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kckt88 · 4 months

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Don't Mess with My Mind.

Summary:

When you first got into a relationship with Aegon, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. But when you catch him in bed with your best friend, it’s his younger brother Aemond who comforts you, at first you think you can go back to normal, but no matter how hard you try you cannot forget how Aemond made you feel that night and soon the two of you embark upon a passionate all-consuming affair that ultimately leads to life changing consequences.

Warning(s): Angst, Hurt, Comfort, Alcohol Consumption, Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex.

Word Count: 3670.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N

Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin,

The door slammed behind Y/N as she ran out of the building, the tears streaming down her face.

How could Aegon betray her like this? She thought he loved her. He’d told her enough times.

Y/N came to a stop near the car park and sagged against the stone wall, the sounds of Aegon fucking her best friend still ringing in her ears.

That absolute piece of shit, he’d even text her earlier in the day inviting her over to spend the night only for him to get caught with his pants down, literally.

Everyone warned her that Aegon was no good, but she wouldn’t listen, she foolishly believed that she would be the one who could tame him, oh how wrong she was.

The guy was a massive prick, Sara was welcome to him.

Let her be the one to put up with his drinking habits, the temper tantrums, and his disgustingly long toenails.

The only good thing about him was his nice-ish cock, no surprises there as he obviously got plenty of practice, Y/N wondered if Sara was the only one or were there others that he was also seeing, gods it made her feel sick.

Suddenly the glare of approaching headlights made Y/N wince as she raised a hand to shield her face.

Y/N looked up and saw Aemond getting out of his car with a tall dark-haired woman.

The woman began giggling as Aemond bent down and whispered in her ear, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they began walking towards the entrance to the block of flats.

“Hey Y/N-what are you doing out here by yourself?” asked Aemond as he noticed her shaking form huddled against the wall.

“I-I just came to see A-Aegon and I caught him in bed with Sara” replied Y/N.

“Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend?” mused Aemond as he removed his arm from the dark-haired woman who Y/N remembered was called Alys.

“Not anymore” quipped Y/N.

“Aemy, can’t we go inside it’s getting cold” whined Alys, looking bored as she examined her red painted nails.

“In a minute” replied Aemond.

Alys narrowed her green eyes at Y/N and gently took hold of Aemond’s arm, only to be immediately shrugged off.

“Aemond-“ muttered Alys through gritted teeth.

“I think it’s for the best that you leave” urged Aemond, never taking his eye off Y/N as he opened his wallet and pressed some money into Alys’ palm.

“What?” gasped Alys as she closed her fingers around the notes Aemond had given her.

“Money for a taxi-I’ll call you tomorrow” urged Aemond waving his hand at Alys dismissively.

“Aemy baby-I thought we was-“ said Alys her voice low and saccharine.

“I said fuck off Alys” snapped Aemond.

“Fine. Your loss” retorted Alys as she spun on her high heels and stormed off.

Aemond watched with mild disinterest as Alys disappeared round the corner.

“You didn’t need to send her away” muttered Y/N.

“If I’m honest you did me a favour, I shouldn’t have brought her here the first place, as always she treats me like shit, then begs me to forgive her-“

“-So why did you-you know bring her here?” asked Y/N.

“Truthfully-I wanted sex, and it’s much easier than going to some dingy shit hole and putting in the effort to chat up some random that I can’t stand beyond my need to come”.

“Makes sense I suppose” muttered Y/N.

“Now tell me everything” urged Aemond as he took out a cigarette and quickly lit it.

Aemond smoked as he listened to Y/N, and as she spoke, he couldn’t help but notice how sweet she looked, her cheeks tinged pink and her plump juicy lips that would look great around his-

“-And that’s when I found them in bed together” muttered Y/N.

Aemond reached forward and gently brushed the stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“If you really want to get back at Aegon, play him at his own game” whispered Aemond as he discarded his cigarette, crushing the dock end under his boot.

“H-How?” asked Y/N wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Fuck someone else, I mean do you really wanna be out here crying over his pathetic arse or do you want to show him that you don’t give a shit?” said Aemond.

“I guess-but I haven’t got that many friends, so I don’t know who would-” sniffed Y/N.

An opportunity to get one over on his cunt of a brother had never so gloriously presented itself before, and of course he was going to seize his chance, she was ripe for the picking, and he was going to devour her.

“-I’m more than willing to help you-if you ask nicely” muttered Aemond as he leaned forward and braced both hands on the wall beside her head.

His warm breath tickled her skin as he slowly ran his aquiline nose slowly up her cheek.

Y/N closed her eyes sighed, despite being with Aegon she had always found Aemond rather attractive, and despite her initial reservations surrounding his offer, she realised she would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.

If Aegon could fuck her so called best friend, then she would fuck his brother.

“P-please” whispered Y/N as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her ear lobe.

“Oh, sweet girl-I know you can do better than that” whispered Aemond as reached down and slid his fingers past the waistband of her leggings.

“A-Aemond, please-I-I need you” moaned Y/N when she felt Aemond’s long fingers teasing her folds.

“Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget my brother’s name”.

Aemond pressed a finger to hips lips as he led Y/N through the flat he shared with Aegon, all the lights were off and everything was silent, no doubt his twat of a brother had fallen asleep.

Y/N eyed Aegon’s bedroom door nervously but she followed Aemond into his room, noticing how clean and organized it was compared to his brothers who in all honesty was a bit of a slob.

Aemond quietly shut the door, the lock sliding into place with a soft click.

“Last chance to back out baby” whispered Aemond as he crowded Y/N against his bedroom door.

Y/N shook her head as she pressed forward and claimed his lips with her own.

The kiss was filthy, it was depraved-gods it was fucking amazing. Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his tips as Y/N’s tongue slid against his.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y/N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y/N whimpers, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slots himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y/N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his jeans.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y/N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, sweet girl you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to his bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y/N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tasted delicious.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on women, something his past partners never complained about, but nothing compared to Y/N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y/N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y/N to her peak.

Y/N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y/N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen,

Y/N looks at Aemond and her eyes widen, he was bigger than Aegon significantly so, his cock hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“Don’t worry little mouse-it will fit” whispered Aemond as he presses his lips against Y/N’s in a heated kiss.

Aemond takes himself in his hand and guides his hard cock to Y/N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give her a moment to adapt to his size.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“I thought you said you were going to fuck me hard?” questioned Y/N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and slams into Y/N hard, smiling as she let’s out a yelp of surprise.

The pace he sets is brutal, his hips slapping against hers.

Y/N moans desperately, as she moves her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y/N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock even deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels, Am I better than my brother” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes your so much better than him,”

Y/N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her, the headboard banging against the wall from the force of his movements.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y/N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y/N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Y/N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he slams into Y/N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y/N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y/N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y/N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.

Aemond laid down on the bed and pulled Y/N to him.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y/N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y/N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fuck you so many times tonight that you cannot walk tomorrow”.

“Promises, promises” replied Y/N as she ran her tongue over his nipple.

Y/N started at her phone, another text from Aegon begging her to call him.

He seemed oblivious to the fact that she’d seen him in bed with Sara, initially she did think to give him a piece of her mind but then she decided it was for the best that she ignored him, she really couldn’t deal with any of his excuses at the moment.

Not when she’d spent the entire night getting fucked to within an inch her life by Aemond.

Never had she had so many orgasms in one night, the man was an absolute menace.

Aegon had never made her feel this way, he was a rather selfish lover in that respect, but Aemond, he was something else entirely.

He devoted himself into worshipping every inch of her body and boy was she feeling it today.

Every single muscle ached from being contorted into a number of different positions, Aemond had incredible stamina, the way he held her in his arms as he fucked her against the wall or the way he held her hips as she rode him, his cock reaching places that she never knew existed.

Her phone buzzed again and just as she was about to tell Aegon to go fuck himself, she noticed that it was Aemond who had text her.

Gods, Aemond was on his way over, it had barely been twenty-four hours and he was already desperate for her.

But in truth she was just as desperate, she craved him on a whole other level and her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him again.

Soon she heard a knock her door and she took a brief pause before she answered it.

She smiled as she saw Aemond leaning against the wall, dressed head to toe in black, a half-finished cigarette hanging from his delectable mouth.

“Come in” said Y/N as she opened the door wider.

“Don’t worry little mouse, I intend to” replied Aemond as he stubbed his cigarette out and entered her flat.

This was how it was between them, over the next few weeks.

Aemond would come to her flat and fuck her on every available surface, she lived alone so they were free to explore one another for as long as they desired.

Sometimes Aemond would sneak her into his room at the flat he shared with Aegon and have her in every way imaginable.

Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.

Y/N knew she should put Aegon out of his misery and end their relationship, but the things she would do with Aemond were beyond anything she’d ever experienced with his brother, it made her feel wanted.

It was passionate and all consuming, Aemond was like her own personal drug, she was addicted to him, and she had no remorse about indulging in her habit.

Aemond had invaded every single part of her mind, body and soul.

Even when she was at work, she would find herself reminiscing over their time together, how he sounded when she sunk to her knees and took his cock in her mouth or the way his muscles would tense as he thrust inside her.

She also loved his dominate streak, he would tie her up and blindfold her, as he devoured her cunt, or he would spank her as he fucked her from behind.

Later that day Aemond had picked her up from work and took her back to his flat, after he’d stripped her of her clothes he’d slid down her body, spreading her thighs further apart, so he could get a good look at his sought-after prize.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue up Y/N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y/N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it. Let me hear you”.

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please”

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y/N

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck"

Y/N was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that surely Aegon would hear.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me” moaned Aemond.

Gods he was so hard, it was almost painful.

Finally, he felt Y/N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Her back arched taut as a bow, and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at her whilst she came. Soon her tense body went slack and pliant.

“I need you NOW!!”

Aemond couldn't wait any longer. He surged up and ploughed his hard cock into Y/N’s soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" shouted Y/N, her eyes popping open from her post-orgasm haze.

"You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y/N, her tone bordering on desperate as she thrust her hips upward towards his.

Aemond chuckled and bit down lightly on a nipple, making Y/N moan and squirm.

He started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his her squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Y/N.

"Patience" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up her neck.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y/N.

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.

“Gods" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Y/N "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Make me scream, make me come”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y/N was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Y/N wanted faster, and he was going much faster now; so much for having the control in the situation. His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from Y/N’s luscious lips.

Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Y/N was meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y/N; not caring if Aegon would hear them.

Y/N always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her skin shining with sweat.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside Y/N’s wet heat.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.

Y/N was laid underneath him completely blissed out; their sweaty bodies pressed together.

“Mine” whispered Aemond in his post orgasm haze.

Y/N hummed as Aemond pulled his softened cock from her and flopped down onto the bed beside her.

Aemond placed his hand on her stomach and sighed contentedly as his fingers drew patterns on her skin.

Y/N closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft sheets, laying with Aemond after sex was always nice, he would often pull her body to his and bury his nose in her hair, or he would haul her over his body, so she was practically laid on top of him.

Aemond seemed to like he closeness and if Y/N was honest she didn’t mind it either, Aegon was never much of a cuddler after sex, he just kind of rolled off her and went to sleep.

As her eyes began to drop, Y/N realised that she needed to officially end her relationship with Aegon, he still kept trying to call and text her, even Sara had tried the cheeky bitch. However, it still baffled Y/N that Aegon would even think that they were still together, especially after she’d been ghosting him for the last few weeks.

Y/N did wonder what Aegon’s reaction would be when he found out that she had been having sex with his brother, but it wasn’t like he could take the moral high ground given what he’d done with Sara.

No doubt he’d throw a hissy fit and try to play the victim like he did in most of the situations he found himself in, but things needed to change, and they never would unless it was her taking the steps to make those changes.

Where Aemond factored into that, Y/N didn’t know as they hadn’t really talked of exploring anything beyond their sexual involvement, it was only when she thought about it that Y/N realised that she wanted more, but she was too anxious to say anything to Aemond just in case he didn’t feel the same way.

But as the saying goes when one thing goes right in your life, another thing will go spectacularly wrong.

A few days later whilst she was at work Y/N was staring at her phone, she’d just got a calendar notification and was horrified to see that her period was long overdue. So, on her lunch break she rushed to the chemist to buy a pregnancy test.

As she returned to work, she hid the box inside her jacket, not wanting anyone to see it.

She bypassed her boss when she returned and sat in the toilets reading the instructions and making sure she peed on the stick properly.

Suddenly a soft knock at the door, distracted her attention from what she was doing.

“Just a second” said Y/N loudly as she held her hand between her legs.

“Boss wants you to stack the new delivery”.

“I said just a second, I’m trying to fucking pee” snapped Y/N.

“Ok but hurry up, you know what he gets like”.

“Fucking pain in the arse” muttered Y/N.

All she wanted was five fucking minutes, sure she should have waited until she got back to her flat to do this, but she couldn’t. She needed to know. Now.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-please” muttered Y/N as she glanced at the ceiling of her bathroom.

Her hands shook as she tightly gripped the pregnancy test. After taking a deep shuddering breath she turned it over.

“Shit” exclaimed Y/N the tears welling in her eyes.

She was pregnant, with Aemond’s baby.

#house of the dragon #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon

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kamwilliamsonn · 11 months

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Stars - Caroline Graham Hansen

Dating Caro wasn't always easy, especially when you played in another country

Your girlfriend, Caro, was your favourite person, there was never any doubt in it, but it wasn't easy, with you playing for Chelsea, and her for Barcelona, you didn't see each other as much as you both would wish.

Which is why Champions League nights were your favourite.

You knew that one of you would end up ruining the others dream at the end of this game, one would continue on, and one would go home.

But that didn't matter, you knew that at the end of the game, you were going back to her house.

Win or lose.

She was your love, your life.

It was no surprise when the plane landed and the Barça player was there to greet you.

"Oh, y/n invited an enemy!" Sam shouted with a teasing grin, your national teammate always taking a chance to annoy you.

You just rolled your eyes at the brunette. "Shut up, Sammy, not everything is about football."

A gasp echoed around your teammates, one you knew wasn't real, causing you to shake your head and run towards your girl.

Her arms opened wide as you jumped into them, your legs wrapping around her waist as her arms supported you.

Your head fell comfortably into the crook of her neck, "Jeg har savnet deg, min kjære." "I've missed you, my love." She mumbles out, putting you down, only to place soft kisses all over your face.

"I've missed you too, so much. Facetime doesn't show the real you. I've missed your face," you started, cupping her face in your hands as she pulled away to look you in the eyes. "I've missed your eyes," you gazed softly into her blue eyes, having completely missed the way they could make you feel like you were floating out at sea. They'd trap you, and you never wanted them to stop. "But God, I've missed your kisses." You pulled her into a passionate kiss, her hands going to hold your waist and pull you in tighter, while your hands moved from her face, into her hair.

It's the hollers from your teammates that cause you both to pull away, but you don't leave her grip. Her arms stay tight around your waist as you spun around in her grip.

Her head rests in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses on the soft part of your neck as your teammates come to join you.

Caro had been the only person to score in the home leg against your beloved blues, a game that was only 4 days earlier, but the way Caro was holding you, would make anybody think it could've been a year.

"God you two are disgustingly cute." Erin said, her accent so strong, Caro couldn't fully understand what she said, but the way you rolled your eyes told her it was teasing.

"You're just jealous you aren't in a relationship, Ez." You told her, making Caro smile and put her head back against your neck to try and hide it.

"Okay, we have to get back to the hotel now, my love, but I'll see you later.." You started, being interrupted by Emma.

She smiled as she got closer to the pair of you. "You can head back to her house, if you'd like, you know that when you're in the same city as Caroline, you don't sit still."

Your girlfriend begins to laugh at you, her face still hidden.

"You shut up." You told her, warningly, making her nod instantly and Sam start laughing instead. A glare from you shut her up as well.

"Okay, so, back to mine, and then I drop you off at the stadium tomorrow." She whispered to you, making you look back at her with a nod, your eyes full of love.

"Okay, my girls, I will see you all tomorrow." You told your teammates as you started to walk backwards, as if the teasing wouldn't happen if you slowly retreat.

That clearly didn't work.

"Don't forget that you're not allowed to do anything before a game!"

"SHUT UP, MILLIE."

After she dropped you both off at the stadium the next day, you didn't fully get a chance to talk to each other, there was a whole lot of media, and training, and then it was warm ups, and the game.

But that didn't mean you weren't sneaking looks at each other, you stared at her with pure love in her eyes as she did her interview, while waiting for your own.

She kept looking at you while you were doing your warm up, and you linked hands with a soft smile while lining up for kick off.

But no words were exchanged, not until the 73' minute the score was 2-1 on aggregate, Guro had scored Chelsea's first goal of the game in the 67' minute, but you were still fishing for that equaliser.

You had the ball at your feet, and you were running, you wanted that goal, and you didn't want to stop for nothing.

But, you don't always get everything you want.

Mapi came in from the side, a tackle that sent you rolling over her, she got the ball, and luckily didn't clip your ankle, but, the way your head hit the floor left it pounding.

You held your head in your hands as you rolled onto your front, you rested it against the floor, trying to make the pain stop.

The whistle was blown instantly, and Mapi was back at your side, apologising over and over again. But that didn't matter when Caro ran over, she was on the other side of the pitch, but the moment she saw you go down, she ran.

She shoved Mapi out of the way, and had it been anybody else, Mapi would have shoved her back, but the way that you cried and held your head made her think she deserved it.

"Hello, my love, can you lift your head for me." She told you as the medics arrived, knowing that you were more likely to do so for her then anybody else.

As you looked up, you almost started crying more, unable to see the girl you loved so much, you couldn't make out her face.

"Hey, come on, don't cry." She told you, being careful as she held your face, the medic checking your pupils.

"That's definitely a concussion. She's going to have fo be subbed off." Your medic spoke, making you cry even more.

"I just wanted to score, Caro, I just wanted to score, I don't wanna be subbed off, I wanna score." You told her. "And I can't see your face. I wanna see your face."

All you were seeing was stars.

But all you wanted to see was your star.

She ran straight over to Jona the moment you were brought off and told him to sub her off or she was gonna get herself a red card so she was forced off.

Claudia came on in her place, and she legged if to the changing rooms. Wanting nothing else but to be there with you.

With her girl.

BOOM, ASKED AND WRITTEN. I actually really liked this, and I think it's brilliant. I hope that you (especially you @wosofie ) enjoyed :))

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #woso community #auswnt #sam kerr #caro graham hansen #caroline graham hansen #barcelona femeni #barcelona #mapi leon #caroline graham hansen x reader #caro x reader #football #kamden writes

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dustydaddyyy · 1 year

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no strings attached | joel miller x fem!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you can't deny there's always been something between you and joel miller. The question is, is either of you going to do something about it?

warnings: swearing, unspecified age gap (reader is her late 20s and joel is canon age) canon-typical descriptions of violence, some good old fashioned pining, fluff, mentions of grief/death, implications of sex/smut, no actual smut, joel is disgustingly gentlemanly, no use of y/n

a/n:…………I know this isn't the next chapter of flashpoint guys, I know. But this has been in my drafts forever and I had some inspiration to finish off the final part. and now here it is, so please enjoy!! don't forget to let me know what you thought through reblog/likes/comments/asks, I love to hear all of your thoughts aka pls interact with my work or my motivation to write shrivels and dies inside

You had never been a fan of cold, which was funny, considering it was cold in Jackson almost all year round. Even the summers were mild, but you still found yourself aching for them every time the winter came around, nights getting longer and the days getting shorter.

