#i just toss some shit together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taintedcigs · 7 months

Text

˚ · • . ° . 𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐓.

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), kinda pervy!steve, msturbation, degrading, praises, kind of a choking kink if u squint, VERY LIGHT dom/sub dynamics (like very very light), dom!eddie, sub!reader.

pairings: boyfriend!eddie munson x reader x roommate!steve harrington

author’s note: i just love steddie. if you see me repost this a few times no u didn't. not proof-read. ignore mistakes!!

Steve wasn't a morning person.

So it was no surprise when he tossed in the bed, groaning and whining at the noise coming outside of his room.

His pillow was smushed against his ears, attempting to cancel out the noise.

“F—fuck, s—shit, angel, take it, mmpf.” He barely had one eye open, and couldn't make up most of the dialogue, so he tried to make sense of the noise coming from the living room.

He removed the pillow from his ear, face scrunched in annoyance as he listened in.

Grunts, whines, and the slapping of skin mixed together, with Steve’s hazed state, he could barely make sense of it. But once he heard your pretty whines his eyes shot open.

Holy fucking shit. The two of you weren’t doing what he thought you were… Were you?

He sat up quickly, hand rubbing his eyes before he carefully situated himself on the bed to look through the gap where his door had opened slightly.

“Fuuuuck, just like that, princess, take my cock, mhmm.” Another grunt from Eddie, his skin slapping into yours, head thrown back, his hold on your waist bruisingly rough. Or at least that’s what Steve imagined, hearing Eddie’s raspy voice mixed with your silenced grunts was enough to fuel his morning wood harder than imaginable.

He was aching already, his cock painfully caged in his boxers, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take a peek. He should just attempt to go to sleep again, he should give the two of you privacy.

But, fuck, was it tempting.

This is all he ever wanted, he knew how perverted that sounded, but this was his chance.

The walls in the apartment were thin, so fucking thin that he would hear your mewls every night, and Eddie’s dirty talk. He would never admit to how many times he got off to the sound of the two of you going at it. It was embarrassing, outright disgusting, and he felt ashamed.

A crimson red and disgust colored his cheeks the second he came all over his hand, sticky, always so much that it spurted all over his chest. But, god, did it feel so fucking good.

He didn’t know what it was that drew him in this much, Eddie’s dominance, your pathetic whines, him degrading you while you begged for more, it was all of it. And he was begging to get a glimpse of it, a little taste.

“Yeah, baby, you like that don’t you?” More sounds coming from the two of you, Eddie’s cocky tone enough to have Steve feel himself against his boxers.

He was hard, so achingly hard that he hissed, and his other hand immediately clamped down on his mouth to shut himself up, the skin slapping and the cursing didn’t falter a bit.

He could totally get away with this.

And he was about to burst in his pants, a little peek, wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jesus Christ, he knew it was wrong, but this was the perfect opportunity, he finally could see your fucked out face, Eddie’s cocky grins, he needed this. He deserved this.

Steve shifted quietly in his bed, concealing himself but still getting a good look at the two of you, his cock was needy, weeping, and he needed to give it attention soon. Just the look in your eyes, the way Eddie was all the way into you made him bite his lip to conceal the groans that slipped past his parted lips.

“Ssshh, baby, I know, I know, but you gotta quiet down a little, yea?” Eddie cooed against your face, biting and nibbling a trail from your chin to your neck, a grin sitting on his lips.

Fuck, Steve wished he could do that, have you sprawled on him on the couch, bare pussy on sight while he fucked himself into you, legs wrapped around him, while he left marks on your neck, truly owning you, like Eddie did.

Eddie squished your cheeks to quiet you down, his cock still hitting spots inside of your walls that you didn’t know existed, and you were quick to pout. “You don’t want our little roommate to wake up and see you like this, do you?”

Steve’s ears perked at that, bubblegum pink all over his cheeks, but it only encouraged him more and more, his cock engorged with blood and the need to fuck his hands was all he could think about.

The two of you were talking about him, and he was more than intrigued. Slowly but surely, Steve pushed his boxers down his thighs, hissing quietly when his heavy erection bobbed out, plopping against his v-line, tip hot and angry, waiting to be attended.

Eddie had you split in half, or at least that’s what it looked like to Steve, “Whinin’ like a bitch in heat, soakin’ my cock and still beggin’ for more.” Eddie grunted, Steve watched in awe, how hungrily you looked at Eddie, those doe-eyes looking so innocent yet you were anything but. Eddie was sliding in and out of your walls, harsh, quick, and making sure you could feel him fully.

Steve bit his lip to hide the groan that dared the slip past his mouth, cock hot and pulsating in his hands, he spat on it with a shuddered breath, wishing that instead of his hands he could push his veiny cock into every single one of your holes. Drawing out those pleas and whines from you like Eddie did.

