered violently, exhausted from pleasure he insisted to give you with his mouth. He loved doing that, usually bringing you to at least one peak before claiming your cunt with his cock (you still gasped every time he slid inside you like you did that first time, when he took everything you begged him to take). Today was different, though. You came four times already, but still he wasn’t moving away. He was growling into your cunt like an animal, the hot swipes of his tongue persistent and insatiable. You’d lost count of the times you tried to pull on his short hair. In your attempts to get him to stop the unstoppable caresses of his tongue, you begged him to just fuck you, moaning how empty you felt without his gorgeous cock, but he didn’t even bother to answer you. Oberyn continued relentlessly abusing your raw flesh, letting his fingers slide inside you from time to time when you were thrashing in ecstasy.

“My Prince, I beg of you. I am going to die. I can’t take it anymore.” You prayed he’d stop, even though the tiniest part of you hoped he’d ignore you once again, and continue using your willing body for his pleasure. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to slide your cock in me? Or am I not worthy of your cock anymore?”

He unlatched his lips from your swollen cunt, showing you his pristine mustache covered in your cum and arousal, and smiled the most innocent of smiles. “Oh, my dear little serpent, don’t be so foolish. You know I want that." Giving you some reprieve from his mouth he still didn't let you relax, tracing his index finger up and down your swollen, drenched lips. "There’s nothing more divine in this world or any other than the feeling of my cock piercing your wet cunt, like the sun piercing the sky. But I have been thirsty for so long that I can’t refuse myself a generous fill of your nectar.”

Your lips trembled, eyes spilling tears shamelessly. He was stubborn, your Prince. You joked once that one day it would get him killed. Maybe it'd kill you first, though.

“My Prince, I can’t take it anymore," you shook your head, calling to his senses. "I don’t think there’s any more liquid left in me.”

Oberyn tsk'd and brought his lips to your skin, and you jolted a little, almost afraid of his touch. He chuckled lovingly, murmuring in your thigh.

“But if there wasn’t, you wouldn’t be wetting these beautiful silks.”

Your whine was pained and pleasured at the same time when he swiped his fingers through your slit, gathering the embarrassing amount of your slick and showing you his glistening fingers as to prove his point. You closed your eyes, unable to continue looking at the still prominent hunger in his eyes as he licked his fingers clean. 

“Give me one more," he whispered, but it didn't sound like a plea, more like an order he loved giving out. "And then I’ll bring you as many glasses of your favorite Dornish wine as you can drink.”

You snapped your eyes open incredulously. As if you'd sell your cunt for a glass of wine, even the best wine in the world. “You'd only bring me wine because you want to torture my cunt with your devilish tongue again. And you need me full of liquids for that.”

He laughed and you couldn't stop from letting out the same joyful sounds yourself. You loved that man, and even though he didn't know that, it didn't take away from your feelings. His smile nurtured you, the way his eyes roamed your body made you feel like the prettiest creature among the gods and mortals. And when he laughed, you felt ready to sacrifice not only part of your body but your whole being to hear that again.

“You knew how selfish I was when you laid your generous body on the Prince’s bed, little snake. Do not become greedy on me now.” He bit the place on your thigh that he was just kissing, leaving the perfect mark of his teeth that you knew you'd treasure and caress when left alone for the dozenth time. “Will you spread your legs or should we find use of those beautiful ropes?”

You smiled at him, your face a bit tired but accepting and grateful for your fate. With barely working fingers you reached out and traced his big aquiline nose, that made his profile more royal than his heritage did. You stopped on his lips and he kissed your fingertips as you just stared in the depth of his eyes. “You know I will do anything for you, my Prince.”

“I know, serpent.” He licked and kissed the bite mark he left on your skin, slowly returning to the place that was burning both from being used and the desire to be used again.

He must have found some empathy inside himself, because this time he wasn't as violent in his movements. His tongue was flat as he swiped it from your entrance and to the top of your mound, either preparing you, or trying to get all of your tastes trapped inside his mouth. The broad licks were exchanged for a more passionate lapping at your entrance, as he curled his arms beneath your legs, pressing you closer into his face. With every thrust of his slick muscle inside your entrance you felt the now familiar burn of desire. With each orgasm he gave you it was easier and easier to bring you to another peak. 

This time, as soon as the tip of his nose bumped your twitching bud of pleasure, your back arched as a sea wave during the strongest of storms. Your moan was hoarse and loud, throat parched and almost as abused as your cunt.

You knew he'd say something about you sounding prettier than the most talented musician in all the lands, if only he wasn't so consumed by licking, smelling, and drinking you up.