You're standing on the main square in Jackson, hands clasped around a steaming mug of something as you look up at the building in front of you, but more specifically, the men standing on the makeshift scaffolding, working on the building. In your other hand you're gripping a large thermos, almost too large for your single grip, but you manage to keep it between your fingers.

They'd been working on the outer façade of the building for the past two weeks, after part of it had collapsed after a particularly rough storm.

There's a presence to your left as your eyes sweep over the scaffolding, and you turn your head to look at Maria as she lets loose a sharp whistle.

"Come have some coffee," she shouts at those working, and you chuckle slightly to yourself as they start to come down.

"Like dogs," you say jokingly, taking a sip of your mug, "Man, I need to learn how to whistle like that,"

"Don't say that to their face," Maria warns you jokingly, "There's much too much ego to go around in that group to take that with any kind of grace,"

You let out another chuckle, shaking your head with a laugh as you look away from her and towards the people walking in your direction. It was a relatively small group, maybe 5 or 6 men, and as they approach, you recognize Eugene's smile.

"Finally came out of your cave, eh?" he asks jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at him as you lift the coffee thermos.

"I'm happy to take this home with me," you inform him, and he laughs, before he extends an arm and pulls you sideways against him, almost spilling your drink.

You'd been in Jackson for 3 years now, having arrived at their large wooden gates early one morning in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, severely hypothermic, dehydrated and covered in injuries. You'd been barely conscious, almost collapsing onto the snow but managing long enough to explain your situation to the guard on patrol, who had been Eugene. You'd come from California, more specifically Santa Barbara, where the Rattlers, a group of militaristic slavers, had pillaged your settlement. You'd barely escaped with your life, and it had been a damn near miracle that you'd managed the two-week trek on foot with nothing but a handgun and a limited supply of bullets. Your only advantage had been that you'd had to walk across large parts of Nevada, the state in which you'd grown up and spent the first 9 years of your life before the world went to shit.

Hence the disdain for cold weather.

"She's cute when she gets all frowny, isn't she?" Eugene jokes again, and you roll your eyes, albeit jokingly.

"Let's see how cute I am when I shove my boot up your ass," you half-threaten, and Eugene lets out a booming laugh as the rest of the men arrive where you'd been standing, and he looks down at you.

"Cute and violent. . . " he muses, before turning to the group with a raised eyebrow, "Any takers?"

"I'm not cattle," you say with a scoff, shrugging him off of you with a sideways shove, before straightening out, "Now you better drink this coffee before I spit in it, Eugene,"

"I hear ya," he says with a chuckle, taking the thermos from you as you move your gaze towards the group of men talking.

You know most of them pretty well, and you watch as they huddle, taking cups from Maria. Only the two at the back are standing a little away from the group, talking to each other animatedly under their breath.

The Miller brothers had been an interesting addition to Jackson.

Tommy had been here when you'd gotten there, but only a few months himself, and it had been nice to talk to someone who hadn't been living in the settlement for years, already. You'd been fast friends, Tommy's open personality and kind heart matching with your own personality well. You'd watched him fall in love with Maria, even been the one standing by his side as a witness when they'd gotten married. Tommy was easy; and open book, you could almost always tell what was going in his head.

Joel, however. . . Joel had been an entirely different story. You'd only been in Jackson 2 years when he'd first arrived. It had been strange, watching as Tommy had reconnected, albeit not smoothly, with someone he'd only ever told you about. You'd heard stories of Joel, though not many, and so when he came to Jackson, you found yourself slightly disappointed by him. He'd been the most regular man you'd ever laid eyes on, not some superhuman killing machine, and together with Ellie, they'd felt like two feral cats waiting to be rehomed.

Then they'd gone again, only coming back a few weeks later, and you'd known something wasn't right. Ellie had been muted, almost a ghost of the person she'd been when she'd first arrived, and Joel had been. . . you hadn't quite managed to put your finger on it at first, but after a few weeks observing him, some things had started to make sense. He'd had a wound, on his left side, which had been stitched horribly and gotten infected, and hadn't been healing right. You'd never been much of a healer, but when you'd first arrived in Jackson the sick bay is where you'd originally been assigned, to work under one of the few doctors in Jackson, and so you'd been in charge of dressing the wound and making sure it healed, despite Joel's vociferous protests.

You hadn't taken it personally, ignoring his cold exterior and treating him the same way you had everyone else, until finally, he began to accept your help, and your tentative friendship. Still, you hadn't managed to put your finger on what had happened to Joel and Ellie, and every time you talked to him, it felt as though he was holding back, keeping something from you, from everyone.

It wasn't until you'd brought a pair of Joel's pants, which you'd found stuffed into a bag under his bed, to the laundry, and you'd cleaned the spatters of blood running up the side of Joel's pant leg that you'd figured it out. Well, about half of it, anyway.

You'd been discreet, washing the blood off the clothes quietly and without attracting attention, before bringing them with you one day when you had to change his dressing, and dumping them out in front of him.

"Explain," you'd said, your voice calm and your gaze open, raising an eyebrow.

He'd been angry with you at first, eyes widening in shock at the idea that you'd been snooping around in his house, but you had paid him no heed and sat patiently in the chair until his anger subsided and he was ready to talk.

You hadn't judged him as he'd spoken, and when Joel had told you everything, all the way from Ellie's immunity down to what had gone down in Salt Lake City, you'd sat in silence for a second, processing, before you'd nodded and moved onto treating his wound.

You hadn't talked about it past that, but Joel's attitude towards you had changed that day; he'd been expecting you to yell and scream at him, to be horrified at what he'd done and the fact that he'd probably doomed all of humanity to hell in one split-second decision, but you hadn't.

"I understand," you'd told him, as you cleaned his wound, "We all do horrible things in the name of love,"

In that moment, in the face of his horrible confession, you were calm, collected and accepting, and it was the first time Joel had felt comfortable around someone in Jackson that hadn't been Ellie or Tommy.

What Joel doesn't know, is that the minute you came home, you had hurled the contents of your stomach into your sink.

You didn't know what you'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that.

Maybe it had been a combination of the cold-blooded violence you knew he'd committed, and the idea of a cure so close within the world's grasp, but it had been such a deeply visceral reaction you were shocked you had managed to keep your face so impassive for the time it took for you to finish treating him.

Then again, you did understand. Joel Miller was not the only one who had committed atrocities for the people he loved; god knows your own hands were far from clean in that regard.

"Hey. . . you still with us?" comes a voice through your thoughts, and you shake yourself out of your mind, eyes moving up to look straight into Joel's.

It had been almost a year since his first admission, and since then, despite your initial reaction, you had found yourself getting closer to Joel. You didn't talk about it, and nothing had ever happened between the two of you, but it didn't take a genius to know something was there. Not acting on it had been a conscious choice from your side, and Joel had just never initiated anything either, which you supposed was in character for him.

"Yeah," you say, blinking a few times as you clear your throat and give him a weak smile, "Just zoned out a little,"

"You look tired," he offers, his eyebrows knitting into a slight frown, "You sleeping okay?"

"Gee, thanks," you let out in a scoff, and he gives you a look as you cover your exhaustion with a chuckle, "I'm sleeping fine, but it's good to know I apparently don't look that way,"

Joel lets out a breath through his nose at your tone, rolling his eyes slightly at your joke. "You ain't funny,"

The truth? Joel was right, you hadn't been sleeping.

You'd always suffered from night terrors as a child, sometimes waking up in all hours of the night screaming and crying and inconsolable for long period of time until your parents would wake you up and snap you out of it. You'd grown out of them, though, or so you thought.

They'd started up again a few months ago, ranging anywhere from waking up in the middle of the night in your bed with tears running down your face, to bouts of stomach-churning sleep paralysis that would leave you so shaken you wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

"Miller!" comes Eugene's voice from your left, "You want some coffee, or do you get your kicks out of chatting up younger women?"

"He's doing it a right sight better than you ever did," you fire back, almost immediately, "So you really shouldn't be saying shit,"

The men around Eugene burst into raucous laughter, and you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth turn up into the hint of a smile as his gaze moves down to his feet for a second, before he clears his throat and looks back up at you.

"Nice," he comments, and you give him a smirk, raising a confident eyebrow and bowing your head.

"Why thank you," you say jokingly, your chest blooming with the compliment, and he shakes his head slightly with a chuckle, before stepping away from you for a second to get some coffee. You watch him go, eyes following him as he pours himself a mug, eyes running over the expanse of his large hands–

You hadn't even noticed Maria coming to stand next to you until she'd cleared her throat, forcing you to look away from Joel hastily and to her. She's giving you a look, raising a single eyebrow as her eyes move between you and him.

"Not a word," you tell her, and purses her lips with a smile, shaking her head.

"Wasn't going to say anything," she muses, and you roll your eyes, before taking a deep breath.

"I think I'm gonna go,"

"Already?" comes Tommy's voice as he steps towards the both of you with a steaming cup in his hand, "You just got here,"

"I did what I came to do," you tell him, before raising a brow, "I ain't got all day,"

Maria's nose crinkles. "Ain't?" she repeats, before raising her eyebrows at you, "Some of that Texan charm rubbing off on you, kiddo?"

"I resent that nickname," you inform her, actively avoiding answering her question, your underlying tone humorous, "As if we aren't only a decade apart,"

"Hmm," Maria hums sarcastically into her cup, "That's a generous definition of decade,"

"You not sleeping well, kiddo? You look tired," Tommy asks, brow creased in concern as he looks at you, and you let out a groan, hands coming up slightly in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, just as Joel steps back towards your group, his ears picking up the tail end of your sentence, "What is it with you Millers? You really tell it like it is, don't you?"

"You look radiant," Maria supplies, and you give her a false, sweet smile.

"Oh, thank you," you half-mutter, before shaking your head with a smile, "But I'm wrecked. . . I worked the double shift for Seth last night and again tomorrow night, so I need to just take a day and sleep,"

"That's fair enough," Tommy says with a grimace, before he gives your shoulder a pet, "Sweet dreams,"

"Thanks," you breathe through a laugh, before you look at Joel with a small smile, "I'll see you later,"

He gives you one of those rare smiles of his own, and it makes his features only more handsome, "See you later,"

Your gaze tears away from him to nod at Maria, who gives you a strangely knowing smile which you ignore, turning on your heel and trudging back through the snow.

Joel had never meant to be standing on your doorstep later that day. Yet, here he was, fingers twitching nervously at his side as he knocks on your door.

He's not even sure you're awake, but it's evening now, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon and darkening the sky, so he guesses you might be. He's holding a plastic bag of groceries; it's nothing much, just some fruit and vegetables and some sausages he'd managed to trade for yesterday because Ellie loved them so much. But Ellie hadn't been in when Joel had got home that afternoon, leaving a note that she was spending the evening with a friend, but would be home for the night. He'd sat in his living room for a few hours, reading and trying to occupy himself, before deciding he didn't want to eat alone, and packing a few things from the fridge into a bag.

And now, here he was.

At your door.

After almost an entire minute of silence, Joel thinks to himself that you're probably still passed out somewhere, and just as he's about to turn and leave, the door flies inward.

The first thing Joel notices is your eyes. They're wet, as if you'd been crying, but somehow still filled with a groggy sleep at the same time. Your chest is moving quickly as your eyes focus on him standing on your doorstep, and some of the concern in your features melts.

"Joel," you let out his name, and your voice small, and tired, before you clear your throat, "Hi,"

"Are you okay?" he asks almost immediately, frowning slightly at your appearance, and he sounds alarmed, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she reassures him, shaking your head slightly, "I was just having a nightmare. . . I'm kind of glad your loud ass knocking woke me,"

You say that last part with a weak chuckle, voice lightening slightly as you try for a smile, "What can I do for you?"

Shit, Joel thinks to himself, and he finds himself rooted to the spot.

"I uh–" he clears his throat, "Ellie isn't in tonight, and, well. . . no one's seen you all day, so I assumed you didn't have any dinner plans,"

"You're not wrong. . . if I have my way it's going to be some stale crackers and cheese," you comment with a grimace.

"Not very nutritious," Joel hums, and you chuckle, nodding, "I'm no chef but I can definitely do better than crackers and cheese,"

Another beat of silence passes, before your eyes go slightly wide and you open the door further. "Sorry, sorry. . . forgot this was the part where I invite you in, I'm still half-asleep. . . come on in, please,"

Joel doesn't need to be asked twice, following you through over threshold of your front door as you disappear down the hall and into the kitchen, back of your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

Joel isn't often in your house; it isn't entirely your own, and he'd heard from Tommy when he'd first gotten here that houses in Jackson were often shared to maximize space. He'd met your housemate, Bonnie, only a handful of times, including most of that handful when he'd fixed the wobbly bannister of your staircase a few months ago.

The house looks different since the last time he's been, and he can't help but notice new paintings hanging on your wall. They're strange, a haphazard mix of colored strokes with no particular pattern or purpose, but they're nice nevertheless.

"Where'd you get those?"

"You want the honest answer?" you ask, as you step out of the kitchen and watch him looking, and Joel frowns jokingly as he looks at you, waiting for you to go on, "Bonnie and I got high last month and painted them,"

Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead. "You what?"

Your smile becomes bashful as you purse your lips, Joel's inquisitive look making you squirm slightly.

"Yeah. . . " you say, clearing your throat with another bashful smile, before you try to shrug it off, "Eugene has–. . . anyways, it doesn't matter,"

You disappear back into the kitchen, and Joel looks back at the paintings, considering the new bit of context you'd supplied him with.

"You want a drink?" you half-holler, and you hear Joel's footsteps enter the kitchen as you reach into one of the cabinets, "I have tea or. . . gin, honestly. I know you're more of a whiskey man, but Bonnie makes it in the basement, and it isn't even half-bad,"

"You make gin in your basement?" Joel asks, and again you hear the same surprise in his voice as earlier, "Do you also run an undercover gambling ring, or. . . ?"

"Oh yeah," you respond, playing along as you step onto your tip toes reach into the back of the cupboard for two clean glasses, "We also occasionally organize cock fights, they're a big hit,"

Joel chuckles, setting the groceries down on your kitchen table, before he notices you struggling.

"Jesus Bonnie," you mutter to yourself, "Why do you always have to put the glasses in the back?"

"Here," Joel says, and he doesn't even think as he steps towards you, arm extending over yours to reach the glasses you're aiming for, the front of his chest brushing up against your shoulder as he grabs them, "I got it,"

The sound of his gravelly voice so close in your ear, and the feeling of his breath on the nape of your neck, makes you fight an urge to shiver, deciding instead to take a deep breath as you swivel around, facing him just as his arm comes down, two glasses clamped between his fingers.

"Thanks," you say with a soft smile as you look up at him, and Joel nods, eyes looking down and resting on yours for a second. You're standing almost face to face, the front of his flannel ghosting your own shirt. Then, he clears his throat, stepping backwards and away from you.

"I'll try some of that gin," he tells you, and your smile widens knowingly.

"I promise you won't go blind," you tell him with a laugh, and then you're on the move around your kitchen again, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out what looks like an old milk bottle filled with clear liquid, "Bonnie's good at it, believe it or not,"

"How do you even start brewing gin?" Joel asks as he sets the glasses down, and you chuckle slightly.

"We went on patrol once, in Grand Teton?" you explain, "She'd been making vodka by then already, but she saw a juniper bush and almost shit herself with excitement. . . it took us an hour to strip the damn thing clean of berries,"

"She a big drinker?" he asks as you unstopper the bottle, before pouring some of the stuff into both glasses, and you shake your head.

"Not more than me," you tell him, "But it keeps her busy, gives her something to do that isn't just patrol, y'know?"

Joel nods silently, before you hold the glass out to him. He takes it from you, ignoring his fingers brushing over yours and the way it makes his heart skip in his chest. You're not done with your drink, reaching into the fridge to grab another bottle, which looks like juice. It's a rich, dark pink color, and the little sticker on the side has a hastily scribbled 'Cherry' in your cursive handwriting.

"Takes the edge off," you say with a sigh as you watch him read the label, and Joel nods, before he takes a sip of his gin.

It's quite pleasant, much smoother than the bootleg Whiskey he used to drink in the QZ, but as it travels down his gullet, it brings with it a burn Joel knows is going to make him regret drinking it, later.

"You weren't wrong," he notes, clearing his throat after having swallowed it down, "That's actually quite pleasant,"

"Right?" you ask, before you take a sip of your own drink. A sip is generous, and before Joel knows it, you've downed the entirety of your glass, frowning for a second as the liquid burns down your throat.

You can tell he wants to open his mouth and say something, but you're grateful he doesn't, instead putting his glass down with a breath and grabbing the bag of groceries.

"Sit," he instructs you, motioning towards the chair at the dining table that's in the middle of the kitchen, and you don't protest, only moving to pour yourself another drink.

It's silent for a moment as he unpacks the vegetables, but after a second, Joel speaks up as he runs the carrots under the tap.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Joel asks, "That the reason you haven't been sleeping? Nightmares?"

Your response isn't immediate, and it's only when Joel looks back at you and sees your expression that he realizes this may be a sensitive topic. You give an uneasy smile, before shaking your head.

"Yeah," you manage to bring out, pursing your lips, "They're nothing too serious, I just wake up and then I can't sleep anymore, don't know why,"

You do know why. You know that sometimes the dreams are so intense, so scary, that you don't dare close your eyes again, at least not by yourself. Sometimes, you'd go downstairs, and crawl into bed with Bonnie. She'd been there, once, waking you from the middle of a dream while you'd been screaming the house down, and she'd not hesitated in taking you downstairs with her to sleep in her bed after you'd confessed to being scared out of your wits of being left alone.

Joel hums, nodding as he turns back towards what he'd been cooking, and you can't tell whether or not he's bought your lie.

"Ellie not home tonight then?" you ask after a second, and Joel nods, clearing his throat as chops some vegetables on one of your two cutting boards.

"She'll be home later," he informs you, "But she's out now, yeah,"

You give an agreeing hum, and for a second there's another silence that weighs heavy in the room.

"Joel," you let out, your voice a half groan, and he hums in question, peering over his shoulder, "The silence is killing me,"

Joel can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as he goes back to dinner, shaking his head with a joking air. "Forgot you couldn't handle that,"

"I really can't," you agree, taking another sip, and Joel chuckles again. You watch the expanse of his shoulders and his back under the denim shirt as they move with his laughter, finding your fingers itching to just reach out and run your hand over the smooth lines of his muscles.

"You're in the wrong company for that then, darlin',"

The nickname jars you out of your thoughts, but it does absolutely nothing to quell the desire that had reared its head in your chest just seconds ago.

"I digress," you declare, trying to distract yourself from staring at him too much, "You're a good conversationalist when you want to be, Miller,"

"I'm so flattered you think so," Joel retorts sarcastically, and you smile into your drink, letting out something that sounds halfway between a giggle and a chuckle.

The sound bounces off the walls of the kitchen, and it makes Joel smile, aware that he's turned away from you and you can't see his reaction to your laugh.

"How was your day?" you ask after a second, your voice exaggerated.