Eddie’s cocky, domineering words also got him going, he didn’t know what was taking over him; he needed you under him, whining and begging for him, but he also wanted Eddie to dominate him as well, a fucked up dynamic that he would die to be a part of. You, submitting to both of them, while Eddie dominated both of you. And Steve in the middle, it would be perfect.

Eddie’s hands were bruisingly all over you, cock pounding into you with such force that Steve watched open-mouthed, wishing he could get a taste of you, wishing he could feel the way your tight cunt took him in.

“Oh, shit, you’d like that, baby wouldn’t you? Such a little slut, you’d want Harrington to see you all pathetic like this?” Eddie grinned, mocking you further and further, causing you to mewl at him pathetically.

Steve smeared his spit all over his cock, using it as a lubricant while he desperately wrapped his palm around it, ungodly sounds escaping his lips, not able to help himself when the two of you started talking about him.

His sickly desires coming to life in the best fucking way possible.

“You’d want Steve to see you bein’ my personal cocksleeve?” Heat rushed to your cheeks quickly, face feeling hot both from desire and how filthy Eddie was being, and he knew you loved it.

You shook your head shyly, gaze still on him with a pout. “Nuh—uh, don’t lie, baby, I know you like an audience.” Steve tugged at his cock feverishly, knuckles turning white with how much desire ran in his veins, his mouth hung open both from the pleasure and the words being uttered, would the two of you be into this as well?

God, he wanted nothing more than to have you underneath him as Eddie did, he wanted to get a taste of you, he wanted to feel your pussy squeezing him because he knew that’s what Eddie always blabbed about through those thin walls, how tight you were and how warm you felt.

Steve shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have jerked off to his roommate having sex with his girlfriend, but fucking Christ the two of you were so hot.

How was he supposed to help himself?

��Would you want him to take a turn with you?” Steve’s ears perked, and his desperate tugs at his cock almost halted, he sat up a bit straighter, hand still rubbing his aching cock but eyes searching for you, searching for that approval.

You nodded shyly, a grin appearing on Eddie’s face “Mhmm, I know you would, such a fuckin’ slut aren’t ya?” Steve’s guttural groans were concealed by the harsh skin-on-skin provided by the two of you, Eddie’s loud rambling, and his even louder grunts.

Steve perfectly red in the face, fucked his fist harder, trying so hard not to finish himself off this early, but the desire pooling in his tummy was nearing.

That shy little nod, Eddie’s wicked grin, fuck, he was going to keep this memory in his brain forever.

“Love you, pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, sloppy kisses peppered all over your perky tits, mouth latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling while his fingers drew small circles around your breasts, igniting more pleasure.

Overstimulating you in every way possible, and Steve watched with an open mouth.

Both of you could not resist the grunts that left their lips, your frail body becoming mushy at all of the sensations, looking pretty as ever.

“You look s’perfect like this, honey, did you know that? Mhmm, this cunt made just for me, huh?” Eddie cooed, and Steve’s strokes against his dick were more sensual now, it’s like he wanted to feel you too.

You sank into the couch further every time he thrust himself into you, praises making your eyes roll all the way back to your head.

“Takin’ it so well, sweetheart, look at all the sweet noises your pretty pussy makes when I’m fuckin’ you raw, huh? God I love it when you get all dumb like this on my cock, princess.” he praised.

“Being the prettiest, good girl f’me, thinkin’ about nothing but my cock, perfect little fucktoy,” He groaned, voice getting coarse with need. Those chocolate hues you loved about Eddie were long gone now, replaced by something more sinister, fueled purely by hunger, and it made your nails dig deeper into his back, making him hiss.

“Ed—Eds…” Steve wanted to worship you, all of his thoughts being stripped away because of how fucked out you looked. Candy gloss smeared all over your needy lips, hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and spread out for Eddie like the good girl you were.

“Yeah, honey? What d’ya need?” Tone saccharine sweet, his hand landed on your cheeks, smushing them together, making it harder for you to register anything, he was making you feel so hot, so much… And you couldn’t bear to talk.

“N—need to, uh—” Words died down your throat when he shoved himself deeper, hitting that sweet, sweet spot that made you go all dumb on him, just like he loved.

“You wanna cum, doll? Huh? Can’t handle it anymore? Thought you were my tough girl?” He mocked with an ‘Aww’ sound, jutting out his bottom lip, making you nod vigorously.

“I—I’m your good girl, sir,” you muttered. Steve was trying so hard not to tug at his poor cock harder, not to go completely feral because he so wanted to last. He wanted to hear the pretty whines that left your lips, the guttural groans that consumed Eddie.