Blackness creeped at you from the corners of your eyes, and you squeezed them shut, adding bright colors to the mix. Oberyn's tongue started speeding up returning to your clit and circling the bud with tight movements. He growled in your cunt as he felt your thighs squeezing around his head, deafening him in the most erotic of acts. The vibrations he sent through your sensitive skin and straight to your core were the final straw of not only your sanity, but your conciseness. Your scream was violent, and your back arched so hard that on the periphery of your mind you thought you'd broken your bones. You felt thoughts and senses leaving your body with every drop of liquid squirting out of your core and into your Prince's greedy mouth. You smiled, thanking Gods and your lover for releasing you from the torturous feeling of being awake as your mind drifted into euphoric blackness.

“Oh, well,” Oberyn's eyes were darker than a starless night, puffy red lips curved in a satisfied smirk. Licking his own swollen and sensitive flesh he caressed your sweaty thighs with a gentle touch, not taking his eyes off your rising and falling chest. “Someone leaving the feast is not a reason to stop it.”  The prince whispered to himself, before disappearing between your thighs once again.

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hope you enjoyed it, leave a comment if you did!

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tag list (bc you looked interested in the comments <3 sorry if u didn’t want to be here lol): @bearsbeetsbeskar ; @northernwindd ; @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog ; @milla-frenchy ; @worhols ; @djarin-dreams ; @hellishjoel ; @jupiter-soups ; @pattwtf ; @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin ; @wannab-urs ; @ghoulettesinspace

[shadesoflsk]

OLDER LEON HEADCANONS

pairing: older!Leon x gn!reader.

warnings:  age gap implied, fluff, no explicit nsfw, basically Leon being an old man.

After retiring, you thought Leon would use his free time to sleep more. After all, he has served the country for more than twenty years. But you always find yourself on an empty bed with no signs of your partner being in the room.

Leon religiously wakes up at 6 o’clock. No matter if it is a rainy Sunday morning. He says he wants to see the news, but he falls asleep pathetically fast as soon as he hits the couch. Sometimes, holding a mug that has been replaced several times. Old man can’t understand that if he falls asleep, all of his body does too. No… you’re not the one who is spilling coffee all over the rug. Why the hell would you do that?

Talking about mugs, he has an obsession with them. Since most of his own “magically” break, he has a whole ass collection. “Best dad ever,” says one. He has no child but he thinks it’s funny as hell. It isn’t, you tell him. “You don’t get me”, he responds back with a roll of his eyes and a grunt as he sits down.

You may have lied about something. You’re guilty for breaking one of his beloved mugs. However, it wasn't your fault. You were in charge of doing the dishes that day, Leon was comfortably laying on the couch, playing candy crush at full volume. He wasn’t deaf… not at all yet it seems that hearing “tasty” every time he swipes on a candy is fucking hilarious. What your poor heart didn’t expect was Leon sneezing so hard that God may have heard him. Your heart dropped, and so did his beloved mug. Shattering in pieces as soon as it hit the floor. 

He doesn't mind your youthful behavior. The generational differences didn’t seem so big when you two were in love. You love going out, drinking and dancing. He does too, he swears. But for him, nothing is better than a little trip to the supermarket. 

He loves comparing prices. Why the hell has the jar of pickles’ price risen? “No babe you don’t understand, it shouldn't be so expensive.” He tries reasoning with you with no avail since you get the damn jar and place it in the basket. That same jar of pickles would be the cause of one embarrassing moment with Leon.

Leon takes pride in his humor. He’s funny, he’s hilarious, and he deserves a spot on stand-up comedy night. Or at least he thinks so. You were at the cashier as the employee did his job. His actions, though, were interrupted when the code from the product couldn’t be scanned. “Please Lord… don’t make him say it.” You think to yourself as Leon watches the scene developing. Time seems to slow down as you see his lips moving. “Must be free then.” He laughs as if it was the funniest thing he ever said. 

Leon was a provider, economically and intimately speaking. He loves surprising you, especially when you are busy with something else. Are you doing laundry? No, that can’t be. You were unexpectedly attacked with wet kisses on your neck, his breath caressing you from behind as he whispered sweet nothings against your ear. Years made him a needy man but God he loves your scent. As his hands were holding your waist, you decided to turn around and kiss him better. When you did, your eyes traveled from his blue orbs, to his lips, to the moles adorning his neck and throat, to his broad chest, to his waist, to his… Why the hell is he wearing crocs with socks? You didn’t expect to be turned off almost immediately. 

You often find yourself looking for Leon in your apartment. Sometimes you would find him watching TV or playing with you guys’ dog. “Have you seen your dad?” You pet the golden retriever on its back. It obviously doesn’t respond back, but by the way its eyes are glued to the door that leads to the garden, you assume Leon has to be there. 