"It was good," Joel says simply, aware that it's making you want to tear your hair out, "Fixin' the barn,"

"That was six words, Joel," you say, voice jokingly incredulous, "This is seriously like pulling teeth,"

Joel chuckles again, shrugging his shoulder, before he turns to look at you, grabbing his glass as he leans against the counter.

"Sounds like you got a decent challenge ahead of you then," he tells you, raising a teasing eyebrow as he takes a sip of his gin, corner of his mouth pulled into what can best be described as a troublemaker smile.

You love this side of Joel. Underneath all the rugged, surly exterior, he has something else to him; a witty remark, a teasing smile, a flirty comment. . .he has more depth to him than you'd ever expected at first glance, and something that spells trouble, something that drives you absolutely crazy.

"Never one to shirk from an honest challenge," you say, raising your own eyebrows, before you clear your throat.

Another silence fills the room as you look at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"Okay," you say in a breath, rolling your eyes, "I guess it's up to me. . .but you actually have to answer some of my questions, okay? You can't just give me a wall of silence," you tell Joel, and he raises a joking eyebrow.

"Wall of silence?" he asks, and you give him a look.

"You know exactly what I mean," you tell him, pressing your lips together in thought, before you give a victorious expression, ". . . in fact, every time you pass on a question you have to drink," Joel chuckles, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest, still leaning against the counter. "I can do that," "Okay. . .what is-. . .," you trail off as your eyes sweep across the kitchen as you think of what to ask Joel, "-your favorite color?' "My favorite color?" Joel repeats, and he gives you a mocking impressed face, "Those keen conversational skills really helping you along aren't they?' "Joel," you warningly, and he sighs, arms uncrossing. "It's green," he tells you, "My favorite color is green. . .what's your favorite color?" "I'm asking the questions!" you say with a small laugh, and Joel gives you a furrowed brow, corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. "Come on, you really think I'm going to let you interrogate me without at least getting to return the favor?" he asks you, eyes boring into yours You press your lips together as you let out a joking scoff through your nose. "Fine, you can ask me questions, too–"

"And If I have to drink when I pass–" he muses, to which you roll your eyes again.

"–so will I," you assure him, before grimacing, "Though with my tolerance, I might not make it to dinner,"

Joel snorts, eyebrows raising slightly in agreement as he turns back to the counter. "You didn't answer my question,"

"My favorite color is yellow," you inform him, and you watch as the back of his head nods.

"That makes sense," you hear him say, as your fingers tap nervously on the table, thinking of what to ask.

"Dream job?" you ask, before adding, "And you can't say contractor,"

Joel is silent for a second. "Farmer,"

You don't say anything, despite your eyebrows raising in surprise, and Joel peers over his shoulder when you stay quiet.

"Favorite season?" he asks, and you smile, giving him a pained look.

"Summer," you say in a groan, and he laughs, shaking his head as he continues chopping, "Which sucks because Jackson mostly has winter,"

"The summers here can be nice," Joel notes, and you let out a breath.

"Sure," you agree, "They can be nice. . . nothing compared to the ones we used to get in Nevada, though,"

"I bet," he notes, and you let out another wistful breath.

"Do you need help?" you ask him, and he shakes his head.

"Think I can manage some dinner,"

"But it'll be faster if I help," you protest, "Come on, I can chop some vegetables, or something,"

"Alright," Joel eventually agrees, and you get to your feet, making your way over to stand next to him, before holding out your hand.

"Put me in chef," you tell him half seriously, but the corners of your mouth are pulled up into that smile.

You're standing close to him, but not so close that you're crowding him. Your smell nevertheless tickles Joel's nostrils in a pleasant way.

Joel's own mouth twitches in mild amusement as he hands you the knife, handle down, and slides the cutting board over. "You chop these, then. . . I'll get started on the onions,"

"Good thing, too," you say with a nod, before getting to work as Joel moves away from you, "Onions make me cry like a baby. . . cutting board is in the third drawer under the stove,"

Joel chuckles as he rummages around for another cutting board and a knife, grabbing an onion from the bag.

"Okay," you hum, nothing but the sound of chopping filling the kitchen, "Any hobbies?"

"I thought you were helping," Joel comments pointedly, and you snort.

"You're not getting away from me that easy," you tell him, "I can help and interrogate, at the same time,"

"That so?" Joel hums as he chops the onions, eyes moving to you for a second and meeting your gaze.

"Yes," you tell him, nodding as a mischievous smile overtakes our features, "I'm a very good multitasker. . . now. . . hobbies,"

Almost the entire bottle and an entire dinner later, you and Joel are sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table, dirty dishes forgotten in the sink. You'd just stood up to reach into the cupboard for another bottle of something to replace the almost empty one on the table, reaching up into the cupboard. The shirt you're wearing rides up as you do, and Joel finds his eyes drawn to the exposed skin of your waist.

"I got one," you declare as you pause from reaching in the cupboard "Any tattoos?"

Joel actually laughs, head tilting back for a minute before he returns with his eyebrows raised but his smile intact. "An old man like me?"

"I'm sure you were young once," you counter with a laugh, and he shakes his head with another chuckle.

"Very funny," he tells you as you pull a bottle of wine from the cupboard, "Where'd that come from?"

"Emergencies," you tell him with a cheeky smile, before pursing your lips, "Or nice dinners,"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Joel tells you, before downing the sip of gin that was still in his glass, and you hum as you come to sit back down.

"It was," you tell him, and when Joel looks at you, you give him an expectant look, "You never answered my question,"

"I have one," Joel says with a sigh, "But I got it when I was drunk, with Tommy. . . it's a stupid one,"

You let out a laugh as you open the bottle of wine. "No way! Where is it?"

"That's two questions," Joel reminds you, and you snort sarcastically, raising a single eyebrow.

"Didn't know we were actually keeping count, Miller," you retort, and Joel just smiles as he shakes his head, before he clears his throat as he sits up a little straighter.

"It's on my thigh," he tells you eventually, and a grin spreads over your face as you shake your head, before pouring him some wine.

"Classic," you say in a laugh, "I bet it was popular,"

"It was," Joel says in a humorous tone, nodding as he watches you pour yourself a drink, "What about you?"

Your eyes look up at him as your put the bottle down, tongue kissing your teeth.

"I do," you say, deliberately not elaborating, and Joel's eyebrows raise a little.

"I shared, darlin', now it's your turn," he tells you, and you laugh a little, teeth chewing into your lip as you look away, maybe a little bashfully.

When you look back at him, you speak. "I have four,"

Joel's eyes go a little wide as he looks at you in surprise. "Four? How come I haven't noticed four tattoos?"

"It's not that many," you defend, before shrugging nonchalantly, "Besides, they're not in places I usually show a lot of people,"

"Like exclusive access?" Joel jokes, and you give a full laugh, head tipping back slightly as your shoulders shake.

"Exactly like exclusive access," you return in between laughs, and for a second, it's just the two of you, sitting in your kitchen, laughing.

It feels almost normal, like you're just two adults, having dinner; no Jackson, no cordyceps, no apocalypse.

You take another sip of wine, eye calculating as you think about your next question.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" you ask him finally, putting down your glass.

Joel thinks about this one, leaning back in his chair, legs parting slightly in such a way that makes you fight the desire in your belly, pressing your legs together slightly as your heartbeat skips slightly. You fight an urge to blush at your own thoughts, chastising yourself for sitting here drooling over a man that's nearly twice your age.

"Yes," he says eventually, nodding, and your mouth parts slightly in disbelief, mouth curling into a teasing smile.

"You believe in love at first sight? You? Ice King Joel Miller believes in love at first sight?"

"Ice king?" Joel asks, raising an eyebrow, "You're giving me a bad rap, darlin',"

"You did that all by yourself," you note, half under your breath, taking a sip of your drink, and he frowns slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, his interest peaked, and something bashful crosses your face.

"Nothing," you say in a nonchalant voice as you pour yourself more wine, the bottle already emptying way faster than you intended it to, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he sits back in his chair again. It's taking a lot of willpower for you not to stare at the way his legs spread or his arms cross, making the biceps under his t-shirt bulge.

"I'm going to try that again," he tells you, and his voice is almost chastising as his eyes pierce yours, "And this time you aren't going to lie to me,"

"Or what?" you ask him, shaking your head with a small smirk, drinking again. You don't know why you challenge him, but you feel some enjoyment at the way Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead in surprise and he kisses his teeth in mild annoyance as you let out a sarcastic chuckle into your glass, "You going to put me over your knee, grandpa?"

"Who says I won't?" Joel retorts swiftly, and he raises a single eyebrow as his eyes bore into yours.

It makes your heart skip, and something about his level, raspy tone sets something alight in your lower belly, which you try desperately to ignore. Joel enjoys the way your eyes flash with surprise and something he thinks he recognizes as lust, but it's gone so fast he can't say it with any certainty.

You're silent as you press your lips together, before you eventually let out a breath. "It's nothing major. . . just a bit of a reputation you have going,"

"As what?" Joel asks, frown deepening, but eyes still alight with curiosity as he scrutinizes your face.

"Emotionally unavailable, I guess?" you supply, and you try your hardest to keep your tone as neutral as possible, despite the knots of unease in your stomach.

Saying it about Joel was one thing; saying it to Joel? Awkward as fuck.

Joel seems to think about that, staying silent as you fight an urge to wring your hands.

"Listen, it's nothing too bad," you tell him, giving him a tense smile, "I mean, it could be worse. . ."

"Worse?" Joel asks you, almost jokingly, and you grimace.

"Eugene's blacklisted for being selfish," you offer, "That's pretty bad,"

"Blacklisted?" Joel lets out in a splutter, putting down his glass with a thunk, "By who?"

You shrug. "Women talk, Joel. . . this is a small community, word gets around,"

Joel seems to consider this, before he reaches over the table and grabs the bottle from where it had been standing in front you.

"And," he says, pouring himself another glass, "Is he?"

"Is who?" you ask, frowning quizzically, and Joel looks up at you as he takes a sip front the glass.

"Eugene," he tells you patiently, eyes curious, "He really selfish?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" you ask him, before you narrow your eyes at him, "You asking me if I've slept with Eugene, Joel?"

Joel stays still for a second, shrugging. "Just wonderin' whether you have any proof to back up these claims,"

"I have plenty of proof," you retort, giving him a look, "He went on a few dates with Jeannie last year and she told me he barely even touched her when they–"

You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut and pressing your lips together, before you shake your head. "We're getting off topic,"

"Off topic?" Joel asks humorously, "I'd say we just got on topic,"

"I'm not talking any more about this," you tell him, but the corners of your mouth pulling up into a smile betray you.

"You can't just bring it up and leave me guessing," Joel replies, and you let out a frustrated breath, "Now I sort of want to know how selfish Eugene is,"

"Didn't have you pegged for a gossip, Miller," you tell him, raising your eyebrows, and he shrugs.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, darlin',"

"Hence the game we were playing,"

"Mmh," Joel hums non-commitally, "Still waiting on that answer,"

"Listen, all I know is that when Bonnie slept with him a few months ago, he didn't reciprocate much. . . apparently it lasted all of 5 minutes and not one was spent on her,"

Joel grimaces, nodding in agreement. "That sounds pretty bad,"

"I told you," you say victoriously, and he chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

"You sound entirely too pleased about it," he comments, and you snort.

"I'm not surprised, is what I am," you inform him, taking a sip of your wine, "Eugene is. . . well, Eugene,"

"You seem pretty close," Joel notes, and you don't know if you hear something else in his voice other than curiosity. You raise a single eyebrow.

"You asking something?" you ask him.

"I'm not asking nothin'," Joel denies, putting his hands up, and you shake your head, corners of your mouth twitching into a smile. Then, you let out a small breath.

"When I first got to Jackson, Eugene's the one that let me in. . . I was a mess. . . hypothermic, covered in blood, barely alive, and for all he knew I could've been part of some elaborate raiding scheme, or infected. He had every reason not to let me in, but he did. . . he's the reason I'm alive," you explain to Joel, before clearing your throat, "Maria was furious with him, which I guess I understand. . . she has her own people to protect. . . but he never let up. He didn't even know me, and he stood up for me when they were still considering throwing me back out,"

"I didn't know that," Joel comments, and you let out a small chuckle.

"You know the old bank building?" you ask, and he nods.

"Maria said it worked as a jail but they'd never used it,"

"Oh, they used it alright," you say with a curt smile, "They hadn't learned to train those nifty dogs yet when I got to Jackson, and I was covered in so many cuts and scrapes they couldn't figure out whether or not I'd been bitten. . . didn't matter what I said. I was in there for two whole weeks while they waited it out, and Eugene came to see me every single day. . . Tommy, too, but it took him a few days before he started showing up. . . he'd only been there a few months himself, and I guess he wasn't keen to step on anybody's toes, which I understood,"

"Jesus," Joel mutters, and you can see the flash of unease in his eyes at the thought of you locked up in one of the makeshift cells of the bank, "Not the warmest welcome,"

"I can't blame them," you remark, raising your shoulders in a half-shrug, "It's a miracle this place has survived as long as it has. . . I would also have been apprehensive,"

"But, to answer your earlier question–" you say, clearing your throat as you sit up straight.

Because we both know what you were really asking.

"–Eugene tried to kiss on me once, and I laughed at him, so safe to say we are friends,"

Joel makes another grimace, trying to hide the pleased expression on his face as best he can, but you can still see it in his eyes. "Nothing like laughter to crush a man's ego,"

"Some egos need crushing," you tell him with a single raised eyebrow, before taking a sip of your drink.

"That's true enough," he agrees, before a silence falls over the two of you. After a second, you let out a breath, looking at the pile of dishes in your sink.

"I better do those before Bonnie comes home," you tell him, getting to your feet, "She has a thing about dishes in the sink,"

Joel gives a rare, knowing smile. "I'll help ya out,"

"Thanks," you say with a small smile as you reach the sink, turning the tap on as Joel comes to stand next to you, "Grab that towel? You're on drying duty,"

"Yes, ma'am," he jokes, grabbing one of the towels hanging off the handle of the cabinet.

"Ok, your turn to ask questions, now," you inform him as you start cleaning off some of the plates, "I'm out of ideas,"

"Alright," he says with a nod, before pausing to think, "You never told me what your tattoos were,"

"Now what did we say about exclusive access?" you retort, turning your head to raise a playful eyebrow at him, and he turns to look at you, corners of his mouth twitching slightly. You're practically standing shoulder to shoulder like this, his arm and leg brushing against yours from time to time, sending shockwaves up your spine.

"You tellin' me I gotta find a way to figure it out for myself?" he asks you, and his tone is lower than it was before as he looks at you, his eyes dancing with humor in the light of the kitchen as you give an innocent shrug, sucking some air between your teeth in a teasing sound, lips pulled into an almost-smile.

"Can't just go around telling everyone, now can I? Kinda defeats the whole 'exclusive' point," you muse, and he lets out something that sounds like a chuckle as he raises his eyebrows, nodding slightly as his tongue runs alongside the inside of his cheek.

Joel is so close to you now, you can smell the gin and wine on his breath. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to, his gaze saying enough for the both of you as it briefly moves from your eyes to the other features on your face, lingering on your lips a second longer. You feel something which you think are his fingertips, ghost the side of your hand, which is resting on the edge of the sink, and you swallow as you look up at him.

"What?" you ask him, quietly, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugs slightly.

"I didn't say anything,"

"You're looking at me," you say pointedly, and Joel's mouth curls into a gentle, but teasing smile.

"Is it illegal to look at a beautiful woman?"

You swallow, hard, your chest thumping underneath your shirt.

"Are you calling me beautiful?" you ask him, and to your surprise, he nods.

"Yes," he says simply, confidently, his breath fanning over your lips, "Is that a problem?"

You're silent for a second, eyes looking into his as he watches your reaction. "No,"

The smile on Joel's mouth widens slightly as he leans closer to you, lips getting closer to your.

"Good," he whispers, before he moves to kiss you.

Except he doesn't.

Joel doesn't kiss you because at the last minute, heart beating furiously against your ribcage, you turn your head slightly to the side. His lips barely brush over the corner of your mouth before Joel freezes, which makes you cringe.

Stupid.

Joel pulls away from you slightly to look at you, and despite the amount of drinks you've had, your heart is beating a million miles per hour as you and Joel stare at each other, embarrassment dawning in his eyes as he pulls away from you more, closing his mouth and swallowing.

It's at that exact moment that you hear the front door swing open.

"Hello? You home, hot-stuff?"

Your eyes widen slightly as Bonnie's voice travels through the house, her nickname for you making your cheeks burn. Joel fully steps away from you now, putting quite a bit of distance between the two of you as he steps away from the sink and the counter, putting the towel down on the counter.

"Joel–" you start as you move away from the counter, but Bonnie's voice interrupts whatever you were going to say.

"I was working in the fucking school all day, and then we had movie night," she continues as her voice gets closer and you try and catch Joel's eye, but he isn't looking at you, "I know everyone loves the kid, but I swear little Johnny Raster is such a little cun– Oh, hello,"

Bonnie is a tall and broad-shouldered woman, and even though she looks relatively imposing to those who don't know her, she happens to be one of the friendliest people in Jackson. That's not to say she takes shit; quite the opposite, really, she has an even lower tolerance for it than you do, and you wouldn't recommend pissing her off. She's standing in the doorway, dark hair pulled into a ponytail behind her head, green eyes observing the scene carefully. "Didn't know we were expecting company,"

"I was just on my way out, actually," Joel says, clearing his throat as he gives a slight, curt smile, "Ellie will have gotten home by now,"

"Yeah, I thought I saw the light at your place," Bonnie tells him, and Joel nods, still not looking your way.

"Right, that's my cue, then," he says, clearing his throat again, demeanour beyond awkward, before he looks up at you very briefly, "Thanks for the drinks. . . good night,"

"Good night, Joel," you say, your voice soft, and you try to disguise the undertone of pity.

You want to explain yourself desperately, but something about the look on Joel's face makes you think that wouldn't go down very well right now, anyway.

He grunts out a 'Bye' to Bonnie as he practically flees out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing down the hall before you hear the distinct noise of the front door opening and closing.

"What's with him?" Bonnie asks, one eyebrow creasing down quizzically crunching her face as steps into the kitchen, "He seems even surlier than usual,"

"Don't know," you say airily, and she directs her scrutinous gaze at you as she picks up the bottle of wine, sniffing it.

"That's a pile of bullshit," she tells you disbelievingly, "What happened?"

You're silent for a minute, before letting out a sigh. "He tried to kiss me,"

"And you didn't want him to. . .?" Bonnie suggests, her tone confused as her sentence hangs in the air, before she frowns slightly, "He's hot,"

"I sort of dodged him," you tell her, grimacing.

"Ouch," Bonnie groans out, sucking some air between her teeth, "Well, that explains it,"

"Yeah," you agree, chewing on your lip, "It was really stupid,"

"I mean you're allowed to say no," Bonnie reassures you, "But did you want to say no?"

"I don't know," you tell her honestly, chewing on your lip as your stomach swirls with conflicting feelings, and she hums.

"Well, you better figure it out fast, hot-stuff," she tells you, putting the glasses in the sink, "Because if we can't call Joel when the banister in the hall acts up again, I'm going to need to learn to be a contractor real quick,"

You don't see Joel at all the next day; not in the town, not at the small market in the square you know he usually goes to on Saturday mornings. You think you spot him working on the scaffolding with the same group as yesterday, but you don't go and investigate, partly out of your own embarrassment, and partly out of respect for the fact that he's probably avoiding you for a reason.