His hands landed on your clit now, he could feel your pussy nuzzling him, could feel that familiar feeling pooling in your tummy, and he wanted to get you into that space, where you could barely talk, where you whined and trashed for him to let you cum. “B—but ‘s t—too much, need to—” You whined, struggling.

Eddie breathed out a throaty chuckle, drawing circles around your sensitive spots to earn those breathy huffs from you. “Can barely speak, such a good fuckin’ cockslut for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, all mean and filthy.

“And, all fuckin’ mine,” He grunted, he wasn’t forgiving, and neither was his cock, slipping out of you entirely to drive you crazy. Dark chuckles left his lips when he enjoyed your little whines, that deeper dig your nails had on his back with anger.

Steve’s lips wrapped around his knuckles, biting on them to conceal the lewd noises daring to slip out.

Eddie’s huge length, slightly bent to the left, facing upwards was slicked in both of your juices. Steve wanted nothing more than to have his tongue lapping up at him, taste both of you.

“Speak up, slut, what do you want, you wanna cum, huh?” Vicious, and bold, his hand had a hold on your throat now, harsh enough to draw both pain and pleasure out of you, making you cry out at the emptiness.

“S—so mean,” you murmured, you loved every fucking second of it. But his teasing was driving you crazy, and you so badly needed that sweet release, and to feel his warm load filling your hole.

He pouted at your words, releasing your throat as his palm stroked your cheeks, he knew you enjoyed his mean side, but he still couldn’t resist your pretty face and that addictingly gentle tone.

You always knew how to break him, and to get him to do what you wanted. Which was to get completely fucked.

With a sticky sweet and delicate kiss on your lips, he was quick to thrust back into you. “‘M s—sorry, sweetheart, ‘m sorry but you’re just so pretty like this, can’t help it,” he breathed against your neck, his movements getting sloppier when your moans became more pathetic and needy, he wasn’t going to last if you came.

And it was okay because Steve was dying for a release, both knuckles white, one from tugging, the other from biting into it to stifle his loudness.

“Don’t worry, honey, you can cum for me,” He cooed, lips pressed into the shell of your ear, kissing a trail down to your cheekbones.

“S—shit, fuckin’ shit, sweetheart cum for me and I’ll give you what you need,” He fucked himself deeper, slower into you.

Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blurry vision only able to focus on the two of you.

“You want my cum don’t you, baby? Want me to fill you up?” You were gone, back arched with pleasure, trying to get more from him if that was even possible.

“P—please, Eds, need you to mark me, make me yours, all over again,” you moaned, craving him, feeling that tight coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter.

“A—ahh, shit—shit, sweet girl, when you talk like that you know you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, his own voice failing him when he was all lost in you.

“Need your cum, Eds, p—please, cum with me baby,” you begged, body frail beneath him, soft, mushy, and all ready.

“Shit, f—fuck, so fuckin’ tight when you cum, sweetheart, I don’t think I can—” His rambling got louder and louder, not caring if Steve could hear—hell Eddie wanted him to see this. See the way you were getting split open by Eddie, begging, while Steve fucked himself to the two of you, all so desperate, waiting for Eddie’s instructions.

A newfound desire found Eddie at the thought of both you and Steve being so submissive to him, letting him take all of the control. “Fuckin’ fuck! Jesus—mmpf,” he grunted.

Steve was desperate now—as much as he was ashamed of it, he had jerked off to the two of you so many times before, he knew from the noises, that the two of you were close.

And he was more than ready to finally see your pretty face and Eddie’s mouth hung open when both of you came, his fantasies coming true.

He fucked his fists harder, balls drawing up at the needy moans that slipped past your lips. “G—gonna fuck all of my load—fuck—into you, princess.” One final thrust rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Fuuuck, fuck fuck!” He yelled out, and that’s all it took, both of your eyes squeezed shut, melting into the couch, loud moans and groans filling the room while Steve watched with lulled eyes.

Your orgasm was quick to wash over your body, pussy convulsing around his cock deliciously, ropes of his warm cum spilling inside of you. All the while Steve squeezed his cock, spurting his cum all over his hand, white beads of his warm load covering his knuckles.

Heavy breathing filled the living room, and Steve’s room. His mind hazed, and eyes remained shut.

“Shitshitshit, take it, baby, take it all,” Eddie breathed out, his load sitting pretty inside of you, filling you nicely.

“Good girl,” he whispered, planting a nice kiss on your glossy lips, peppering your face with small ones, a wide grin sitting on his lips.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted out unintentionally, hand planting on his mouth with a loud smack, but it was too late.

Eddie’s head snapped backward, a grin sitting on his lips before his dangerous gaze met Steve’s dilated pupils, blown out by pleasure, and the anxiety in his system slicking his forehead.