Eventually, you found him there. You have to hold back a giggle as you observe him with the classical dad stance. Hands glued to his hips as he watches the sky. “Is God trying to send you a message?” You lean against the door frame with a teasing look on your face. “No, but I know for a fact that it’s going to rain.” Leon quietly replied as his eyes remained focused on the now cloudy sky.

Texting Leon was… something else. Don’t misunderstand him, he worships the ground you walk on but texting him was like talking to a wall. You could be in a life or death situation and Leon’s answer would be a thumbs up. Or when he’s finally typing something? It’s all in caps.

“DARLING I'M AT THE STORE DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?” Why is he yelling? What point is he trying to make?

“OK BABE CALL ME IF ANYTHING HAPPENS.” He continues yelling.

“LOVE YOU.”

“😃👍” Those emojis…

He has a buddy. He has many buddies. He loves helping, or rather he loves watching someone else struggling. Not in a bad way, really. His life as an agent made him dependent on the feeling of being useful. One day, someone’s car broke down right in front of your home. He took this opportunity to be the good citizen that he is. “My buddy Chris would surely know what to do…” Leon mumbles after thirty minutes of trying to help this poor man with his car. 

Overall, you love this old man of yours. He’s the sweetest partner you’ve ever had. You can always lean on him whenever you need someone to take care of all of your problems. He loves you and definitely loves showing you off as the romantic partner he is. Dates are a must every weekend, dressing all pretty and fancy to eat some dinner at a place which name you don’t remember. However… you could never escape his dad’s jokes.

“What’s the damage?” he asks the waiter as he pulls out his wallet. God you love him.

[petew21-blog]

Life upgrade

Hi, I am Earl Montgomery. I am 34 year old gay man. I studied history and enhlish literature at Columbia and then I became a teacher. I have been working as a teacher since than and I have to say that being a teacher is one of the most honorable proffesions there are. You get to educate all the young minds and set them on a right path in life. If only they would listen to me during classes. Maybe my life wouldn't be so boring. The job takes all my energy. I never believed that so many teachers get burnt out, but man. Once you see that your job affects only few of those kids and the rest just doesn't care, you contemplate back on your life. What could I have done different? I could have had a happy, adventurous life full of fun and sex. Oh how I miss the sex.

Oh sorry, my bad. You thought the guy wearing sports clothes is me? Oh no no no. This is me actually

That guy is Barry. The gym teacher. He's the same age as me. But his life is much better. He works as a gym teacher, coach and in his free time he is a personal trainer in gym. He gets to coach all the hot bodybuilders and sometimes women, that lust over him a later on sleep with him.

I onced tried to hit on him, thinking he might be bisexual, but ended up being ignored for the rest of the school year. He started talking to me again recently and that's fine. If there is no drama it's all good. Besides. He has his own life full of sport and travelling around the world, fucking everything that moves. And I have my own life. My slightly boring and depresive life.

Who am I kidding? I hate my life. I wish I were Barry. To have his hot body, his libido, his life full of travellling and fucking everyone.

Suddenly it was so bright all around me. I was in a garage. Running. I stopped. Where am I? Why am I running? How did I get here?

I looked around but the place was empty. Then I looked down and saw the grey clothes for sport that Barry has. "This can't be". I walked over to the nearest car and saw Barry. No, I saw my reflection.

"Well well well. Can't ignore me now, huh?" I flexed my biceps over the shirt. So freaking hot. He is so buff. Must be amazing to be so strong and have strong muscles like this. His skin is so tense and beautiful. I gotta go somewhere more private to look what he's hiding under this. Don't know how this freaky friday will last.

Vibration in my pocket. Some girls want to have a private class with me in the gym. But the emojis don't seem like they want to take the training very seriously. Might be fun.

"Flex for the camera. Perfect!"

"Omg Barry, you're really hot. How did you get so big?"

"You think this is big... you haven't seen all of me yet. Haha" Where the hell was this coming from? Why did I say that?

"Really? We were actually thinking you coul help us stretch some time and show us how to do this to not hurt ourselves."

"I can stretch you both now in the showers, babes" Whyyy am I saying this. I'm not straight for fucks sake. Oh no. I'm not, but Barry is. I need to get back. I can't be straight.

1 hour later

"Thanks Barry. What a great personal class. Haha. Same time next week?" the taller oned asked while walking away from the gym

"You bet!" the sex was really good I have to admit that. But only this body craves it. Not me. I am gay, I don't want to watch pussy all day.