Instead you spend the day cleaning the house, and helping Bonnie with her projects, and before you know it the sky is darkening again and you're on your way to the Tipsy Bison for your shift. You don't mind bartending, and there was no doubt you were a right sight better at it then you were at healing.

The bar is relatively empty when you arrive at 6pm, and doesn't start to fill up until around half past seven, when people typically finish up dinner and the patrons start trickling in. To make matters even more crowded, it's Saturday, and given the Tipsy Bison is the only bar in Jackson, Saturdays are usually the busiest nights of the week. Not that you weren't used to it; when you'd started a year and a half ago, Seth, who ran the place, hadn't hesitated to put you on Saturdays almost immediately, because, to quote "Who doesn't like to be served beer by a pretty girl on their night off?"

The people didn't really bother you, and to be honest, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly, becoming a near expert in warding off any unwanted attention in a graceful way.

"Can I get a whiskey?" comes a familiar voice from behind the bar just as you're filling up a beer, and you look to meet Tommy's kind eyes, your face breaking into a smile.

"Whiskey?" you ask, frowning jokingly as you set the beer down for another patron, "That isn't your usual order,"

Tommy's eyes flash with something that looks like unease, and it takes a second for your eyes to move from Tommy over the bar, eventually falling on the one person you know likes himself a whiskey. Joel is sitting at one of the tables with the rest of the guys, observing your interaction, but when your eyes move towards him, he pretends to busy himself talking to Eugene. Your stomach sinks.

"Ah," you let out, your tone awkward as you look back at Tommy, your smile having dropped from genuine to half-disappointed as your eyes flash with something akin to sadness, "That's because it's not for you,"

Tommy clears his throat. "Look, I told him to just–"

You raise your hand to interrupt him, giving him a small smile as you shake your head. "It's okay, Tommy. . . you don't have to explain anything to me,"

"Right," he says, clearing his throat with an awkward smile as you pour the drink.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him pointedly, and he nods, swallowing.

"Just a beer for me, thanks,"

It takes a second for you to make the drinks, and you strike up a conversation with him as you do. "You guys finished fixing the building yet?"

"Almost," Tommy says with a nod, "Though we missed your usual coffee delivery today,"

"Sorry," you grimace slightly, eyes flicking over to Joel for a second before they fall back on Tommy, "I, uh–. . . didn't want to make anybody uncomfortable, y'know?"

You're almost positive Tommy knows what went down between you and Joel last night; either his brother told him, or he guessed it when Joel sent him over here to order him a drink, but you can see it in the way his expression morphs into one of awkward understanding.

"Well, I can't speak for everyone, but you could never make me uncomfortable, kiddo," Tommy informs you, and the smile you give him is genuine.

"I appreciate that," you tell him, laughing slightly as you put down the two drinks, "here you are,"

Tommy nods as he picks up the drinks, before he seems to hesitate.

"For what it's worth, I told him he should talk to you about it, at least,"

"Well, you can lead a horse to water. . . " you say with a tight-lipped smile, and Tommy nods with a snort.

"Too fucking right you are," he notes, which makes you chuckle.

"Have a nice night, Tommy,"

"You too, kiddo. . . anybody gives you trouble we'll be right over there,"

"Thanks," you say with a small chuckle.

The rest of the evening goes by relatively smoothly, save for a few over-zealous customers near the end of your shift that you manage to handle, but not before you notice from the corner of your eye how Joel straightens in his seat, eyes boring into the side of your face as he gages the situation.

You weren't surprised; ever since that incident with Sean Mixon a few months back, when you'd first started doing closing shifts on busy nights, Joel had stayed close by. It hadn't been anything too serious, but you'd ended up on Joel and Ellie's porch after closing time on the verge of tears to ask if he'd had any antiseptic for a grizzly looking cut on your arm. You'd gotten it after Sean had flown into a drunken rage and hurled a glass at your head when you'd asked him to leave, and one of the ricocheting shards had caught your skin. It hadn't necessarily been the worst of cuts, but you'd been pretty shaken up nevertheless, and given Bonnie had been away on a night patrol at the time, you'd ended up sleeping on their couch.

After that, Joel had been there every time you worked a closing shift, come rain or shine, always staying all the way until the end. Even though he'd generally leave along with the last customer, you could always see Joel's living room light on and the curtains open as you walked home, sat in a chair reading or playing guitar but always keeping an eye on your porch as you got home.

This evening was no different, and it felt admittedly comforting to know Joel wasn't so angry with you he wasn't here as usual.

You'd spent the last 10 minutes doing most of your cleanup so you could corner Joel on your way out. You'd had pretty much the entire night to think and watch him, which had culminated into you talking yourself into what would probably be a relatively awkward confrontation about what had happened yesterday.

You wait and watch as Joel leaves, not looking in your direction, before you grab your coat off the chair and flick the light off, hurrying out of the door after him.

"Joel!" you call, watching as he stops in his tracks and turns back towards you, "Wait a second,"

You turn back to the door, locking it hastily, almost afraid he'll have taken off by the time you turn back, but he hasn't. He's standing still, half-facing you, hands stuffed into his jean pockets and shoulder hunched against the cold as you give him an awkward smile, jogging to catch up with him.

"Look, about earlier. . . " you start as you level with him, and Joel has to admit to himself he's surprised by the fact you get right to it. He had at least been expecting an attempt at some uneasy small talk.

"It's okay," Joel assures you quickly, hands still in his pockets, "I promise I can handle getting rejected. . . I was just a little caught off guard, yesterday, I thought–. . . well, it doesn't matter,"

"It's not that I'm not interested," you offer, almost timidly, and Joel feels a jolt in his chest at your words, despite himself, eyes moving from the ground to meet yours, "I just–. . . I want us to be on the same page,"

Joel raises his eyebrows slightly, his look urging you to continue.

You wring your hands slightly, letting out a breath that curls into the cold night air as your turns and start walking home, Joel falling into step with you. "Look, I'm not really a dater. . .um–. . . I lost someone I loved a few years ago and it was the most pain I think I've ever felt in my life,"

Joel is silent as you walk, hands in his pockets as he listens to you speak, patient, open.

He can see the grief in your eyes, but also a peace, one he'd longed to find for so many years and had only partially regained when he'd met Ellie. Sarah was a part of him he would always miss; the pain had only gotten less frequent, but it was never gone entirely, lingering within him like a smouldering flame.

"I'm just not eager to feel that again," you explain, giving him a watery smile, "So I just don't really get, er, involved. . . with, people. . . that's why I kind of dodged you, yesterday,"

Joel watches as your brow frowns slightly as you seem to cringe at your own words, taking another nervous breath as your fingers hang by your side, tapping your leg uneasily.

"At all?" Joel asks after a second, and your eyes shoot up from where they'd been on your feet to meet his.

His gaze is earnest, and you can tell he's genuinely curious, too. There's something else there, too, which you can't identify but gives you the nagging feeling you might've read Joel Miller wrong, after all.

"I mean, not at all," you bring out, frowning slightly as the corner of your mouth pull up into a slight smile, "I might be emotionally unavailable, but I'm not a nun,"

Joel lets out a small laugh, steps slowing as they come to a stop, and you look at him with a smile, stopping to face him. It's not very close to him, but Joel's steps carry him a little closer to you, closing the gap further until you're standing face to face.

"Good to know you're still open to enjoying the finer things in life," he jokes, and now it's your turn to laugh, shaking your head as Joel watches the smile on your features.

"Yes, I am," you say with a remaining chuckle, clearing your throat slightly as you look up at him.

"So–" he speaks after a second, swallowing as his eyes draw you in, voice slightly deeper than it had been a second ago, "If I were to kiss you, say, right now–"

His gaze moves for a split second from your eyes down to your lips, "You wouldn't object?"

"Joel. . ." you say his name in half-warning, but you can already feel the pads of his finger ghosting the fabric of your coat, and you swallow, "We can't get involved. . . this can't become a mess,"

Joel hums slightly, and you feel his hand move, pressing his palm over the curve of your waist as his eyes look for yours, "Heard you the first time, darlin'. . . I can be casual. . . that's what you're saying, ain't it?"

You look up at him, into his eyes, and Joel can tell you're fighting with yourself.

You are. Parts of you are protesting that this is a slippery slope, that this is dangerous, and then the other parts of you are drawn to him; his presence, his smell, his eyes. . .god, those eyes. He has an almost irresistible look in his eyes, coupled with the beginnings of that troublemaker smile he has that's oh so rare – but oh so attractive.

It's like a moth to a flame, and when you feel Joel's hand move under the hem of your coat, thumb pressing a gentle circle on your lower waist over the fabric of your t-shirt, you can barely stop yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. You draw in a sharp breath, and feel the corners of your mouth pull up into a coquettish smile as you give in to him.

"Well then," you say, and your voice is almost a whisper, your breath fanning Joel's lips, "You going to kiss me then, Miller? Or are you going to wait around for the grass to grow?"

He chuckles, and it's low in his chest as you feel his hand flatten against your waist, pulling you flush against him so your lips are mere inches from his, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. "You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?"

"Trust me, it's good for other things, too," you suggest, your voice half teasing, and Joel chuckles again, his nose bumping up against yours as his eyes dive deep into yours, rich and intoxicating and darkening slightly at your words.

"Well, in that case. . . "

Joel doesn't finish he sentence before he leans in, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

It's everything you imagined kissing Joel would be like, and as your lips move, reciprocating, you feel his other hand come up, fingers ghosting the side of your neck before you feel the pads of his fingers on your jaw line. When you press further against him, his hand moves to cup your cheek, fingertips grazing the hair at the base of your skull, under your ear, pulling you closer to him as you melt against his chest.

Finally, after a second, you pull away from each other to catch your breath, but as you do, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth gently, tugging on it slightly as you pull away from him. You feel his hands tighten around your waist, and it makes the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a smirk as you open your eyes to look back him. He's looking down at you, pupils blown wide and a half-conflicted look in his eyes.

"What?" you ask him, voice almost a whisper, and he shrugs.

"I'm trying to decide if it's too crass to ask to take you home tonight," Joel says, almost carefully, and your smile grows slightly as you chuckle, before you lean in and kiss him again.

This one is longer, more inviting, and your hand moves Joel's from your waist down to the curve of your ass. Joel lets something akin to a groan against your mouth as his fingers dig into your ass, and you pull away from him with another teasing smile.

"I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't take me home, Miller," you muse, and now Joel's mouth curls into a genuine smile as you feel his hand take yours.

"What are we still standing around talking for, then, darlin'? Let's go home,"

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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v1olentdelights · 5 months

Text

Timeless

Peter Pevensie x reader, George Karim x reader, Peter Parker x reader, allusion to Remus Lupin x reader Summary: There is a type of love that exists in all universes, and maybe, just maybe, you have that love... Trigger Warning: mentions of crying I think and being disgustingly in love, there is a mention of a tough mission - marvel, in the 3rd italicized part if you need to skip that also, the main plot/timeline doesn't have an actual character that is specified, so insert whoever. a/n: I spent an unbelievable amount of time on this, and literally all my self-esteem is resting on this rn, slay, please let me know if you like it!! -- each piece is inspired by a taylor swift song, and it is all based on her song Timeless, also pleeease understand who the old lady is! Otherwise I've failed at writing!

It had been about 2 years together now, 3 as friends, and you were madly in love. It felt as if you had known each other far longer, you couldn’t exactly place it, but it felt as if you knew each other in another lifetime. You had been out looking for an anniversary gift, nothing too eccentric, but perfect. The downtown area was small enough and the weather was the perfect type of gloomy for you to walk around. You had been going in and out of shops you knew, but when you stumbled across a unique looking door with vines climbing up the side of the building something drew you in.

Stepping in you were immediately engulfed in the smell of flowers, old books, and something sweet that you couldn’t quite place. The store was a beautiful mix of old and new, and the lady at the counter seemed to know exactly how you were feeling. You smiled at one another before you walked over to where the books were laid out. Most of them seemed like books you may take a glimpse at before moving on, but something caught your eye. The title seemed to be handwritten, picking it up you began to flip through it immediately being sucked in.

—

The couple raced through the field, many years earlier they would have been worried that the trampled flowers would not recover. However, that was not the Narnian way, the flowers seemed to almost instantly spring back to life. Things seemed to thrive here, and even when things had passed, it was never sad, more of a celebration.

Peter, the High King had been forcibly dragged out of his study by his wife, though there were grumbles about papers and deals that needed to be taken care of, they were soon hushed. You were dancing and running in the field. The shrill of laughter could be heard for miles as Peter picked you up by your waist from behind. You could feel his lips on your neck and shoulders, pressing loving kisses to your warm skin.

“You, my love, are wonderful!” Pressing another kiss to your shoulder he then began to tickle your sides. Your body thrashed as you laughed, a sound he wished he could play over and over again. After escaping you fell softly to the ground, Peter beside you. Turning to look at his face, you let yourself remember the many years you had spent together growing and loving one another.

“And you, darling, are just as delightful.” Stretching a bit, you pressed a kiss to his jaw to reaffirm your statement. You both sighed quietly while taking in the moment, the sun was shining not too bright, the flowers created a beautiful aroma, and your lover was laying by your side.

“Do you remember what you said to me the night you proposed?” You smile at the memory, Peter had spent weeks courting you, and even longer trying to win your father over.

“Of course I do.” He scoffs as if he is hurt that you’d ever think he’d forget. “And I think it has to be one of the most romantic things ever.” You hit his chest, both of you chuckling.

“‘I love you, and that’s all I really know?’ That is the most romantic thing ever said?” Again he feigned hurt by slapping a hand over his chest.

“How dare you? I do believe you are the one who said yes, and then proceeded to stay with me all these years.” You roll your eyes, perhaps you had decided to stay with him, he was so wonderful after all. “Of course I did, because I love you Peter.”

“And I love you, my heart.” You roll over to lay half way on his chest before pressing your lips to his, and you smile knowing that you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

—

You decided the book might be one of the most enthralling and beautiful stories you’ve ever read. The story wildly resembled the love you shared with your boyfriend, so of course you had to purchase it. Though you still continued to peruse the shop. There were little trinkets here and there, a few older looking hair brushes accompanied by hand held mirrors; there were some old children's toys easily making you smile at the thought of two young friends playing. Then you saw the most beautiful set of tea cups sitting next to each other. Again, a smile found its way to your face, you could only think about an old couple sitting together, perhaps the friends that played with the toys, enjoying a nice cup of tea while watching the sun set.

—

With The Problem, your options in life had been very limited, one of those options being friends. So you were stuck with your next door neighbor, George Karim. If there was one word to describe him, it was weird, and he knew it too. But that was what made you even closer. It was hard when he moved away, you were still somewhat young but the bond you formed was something that seemed much older. Yet you were left all alone again.

“George Karim, you better not forget about me! I’ll find you in the future.” your little voice sounded so broken, and his was as well.

“I can’t forget about my best friend.” He said as if it was a fact, a promise even. So you sealed it with a pinky promise and then tugged one another into a hug.

Spending years in a regular school because you didn’t have a talent was boring. Everyone seemed to almost ignore The Problem, when all you wanted to do was talk about it. There was one boy who tried to pursue you, he faked interest in the problem to get a chance with you in bed. Of course you did nothing less than physically kicking him out of the house, but since then things seemed to be dull, black and white almost. So you decided to do something more with your life.

Having seen an ad in the paper for a researcher you promptly took action. Knocking on the door of 35 Portland Row was nothing but horrific. What if you had managed to get the address wrong, or what if it was a group of older much scarier men? Your mind wouldn’t stop spinning, that was until the lock could be heard turning and the door swung open. The boy hadn’t even looked up at you before speaking.

“If you’re here about the position, you have about 5 minutes because it is almost te-”

“Tea time. 3 o'clock tea time.” Your voice held hope, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Exactly.” He sounded almost agitated, but then he looked up at you, and all the disdain washed from his face. You smiled slightly, but were caught off guard as he almost tackled you in a hug.

“It’s you!” pulling back, though he still held onto your shoulders. “You found me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“A pinky promise is not to be broken, right?” Your smile was so bright he was sure you could turn the gloomy day bright, technically you already had. He quickly ushered you inside, passing what you assumed was the makeshift interview room, George told the other boy that you needed a bit of tea prior to your interview.

As you got situated at the dining table you watch him move about the kitchen, quickly heating up the water while pulling out different types of tea. He was humming an old song, one your mother used to play while you and he would play in the living room.

“My favorite!” a bit surprised but grateful, he turned to face you.

“I know,” he smiled sweetly, and oh how you missed that smile. “I can’t seem to forget it.”

You spent more time than necessary letting the tea get to a reasonable drinking temperature and even more time getting caught up with one another. All the while you couldn’t help but think that it was much more than just change that brought you back together; and that you were excited for these sweet nothings to continue.

—

By the time you had come out of your little daydream, you had realized it had begun to rain. And though you loved the rain, you weren’t in the proper attire for it.

“Why don’t you stay a bit longer dear, I can sort you out some tea and we can talk to pass the time.” The old lady at the counter, who you almost forgot about, said.

“Oh, thank you but that’s too kind I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t be silly, it is rare that I get company.” She politely interrupted, now you didn’t have the heart to tell her no. As she trailed off into the back room you let yourself peruse the tables a bit long, but a sharp yelp of laughter caught your attention, you looked outside to see a young couple jumping in the newly formed puddles. The boy looked at the girl as if she had hung the moon.

—

It had been one of the toughest missions you had ever been on. After receiving an anonymous tip about a bombing about to happen, you and Natasha had been partnered together to evacuate the building as quickly as possible. Thankfully, with great struggle, you had managed to save everyone. But the possibility of failure still weighed heavily on your chest. So when you got home you packed a plate full of food, grabbed some water, and went up to your room to change and lay on your bed.

You had been alone for all of 30 minutes, enough time to finish your food and enough to be on the cusp of falling asleep. But that quickly ended when there was a quiet knocking on the door. The grumble you let out should be enough for the other person to understand that you wanted to be left alone, but it wasn’t. The door creaked open, and you could tell it was him before he even set foot into your room.

“I heard it was a tough one.” Thankfully his voice was quiet and calm, otherwise you might have chucked a pillow at him. “I thought maybe you could use some company.” With a nod of acceptance, he made his way to lay down next to you. Reaching a hand out, he took it pulling you closer until you were laying on his chest.

“I love you.” he then pressed a kiss to your head, and all felt right.

After some time there was a light patter of rain on your window and suddenly you had some energy rushing through your body.

“Peter, come on!” You exclaimed quietly. He opened his eyes groggily, though you knew he wasn’t actually sleeping. You grabbed his hand again just like you had about an hour ago, though this time you were dragging him up and out of bed. “Put your shoes on!” This time you were louder as you hopped about on one foot as you attempted to put on your sneakers.

You had him following you out, but the second he felt the water droplets hitting his body he squished his face all up. But you had missed it, you were too busy jumping in puddles, the ends of your pants were now soaked, and your socks were far beyond dry, but you could care less. And Peter could care less about the rain dripping down his face, all he cared about was your laugh and how every time you looked as though you couldn’t get happier, you did.