“Did you enjoy that, Steve?” Eddie mocked from where he was standing, not moving an inch, eyeing the shocked look on his face, fully enjoying it.

Steve, at a loss for words, couldn’t even blabber a simple response. How the fuck was he going to explain this?

Eddie barked a mocking chuckle, pouting. “Your poor cock must be aching from those calloused hands, abusin’ it every night. You think we didn’t hear your pathetic groans every night? The walls are thin, Stevie,” he cooed, his tone so teasing that Steve gulped.

What the fuck was going to happen now?

Would Eddie beat him up for being a fucking pervert?

Would the two of you move out as soon as possible?

Endless possibilities ran through Steve’s mind, yet he couldn’t muster a single reply, cursing himself for even fucking doing this.

Yet, much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s reply was his wildest dreams and fantasies bundled up into a full sentence. “Oh, don’t be shy now, Stevie, come out, let us help you.” You hummed quietly agreeing with Eddie, too fucked out to say anything else, yet still up for more.

Without another word Steve got up, unashamedly walking into the living room with his junk out, hand still covered in his cum, Eddie’s gaze and grin were much more devilish up close, making Steve’s cock stir against the cold air hitting his tip.

You were quick to sit up on your knees, dragging Steve closer to you, hand gently holding up his semen-covered knuckle, giggling at the sight before your gaze met his.

The blood rushed to his cock in an instant, your doe-eyes still held that innocence, yet there was something filthy about it that had Steve wanting to melt into a puddle. You stuck out your tongue at him, mouth quick to wrap around his knuckles, lapping up his juices.

Your gaze stuck on him, and Steve’s thighs shuddered with need, eyes drinking you in while you wiped him clean and released his hand with a pop sound of your velvety lips.

A lewd noise escaped from Steve’s mouth, making him grow weak in his knees, still unable to find the words to speak. You were perfect. Just perfect.

“Stevie tastes so good, Eds,” you hummed sweetly, gaze never leaving Steve’s, and Eddie watched the two of you with newfound hunger.

“Do you want us to help you, Stevie?” You asked with a pout, plushy lips slickening with your candy gloss, and now with both Steve and Eddie’s juices. Steve nodded vigorously, head about to fall off his neck, gulping and almost groaning at you.

Steve wasn’t a morning person, until now.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie x reader

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dramaticals · 7 months

Text

following instructions

pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader

summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.

author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader

✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧

Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.

Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.

"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.

"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.

Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.

"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."

There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.

"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.

"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.

In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.

Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.

"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"

"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."

"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. Curse him.

Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.

Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.

Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"

As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.

"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."

"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."

Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.

"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"

"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.

"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.

Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.

"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.

Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.

Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.

"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."

Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.

With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."

The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.

You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.

"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.

"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"

"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.

You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.

You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.

"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.

Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.

"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.

The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.

Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.

"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.

It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.

"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.

There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.

"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."

Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.

"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."

Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.

"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.

"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.

You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."

Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.

"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.

You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.

"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"

You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.

"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.

"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."

The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.

"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.

Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.

Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.

"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."

"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.

"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."

So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.

By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.

You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.

Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.

"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"

"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.

At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.

Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.

"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.

Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.

"Shit," Theo groans.

"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.

"God, shut up."

Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.

Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.

While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.

"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.

His impatience makes you smirk.

"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."

"You know I don't give a shit about rules."

"Too bad."

This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.

"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.

This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."

Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.

"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.

Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.

"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.

You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.

"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."

"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"

You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"

This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.

To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.

"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.

You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.

"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.

"Then you know what I want to hear."

He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.

"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."

"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.

"That's my good girl."

Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Oh, God, yes, Theo."

His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.

Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.

"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"

His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.

"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.

The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.

"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."

With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.

#if you squint this is theo x ravenclaw reader #theodore nott smut #theo nott smutt #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott #*writing

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cake-writes · 5 months

Text

Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night.

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were away? Why does he want to do anything for you?

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication.

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.

What the hell is he doing?

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way.

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.”

Your birth control must be overdue, then.

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.

He should have known then that he was getting too attached.

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way.

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.

He could get you pregnant.

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.

Kakashi swears. Loudly.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.

He’s already too attached. Way too fucking attached.

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone.

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock to make the entry a little easier.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

“Mm. Do you want me to?”

His question hangs heavy in the air.

The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.

You want to say no, he realises.

He wants you to say no.

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk.

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership.

His.

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do.

He agrees.

“Just this once.”

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there hasn't been a risk.

Your coy little smile is what prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth.

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go.

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat.

He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well.

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the soft skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl.

“More than okay,” you sigh.

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste.

Later.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?”

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows.

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you.

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate.