Phone vibrated again

Holy shit, A message from my number:"Hey, I don't know what you did to me, but I just jerked off for the third time thinking about my own body and I can't keep doing this... I want to swa... SUUCK your dick"

Oh maan, he has the same problem as I do. His body responds to what the person craved before, bout our minds didn't change our sexual orientation it seems.

"Came to your body's place in 30 minutes. Bring lube. Don't be late" I texted. I love this confidence the body is so full off.

And I bet I am gonna love the fact that my old body is gonna suck my dick very soon.

Haha. Gotta thank the istock photos for the inspiration

Story from inbox: Would you be able to do a story where a nerdy teacher swaps bodies with the hunky football coach. Maybe even cucking him?

[charlie-lec-stories]

A lovely mess // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.

Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.

Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.

"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.

"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.

"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.

"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.

"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".

"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".

"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".

He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.

"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.

Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.

"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.

"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".

"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.

"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.

If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.

"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).

"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".

"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".

"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".

"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".

"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.

"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.

"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.

"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".

He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.

"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".

"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.

"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.

"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.

"Oh, you see-".

"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.

"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"

"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".

"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.

"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.

"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.

"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".

"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".

"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.

"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".

"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.

"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.

"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.

"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".

Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.

"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.

"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".

"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"

"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"

"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.

"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"

"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.

"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.

"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".

"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".

"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".

The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.

"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".

"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.

"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".

He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.

"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope you guys liked this one!

[eupheme]

fallout masterlist

cooper howard x reader

[screenshots] | [wallpapers]

— into the fire | series | 21k | complete

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.” His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(When you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

— mine, all mine | request | 4.4k

Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

— yours, all yours | request | 2.3k

Cooper can’t help the bark of a laugh when he realizes, disbelief woven into the sound that spills from him.

Goddamn. His little wastelander might just be jealous.

— drinkin’ in sunshine | request | 1.8k

You find yourself having to rethink your strategy, when you’re suddenly struck with feeling for the man you’re supposed to be hunting down.

— he’s a demon, he’s a devil | request | 850 words

the ghoul + cockwarming

— good rocking tonight | request | 1.5k

“You don’t know nothin’, sweetheart.” His eyes burn into yours, “But you can try. Go on, let’s see what you got.” | sub!cooper vibes + riding

cooper howard x lucy maclean

medieval!au | western!au

— keep a knockin’ (but you can’t come in) | 1.1k | ao3

“What did you just say?” It’s snarled out. Not too far from the sounds of the ghouls he just cleared.

“I said you were no Cooper-”

“No Cooper Howard. That’s what I thought,” He snarls, finishing for her - voice as deadly as a bullet, “And what the fuck do you know about him?”

— i can dream, can’t i? | one-shot | 1.4k | ao3

Lucy had grown up dreaming about Cooper Howard. She’s not sure why. How her mind can piece things together. Little snippets that feel real, flickering in the swirl of ordinary dreams. | soulmate!au

— don’t let the stars get in your eyes | one-shot | 3.3k | ao3

Can’t say he ever expected this. He hadn’t been with anyone since before, those memories long tucked away. Old wounds, those faded scars still healing.

And yet here she is, pretty little Lucy MacLean, crawlin’ into his lap & practically begging him to make her come.

john hancock x reader

— whole lotta shakin’ going on | one-shot | 5.8k

It’s a dangerous thing to have feelings for the person you’re traveling with. Too much can go wrong in an instant and yet, here they are. Steadfastly ignoring the something that’s been building, thick enough to taste. 

Luckily, an incoming rad storm might just be the push they need. 

— a good, good neighbor | request | 2.8k

when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you

edward deegan x reader

— only you (and you alone) | request | 800 words

an exploration of deegan's feelings towards sole!reader

[anticapitalistclown]

clownie can i request some lookism men fav positions

add Gun if you don't mind ty~

Sure!

asked a friend who doesn't watch lookism to choose 4 men so we have this (she chose Beolgu at first lmao) (James girlies you're only lucky she has chosen him bc she's a GD stan)

Gun, James, Jake, Vasco and Vin Jin favorite positions, smut headcanons

Jong Gun: doggy style

He is a vicious man that would never reject any way of sex, he says he has no favorites, yet you always find yourself on all fours, his grip forcing you to exaggerate the arch; sometimes with your face against the pillow and his hand grabbing the back of your neck if you're tired.

There's something about watching the curve of your back, how your ass slaps against his pelvis, how his dick gets shallowed inside you that gets him all riled up. With this position he always finds that spot.

If you turn your face to see him with your cute eyes and that expression covered in pleasure, man has to pray in order to not cum right at the spot.

James Lee: missionary

The old missionary is his favorite, it allows him to take control of you and his pace, and gives him the chance to show adoration of your body.