“Pete, come one, don’t make me jump around all by myself!” And who was he to deny you. Soon your found yourselves soaked to the bone,

“You are the only person I’d dance with in a storm in my best pair of sweatpants.” He chuckled as you purposefully splashed him.

“I know, and I love it!”

—

“Dear, the tea is ready!” the lady called out from upstairs, ” You tore your gaze away from the couple finding yourself more intrigued the further up you went into the store. It gradually got lighter, the walls were soon covered in a yellow daisy pattern wallpaper. And soon you were welcomed by walls full of pictures, there were stacks of books all around the living room, and a few candles that looked as though they were on their last legs.

You found the woman in the kitchen standing on her tippy toes to reach for the sugar. Swiftly taking action you reached up from behind her and pulled the sugar down for her.

“My husband used to always get that for me.” She lets out a chuckle, but it doesn’t hold any tone of sadness. “Now please, have a seat!” She pointed towards the small sunroom you hadn’t noticed.

“This is beautiful, I didn’t know apartments could have sunrooms anymore.” You gently grazed a few of the trailing plants, out of your eye you could have sworn you saw one move.

“I know, they usually don’t. But when I begged my husband, he couldn’t help but give in!” You met her on the couch, observing the house. It was quiet for a bit, but it wasn’t uncomfortable which was rather unexpected seeing as you were sitting with a stranger.

“What was your husband like?” You broke the silence. She smiled at you as if she was waiting for you to ask that. Standing up she mumbled something about staying put while she rummaged through her living room before finding what she was looking for.

As she made her way back to you and you found your heart filling, in her hands she held 4 picture books. She plopped them down on the table before pulling the top one off. The outside was covered in stickers, and on the front was ‘1974’, she traced it with her finger before flipping it open. The inside was just as decorated, there were drawings and captions around a whole bunch of photos.

“This was the year I met my husband, Remus. He’s the tall one right there.” She said fondly while pointing to the boy with a healing cut across his cheek. Next to him were 3 other boys and a girl with red hair, each wearing matching ties, school issued you assumed.

“And who are the others?” She was quick to begin her explanation of how they all met. Apparently the four boys had known one another since their first year, but then the red head, Lily, and herself had slowly integrated into the group with some of their other friends.

“We were such a rambunctious group, that one,” she pointed to a black haired boy, “was always causing the most chaos. But he had a troubled home life, so we were more gracious with him. And later his younger brother came along and joined our group.” She was flipping through the pages, you saw photos of the group out by a lake, some of parties, at least 2 of a buck in the room, though you chose not to comment on that. Then she reached for the next book, titled 1975-1977.

The pictures progressed into pictures of younger her and her husband, a few of them standing near one another on snowy paths, others where they are fully dressed in red and gold, again assuming it was a part of a school event. Though you were entranced by the photos, all you could do was admire the woman’s devotion and absolute adoration that she seemed to hold for her late husband. It seemed as though she had loved him longer than he had even known.

“My was he handsome, always was.” she continued to stare at one particular picture.

You assumed it was the day they had gotten engaged by the size of her smile, and the ring on her finger that hadn’t been there before. She stood next to Remus, who was staring down at her with a fond smile.

“He was handsome. What was he like?” You were unsure if that was the right question to ask by the saddened look she held, but it was soon erased as she looked up at you. She let out a laugh as tears spilt over.

“Remus was a quiet one, shy but also very cocky. He was a genius, in fact he had his own little study group, he helped tutor some of the younger grades. But my oh my was he mischievous, he was the brains behind all the wild schemes he and his friends put up.” Then she turned her attention to the flat. “He adored books, as you can see. I loved them too, but I think to him, they were an escape. He used to read them to me as well.” She trailed off quietly for a moment. The more she talked about him, the more you felt as if you recognized him, recognized their relationship. But you chose not to say anything about it.

“But enough of that sad nonsense! I’m sure you have far better things to attend to, I sense there is something special happening tonight?” you shook your head before finishing the rest of your tea.

“I appreciate this, truly!” Offering her a kind smile, you pulled out your wallet in preparation for paying, but she put her hand over yours.

“No, don’t worry about it dear, I believe these items chose you. I would feel better if you had them as if they were already yours.” As you were about to protest, she began pushing you back towards the door and out into the street. “Have fun this evening, dear.” She smiled before shutting the door in your face.

—

“Darling, I am home!” You said with a raised voice. Today had been something else entirely and you were excited to tell him all about it. The smell of food wafted through the hallway pulling you towards the kitchen. But you weren’t met with your lover, you were met with your friend instead.

“Analise? What are you doing here?” There is no point in denying that you were a bit disappointed that she was here, today was your special day with your boyfriend.

“What are you talking about? I’m not here.” Now you were truly perplexed, the smirk that she wore didn’t help at all.

“I-” she simply grabbed your elbow and walked you outside to your small backyard. Then you understood why she was there. There was a small table set out in the yard near your flower garden, with two chairs and some lights hanging around the yard. And there stood your lover, smiling brightly. Tears grew in your eyes, how special this was.

“Hello, my love.” He stepped forward to press a kiss to your lips.

“What is all this?” your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked around.

“For you. I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.” Now he led you over to sit down across from him.

The evening held some light conversation, by the end your stomach was happy and your heart felt light.

“I hope you saved room for dessert.”

“I always have room for dessert, silly!” Your laugh was as beautiful as a sunset, at least that’s what he thought. You turned to face the house, Analise was bringing out a small tray of cupcakes, and while your back was turned, and your mouth was drooling, you missed the sound of your love moving. As Analise set the tray down you turned to ask your love which you should eat first, you noticed he was gone. Spinning in your chair to face the opposite direction you saw your love down on one knee.

“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” he says with a slight smile. “Honestly, honey, I have no idea, but I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all. I’m gonna love you when our hair is turning gray. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life showing how much I love you.”

Vigorously shaking your head yes, you launched yourself at him holding on tight around his neck, hoping to never let him go.

“Yes, a thousand times yes!” Your voice was somewhat quiet, making the moment more intimate. “We’re gonna be timeless.”

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ppoppokari · 1 year

Note

Hello 🤗 just came back from reading your poly hyunlix and I LOVED it. If you're up to requests, could do a poly Minsung one? Because God knows those two are my weakness

a/n~ oh my god hi!! it still surprises me that people see my writing, even if i do post it, on a public site, on the internet. but thank you so much for requesting! i was literally just talking about minsung to friend so challenge accepted!

also I'm so sorry this was overdue, the rona finally caught up with me :)

❁ when peter met rhino~ dating minsung

*siri play be mine by junji*

~sfw~

🍃minho thought love was simple, fall for one person and you are set for the rest of your life, what a clown.

🍃as soon as he realised he had it in him to pull the two people he was crushing on, he knew he was going to choose both of you.

🍃now jisung will mention it day in and day out how minho gives him butterflies and how oddly enough he likes the feeling. but don't worry, it's just his way of teasing. which is pretty obvious considering you're the one making his heart skip a beat daily.

🍃date nights are rare but when they do happen it's swoon worthy. both your boyfriends live for privacy which results in fast food on fancy plates, wine and heartfelt conversations.

🍃minho is a serial blusher, remind him to wear a coat and he turns to mush.

🍃loving the two of you actually brings minho to tears because it's the only way he can express himself. sometimes he just gets so overwhelmed with the care he receives from both of you.

🍃you basically live in the practice room, what started as you dropping something off for a forgetful jisung resulted in you staying to watch your boyfriends practice. they lied and told the company it was a once off, it wasn't.

🍃also the way you guys compliment each other is sickening, you don't even have to do anything and they will claim you're a regular genius.

🍃you want to see some heartflipping shit? just picture the random pda they bombard you with. the most outrageous being when minho will loosely link his fingers with yours.

🍃 jisung is a funny guy, but he really goes out of his way to appear as the best, funniest, boyfriend ever. his love language is having a damn good time.

🍃 no one would guess that you are all in a relationship, they just think its a disgustingly cheesy friendship triangle.

🍃now while some people claim that they will be in a relationship with "the one" for the rest of your life, the three of your are just vibing. though jisung worries about this he will never mention it. not wanting to jinx your love.

🍃even if that's the case jisung still has a phobia of either one of you leaving. there's no way in hell that's happening .

🍃jisung is the most annoying guy ever and he knows it. his overuse of pet names is purely because he is begging for one of you to blush or scowl at him, he will take both.

🍃small pranks are inevitable so while this is the most serious relationship ever, you also like to torment each other out of love.

🍃minho could easily spend over an hour smugly saying that he is charming enough to date two people at once, but he opts for sneaking his simping into the songs he cowrites.

🍃but since it's minho we're talking about your tribute may come in the form of drive 2.0.

🍃when you decide to take your dates outside you do less dating and more staring at minho, who smirks into his cup of coffee trying to hide how flustered he is.

🍃 minho is the type to playfully scold the two of you for being all over him but that's literally just him saying that he wants more pda.

🍃even if you are living a dream 24/7, your favourite moments have to be when you're on the living room floor stretched out and talking while soonie, doongie and dori take their little cat naps besides you.

~nsfw~

🍃it's kind of scary how minho can seem so indifferent and not mention sex, hell he seems innocent until he gets that glint in his eyes. you better run (to your bed).

🍃jisung is so whipped for dom minho even if minho. he may be wholesome but he will beg for one of you to fuck him good.

🍃 your little hannie is oh so giving, he will play the part of whatever you want, his kink is literally trying out every kink.

🍃minho will only sub if he is exhausted or feeling sentimental. feel free to be rough with him but he lives for the validation that you care for him when he is feeling the most vulnerable.

🍃they are sugar and spice until sugar decides he wants in on the fun that spice is having.

🍃jisung may be a soft giving guy but he has it in him to absolutely wreck you. he will always make sure there are no hard feelings and that all of this is in good fun.

🍃but with minho whispering in his ear, telling him all the ways you deserve to be punished jisung can't help himself.

🍃the marks left behind are sore to the touch but the drastic shift between jisung's harsh words to soft kisses and even softer words is enough to give you whiplash.

🍃both of them have different versions of a corruption kink.

🍃minho wants to break you down in the neediest of ways, he wants to take away all of your innocence and self-control. on the other hand jisung will innocently taunt you, encouraging you to lose your innocent cover. he knows just how needy and sinful you are and is too willing to push all of your buttons.

🍃jisung's tongue is superior, not much can match the sensation of him going down on you or when you decide to wreck his mouth. give it your all, his gag reflex is so good.

🍃basically he has a major oral fixation, he just wants something in his mouth, he doesn't care if it's your fingers or minho.

🍃all of you have such intense sex drives, it isn't as gentle as you would think, you really just lust after each other.

🍃though you would have your gentle moments the majority of the time is spent trying out each one of your kinks.

🍃it's literally so wholesome though, the amount of attention you receive from each other and the lack of judgement is so nice. no matter how dirty your fantasies are your boyfriends will try to meet you half way.

#skz #stray kids headcanons #skz fluff #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #dating skz #skz minho #skz han #skz jisung #poly minsung #skz poly headcanons #minsung x gn! reader #skz soft thoughts #skz hard thoughts

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memestockpile · 2 months

Text

it happened one night (1934) feel free to change as needed.

can't get a thing done unless you do it yourself.

please. i can't fight on an empty stomach.

i hate businessmen.

you're not being fair, darling.

i come from a long line of stubborn idiots!

nice and gooey. just the way i like it.

in a pig's eye, you will!

you wouldn't know a story if it reached up and kicked you in the pants.

it's going to do you no good, my tough friend.

keep your shirt on, young fella.

what you need is a good sock on the nose.

i'm in a very ugly mood. so if it's just the same to you, scram.

i want to be left alone.

why, you ungrateful brat!

i hated to wake you up.

you needn't concern yourself about me, young man.

you're doing a pretty sloppy job.

if you play your cards right, you might get some money out of it.

i had you pegged right from the start.

i guess it never occured to you to just say, "please, mister, i'm in trouble. will you help me?"

you look like you got class.

the colder they are, the hotter they get.

you bore me to distraction.

if you promise not to snap my head off, i'd like to thank you.

that's none of your business.

you're on a budget from now on.

we're stopping here for the night.

your ego is colossal.

hey, you're kinda little, aren't you?

if you've got any peculiar ideas that i'm interested in you, forget it.

there's a brain behind that face of yours, isn't there?

perhaps you're interested in how a man undresses.

a night's rest will do you good.

you sweet thing, you.

listen, brat. i'm going to count to ten. if you're not out of bed by then, i'm going to yank you out myself.

your hair's cute like that. you should never comb it.

if you don't get out of here, i'll slap that fresh mouth of yours.

one egg, doughnuts, black coffee.

what makes you so disgustingly cheerful this morning?

i've always been told what to do and how to do it and where and with whom.

this is the first time i've ever been alone with a man!

dunking's an art. don't let it soak so long. a dip and plop, into your mouth.

i ought to write a book about it.

come here, you little fool!

you don't have to lose your temper!

no mushy stuff.

that's better. you're all right, now.

going without food is bad business, son.

we're right in the middle of nowhere.

i can use a smart guy like you.

i was never built for these moonlight strolls.

i wish you'd stop being playful.

this is the first time i've ridden piggyback in years.

you can't be hungry and scared at the same time. if you're scared, it scares the hunger out of you.

you're becoming terribly disagreeable lately.

holy jumping catfish!

you've had a lot of men crazy about you, haven't you?

the world's full of people like you. don't know what they want.

life's swell if you don't try too hard.

i wish you wouldn't talk too much.

young people in love are never hungry.

if you do, i'll break your neck.

haven't slept one night this week.

have you ever been in love?

those are the only places to live. where the stars are so close over your head that you feel you could reach right up and stir them around.

better go back to your bed.

get me a drink and make sure nobody disturbs me for half an hour.

i haven't been shot at for days.

you know i've always liked you.

i need a thousand dollars.

i wouldn't trust you as far as i could throw that desk.

so long, kid. and good luck.

get me a doctor. i'm about to have a nervous breakdown.

certainly gave us a run for our money.

the thought of it makes me shudder.

if you'll do what i tell you, perhaps i might develop a little respect for you.

you thought that up all by yourself, huh?

i hope he breaks his leg.

still in the dumps?

i wouldn't hurt you for the world. you know that.

i knew there was something on your mind.

i've been such a burden to you.

i want our life to be full of excitement.

you're a peculiar chap.

this is a matter of principle. something you probably wouldn't understand.

that's an evasion.

you're a sucker to go through with this.

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angel-inrealtime · 1 year

Text

November F1c Prompts Day 29

29. Sight: Monument

A/N: Second last day (again, ignoring the month pls). We're embracing the tooth rotting fluff I guess.

He truly, disgustingly, loves America.

You’ve accepted, by now, that it’s not likely to change. That he’s just going to keep loving America and you’ll spend some of the year there.

It’s not so bad, you think, doing a leg of the great American road trip (which you started off calling it as a joke and then it stuck) where you’re in a car rather than on the bikes and it’s just the two of you and you book a couple of nights in a dome made for stargazing not far from the Grand Canyon.

There’s nobody around for miles and miles and you lie with your heads next to each other on the deck outside, looking up at the endless inky sky and the pinpricks of stars dotted all over it.

“Mm.” Daniel makes a noise after a while, contented rumble in his chest.

You thread your fingers into his hair, stroking through his curls and scratching your nails against his scalp. “Okay?”

He nods emphatically, pushing his head up into your hand. “I’m good. Like, so good.”

🌙

It’s worth the early morning wakeup, you think, to see him bathed in the sunrise light. It catches all the gold in his eyes, makes them look like they go on forever. You feel on fire with how much you love him, want to carve out a space in his chest and curl up next to his heart, keep him safe and never let him forget how much he’s loved.

Daniel reaches a hand up off the railing and pokes your nose. “You’re staring.” He’s preening, a little.

“I know.” You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face if you tried, lean back on the railing so you’re looking at him instead of the sunrise, one arm looped through his. “You’re just gorgeous. Can’t help myself.”

Definitely preening, now. “Aw babe.” He grins so wide it splits his face. “Stop it.”

“You don’t mean that. You love it when I tell you how pretty you are.”

Daniel laughs with his head thrown back. “Guilty as charged.” He runs the backs of his knuckles over your upper arm, face softening as he looks at you. “Thanks, for doing some of this with me, when you can. It means a lot.”

“Oh, love.” You kiss his bicep, between the astronaut and cowgirl tattoos. “Of course. I love exploring with you.”

He hums, the same contented noise in his chest from the night before. “Would you…” There’s something on his face that you can’t quite place. “I’m crap at this, I had a big thing to say, and...”

“Crap at what? What do you mean?”

“I just…I don’t wanna explore with anyone else, you know? And I was thinking, like, we’re going to Vegas soon. For the race and stuff. You wanna add in a visit to the drive-thru chapel?”

Your eyes have snapped back to him, now. You can only blink, dumbfounded. “Are you…did you just propose to me?”

He looks like he’s blushing, but he doesn’t move away. “I mean…only if you want to. We can have a party any time and…” He gets more flustered as you stand and look at him. “You always said you wouldn’t want like a big thing, or anything! I just…”

“You are absolutely…” The words dry up in your throat and you turn him around to face you. “Fucking come here, idiot.” You drag him down into a kiss with a hand around the back of his neck.

“So is that a yes, or…?” He says against your mouth, when you let him pull back.

“Is your mum gonna hate me if it is?”

It makes him laugh, trying to pull you as close as possible. “Nah, I told them I was gonna ask.”

“Then yes.”

“Run that by me again?” His eyes are shining.

(You think you might be crying, actually)

“Yes, Daniel.”

🌙

“You guys aren’t coming for a drink later?” George asks, surprised.

You look at Daniel first, furtively, and then smile at the younger man. “Nah we’ve…got plans.” You manage airily.

You leave with Daniel's arm over your shoulder and his head thrown back laughing at something you said, think that’s the end of it. Later, Max tells you the conversation that happened right after you left.

“I’m telling you. They’re gonna do it. Carmen heard her talking about getting photos done after they picked up a car. And they’re all...” George waves his hand. “Y’know.”

Lewis laughs. “They’re always like that, they always have been. Like they’re disgustingly in love or something.” He jostles the younger man. “They’re not even engaged man, and Daniel isn’t the marrying type. He’s told me before.”

“Maybe he wasn’t.” George turns to his teammate, hand outstretched. “Bet you fifty quid, they’re getting married in Vegas.”

“You’re insane, there’s no way.” Lewis says it even as he’s shaking his hand. “Deal.”

🌙

“Are you sure, Daniel?”

He nods earnestly. “We can have a party anytime, with everyone. I kind of...” Daniel cranes his neck up to kiss you where you’re standing in front of him. “It’s kind of nice, that this is just us.”

“But your family...” You fret, not for the first time.

“They get it. Don’t worry.” He smiles at you, and it feels so soft, like a caress. “It’s nice that you care, though.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Of course I care, it matters to you. And like...I like them, and I want them to continue to like me.”

“They fucking love you, are you joking? You sure I don’t have to like, ask your mum for permission or anything?” He asks, poking you in the side.

“Ohhh, you’re so funny.”

“I mean you clearly thought so, at some point.”

“I still do.” You concede. “I’ll deny it if you tell anyone though.”