It’s selfish, he knows.

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take.

He wants it to take.

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.

“Close?”

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.

He stamps it down.

“I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?”

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I— shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”

“Really?”

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form.

“Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily.

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—”

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.” He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal, that he’s always refused to name.

He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something. He wants them to mean that you’re his.

He’s too attached.

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he snaps his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.

It doesn’t last long. He’s too worked up.

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—”

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.

“Come inside me,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up—

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off.

If he moves right now, he’s done for.

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.

You finish first. Always.

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss just beneath your ear, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy.

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple—

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time.

He laughs softly at that. No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you.

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—”

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.”

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight.

His jaw tenses at the reminder.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?”

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves.

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen.

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee.

Get her there, then pull out.

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch.

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon.

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—”

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now—

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall.

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it.

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—”

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth to assert his control, and still, he recites his mantra.

Get her there, then pull out.

Get her there, then—

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips.

Seeing your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced.

“Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—”

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want.

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own, and you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry.

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white, marking you as his.

It feels good. It feels right.

He’s too attached.

He doesn’t care.

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits.

Why the hell did he do that?

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.

“Did I— Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep and hit your cervix a little too hard. That’s what usually tends to happen.

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.”

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.”

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur.

They’re happy tears, you said.

You’re happy with him.

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.

You laugh and turn him back towards you, gently cupping the side of his face. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight.

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came.

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine?

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He swallows thickly. “I’m fine.”

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.”

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.

It’s cute. You’re cute.

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.

“What?”

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Why aren’t you more upset?”

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this because of my birth control?”

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!”

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then.

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot.

“That’s so bad! What if you actually got me pregnant?”

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?”

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”

How the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate.

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d run away as fast as he could.

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed.

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.”

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone, never mind the words you speak in it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back.

“Because,” he rasps.

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t face you. He’s too embarrassed.

“Because why?” you ask breathlessly. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?”

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads.

“Hm? Why not?”

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. Do you know why?”

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation.

He likes that you understand him as well as you do.

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached.

—

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get an appointment that soon. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. “And what if I don’t want to be careful?”

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself. “You tell me.”

—

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.”

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?”

He shifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye.

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing this is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.”

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission.

Looks like you’re on the same page, then.

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home.

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—”

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused.

You worry your lip between your teeth and nod.

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.”

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?”

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—”

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagine #kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi

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arminsumi · 8 months

Text

HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A married dilf Gojo wants you to have his babies! He might not be married for much longer though

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : smut/18+ content : infidelity, dilf!Gojo, cheating kink, reader cheating on bf, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dirty talk

Gojo Satoru has a ring on his finger.

You're reminded of all the shit his wife has said to you when you feel the cool metal of his ring against your skin... as he's pinning your wrists together above your head and stuffing his nasty, cheating cock into you from behind while his wife is god knows where and his kids are at a friend's sleepover.

His friends like you. His kids like you. His marriage is falling apart. Gojo wants to have another baby but his wife doesn't, and he happened to come across you — who has a filthy breeding kink, who he met at some soccer event long ago and now has snaked into his home to become a close family friend.

"Y'know my kids love it when you visit. Wanna be their mommy? Yeah? How about you gimme 'nother one... let me knock you up." and he's saying this before he's inside you, his words turn filthier when his fat cock is getting milked by your pussy.

His cockhead is stroking at your G-spot when he says, "Please... jus'... j-jus' take my fucking seed like a good girl, yeah? Let me get that cheatin' pussy pregnant."

He grunts and keeps pounding away at your cunt like he's a starved man, while you're babbling about how good it feels but at the same time he needs to hurry up, because your boyfriend is texting you asking where the hell you are.

So he grabs your phone and tosses it out of sight so you can't see your boy's notifications anymore. It pissed Gojo off, how dare he interrupt you and him? How dare you bother returning to him when you know no one fills your pussy quite like a man who's already fucked babies into another one. As if your boyfriend could compete.

Gojo's face turns sour, he glares at the place where you two connect; your sloppy, squelching little pussy. He's got that kitty creaming and freaking out on his cock.

"You know your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do... you n-need an older man to treat you right, don't you? F-fuck... ah, god baby you're squeezing my cock so perfectly... you're gonna milk out my cum. Fuck. Stay right there and let me fill you. You want daddies babies, don't you? Tell me... tell me you want it. Tell me you want my babies."

As if you could squirm when he's fucked you out on his bed for well over two hours now.

All he needs to tip over the edge is for you to say, "Yes daddy! Gimme your babies!"