He loves kissing you while having you in a mating press, your legs spread being held by him, his pace being monstrously and toe-curling satisfying, your brain already melted while he praises you between kisses.

You know he loves being on top of you, how tiny you feel under him, and you always see that exited look he gives every time he is inside you, how his eyes secretly travel down to see how you're taking him, how he makes that bulge on your stomach, that sight makes him harder if it could even be possible.

Jake Kim: cowgirl

He is not someone who thinks much of sex, so at first he just did the classic postures, old missionary and not much more than that... Yet, the day you just got on top of him and rode it like a champ, you changed his whole perspective.

He loves when you take control, how you use him for your pleasure, the way your body moves on top of him, if it were for him, you could use him all day. His grip on your hips is strong, Jake always helps you to continue for a bit more, encouraging you with words of praise.

Although you're on control, keeping a man like him still would need some chains, he can't help but kiss you, having his hands teasing you or holding at your hips, helping you set with a harder pace.

Vasco (Euntae Lee): spooning

Like Jake, he just isn't someone who thinks much of sex, Euntae just follows the basic and instinctive, the position is the last he thinks of while making love to you. Yet he would be lying if he said nothing comes up to his mind when a favorite position is asked, there's something about spooning that makes him hornier.

Maybe it's because of the intimacy and the romance it holds, how his hands cup every erogenous part of your body, how his lips kiss your neck and feel your moans, how you tangle your legs with his and when he places his hand on your lower stomach feeling himself inside you, he just loves the access he has on your body.

While making love to you, he also likes when you command him to touch you, both praising each other, showing how much appreciation you have for one another. After you both reach your high, he stays in the position, cuddling you with care.

Vin Jin: full nelson

He might show a rude appearance, yet, on the intimacy he was a bit scared of hurting you, that lasted until you both got more confident with sex. You knew he is strong and has knowledge and experience with wrestling so you just got the idea of trying a position

A position he LOVES, he loves showing you his strength, he loves having you crushed in his arms, he loves pleasuring you and most important, the fucked up face you make when you become too overstimulated.

It's not really a position you both usually do, he rather prefers to keep it for special occasions, especially when you don't have anything to do for the next days so you can recover.

[yelena-bellova]

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

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+

A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙

As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘

—————

December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.

Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.

Time healed nothing.

If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.

Time healed absolutely nothing.

Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.

“Who the hell are you?”

Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.

Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.

“And the gun.”

The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.

“And you?”

Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.

Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”

She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.

“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”

Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.

“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”

Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”

Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”

Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.

“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.

“A bit.”

Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.

“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.

Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.

Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.

“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.

“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”

Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.

Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.

“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”

“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.

Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”

“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.

“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”

Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”

“Nope,” Marlon answered.

“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.

Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”

“There are firefly people?”

Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”

Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.

“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.

“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.

Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”

They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.

Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.

“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”

Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“

Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.

Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”

“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.

Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”

Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”

“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”

“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“

That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.

“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”

Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.

Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.

“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”

Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.

“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”

She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.

The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…

Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.

The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.

In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.

Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.

In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.

—————————

In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.

Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.

Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.

Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.

“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”

“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.

“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.

Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”

Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”

“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.

“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”

For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.

And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.

“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”

Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.

“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”

“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.

“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”

The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.

“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”

Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?

Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…

Her dreams were dead.

“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”

Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.

Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”

Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”

“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”

Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.

“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.

Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”

“Tried what?” Y/n asked.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”

Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.

Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.

Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”

Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.

“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”

Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.

Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.

Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.

“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.

“What about him?” Joel asked.

“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”

Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”

Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”

Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.

“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.

Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.

But how long could he keep her like that?

—————————

Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.

A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.

The gun was gone.

This was it. His grand failure.

He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”

“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”

“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”

Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”

All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.

Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.

“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”

Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.

Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.

—————————

Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.

Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”

Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.

“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”

Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.

“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”

Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.

Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”

“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”

Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.

“Dam,” Ellie punned.

“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”

He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.

“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”

The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.

“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”

Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”

The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.

“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.

“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.

A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.

“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.

At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie’s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.

“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.

Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.

“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”

“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.

“How about you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”

Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.

“You been near any Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.

“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.

The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?

“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”

But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.

Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…

Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-

Ellie giggled.

Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.

The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”

“Ho!”

The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”

“Joel,” he answered.

“Y/n.”

The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.

Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.

The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.

Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.

“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.

Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.

“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.

They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.

It was a town. A proper fucking town.

Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.

Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.

Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.

“Tommy,” he shouted.

Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.

Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.

Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.

Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.

Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.

Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.

As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.

“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.

Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.

“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”

Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.

If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.

Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.

Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.

“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”

The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.

Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.

Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.

Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…

Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”

Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.

“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.

“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.

“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”

Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”

“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.

“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.

“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.

The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.

Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”

Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.

“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”

“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”

It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.

It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.

“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.

They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.

“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.

“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”

“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.