He laughs, bright and loud, rests his hands on your waist when you both go still, breathing falling in sync. “No take backs.”

You brush your hands through his hair, and the only word you can find to describe how he’s looking at you is ‘adoringly’. You bend down to kiss him softly. “No take backs.” You repeat firmly.

The black dress swirls around you as he stands, picks up your hand and makes you spin in your cowboy boots, grinning wide when he puts the hat on your head too.

🌙

You stride into the paddock on Thursday holding hands, and it’s George who spots you first.

“You actually bloody did it, didn’t you? You went to the fucking drive thru chapel.” You laugh loudly and hold up your left hand, newly adorned finger glittering in the sunlight, and he leans back through the front door into the Mercedes hospitality. “They did too, you owe me.” He crows.

Lewis shakes his head but hands over what looks like $50 to the younger man, before he hugs you both over the fence. “Cheers for the invite, man. Happy for you, but like...”

Daniel laughs. “Thanks, mate. Party will be later. It just...when in Vegas, you know?”

Geri screams when you walk into the Red Bull hospitality area, and you know the news has beaten you there. Daniel stays close all day, rolling his eyes when they pull him away to film social media content.

#f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #November f1c prompts #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1blr #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula 1 x reader

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reanbowful · 1 year

Note

pocky game with them (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)???

Hi anon! Gahhh this is too cute!!! Thank you sm for requesting this I love you so much!!!

“pocky kiss”

if you play a pocky game with them

(ben, alex, jake, donald, wolf)

ben park / park humin

(you guys have to know that I was punching air while writing this knowing I won’t ever be able to have something like this with him)

The corniest, cutest, most beloved, disgustingly sweet couple ever.

You were on a date together with Ben-

Well, you were on a date with Ben. Alex and Gerard came to tag along.

The initial plan was for the three of them to go play pool as usual. But Ben being Ben, fucked up the timeline and you are already in Eunjang to go on your date with him.

Which was today.

So then Ben came up with the most Ben Park idea ever.

He decided that you two can get your date while him and his friends can still hang out. Two birds with one stone!

Obviously Alex and Gerard thought it was a horrible horrible idea.

But you shrugged and invited the two of them along, making them reluctant to reject your offer.

So that brings you all here.

Let me begin by saying how HEAVY you guys are on pda. And it’s even worse for both Alex and Gerard that you two are so unfazed with what’s going on around you. Namely how uncomfortable you two have made them feel.

Ben has his arm around you, looking like an overgrown puppy. Completely oblivious to the way Alex has been averting his gaze and Gerard slurping his water awkwardly.

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

You held out a pocky stick from your parfait in front of Ben’s face.

He took the sugary end into his mouth as you nibbled on the plain side. Biting quickly through the dessert and kissing you after he finished it all.

Gerard and Alex blushed when they see the interaction. It’s even worse that you and Ben merely wiped the edge of your mouth from the whipped cream and continued conversing like normal.

Finally after one torturous hour, your guys each bid your goodbyes as you have to leave for your cram school.

“I’m never going through that again.”

“Same..”

alex go / go hyuntak

It was a truth or dare game.

You were at his house for a sleepover, or as Ben calls it, an ‘Eunjang fun night’. You visibly cringed when you heard him say that.

But anyways.

You guys did what most high schoolers would do at sleepovers.

That’s right, reveal embarrassing stuff, and do embarrassing stuff for you guys to reveal later on at uni.

“Alright, y/n. Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“Call your ex and tell him you miss him.”

Alex snapped at the dare that was rolled on Gerard’s phone.

“She’s not going to do that..!”

Oh, did I forget to mention that if you bail there will be a penalty?

You sighed at your boyfriend’s dramatic reaction and went to pick up a pocky stick.

“Alex, come here.”

Putting them in your mouth, you grab Alex by the back of his neck.

He yelped, but recovered quickly. Taking the other end and began to bite his way through the stick. His hands on your waist as you move to straddle him for a better angle.

When you’re done, Alex was still pouting. But with a light blush across his face.

You flicked his forehead, chuckling at his dramatic antics.

“Why so jealous, dummy. You know I’m yours.”

“Still. You can’t.”

“Yes, yes. What do you want me to do? Send a video of us playing the pocky game to him?”

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!”

jake ji / ji hakho

This scenario with Jake is just sooo fitting.

You guys are having a cooking date together at your house. Wanting to bake a cake for your mother’s birthday.

“Jake, we have all the ingredients, right?”

“Yep, I checked it already.”

“Alright, let’s start.”

(okay, you two are also arguably in nomination for cutest couple on this list right after Ben)

Tying each other’s apron, you rolled your sleeves. Grabbing the mixing bowl to start making the batter.

The whole afternoon consisted of you spilling flour all over the place, Jake accidentally cracking an eggshell into the batter, flour fight, hand mixing since the mixer mysteriously malfunctioned, getting tired hand mixing, double checking the recipe, another flour fight, switching with each other every ten seconds to mix the batter.

And finally, it’s done and in the oven. All ready to bake.

You smiled as you watch the batter rise in the oven, content that you could actually get it done. (neither of you have any baking experience)

“Mm.”

You felt a pat on your shoulder and turned your head to the side, only to be met with Jake holding a pocky stick in his mouth at you. Pointing at it while gesturing for you to come closer.

You shake your head, complying to him for once. He did helped you with the cake and cleaning up after all.

Biting through the pocky stick steadily, he held you by the side of your face as he inches closer.

A ding broke the two of you apart.

You were turning to check on the cake when Jake brought you back to his lips. Making you smile, but still try to pull away.

“Whyyy?”

“Jake, I need to check on the cake.”

donald na / na baekjin

“Stop smoking, it makes you ugly.”

“You say that and you have a cigarette in your mouth right now.”

You both have been trying to quit smoking for a while now (y/n has a tough life too, go easy on them), really feeling like you should start caring for your health these days.

So, it became your new year’s resolution.

But still, old habits die hard.

The two of you still find yourselves buying packs of cigarettes mindlessly and only remembering that you’re quitting after.

“Damn it.”

Naturally, you had to come up with some ground rules.

Opening the jar you guys keep in his office, you take a pocky stick out.

“Donald. Aaa~”

You handed him the end that’s covered in chocolate, putting the plain end into your mouth.

Donald pulled you onto arms as he took the stick into his mouth. Biting away since he knew you disliked chocolate.

You moved your body, sitting him down on his chair once the treat has disappeared into your mouths.

You pressed your lips onto him, tasting the residual chocolate on his tongue.

“Baby, what’s the point of this if you won’t even eat the damn chocolate?”

“Shh. I just need to develop a new addiction.”

wolf keum / keum seongje

It was during Ganghak’s school festival.

His class decided that they can use Wolf’s fame and good looks to rile girls into their booth.

The game: You have two minutes to try and make Wolf’s heart rate go higher than yours. Touching is prohibited, from both the player and from Wolf. If Wolf touches you, then the game stops and you win instantly.

Wolf sighed, the heart rate monitor beside him showing a constant 80-84.

So far, they were securing a great profit.

The guys were too damn scared to even approach the booth, and the girls don’t stand a chance with their stammering and stuttering every time Wolf merely look at them.

“Woah. Look at this booth!”

His eyes darted lazily towards you and your friend.

Damn girls again.

“Welcome to our booth. Entrance fee is 2000 Won. Remember, no touching is allowed.”

Hwangmo explained with a friendly tone.

“Y/N, you can do it, can’t you? I reallyyy want that camera, y/n, pleasee.”

You looked at the camera, it was surely a pretty nice prize for a school event.

“What happens if he touches me?”

“Then you automatically win the grand prize.”

“I’ll do it.”

Wolf is still eyeing you from his seat throughout the time Hwangmo sets the heart rate monitor onto you.

“You ready?”

Putting a pocky stick over your mouth, you leaned over towards him.

Wolf raised one of his eyebrows, but complied anyway. Taking the pocky stick into his mouth as you did the same.

With each bite, both of your faces grew closer to each other. And Wolf was doing fine, until he wasn’t.

As the room between both ends of the pocky stick decreases, his heart rate slowly increases.

It was probably around the three centimetres mark that his heart rate began to jump up like crazy.

102.. 117.. 125..

Can’t take it anymore, he held his hands up to your shoulders to stop you from advancing.

“Oh? He touched me.”

Hwangmo watched in disbelief as you walk away with the digital camera in your hand.

In his seat, Wolf can be seen covering his face with the palm of his hand. A shortness of breath and pink was adorned across his cheeks.

“I guess we’re closing in early..? I mean, the grand prize has already been taken-”

“Whatever, I’m out of here.”

#weak hero manhwa #weak hero webtoon #weak hero x reader #ben park #alex go #donald na #jake ji #wolf keum #wolf keum x reader

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majoraop · 3 months

Text

Prisoner Mine

KIDD AWAKES with a jolt, jumping up. He’s still bound to the floor, but at least he’s sitting now. It takes some time for his senses to adjust, then he frowns at his new reality: captivity. Captivity in Wano.

Being a low-ranking underling is not fitting for a pirate of Kidd’s calibre, so he’s rejected Kaido’s proposal, but this decision has meant the end of freedom: his own, his men’s, and especially Killer’s. Kidd clenches his jaw, his narrowed eyes two red slits in the dim light of dawn. The cell is sodden in the early morning; a regular person would have frozen by now, but he’s used to travelling across all kinds of seas even in absurd weather conditions.

Kidd yaws through his spinning head and throbbing temples. He has never had a night of good sleep since being imprisoned. To survive, he has imposed on himself to rest only a few minutes or hours at most, yet voices or noises or demons—imaginary and not—would unfailingly wake him up. Sometimes, it’s the weeping or screaming; some other times, the rumbling of his starving stomach or the wailing in pain of a fellow inmate. Finally, there are the nightmares: losing his ship, losing his crew, losing his dream… everything. But more than being tired, injured, and hungry, Kidd is angry. Most of all, he is furious.

I need to get out of here.

He shall be King of the Pirates, not Kaido’s slave!

Then, Kidd remembers the seastone shackles binding his arm. He curses under his breath. He has been doing that—cursing, resisting the urge to give up, and then cursing again—for weeks. That has become his daily routine: almost a new hobby of his. After all, pirates are excellent at finding ways to pass the time, a skill particularly useful when you’re out at sea, stuck in calm waters, without anything better to do while waiting for the wind again to rise.

[…]

Some voices catch Kidd’s attention. He sniggers viciously, recognising them. His torturers. They still try to break him every once in a while, but he has not given in. He will not give in. And yet... Kidd won’t admit it even to himself, but he’s relieved that those losers are busy with the new prisoner: a dark-haired young man, scrawny as a knife, eyes bright with life. Kidd has stumbled before those burning torches before: usually joyful, they would turn unfailingly fierce whenever some careless pirate or marine alike dared to hurt Monkey D Luffy’s mates.

Kidd has never believed all the stories about the infamous son of the most wanted man in the world—the leader of the Revolutionary Army—and a Marine Vice Admiral’s grandson. Kidd has never believed them despite Luffy often appearing in newspapers as the protagonist of significant events like the incident at Marineford or, later, the fall of the usurper king of Dressrosa. Kidd scoffs; news is just entertainment, not something telling the truth. Besides, is there is a “truth” to begin with? No… not in a world ruled by false gods whose “justice” is crueller than the very pirates they pretend to protect regular citizens from. Nevertheless, he must admit that the brat is a tough one. Luffy has resisted so far, but the worst has yet to come. Kidd knows what they will do to him since he has gone through it too: Kaido specially trained his men to break prisoners’ will, and they are disgustingly good at it.

At this very moment, Kidd hears the guards outside talking about the poor twig…

“They should leave him to me. I would love to pierce those hateful eyes! Did you see how they looked when he got captured? I assure you, that’s not a slave’s gaze; better to extinguish the flame within, we’ve not time to waste.”

“Forget about it,” the second guard states. “We can’t damage prisoners too much, or they’d become useless. Even if everyone is talking about this Monkey D Luffy, he’s just a kid; he’ll break eventually—like anyone.”

“Not anyone!” Kidd hisses under his breath. He has not broken. Sure, he’s hurt from the injuries and from seeing his own men tortured. The worst, Killer being unable to smile (actually smile) ever again. Nevertheless, Kidd has not yielded. His crew knows and accepts he won’t ever kneel before another man. Kidd is grateful to them, and never submitting to Kaido is his way to repay his companions.

And yet… Killer being forced to swallow a SMILE fruit—it’s been tough to withstand. His first and closest friend, reduced to an emotional mess, crying while forcibly laughing as that cursed fruit infected his blood, mixing with his very DNA to create a freakish being who, no matter what kind of emotion, always and always, unfailingly smiles, accursed images which keep appearing in Kidd’s nightmare-infested nights.

“Then, at least, we could have some fun with him.” The first guard’s voice echoes again beyond Kidd’s cell bars. “This new kid looks quite... nice—if you know what I mean.”

Kidd grimaces at the lustful expressions on the guard’s face as he elbows his pal. More sun rays finally reach even this hellish place, and Kidd can see them better. The air is becoming slightly warmer, but he is not in the mood to appreciate it.

“Queen tried that already,” the second guard replies, “but it didn’t work to break the prisoner’s spirit. Instead, his eyes turned even fiercer… He’s securely shackled and everything, or I bet he would be tearing his bandages off while snapping at anyone coming close to him. He’s like a wild animal!”

Kidd recalls the grunts and muffled screaming of the night before, confirming his suspicions. Kidd’s pride and body have been tarnished, too. He still remembers everything as clearly as if happening all over again: the pain, the shame, the smell.

“Next time, it will be King itself. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Wait, is King into such stuff as well?”

“Naah…” The first guard shakes his head. “…but he’ll do worse.”

Kidd sees the sadistic man licking his lips in anticipation: that bastard is having fun.

After Queen and King and Kaido, I’ll kill you too. I’ll kill every one of you!

Kidd feels the urge to smash the smirk off the guard’s face, but he is suddenly aware he cannot breathe. He feels a cold shiver as his mind forcibly pulls him back into the torture King put him through. He knows what is next for the new prisoner: deprivation of sleep. That’s nearly driven Kidd insane. Close to begging, he has been spared the humiliation only because King has gotten summoned by Kaido in the middle of it. Since then, the winged pirate has luckily been busy with the new inmates.

Kidd closes his eyes. He has gone close to begging. Begging! He feels disgusted with himself for almost breaking, for nearly giving up. His hand trembles so much the seastone shackles clatter, covering the sounds of his rattled breathing.

I must do something.

Soon, the small brat will experience that same hell. Kidd feels something strange. Something new. He tries to analyse what it is. Pity, perhaps? No, not really. Luffy is younger than him, yet a pirate nonetheless. Kidd has injured and tortured, killed countless fellow pirates. He is not a saint—not in the slightest. But he has never tried to enslave people, to break their wills.

No, maybe it’s something else.

Just camaraderie, probably. An expected feeling towards another pirate from the Worst Generation like Kidd himself—and that smug-faced Law.

Trafalgar Law hasn’t broken, either.

Kidd smiles. Maybe there is still hope. Maybe they can work together—just this one time. Maybe, if they fight back to back, they can overthrow even Kaido: the three of them, Eustass Kidd, Monkey D Luffy, and Trafalgar Law—plus other pirates of the Worst Generation like Luffy’s second mate… Maybe, all together, they have a chance.

I don’t like alliances—temporary or perpetual—but I must do this for you.

Kidd’s thoughts get pulled back, hunted once again by the image of his closest friend, Killer, laughing grotesquely as the SMILE curses him. After that, he has not been the same anymore: Killer has picked an alias, masqueraded himself as a ronin, and began wandering.

Please don’t go completely insane before I get out of here.

Kidd scoffs at his own mental plea. Is he starting to get soft? Worst, is his spirit on the brink of breaking? No… So long as a plea, a wish, a foolish hope stays confined within his steel-silent heart, his—their situation is still somewhat, somehow manageable: Kidd’s composure and fame as a cruel pirate will not be affected by just what stays hidden in the depth of his sturdy, rusty soul.

---

On the following day, Eustass Kidd would approach Monkey D Luffy.

No longer after that, every man and woman confined in Prisoner Mine would regain their freedom in the wake of the breakout preceding Kaido’s fall and the return of Nika, the Liberator of the People.

My story for the One Piece Big Bang 2023, kindly illustrated by @ninhaoma-ya with two colourful fanarts of Kidd and Luffy! ^^ artwork #1 | artwork #2

CONTENT WARNING: Mention of off-screen torture and abuse (without graphic descriptions).

RELATIONSHIPS: Kidd & Killer, Kidd & Luffy.

TAGS: eustass kid; eustass kidd; prisoner mine; wano; canon-divergence; angst

SPOILERS: up to the ending of Wano

SUMMARY: Despite being locked up in Prisoner Mine, Eustass Kidd won't break. One day, a new prisoner gets locked there, too: Monkey D Luffy. While pondering about his situation and the fate of Killer and his other crewmates, Kidd hears the guards talking about Luffy and ultimately decides to approach the younger pirate.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: “Prisoner Mine” is a slightly canon-divergence fanfic (but with the same outcome as in the manga/anime) featuring a darker take on some of the Wano events. Not much plot involved, just exploring Kidd's thoughts and experimenting with a new writing style. I couldn’t get a beta reader for this story, so if you find anything to fix please let me know!

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puffpasstea · 1 year

Note

if you’re still taking requests, do you think you could do a dom/sub piece after Alice and harry become bf/gf? Maybe a punishment or something? So curious how their dynamic would be! Your writing is incredible btw

Hi babes!! Thanks so much for your kindness and for the request! I tried to do something slightly different here, to show their new dynamic, but I’m not sure if it worked or not. So would love thoughts/feedback. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

warnings: smut, angst, dom!harry. ��—

My relationship with Harry may not have been my first ever relationship, but it certainly felt that way. It was my first adult, long-term relationship. And it was the first time I ever felt genuinely in love with the person I was with. So, everything we did together felt meaningful and special. Especially the first few months.

The first time that we had sex as a couple, I was an emotional wreck. I’d expected it to be just like all the other times that we had hooked up in the past. But Harry was gentle, sweet, and took his time. He went slow, held me close, showered me with love. Of course he was still Harry. So he made a few silly jokes, smugly reminded me that he can now finally make love to me. Breaking my old rule.

The intense emotions this induced overwhelmed me. I had no way of navigating through them, as he whispered “loved you from the moment we met. You were always more than sex to me. You’re so perfect,”so I attempted to shut them down. Urging Harry to go faster, harder, to ignore me or be mean. But he only wrapped his fingers around my neck, whispering in my ear that he loved me, wanted me to feel good, wanted me to look him in the eyes so he could see the pleasure I was feeling. Afterwards, he held me to his chest, reminding me that I don’t have to pull away anymore, that it’s his job to look after me now. The release was intense. Physically and emotionally. I sobbed into his chest, but that didn’t seem to faze him. Falling asleep in his arms, and not having to rush out in the morning, or kick him out in the middle of the night, or sneak away before he could wake up was the greatest relief I’d ever felt.