And then he's groaning loudly, rolling his eyes back and feeling his whole body shudder as he dumps a fat, sticky load of baby batter deep inside your quivering hole. He stuffs himself as deep as he possibly can so that you feel every inch of that nasty, cheating cock. The skin at the base wrinkles up as his balls squish against your clit.

He's heaving and panting and gasping with you. You're thinking about how his cock is so much bigger than your boyfriend's, and he's thinking about how much tighter your pussy is than his wife's.

Gojo's gone silent, smirkingly admiring how good you look with that afterglow on your face. He's imagining how you'll look with that pregnancy glow one day.

You're gonna look so pretty when you're pregnant with my kids.

He slides his cock out, kisses your shoulder and massages your numb legs.

Gojo's phone goes off, and you ask who it is. He takes one look at the caller ID, and a look at his seed bubbling and spilling out your pussy hole, and says;

"Oh. It's just my future ex-wife."

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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buckyalpine · 8 months

Note

A one shot where Bucky doesn’t like the reader and makes her life at the compound a little rough? Like enemies (maybe to lover or friends?) and she is like the sunshine personality 🥺🥺🥺

I live for this shit This type of angst where he's mean and finds her annoying even though she's a sweetheart, ugh, yes. YES.

Bucky groaned, trying to ignore the shooting pain that seared in his abdomen, clutching an old t-shirt to stop the bleeding from the stab wound he'd received during his latest mission.

"You good there, terminator?" Sam cocked an eyebrow watching Bucky unconvincingly nod, grunting a half assed yes before squeezing his eyes shut and flopping back on the seat.

"You're gonna need stiches" Steve snorted, shaking his head at his stubborn friend.

"I'm fine" Bucky gritted out, preferring to bleed out on the jet instead of going to the med bay where he'd be surrounded by doctors and needles and if he was really unlucky, you.

"Seriously? That's the second shirt you've bled through, I don't think the serum's gonna cut it, punk" Steve sighed, knowing how Bucky felt about getting medical care but it wasn't like he had a choice. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky was shoved in the direction of the medical wing, pouting and grumpy as he limped with Steve supporting him. Bucky frowned when Steve pushed him to lay down on the examination table, grumbling and wincing under his breath.

"You stay here. I'm gonna finish writing up our reports, don't go sneaking off" Steve chuckled, giving his friend's shoulder a squeeze before leaving. The soldier stared up at the florescent lights, his eyes anxiously darting about the room, hoping and praying that at the very least he wouldn't have to deal with-

"Good afternoon Bucky!"

For fucks sake.

Bucky groaned at the chirpy voice that piped up from the door, his brows knotted together from frustration.

He hated it. You'd ask about his day as if he wasn't there go get sewn up. You'd talk to him like you'd known him for years, almost oblivious to the fact that he was a former brain washed assassin. Every time he saw you, you were so giggly and pretty and bouncy and cute and happy and it irked his soul because it was to the point it was unnecessary. I mean you were just so kind and sweet to everyone as if everyone deserved such amazingness from such a wonderful person, okay that's enough Bucky.

The world wasn't fucking sunshine and rainbows and he had no idea why you acted like it was.

"Steve said you needed a few stitches so-

"Where's Dr. Cho" Bucky cut you off, hoping anyone else would help him so he could get on with his day, willing to take the needle and thread himself instead of having you do it while talking his ear off.

"Oh, she's with another patient right now but it's fine, I promise I'll get you out of here soon, do you mind if I remove your vest-

"Yeah, I got it" Bucky huffed, wincing to get his gear off but you stopped him, urging him to stay down.

"No, it's okay, I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it, I'll cut it off, don't worry"

Bucky nodded, lying back down while you grabbed a tray with medical supplied, carefully cutting around the blood soaked material and discarding it. You cleaned the area, mumbling apologies incase the alcohol caused any pain, moving on to closing the cut.

"I heard about the mission you all went on. I can't even imagine going through all that, it sounded terrifying. You're very brave Sargent" You smiled, tossing your gloves aside after patching Bucky up. Bucky grunted as he hopped off the table without a word, ready to whack Steve on the head for telling you of all people he needed help.

"If you need anything else, let me know! Just get some rest for a few days, it'll heal soon-

"I know" Bucky walked out of the room without looking back, his shoulders relaxing when he was far away from he med wing. There was truly no reason for him to be this annoyed but he was tired, in pain and he knew for a fact there would be a pile of papers for him to fill out in the conference room.

You didn't take Bucky's grumpy attitude to heart, understanding the stress that came with going on missions, getting injured every time coupled with the fact that he was probably still healing from his own past. You put away the supplies before taking a coffee break, running into a very excited Tony along the way.

"Hey cupcake, just who I was looking for, do you like chocolate or vanilla"

"Tony, I told you, you don't have to-

"That doesn't answer the question. Pick one or the other or both or another flavor, all the flavours, but give me something"

You giggled at the way he looked at you expectantly, sighing seeing as he wouldn't let up until you answered.