“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”

“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.

If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.

Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.

“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

”So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”

Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.

“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.

Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.

Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.

“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”

“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”

Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.

Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.

Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.

The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”

Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.

“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”

“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”

Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.

“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.

Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.

“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”

The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”

“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.

All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-

Her heart stopped.

Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.

Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.

Sarah’s name decided her fate.

And she crumbled.

—————————

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.

“Joel, you l-“

“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.

“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”

Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.

“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.

Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…

—————————

September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

Cordyceps.

It was the only word people were capable of saying.

Cordyceps.

One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.

Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.

Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.

Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.

She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.

Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.

“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”

Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.

“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”

Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.

And Joel was slipping away by the second.

“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.

Nothing.

“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”

Joel stared forward, motionless.

Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.

“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“

“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”

Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.

Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.

“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“

Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”

Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.

As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”

If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.

He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”

Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”

“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.

“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.

“NO!”

Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.

“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”

Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”

Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.

“You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”

“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.

Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.

Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?

Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.

“I’m done.”

Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”

Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”

The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.

“Joel-“

“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“

Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“

“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”

Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“

Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”

“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”

Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.

Nearly.

Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”

If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.

Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.

The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.

Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.

“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”

“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.

“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”

Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.

“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“

“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.

Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.

“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.

Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.

“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.

Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.

Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”

Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.

Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.

“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”

Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.

Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”

Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.

He pressed down on the gas pedal.

“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.

“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”

The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.

Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.

She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”

Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.

That was when she fell apart.

She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.

Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.

“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.

Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.

There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.

Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”

Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”

A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.

—————————

“I’m gonna be a father.”

Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”

Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.

—————————

“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”

Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.

“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.

Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.

Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…

—————————

Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…

Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…

And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.

He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…

It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.

Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.

He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-

A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.

Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.

It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.

—————————

Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.

Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”

“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.

She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”

Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”

Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.

“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.

Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.

Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”

“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”

Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.

“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”

“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”

Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.

Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.

“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.

“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.

“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.

Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”

It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.

“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.

In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.

“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”

“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”

Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”

Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”

“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.

The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.

“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”

Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.

“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”

“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”

Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.

“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”

Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”

“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“

“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.

“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”

Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.

“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.

“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”

Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”

Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.

“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - II

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader

— word count: +1,820.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 2

You were afraid.

In fact, you felt mixed emotions. Fear, dread, horror, terror.

You didn't know why the hell you were in an old military camp, let alone why you were facing one of the greatest conquerors in history. Nothing that was happening made sense and your mind tried to look for logical answers, but it was in vain.

Because nothing that was in front of you was logical.

Maybe it was a really bizarre dream, maybe you were high or drunk, but you knew better. It was real and very real.

Nothing made sense and you felt like crying and going to your mother's lap for comfort but you couldn't do that. Not while you were being held by a scarred man and the others were staring at you with curiosity and... disdain? You couldn't tell.

How did you end up there? It was your first question. Your last memory was of you in your room, reading a book about the conqueror and falling asleep. Was that book cursed? No, that was not possible. But it will be? It seemed like the only acceptable option considering the fact that you were over 2,000 years in the past.

Fuck.

You took a deep breath, trying at all costs to avoid the urge to scream and cry. That wouldn't be acceptable to do now, you needed to stay calm and try to find a solution.

''Can you speak greek?'' You blinked in surprise when one of the men addressed you. It was the one who was next to Alexander. You glanced at him lightly, why he looked familiar?

''Hephaestion, I don't think she's fine or that she even understands what we're talking about.'' One of the slightly tall men spoke up. You shifted your gaze to him when you heard him say the name.

Hephaestion.

Oh, oh.

''It doesn't hurt to ask, Ptolemy.'' Another man said. You looked at him and blushed a little. He was handsome, maybe not by 21st century beauty standards, but he was attractive. Blonde hair and dark blue eyes.

And Ptolemy? Like in Ptolemy I Soter of the Ptolemaic Dynasty?

''She could be a spy sent by the persians. I mean, just look at the way she's dressed.'' The man with dark brown hair and green eyes said, looking you up and down with disdain.

You glared at him, daring him to say one more thing about your pajamas. Yes, it wasn't the kind of clothes they wore but it suited you it was comfortable and the print had kittens!

Adorable.

But the man held your gaze and you shuddered slightly as you noted their intensity.

''Look at the way she's dressed, friends. She clearly is a whore.'' One of the men said, looking at your breasts shamelessly.

If you weren't trapped in another man's arms, you would have kicked ass.

''Whore is my hand in your face if you say another word!'' The words came out before you could stop yourself and everyone looked at you in shock and you felt like slapping yourself.

You could have feigned madness, claimed amnesia or that you couldn't speak greek and, you really didn't, but apparently the ''magic'' that brought you to this place decided not to screw you around so much.