Our first date was similarly perfect. Almost disgustingly perfect. We dressed up. He brought me flowers. Held doors open for me. Blushed as he flirted, touched my hand gently over the dinner table. Even though it felt like we already knew each other, he insisted that he was doing this “the right way.” Not just for the good of our relationship, whether we break up tomorrow or get married ten years from now, he wanted me to always have this memory as a standard for how I should expect to be treated my a partner. He was unbelievably sweet. I couldn’t believe that perfect moments like this were happening to me. That I got actually experience them. I’d always assumed that love like this only existed in the fantasies of naive adults who had never struggled a day in their lives to know what the real world was like; or in escapist romcoms that were written to be detached from reality and make you forget the cruelty of your own life, if only temporarily. I was never a fan of such fantasies because I always felt like the unrealistic expectations they set only ever ended in disappointment. Not to mention the heightened pain of realizing that my life will never even come close. Suddenly, here I was, living the fantasy. It was unsettling. But you’d be surprised what humans are capable of getting used to.

Maybe it was the distance. Harry always traveling meant that we could only be together a few weeks at a time, most of the year. Especially if he was coming out with new music, touring, or promoting a film. So, whenever we got to be together, we tended to stay in our happy, little bubble. Savoring every moment, avoiding arguments, sweeping any conflicts quickly under the rug so as not to “sour” the precious time we have left together or waste it on fighting. Things seemed to be wonderful. That is until Harry’s tour ended, and he was finally home. Indefinitely…

***

I woke up in the morning, my heart skipping a beat when I remembered that Harry was home, smiling to myself, I reached over to his side of the bed with my eyes still closed, attempting to pull myself closer to him. My arm landed on empty bedsheets. I felt around for him, but his spot was cold. He’d gotten out of bed a while ago.

My eyes fluttered open, gradually adjusting to the sunlight peering through fabric of the curtains. Looking around me, the state of the bedroom reminded me of last night. The empty plate on the nightstand had contained the aftercare snacks that Harry had hand-fed me as I laid in his arms, half asleep, barely feeling my legs after the number of orgasms that he’d coaxed out of me. The bottle of lube and nipple clamps on the floor were self-explanatory. My fingers subconsciously ran over my breasts, checking to see if my nipples still hurt. Only a little bit. But the memories made me miss Harry’s body on top of mine, his warmth wrapping us both, his hands around me, whispering encouragement into my ear, “it’s okay, darlin.’ It’s okay to let go. Go on; I’ve got you…you look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” Fuck, I wanted him. Where was he, anyway, and why wasn’t he here right now, holding me the way that he did last night? He usually woke me up with a cup of coffee in bed. It was my favorite thing about waking up every morning. Hearing his voice gently drag me out of sleep, feeling his breath on my face as he’d give me a morning kiss and wait for me to sit up before handing me the mug. Waking up without him was awful in comparison.

I got out of bed, too impatient to make the bed, wash my face or get ready for the day before I ran downstairs to find Harry, my feet sliding across the stairs dangerously. An involuntary smile took over my lips as soon as I spotted the back of his head. He was sitting in the living room, with his laptop on the couch, typing away. I expected the loud noise of my footsteps to be enough to alert him to my presence, but he didn’t move.

“M- umm- good morning.” I cleared my throat, my voice still strained from sleep.

It took Harry a moment, but he eventually turned around as I approached the couch. I could see him more clearly now. His hair had been styled, he was in a hoodie and his staple ripped jeans, his glasses on his face. He looked so good and comfortable. A contrast to the way he had looked last night without his shirt on, his taught muscles flexing as he thrusted into me, his face flushed, meaning in pleasure. The memories replayed in my head again, I bit my lower lip and I swear I felt my thighs clench together. Gosh, the things this man does to me.

“Oh, hey Alice.” He mumbled, sparing me a glance before going back to his laptop.

Alice? He almost never calls me that. Had I done something wrong? Had I upset him? I squinted, watching his face for further signs. He did smile at me, briefly, but it took him a while. Like his face had needed to catch up to his brain, or something. A small hint of almost imperceptible anxiety began to creep into my body. Something doesn’t feel right. If it weren’t for the computer in his lap right now, I’d be sitting there, making him kiss me. I thought for a moment before it occurred to me that I still had access to his cheeks and lips. Hesitating slightly, I shrugged off my doubt and went in for a morning kiss.

“Hi.” He smiled as we pulled away, his dimples flashing. I felt him relax into the couch.

Okay, maybe things were fine. I perched on the couch next to him, sliding myself under his arm and snuggling into his side as he’d returned to typing. His hoodie smelled of to tobacco, ginger, and vanilla. His signature cologne, no doubt. My mind had come to associate that cologne bottle with warmth and comfort. Harry was ingrained into my subconscious. He smelled like home. We were definitely in it for the long haul. I sighed audibly, closing my eyes, and feeling his chest rise and fall steadily as he breathed.

“You sleepy?” He asked.

“No, no. Just…love you.”

“Hmm.”

What, no ‘love you too?’ I guess I was back to worrying.

“So, have you had coffee yet? I could make us some. It’ll be my turn this time.” I pulled away from him to watch his face for a reaction.

“Hmm? W-wait what did you ask?” He finally stopped typing long enough to look at me.

“I asked if you wanted some coffee.”

“Oh! Oh, no. I’m all good I’ve already had some.”

“When?” I didn’t expect that declaration to sting as much as it did. Not only had he not brought me coffee this morning, he’d had some without me.

“Before I went to the gym.”

“You went to the gym?! When did you do that?”

“What’s with the interrogation, Alice? I went while you were asleep.” He went back to typing once again.

“Not Alice!”

“Pardon? What’d you say?” He wasn’t even listening.

“N-nothing.”

I got up, looking back at him, waiting for him to ask where I was going, but I’m not even sure he noticed that I’d left. I considered going into the kitchen and getting started on breakfast, but I really just wanted to spend time with Harry. I turned around “S-so, what’re you working on anyway?”

“Hmm?”

God, he has no interest in my presence at all. Giving up, I left him to his work and went to get started with my day.

***

That evening, we had plans to have dinner with Jeff and Glenne. When we arrived at the restaurant, Jeff informed us that Glenne had been feeling under the weather and decided to skip dinner and get to bed early. It was just going to be the three of us. I didn’t mind it too much. I’d developed a certain degree of tolerance for Jeff since Harry and I had started officially dating. He was important to Harry, so it was important that I got to know him. Plus, I really liked spending time Glenne, so it worked out fine. But, the problem with tonight was in the fact that Harry was still being weird. He wasn’t returning any of my regular gestures. In spite of myself, I’d grown accustomed to his normal displays of affections. Even in public, and whenever we were around his friends, Harry always had a hand on my thigh, held my hand in his under the table, or wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. Tonight, he wasn’t doing any of it. In fact, he and Jeff had fallen into talking about work, and his arms were gesticulating wildly as he explained something too technical for me to understand and asked if Jeff had gotten his email from this morning. In other words, his hands were nowhere near my body.

I felt cold and small. I wasn’t sure if it was just the air conditioning vent blasting directly onto my exposed neck, or the fact that I’ve craved Harry’s touch all day. It was certainly, at least a little bit, to do with the fact that I felt like I’d done something wrong. Ever since this morning, the guilt has been growing in the back of my mind. The worst part of it is that I felt guilty without knowing why. Perhaps he’s grown sick of me. Perhaps our honeymoon phase is over. Maybe being at home together 24/7 has finally shown him what kind of person I really am, and he’s having second thoughts about us being together. The idea of Harry no longer wanting me terrified me. I got up, and went to the bar to order a drink.

***

I was a few drinks in, my surroundings felt fuzzy, but the gentleman across the bar from me had a nice smile, I let him keep the refills coming as we made conversation. He seemed to find everything that I said completely fascinating.

“You teach college students? That’s so cool! How many students do you have in your class?”

I blushed at the thought of anyone taking an interest in what I do; let alone a complete stranger who had no obligation to listen to me ramble about my job.

“Like 20 in each. I only just started, so I have to teach three courses. Most established professors will only teach two per semester.”

“So, you’re young then.” He had a hint of something in his voice. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It felt like that statement was saying more than referring to my relative youth in my field of work.

I leaned in closer to him, brushing a stand of hair from my face. Whatever I’d been ready to say in response went flying out of my mind as I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” Harry’s green eyes were staring down at me, a firm and withholding expression on his face. He wrapped an arm around my waist announcing that “we’re leaving.” Placing a few hundred dollar bills on the counter, he gestured for the bartender to keep the change and walked me out.

I felt suffocated by his hold. “Get off me!” I shoved him, or at least that was the intent, but it felt like he had shoved me, I could barely stand on my own two feet after pushing that much force into his chest. Harry, on the other hand, barely felt it. He grabbed ahold of me again, stopping me from tripping over my heels and crashing to the floor.

“You’re drunk.” He said through gritted teeth, guiding me to the car and helping me inside.

***

The car ride was quiet. In fact, we didn’t even speak at home. We both got ready for bed in complete silence, occasionally crossing paths at the closet or the bathroom. Harry was already in bed by the time that I was ready to crawl in next to him. Seeing me come in, he sat up in his spot and watched me slide under the duvet.

“Care to explain yourself?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“‘Bout what?”

“I thought you hated drinking. Thought it made you anxious. So, what’s up with all of this tonight?”

I shrugged, looking down at my hands as they clung to the duvet.

“What’s going on with you?” Harry wasn’t letting go.

“N-nothin,’ Harry. Just thought I’d try something new.”

“And you chose drinking and cheating?”

“Well, I’m not wasted! And what do you mean ‘cheating’ who’s cheating?”

“Honey, did you not see how that man was looking at you? And you didn’t seem too mad about it either. You were flirting with him all night! I watched you!”

“Oh, so you do care what happens to me, then? Okay, good to know. Cuz I wasn’t sure about that, to be honest.”

“Alice, what on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s not Alice! Okay? It’s not! Stop calling me that. It’s MATILDA!” Tears rolled down my cheeks, I hid my face in my hands, turning away from Harry and sobbing loudly. I felt pathetic.

“B-baby, what’s the matter? Why’re you crying?” Harry’s voice was softer now, I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder, a shudder traveling down my spine. There was the touch that I’d longed for all day. Harry noticed the goosebumps on my skin and rubbed a finger across them. “Honey, are you cold?”

I didn’t budge. Not because I was trying to be stubborn but because I knew that if I tried to look at him or talk to him, I’d just keep crying.

Harry sat closer to me and pulled me into his chest with one hand, using the other to pull the duvet up and cover me with it. “There we go. Should warm you right up.” He rubbed circles into my back. “Please talk to me, my love. What’s made you so sad?”

“You!” I blurted out before I could think about my answer or attempt to stop my crying.

“Me? What have I done?? Hardly said two words to you all day.”

“Exactly!”

“Sorry, what? I don’t follow….help me out here.”

“You’ve been pulling away. We’ve been…falling into a routine. I- I just- I think maybe you’re getting too used to me. I’m not exciting anymore. I’m not shiny and new. I- I wanted to be new again. I wanted you to remember why you’re with me.”

“And you thought the best way to do that was to go spend time with another man?”

Harry’s logic had made my feelings seem like a gross overreaction. I knew I wasn’t the healthiest partner, but this was embarrassing.

“Yes! No! That part wasn’t- I didn’t-“

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I think maybe that part was about more than that. I- you’ve been weird all day. I hate that. I hate feeling like I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, I haven’t…, baby, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You didn’t wake me like you always do. You didn’t bring me coffee like you always do. It’s not that you didn’t have time or you were busy. You made the coffee. You actually made it. You just decided to have it by yourself instead. Without me. You haven’t hugged or kissed me all day. Every time that I’ve tried to kiss you, you’ve been cold. Going through the motions. Just waiting for me to get it over with. You haven’t even looked me in the eye! When we were out, you- you didn’t hold my hand under the table like you always do. Didn’t pull my chair out for me like you always do.”

Harry’s face was twisted in unease but he listened to me rant without interruption. Even when my tears fell again, he breathed and silently waited for me to carry on.

“If I’ve done something wrong then just tell me! If you’re sick of me then dump me! Please, just dump me and put me out of my misery. I hate this. I hate being treated like this. Makes me feel like I’m a teenager right back in my parents house. Like their love is conditional and I have to earn it by being interesting all the time. I don’t wanna lose you like I lost them. Just toss me aside if you’re done with me. Let me go cuz if you’re just waiting around for me to do it…I won’t.”

Harry’s lips interrupted my crying by kissing me. His kiss was demanding, intense, breathless, he wouldn’t let up, and when I tried to pull away, his hand on the back of my neck pulled me back in.

He tore himself away, hesitantly when his lungs had run out of air. Gasping for breath, he mumbled. “you’re so dumb sometimes.” He laughed.

“W-what?”

“Falling into a routine in a relationship is a good thing. It means it’s getting real. We’re past the fairytale phase. We’re getting into the real life stuff now.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way.

“And, for your information, I didn’t bring you coffee this morning because I didn’t wanna wake you. I didn’t wanna wake you because we went to bed real late last night. After the things I did to your body, I thought it deserved some rest and recovery. Woulda stayed in bed with you like I always do, but I had an early meeting this morning! With the label. About starting my next album. Was gonna surprise you with a couple of song drafts if you’d given me a chance to actually finish drafting them before you woke up. Do you hear what I’m saying? I’m saying I wasn’t intentionally withholding my affection from you as a form of punishment or warning that you were no longer interesting to me! The fact that you’d think that about me is…honestly concerning.”

“Harry-“

“But that’s not what hurts me the most.”

“It’s not?”

“What hurts the most is that, instead of talking to me about how you feel, you not only jumped to conclusions, but went ahead and found someone else to spend your time with. What- were you trying to prove that you’re still attractive? That you could replace me if need be? Or were you trying to make me jealous?”

“I’m sorry.”

“We have rules about communication for a reason. Do you know how much easier this whole thing would’ve been if you’d just talked to me instead? We’ve had this conversation before! Haven’t I always asked you to be honest with me?”

I nodded, too timid to speak. I uttered an apology too meek to be heard, but the sympathy in his eyes let me know that he knew I didn’t mean to hurt him.

“I fucked up. Like I always do. I….deserve a punishment.” I announced.

“You do. But not tonight.”

“Why not?! Please, Harry-“

“Won’t do anything with you tonight. Not after you’ve been drinking. For now, you’re gonna spend the night in the guest room. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

“No, please- Harry, please. Anything but the guest room. Please! Wanna be with you. Want you to hold me, please?”

“If you’d chosen to talk to me like a real human being, maybe we could’ve done that tonight. We don’t get to though. Cuz you ruined it for both of us. Now, off you go.”

***

The next morning, I woke up to Harry knocking on my door with a tray full of food and coffee, alongside it some painkillers and his weird green sludgy hangover concoctions.

I was feeling pliant and submissive after spending the night alone, thinking about his words, and wishing he were with me. I hardly slept, knowing he was a few feet away from me, knowing that I had hurt him with my actions, and mostly worried that I was too fucked up and broken for a healthy relationship. I felt terrible and wanted nothing more than to make it up to him. I wanted to sink to my knees and beg for forgiveness, to kiss him from head to toe, to tell him to be patient with me as I work this out. I was one stern look away from sub-space, so I did exactly as he told me and waited eagerly for his gentle touch.

“You feeling alright?”

“Mhm. A bit nauseous but I’m okay.”

He smiled, handing me the omelette he’s made. “This’ll help. And take those pills after.”

“Yes, sir.” Slipped out of my mouth without even thinking. I reached for the coffee instantly, welcoming the taste and comfort it gave me.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For everything. Last night. And being mad at you. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll see about that.” Harry winked at me, taking his own coffee mug and sipping on it.

***

We spent the morning together, mostly Harry making sure my hangover doesn’t take over. I let him fuss over me though, only because I wanted to be near him. I was feeling needier than I knew how to admit, and I didn’t exactly know why. But having him order me to hydrate every hour at least gave me the reassurance that he wasn’t angry with me and that he still cared about my well-being. At least I hadn’t completely ruined our relationship.

We eventually parted ways to get to our own jobs and we met back at dinner. I made all his favorite foods, still attempting to apologize and make it up to him, but we both knew that I wasn’t going to relax until he’d punished me, so, when, after dinner, he told me to go upstairs and strip naked, I almost tripped over my feet running into the bedroom.

***

“You know I love you right?” Harry’s hand ran up the sides of my body and settled around my neck. “Cuz I’m about to hurt you like I hate you.” So, tell me.

I struggled to get the words out, and not because he was lightly choking me. The words felt too presumptuous. Like I hadn’t earned the right to say them, but I didn’t want to upset him any more than I already have. “I- I know- you love me, sir.”

Harry smiled, amused. “Good. Your safe words?”

“Green for good to go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop completely.”

“Good girl.”

Harry spun me around so I was now facing the wall, my hands resting against it for stability. He kicked my legs open. And warned “stay still. Don’t you squirm.”

“Yes, sir.”

I could hear Harry make his way around the room behind me, but I couldn’t dare turn around to see what he was doing. My breath grew shallow in anticipation, my skin tingled. Finally, I heard the rustling and movement of the metal buckles on his belt and braced myself for what I knew was coming.

The leather of the belt crackled in the air and hit my skin. I swallowed a moan, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing heavily.

I heard Harry hum in satisfaction at my stillness.

“T-thank you, sir.” I croaked out, feeling grateful that he was even giving me the chance to make it up to him.

“Well, that’s polite of you.” I heard the surprise in his voice. “Won’t make me go easy on you though.”

“P-please don’t, sir. I deserve it-“

My words instantly vanished when the next slap of the belt sucked the air right out of me.

“Yes, you do.”

Harry delivered one hit after the other, I’d lost count, somewhere after 23, as my head got fuzzy and my awareness of my surroundings began to fade. It was difficult to tell if it was the pain blurring my mind, or the flood of pleasure and submission overwhelming me as I sunk deeper. It gradually became impossible to keep perfectly still, and I was now whimpering and crying, as softly as I could. I still didn’t want to make it difficult for Harry, but I could no longer contain my cries.

I have no idea how many hits his belt had delivered before I heard it fall to the ground and felt Harry’s hand between my folds.

“You’re wet.” He said, kneeling between my shaking legs and running his finger between my lips. “You seem to be enjoying this punishment a little too much.”

I didn’t know what to say. My body has spoken for me. But it felt disrespectful to acknowledge it. I wasn’t supposed to be having fun right now. This wasn’t about my pleasure. At the same time, I always liked everything that Harry did to me.

“N-no, sir. I-uh” Harry’s damp fingers had found my clit, gently rubbing it in circles and making me moan.

“Sure sounds like it, puppy.” He laughed.

“I-I would never enjoy you being angry with me, sir.”

“That so?”

My legs were shaking as Harry continued to rub between my legs, I was so close to cumming, but I didn’t think I’d be allowed to.

“F-fuck, sir-“

Just like that, Harry withdrew his hand and replaced it with a kick from his shoe-covered foot, hitting me squarely in the middle of my cunt.

With a guttural grunt, I fell to my knees.

“Pathetic.” He shook his head.

Over the next few minutes, Harry delivered a few more kicks, alternating in pattern and pace to keep me guessing. By the end of it, I was a sobbing, wet mess.

“Up on your knees, c’mon.”

I pulled my face off the floor with whatever strength I had left as Harry came closer, his crotch at eye-level with me. I knew what was expected of me in that moment; he was already unbuttoning his pants. I found it difficult to stay balanced on my mushy knees, so I leaned on his legs, nuzzling my face into his thigh and breathing.