"I'm not picky, you know I'd love anything. Get something everyone would like, seriously, I don't even need all this, I'm just the nurse-

"Stop that right now, there's no one else like you" Tony huffed, planting a quick kiss your head before texting his caterers about everything he wanted, ensuring everything was perfect, especially when it came to you.

You woke up to the sun streaming through the curtains, stretching before getting out of bed and padding over to the bathroom to go through your morning routine. You had the day off, throwing on your joggers instead of your typical scrubs and making your way down to the kitchen, grabbing ingredients for baking.

You hummed, scooping out spoons of cookie batter, plopping it onto the tray and throwing it into the oven, cleaning up the area in between, waiting for the oven timer to go off. You set the chocolate chip cookies onto a tray, piping the last bit of icing onto the top and sweeping away the smidges of frosting that got onto the counter.

Bucky blinked at the smell of baking, making his way to the kitchen for some water after a run. He groaned, nearly walking right back out when he saw you singing to yourself, arranging cookies in a circle, each one decorated for a different person in the tower.

"Good morning Bucky" You smiled while he mumbled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, "I-I made made cookies for everyone, did you want one?" You asked hopefully, looking at the little dog tags you'd piped on the cookie you made for him while he shrugged in response.

"Why do you keep trying so hard, do you not have any friends?" Bucky scoffed, ignoring the fresh plate of cookies that sat on the counter, not caring that your face had fallen. He wanted to strike a nerve, feeling a sick satisfaction at the way you silenced yourself, giving him the peace and quiet he wanted.

"S-sorry, I just thought-

"You thought what?" Buck cocked an eyebrow, the tick in his jaw making your stomach churn.

"Nothing, sorry" You mumbled, turning back to continue cleaning while he chugged the rest of the bottle. "I've just leave them here if you want one later on-

"No, I don't want one now and I don't think I'll want one later either" Bucky glared at you, tired of you always trying to do things for others as if anyone asked.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't-" you bit your lip hard to keep from crying, not wanting to annoy Bucky more.

"Why do you always act like everything great? Like we don't come back from almost dying, risking our lives while you go about like the world is perfect"

"I just-I didn't mean-

"You didn't mean what, to be annoying? Did anyone even ask for this?" Bucky nodded to the cookies while you shook your head, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed, not realizing others also probably found you annoying.

"I-it was my birthday, I thought-" you sniffled, choking back a whimper, "I wanted to do something nice - never mind" You bit your lip to keep from breaking down, blinking back tears as you scurried off to your room, without looking back.

The initial satisfaction Bucky was short lived as he stood in the now empty kitchen, tossing the bottle aside. The plate caught his eye once more as he walked by, reluctantly stopping to look at each one, your skilled hands decorating each one with clean details. He instantly spotting the one you made for him which had been dusted with silver just like his tags; he had no idea how you managed to get his name and number piped to precisely.

Not that it mattered.

Bucky continued to make his way to the gym, feeling a little bad that he made you cry but he figured you'd get over soon enough, after all that seemed to be your strong suit, you were always happy and smiling anyway.

"You're coming tonight, right?" Steve dropped the weights he was curling while Bucky frowned, unsure of what the captain was referring to.

"Why, what's tonight" Bucky grunted, still in the middle of his set.

"Seriously, Tony told us like a month ago"

"Yeah, fine" Bucky huffed, not really caring what it was about, knowing he'd be dragged to go regardless. He finished the rest of his workout, retreating back to his room to shower. He flopped onto his bed after, grabbing a book from his bedside table seeing as there was still plenty of time till he had to get ready.

The book had been a Christmas present from you and as much as he hated to admit it, it was perfect and one of his favorites. He tried to focus on the words, feeling bad again thinking about how your face had fallen earlier when all you did was offer him a cookie.

Maybe he went a little overboard with his reaction...

Bucky shook the guilt he felt, hoping that you'd be running around somewhere getting ready for whatever tonight was.

"Where's y/n" Sam looked around the room seeing everyone else present but you, the night in full swing seeing as Tony had gone all out as usual "I swear she said she'd be here, this is literally her birthday party"

"I didn't see her" Nat frowned, putting down the drink she was sipping on, scanning the room again, "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen her all day"

Bucky felt a deep pang in his chest when he realized the party was for you, his stomach twisting in knots.

"Where's our birthday girl" Steve asked as he joined the others, the guilt making Bucky feel even more sick. He ran a hand over his face while the others continued to wonder where you were. "I hope she isn't working, she deserves a day off, she already worked over time for 3 months straight when we were running back to back missions"

Bucky remembered that.