''She has spirit!'' The man holding you laughed and you glared at him.

Finally, Alexander decided to say something.

''Bring her to my tent. I want you all there.'' Were his only words and he turned his back on you without another word, with Hephaestion following, but not before giving you one last look.

You gasped as you began to be dragged towards what appeared to be the King's tent. Several people in the camp watched you curiously as you were led away and followed by the other generals.

You were so fucked up and not the way you liked it.

Alexander didn't know what to do with himself at that moment. He didn't understand what was going on and he hated it.

There were so many questions in the King's mind and none of them were answered. But the most puzzling of them was why he felt awkward around you.

Alexander felt an unknown feeling and what it attracted to you. How a stallion was attracted to a mare in heat. Not that he was thinking about sleeping with you, no, it wasn't that but he felt weird.

It was like he already knew you and that bothered him a lot. You had never seen each other, he was sure of that, but then why did he feel that way?

He needed answers and fast. He looked at his best friend who was looking at him with concern.

''Are you alright, Alexander?'' Hephaestion's soft and warm voice rang out and the friend touched his shoulder to try to calm him down.

''I'm fine, just tired.'' He lied quickly and something told him that Hephaestion didn't believe his words.

But there was no time for questions, not when the mystery woman was led into his tent, surrounded by the curious generals. Alexander frowned, but held the pose.

He looked right at her and his mind filled with disturbing thoughts.

She was the strangest woman he had ever met in his life. She was beautiful, albeit in a different way, but what really drew him to her was the fear in her eyes, the kind of genuine dread he had only ever seen in the eyes of his enemies. And the way she was dressed… He had never seen such clothes, even in Persia.

And that attracted him.

Alexander cleared his throat before asking the question that had been on her mind since he met her, ''Who are you and what are you doing in my camp?'' The King's voice was serious and authoritative and he could have sworn he saw her shudder.

The young woman opened her mouth to speak, but stopped and closed it again, avoiding Alexander's piercing gaze. It made him uncomfortable, but he could not and would not show weakness in front of anyone, let alone in front of his generals and a complete stranger.

He watched her for a few seconds and realized what made her sulk, the fact that she was still being held by Cleitus the Black.

''Let her go.'' It was a simple command but the general obeyed instantly. Alexander smiled a little when he noticed that the woman's posture visibly relaxed when she was released.

''I'll ask you one more time.'' Alexander said and moved a little closer to the woman, ''And I suggest you answer.''

She just stared at him as if she was seeing a god in front of her. Well, maybe he was a god.

''Who are you and what are you doing in my camp?''

''I'm (Y/N) and I don't know how I came to be in your camp.'' She finally said it in a low voice but he could hear it loud and clear.

Alexander was stunned. (Y/N)... A name he had never heard in his life and yet it seemed to suit this woman. And when he was finally able to hear her voice again, the King found himself wishing he could hear her speak more often. She was so strange yet so endearing and Alexander found himself wanting to know everything about her and he would.

He was the King, after all, and he always got what he wanted.

"It's an unusual name. What it means?''

She shrugged, ''I don't know. I never tried to find out.''

She was so insolent and disrespectful. Did she not know who she was talking to?

A laugh was heard and Alexander glared at Nearchus, who stopped laughing at the same moment.

''Where are you from?'' Alexander asked, looking at her curiously. He had decided that she wasn't a threat, she seemed too stupid to be a threat anyway.

She thought for a moment and smiled. Alexander felt his heart skip a beat when she smiled at him.

''Uh…I come from a very, it's... a distant place.'' She said between pauses.

Alexander scoffed. She was a terrible liar, and he felt like laughing when she looked insulted when he scoffed.

''And where is this place so far away?'' He insisted.

(Y/N) glared at him.

''As far away as you could tell.''

''The name?''

If she looked angry before, she looked furious now.

''You would not understand. It's not your language.''

''Really?'' Alexander thought, ''And how come you speak my language so well?''

She paled, but recovered very quickly.

''I studied.''

Alexander hummed and decided to stop questioning her. For now. She looked tired and scared, from what he could read from her body language and something inside him told him not to disturb her anymore.

''Call the servants. Give her a tent, clothes and food.''

All of her generals looked perplexed, even Hephaestion.

Even the woman, (Y/N), looked confused.

In fact, he didn't even know why he was doing this, but he needed to make sure she was going to be alright.

It was a need that screamed inside him. The need to protect her and he didn't know why.

He needed to find out about her. Who was she, where did she come from, everything.

You were taken to a tent away from the camp and left alone.

You looked around curiously. It was a small tent but it had a small bed, which you recognized as a cot, and some candles. It was just that.