“You alright, my love?”

I nodded.

“What’s your color, Alice? Give me a safe word, honey…”

“G-green.” I mumbled after a long pause. Harry wasn’t buying if. He placed his hand on his thigh next to my face. “Take my hand. Squeeze it if you’re good to keep going.”

“I-I’m okay, sir. Just weak.”

Harry laughed. “We’re nowhere near done. You wanna stop here? It’s okay if you want to tap out.”

“N-no, no. Please. Punish me, sir. Please. I- I wanna do this. I can take it. May I suck your cock?” My shaky fingers grabbed the waist of his pants to pull them down.

“Hey, hey, hold on a minute. Look at me.”

Harry’s eyes studied my face discerningly for a moment. “Alright, go on, then. Do it.”

I pulled Harry’s pants down, and took his hardening cock out of his boxers, wrapping my lips slowly around his tip, his moans a pleasure to my ears.

“May I touch?” I mumbled around him, my voice on his tip seemingly amplifying his pleasure.

“F-fuck- yes. Yes, you may…ahhh, that’s a good girl. Just like that.” I wrapped my hands at the base of his cock stroking him in sync with my tongue. Harry’s hips bucked involuntarily, pushing him further into my mouth, causing me to gag.

“Easy, easy, just breathe through it. Good girl. Get it nice and wet.”

The more I could hear his high pitched moans, the more eager I was to go faster, harder, make him cum. But Harry pulled himself out of my mouth, causing me to whine, and , upon losing his stabilizing presence, I almost fell flat on my face before he grabbed me.

“Sorry, sir. Uh, my knees-“

I felt harry’s arms lift me off the floor as he stood up, carrying me to the bed.

Tossing me onto the bed so I was laying on my back, Harry pushed my legs apart, lining himself up with me and thrusting in smoothly.

“Fuck, you’re wet. And tight. Feel so good, baby.”

All I could do is whine and cry.

“No cumming!” He warned as he felt me clench around him.

“N-no, sir. Won’t cum without permission, I - I- ahhhh - promise.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s thrusts got sloppier and harder quickly, I could tell that he, too, was close.

“Can- can I come, sir? Please?”

“No.”

“Please, sir. P-please. Don’t think I can hold it much longer. Don’t wanna do it without permission, please.”

“Hold it. Hold it, or so help me god, Matilda!”

I felt my chest bubble with relief, tears rolling down my face.

“S-sir, please?”

“Shut up and take it like a good girl.”

My cunt was already sensitive and bruised from his earlier kicking, it was now unbelievable sensitive. I screamed in pain every time Harry pulled halfway out only to thrust harder again and again.

“H-hold- please, hold my hand, sir? It’s too much. I- I need…please hold my hand?”

He contemplated it for a moment before relenting and taking my hand in his.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Harry smiled at me. “You wanna come? Hmm? I’m gonna count down, okay?”

I nodded vigorously, almost crying with gratitude.

“Three”

He thrust in all the way.

“Two”

Another thrust.

“One.”

He pulled all the way out and stroked himself to his climax, finishing all over my stomach, and leaving me empty, clenching around nothing, my orgasm ruined.

“It hurts- sir. Ow, really really hurts.” I broke down sobbing.

“You’re not cumming for a week.”

#Dom!harry #Harry styles #Harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #dom!harry styles #dom!h

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arcticlegend · 2 years

Note

How about the reader helping Vergil bond with Nero

Alright! Finally finished!!! It's longer Than I intended, but I had a whole Lotta fun writing it!

❤Enjoy!!! Don't forget to like and reblog! They feed the beast!!! Also, I love interacting with people, so comments are great!!! Love you guys!❤

He just couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to make conversation. He never was good at it, but surely was capable of speaking to others when he absolutely needed to. So… why was this so taxing? He stood there beside his son and the one that would soon be his daughter-in-law, Kyrie, a beautiful young woman with long auburn hair. She was disgustingly kind to him, even after everything, and didn’t hesitate to try to pull him in, help give their talk direction, and was sure to urge him to speak. It was still hard to think of anything to say to Nero when all he could hear in his head was that he had abandoned him. He didn’t know about Nero, couldn’t fathom the idea of kids at the time, but here he was looking at the spitting image of himself and that young woman from Fortuna he had spent nights with.

“So… you haven’t been back for very long AND you haven’t visited our place yet! How about you come by for dinner sometime!”

He had been to their home-in their garage to be more specific, where he tore off his son’s arm to reclaim Yamato. He remembered staring down at Nero as he held his bleeding stump where his arm had previously been, screaming out for him to wait. He remembered what it had felt like to not care one bit about him. He was thankful he didn’t hurt him worse than he already had and it made him slightly nauseous at the idea of treading back by that space.

“Kyrie… It’s fine, really.”

Nero sounded uncomfortable, as if he didn’t want him there. Vergil understood, but it still hurt. It was still why he stood here in this painfully awkward situation, because he wanted so desperately to be close to the son he left behind. He had experienced that life-the life of an orphan, roaming like a lost dog trying to find some sort of direction. Nero wasn’t too far from that, though he seemed to be raised by a good family, he was ignorant to his true heritage and the honor that came with it. He had suffered a great deal and after all this time being alone, he at least wanted to be there now while he can.

“Well, you are welcome anytime! If you ever want to come by, our home will always be open to you!”

Normally, her sweetness was too much for him, made his stomach tighten in knots, but something about being welcome somewhere, like a home, felt nice. It was a warm feeling that just sort of washed over him as he looked down at this young woman that stared up at him with her bright, doe eyes.

“Thank you.”

It was all that came to mind, looking up to meet his son’s uneasy expression, noting that it was probably time to walk away before Nero decided to. He turned to leave and at the young woman’s prodding, finally looked over his shoulder to respond.

“I have some business to take care of elsewhere. I will return to the shop later today.”

Kyrie smiled and wished him a safe trip, though she didn’t know how far he was going. It made him smirk, thinking about how Nero had found someone so good for him. It made him picture you.

He had been meaning to make it up to you, everything he had done to make everyone (especially you) miserable over the past few years. Everything leading up to he and his brother falling into the underworld or even the very first time he fell had caused much trouble for many a bystander.

He had hurt you.

Dante had told him as much about how you couldn’t function for nearly a month, how you suffered while trying not to imagine what had become of him. He couldn’t remember everything that happened down there, just that he had become a tool for Mundus to control and that his “death” by Dante’s hand had caused you great pain. Worse, his brother had mentioned how she had been more crushed by the idea that Vergil chose to fall into hell rather than just go back with you to somewhere safe.

He held so much regret in his heart. He had become a monster when he lost it and it was you who showed it to him, reminded him that it was still somewhere inside of him.

“Vergil!” you exclaimed, but apparently realized that you had sounded too excited and tapered it down, “What brings you here?” He looked from the floor back to your eyes, not wanting to ask to be let in, hoping you would just offer. It made him nervous to intrude on you. He had caused you so much trouble already and to come to your home unannounced? He wasn’t sure what you felt about it, whether it was okay or not.

“Verge? Is everything alright?”

You had noticed his predicament, noticed the anxiety that he usually kept well hidden behind thick layers of steel. It was always you, however, slicing right through it like his blade, seeing through him as if he were translucent.

“I need your assistance.”

It was how you said his name that calmed him just enough to speak. It was the nickname you had given him over a decade back, back when things were just a bit simpler, back before he knew he had a child somewhere in Fortuna.

You had stepped aside to let him into your little home. It wasn’t too far away from Dante’s shop, so whenever there was a call, you could be there with enough time to spare. It was small, but somehow felt spacious and he took great pleasure in noting the stacks of books on your few shelves.

“You read?”

You scoffed playfully, bright eyes full of life blinked up at him with a brow cocked, “Of course I do, silly! I would read a bit around the time we met, but your recommendations really kept me on it. They were all very good.”

He recognized most of the books in the stack, confirming that he had, in fact, recommended them. Some of his memories were clouded after the split and unity of his two selves, though he couldn’t imagine why he would have needed to forget things about you.

“Take a seat! Make yourself at home… well, as much as you can.” You chuckled awkwardly but took a seat on your sofa, grabbing for the mug of tea on your lamp table. You took a quick sip, your eyes closed as you hummed in pleasure, clearly enjoying the blend.

“Oh! Would you like a sip of mine? It’s very good! Don’t worry, my mouth his as clean as it will get today.”

Not that he would’ve minded… After all he very much remembered his tongue exploring that mouth of yours during their more intimate times. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say no, but something compelled him to take what you offered, to drink from that warm mug because he knew you made the best tea. He gladly accepted the plain, white mug in his cool hands and savored how the warmth melted through his fingers, felt as if they were thawing though they weren’t frozen to begin with.

“So, what’s the problem, big guy.”

“Come on big guy, we’re going to be late for your violin lesson! You know your father gets upset when you’re behind…”

He snapped out of it, not wanting to compare you to his mother, not wanting to think about that at all. Instead, he came here for something tangible, something he could reach out to.

“My son, Nero… I would like to be closer, but am unsure how… I try to speak to him, but he treats me as though he doesn’t want me there. I’ve missed out on so much that it feels like there’s nothing more to say. I cannot teach him anything… He is already an adult and living well on his own. He’s to be wedded to that young woman soon. I don’t…”

You scooted closer to him and he lifted up the mug so he didn’t spill at as you leaned on his arm, reaching out for the tea he had already drank half of. It should’ve been weird. He should’ve flinched away from you and stood up, but he didn’t. He simply basked in the warmth of your body against his after so long without it.

“You want to bond with your son? Hmmm…” you took a long and thoughtful sip of your tea, looking up at the photographs of your newfound family as well as the one picture of the real one you had lost long ago. “What was that promise you made to him when you left, hmm?”

Promise?

Right. He had told Nero right before he jumped into hell alongside his brother, knowing that his son needed to know they were coming back.

“I won’t lose next time.”

It wasn’t as much of a promise to fight again as it was a promise that he would return, but Nero was much like his uncle when it came to fighting, though instead of the lust for the challenge, it was more of a desire to prove himself. From their last fight, he was more than worthy, but at the time, Vergil was worn down a lot from the previous battles.

Would this even work? Starting a duel with his son to try and fix their tattered relationship seemed strange even to him. Sure, that worked with Dante, but his brother was a totally different case no matter how similar Nero was.

“I’m unsure… Fighting Nero seems…”

You pushed air between your teeth and bottom lip, trying to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat as something had tickled your brain. You looked to be fighting an internal battle, deciding whether or not to share it with him.

“WELL! You could also read him bedtime stories, bring him his favorite blankie and maybe make him a bottle! He might like that!”

This was serious to him, but you knew that, being adamant that your first idea would work somehow, but what did he know? He knew nothing about his son and you had been friends with him for years. How could he question your judgement when you knew his own son better than he did?

“Foolish.”

He took the mug from your hands, finishing off the last sip, careful not to get the tea leaf crumbs past his lips. He couldn’t help but feel satisfaction as you pouted up at him. It made him forget why he was nervous in the first place. You were like home to him. Every time he saw you, the feeling of not needing to be anywhere else settled deep in his bones.

“Eh. So when are you doing this?” you asked, setting the mug down in front of you on the coffee table. That was a good question. He wasn’t entirely sure when would be a good time to initiate, but figured because he had already told Kyrie that he was returning, he might as well do it before night fall.

“Today. There’s enough time left while the sun is still up.”

You clapped your hands together enthusiastically and stood, “Alright then! Can’t be late! Oh, I’m coming along too, by the way. I just can’t help myself.” His face twisted in confusion as he watched you grab for your coat. “I wouldn’t want to miss Nero wiping the floor with you.” You smiled that impish little grin at him. He knew you meant nothing malicious with your words, only that you liked to rile him up, get some playful banter going. Most of the time he brushed it off and didn’t fall into your trap… but sometimes?

“You think so?”

He could almost see the fire burning hot in your eyes as he took you up on your challenge, watching the excitement grow.

“Oh, you better know it, Verge. That boy will just tear you apart and when he does…?” You got real close, your lips almost a coin width away from his own, your breath warm with every intoxicating inhale. “… You can bet I’ll be dragging your ass back to my house so I can… take care of you.” You said with a whisper, your mouth almost touching his own before pulling away and heading for the door.

“That’s… absurd.” Vergil feeling embarrassed was not very common, but when you said things like that, it made him lock up. You made him feel things that he should only feel in private, not while you stood in front of him with the object of their main concern being his son. They needed to focus on the main task rather than think about intimacy… at least right now…

“Oh, you love it Verge. That’s why you keep coming back.”

With the click of the door, they were on their way back to his brother’s shop.

They were talking when you both saw the front of the shop come into view. Dante and Nero were outside, the youngest brother leaned against the door with a beer in hand, enthusiastic with whatever their discussion was about. Vergil saw the insolent fool flash he and you a smile, Nero not seeming to notice as he continued on. You had given an energetic wave in return, clearly happy to see the two of them or maybe more thrilled to have all of them together.

“-I just don’t know man… I want to, but- HEY! Asshole, I’m talking to you! What’s that dumb look for anyways,” he turned to see the object of Dante’s occupied attention and only caught the end of your quiet “hello.” He looked genuinely surprised and Vergil understood why. He hadn’t been gone for very long, so he probably thought that the errand he needed to run was to pick up his own partner?

“What are you guys doing here? I knew you were coming back,” he uttered at Vergil, Nero’s brows tight with discomfort, looking peeved at the thought of having to be in his presence again. It confused him just as much as it irritated him how his son came off as both wanting a family and wanting nothing to do with him. Vergil almost felt sorry for how he treated you back in the day, having been so vague about his feelings toward you. This was borderline painful.

“We’re just visiting! Have any jobs come up yet? Been itching to spread my wings, you know?”

Dante chuckled, knowing exactly what you meant, but from what you had aforementioned, Nero was unaware of your transformation. Watching his face switch from irritated to shocked was amusing at least. One more thing he and his brother could agree on. Nero grimaced as no one seemed to elaborate, though instead of asking what in the hell everyone was laughing for, he just let it go and waited for Dante to respond.

“Eh, the usual. If a call doesn’t come in a couple hours, we’re closing early and getting lunch. Wanna come along, sweetcake?”

Vergil didn’t like the nicknames, especially if they were directed towards you, but you had told him the name grew on you and to not take it the wrong way. His throat tightened at his brother calling you in such a way, but much like Nero, he let it go.

“Sure! We’d love to go!” Dante had given you a slightly exasperated look, as if he didn’t believe that the both of you were coming along. Vergil wasn’t a fan of going to crowded places and wasn’t the biggest fan of messy foods like pizza, but he had some “making up” to do and if it started the dinner at Dante’s favorite restaurant, then he would relent. His brother’s face echoed as much when he didn’t dispute your words.

“Right…,” Nero murmured, the dirt crunching under his shoes, “Now what?”

Now? Now, they get this bonding thing sorted out.

Vergil drew his sword, immediately setting everyone on edge. Dante summoned his own blade as Nero reached for the Red Queen, their stances ready for whatever he had up his sleeve. You simply remained unfazed, arms crossed over your chest as you observed.

“What are you doing, dumbass!? We did this already. Do I gotta toss you around again to make you understand?!”

Vergil lunged forward, teleporting and reappearing right in front of Nero, his large blade revving as the Yamato made sparks against it. They clashed and pushed off one another, Nero pivoted to swing the massive weapon for another hit to which Vergil deflected effortlessly, found an opening and shoved the hilt of his sheathed sword into Nero’s stomach, knocking him back into the brick of Dante’s shop.

“Whoa, brother, what’s the problem here!?” Dante made no move, but readied his blade, a silent but serious threat to jump in.

He paid him no mind, focusing on Nero shaking himself off as he returned to his feet.

“I told you I wouldn’t lose this time.”

The look his son gave him, he couldn’t describe. His chest rose and fall, something arousing that lust within him, the lust to prove himself. He remembered being that helpless and frail human, watching his son flail under the pressure of being “dead weight” after everything he had endured. This was another challenge, one he wouldn’t hesitate to take.

“Fine. Let’s see who comes out on top this time, though you can bet it’s gonna be me… Father.”

It made his heart flutter. It wasn’t much, just a simple affirmation that Vergil needed to hear, hearing that Nero at least considered him so. He almost wanted to thank him, to thank you for the heaviness that escaped his chest and shoulders, though somehow he felt he already had… and the both of you knew it.

Off they were, steel on steel, razor thin streaks painting the air around them, bright reflections of the sun as they swung. Neon blue glowed off his summoned blades as they flashed towards his opponent, effortlessly deflected. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned with pride, proud to see how far his son had come since their last fight. At the same time, he was euphoric, proud of how far he himself had come. He had managed to reconnect with his brother, realizing that he needed Dante in his life more than he ever knew. He had learned how much he truly needed the human side of him, that compassion and connections helped make him stronger rather than served as a weakness. He could feel the relationship with you patching back together, your loyalty and kindheartedness healing the broken parts of him he thought could never be fixed.

Even now as their swords met, he could feel that you were on to something. The awkward tension between them almost melted away much like the warmth of your mug being absorbed by his palms. He reveled in every playful and breathless chuckle as he managed to best him or the grunts when he realized he’d faltered a bit. Vergil let out a breath after skidding back, the force of Nero’s swing crushing. Nero was strong and with every push against the large blade, he marveled at his kin for improving as quick as he had.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye, cutting off his thoughts to notice you had walked around their battle to stand beside Dante, your smile bright as you spectated, made playful jabs at his brother. It felt… soft. Domestic. It was really everything he thought he could never have and here it was. It was a family.

“Watch your step, old man!”

Nero swung, but Vergil sidestepped it easily before digging his scabbard into the dirt behind Nero’s leg and gave him a swift kick, knocking him onto his back.

“You should be concerned with your own footwork rather than mine, son.”

Nero’s overcast eyes met Vergil’s, studying them almost, looking for something like all of this might have been some ploy or prank. Maybe it was that it felt odd for Nero to hear his recently found father refer to him as “son.”

“Alright, alright, we can settle this another time. Phone’s ringing inside and its probably another job. Now this is fun and all, but I’d rather not have to pay for repairs if you two get too into it. Capisce?”

Dante had put away his sword and stepped back inside to answer the phone they both had just realized was ringing. He and Nero just stared at each other, waiting to see what the other would do, but when Nero decided to put the Red Queen on his back, Vergil figured it was over for now.

“This doesn’t count cuz he stopped it. Next time we do this, I wont hold back.”

A next time? Vergil’s heart felt full, as if it would explode if he felt anymore emotion than what he felt at that moment. His son wanted to spend more time with him. Maybe he was more like Dante than he thought. If words were difficult, they could always speak with blades, a language all of them could understand crystal clear.

“And neither will I. You best be ready for it.”

Nero smiled with a bright cockiness that made Vergil feel giddy, happy to have any reaction other than irritation on his son’s face. He had finally made some progress, he thought as he watched him follow after Dante into the shop. Almost a minute after the door clicked shut, after staring at the closed door and contemplating his thoughts, he looked to you. He reveled in your warmth as you gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, confirming those thoughts… among others.

“So… he didn’t manage to wipe the floor with me, but I’m still open to the idea of you taking care of me.”

Your evil smile was the only answer he needed.

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