You wondered if you could freak out now, but it wasn't feasible. No, everyone could hear it and it would get you in more trouble than you already were.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You started to feel the tears in your eyes. You wanted to cry and scream and cry some more. But you couldn't. Not when you were in such a vulnerable position and you were scared.

So scared.

You were scared of everything. Fear of being tortured, dying and being abused. You noticed some soldiers looking at you with lust and it scared you so much. What would stop them from making you a booty? A toy?

Nothing.

And it was so desperate.

You sat down on the small cot and finally allowed yourself to cry, the hot tears running down your face, as you sobbed and contained your screams of frustration.

You didn't even notice the servant entering your tent and placing a plate of food beside you or the clothes that were brought for you. You didn't notice because you were so desperate and you were sinking in your fear and despair.

You needed to go. You needed to go back to the 21st century.

And you had no idea how to do it.

And just that thought made you cry even harder.

— lady l: I was going to post it tomorrow but I got some time and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer so finally chapter 2 is here. I hope you enjoyed it, what did you think of Y/n's first interaction with Alexander and some generals? Feel free to give me your opinion. I love you all and until the next chapter!! ❤️

[aikatoru]

Summer Lovin’

Shanks x AFAB reader smut

Warnings: Dry humping, age difference, reader is aged up, foreplay, teasing, kissing, touching, flirting.

Word Count: 685 words

Summary:

You always did have a crush on your dad’s best friend. Shanks was always coming over, you’ve seen him plenty of times around the house. What happens when your parents leaves the two of you alone in the house? Will your plans to seduce him work?

(This is a repost from my old account @/fuyuaika)

Dividers by @/benkeibear

I love seeing you in sundresses,” Shanks said smiling at you.

It was meant to be an innocent compliment, he was your father’s best friend, he was like an Uncle to you.

So how did you end up on top of him grinding your soaked pussy onto the growing tent in his pants? Well, you always did have a crush on the older gentleman.

And when you came down in your little sundress, purposefully bending down to tie your shoelaces so that your dress would ride up in front of him showing him your lack of panties and exposing your bare cunt to his eyes, how was a man supposed to resist?

Especially to a good little girl who’s so willing to spread her legs for him.

Taking long strides, he picked you up easily and brought you to your room, throwing you on the bed and making sure to lock the door behind him. He climbed on top of you and wasted no time in ravaging you. His lips met yours in a frenzy, tongue sliding across your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you gladly granted, hungry for more of his taste.

Large, callous hands travelled up and down your curves, pulling down the straps of your dress to expose your laced bra.

He broke the kiss to look down at your chest, “Damn baby, so pretty…but I think you’ll look prettier without the bra.”

Expert fingers went round your back to unclasp your bra and pull them off, exposing your heaving breasts to his hungry eyes.

You mewled when he grabbed your breasts in his hands, molding them and pulling on the nipples, “Fuck, how’d they get so big? Have you been playing with them baby?”

You nodded your head and he smirked, “Naughty girl, has any guy done this before besides me?”

You shook you head, “No, Uncle Shanks, you’re my first.”

He groaned at the way you answered him oh so innocently, “Got me all hard in my pants baby, mind sitting on it?”

You nodded your head and he flips you over so you’d be on top straddling him.

You bit your lip as you started grinding, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he watched you move on top of him, your juices staining his pants but he didn’t mind, not when he could see you enjoy yourself like this.

Eventually your pace starts to falter as you get overcome with exhaustion but you continued grinding unevenly desperate to get him off, he chuckled at your attempts and he stills your hips with his hands.

“It’s ok baby, let me,” He said before thrusting up into you, making you gasped as you grab onto him tightly. The material of his pants stimulating your pussy with every thrust.

As if that wasn’t enough, his fingers found their way to your clit and started rubbing furiously, causing you to moan and squirm.

“Uncle Shanks too much!” You cried out, finger nails clawing onto his back.

“Shhh…baby, call me daddy.”

“Daddy! Too much! Need to go! Am gonna pee!” You say struggling in his hold, trying to get off him but he kept you in place with his strong arms.

“It’s ok baby, just let it all out,” he said as you cry out with your orgasm, letting out more juices and wetting his pants.

You breathed hard as you came down from your high, slumping against his hard chest as he pats your hair and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how good you were, how he was so proud of you.

After you’ve calmed down he patted your thigh gently asking you to climb off him, but you didn’t budge.

“Come on now baby, time to get off.”

“No,” you replied looking down.

“Why not sweetheart?” He asked patiently,

You looked up at him with your big doe eyes, “Cause daddy’s still hard.”

And he gasped when you slid your hand down his pants to palm his cock.

He sighs, an amused smile making its way to his lips, “Naughty girl.”