They'd all been sent out on missions spread across different months and you'd been the one on call to patch them up the entire time. You hadn't complained once even through you were thoroughly sleep deprived. At the time Bucky was annoyed you were in such an upbeat mood when they were all scraping by but you had been struggling yourself.

"I fucked up" Bucky groaned, feeling awful for how he'd treated you in the morning and for how he'd been acting towards you in general.

"Why, what did you do" Steve's face twisted in confusion while Bucky's face reddened in embarrassment. Steve was aware Bucky complained about you but he figured it was because his bestfriend got flustered around the pretty nurse, he'd seen Bucky get tongue tied plenty of times whenever you walked by.

"You were a grumpy asshole to y/n, weren't you" Sam frowned seeing Bucky's guilty face. The soldier didn't say another word, leaving the group to find you instead, debating on getting Steve to clock him in the jaw first. Bucky ran to the elevator, pushing the button to your floor, hoping he'd see you making your way down, only to find the hallway empty. His heart broke hearing the soft sniffles coming from your room, the door closed. He gently knocked on the door, your cries quieting down as if you'd silenced yourself to pretend you were asleep instead of opening the door.

"Y/n?" Bucky called for you only to be met with more silence, "Can-can you please open the door?" His heart started to beat faster when he head your footsteps approaching the door, clicking the lock open; you were still in your joggers from earlier, your face puffy from crying.

All because of him.

"Sorry, I fell asleep" you lied, keeping your face trained on your feet, worried Bucky had come to yell at you about the party Tony had thrown for you, "and I'm sorry about the party, you didn't have to go if you didn't want to, I promise I didn't tell Tony you had to come, I know you don' like me-

"No, no baby no, stop" Bucky hushed you, his heart breaking when your voice cracked, rambling out apologies. His body moved on its own, wrapping his arms around you while you started to cry again, rocking you while holding you to his chest. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you have nothing to apologize for doll, nothing at all"

Bucky held you tightly while your body shook, feeling sick with himself for how he'd been treating you. You'd never been anything short of sweet and he'd made a point of always letting you know he couldn't care less. He lifted you in his arms, walking over to your bed, sitting down with you in his lap, ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

"I didn't mean to be so annoying" You shrugged, fidgeting with your fingers, the light that always made your eyes twinkle dimmed from Bucky's words.

"Y/n, please, no" Bucky whispered, pleading with you to stop. "Don't doll. It was never ever you, please let me apologize. I've been awful to you, you've done nothing wrong. You've always been an angel, sweets, it's me whose been an annoying asshole. I don't deserve your kindness but that's never stopped you from giving it to me when I least deserved it"

"You deserve kindness Bucky" you gave him a small smile, one that didn't meet your eyes and Bucky felt his eyes sting. Even when he was the one in the wrong, you were still comforting him with your sweetness.

"Y/n, I don't know anyone that deserves the sort of kindness you give. I don't know anyone that would deserve someone as wonderful as you. You're a light for everyone when its dark. I was a fuckin' idiot for everything I've ever said to you. That isn't an excuse for how I've been treating you doll, I know that. It's just- I've been awful to you and you've never done anything wrong. I'm truly sorry sweets"

"Its okay Bucky" You whispered, reaching up to wipe the tear that streaked down his face, your cheeks heating up when you realized you were still in his lap, "S-sorry, I didn't realize-

Bucky shook his head, holding you securely in his lap, not wanting to let you go.

"You have nothing to apologize for, pretty girl" Bucky shrugged, loosening his hold in case you wanted to get off but your doe eyes darted around instead, settling further in his lap. "You really are like sunshine"

"You're very charming, Sargent" you smiled bashfully while Bucky chuckled, his heart beating erratically in his chest when your hands came up to toy with the tags that hung around his neck.

"Would it-would it be if I kissed you?" He whispered shyly, blushing when you nodded, pressing his soft lips to yours. Bucky took his time kissing you, pouring every ounce of his feelings with soft touches, holding onto you like porcelain.

"Everyone's waiting for you sweets" Bucky gave you a gentle squeeze, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, hoping that you'd still want to go to your own party. "Would you like to go downstairs?"

You slinked off Bucky's lap to get ready, the soldier watching you with heart eyes the entire time you did your hair and makeup. He knew he had a lot to make up for, starting with the fact that he'd never hurt you again. He was still upset with himself for ever hurting you in the first place but he was ready to protect your innocent heart for the rest of his life. His breath hitched in his throat when you finished applying the last of your gloss, blushing when you slipped your hand into his so he could lead you down.

"Theres our cupcake!" Tony grinned when he saw you approaching, the rest of the team cheering making you giggle. Steve smirked seeing Bucky follow closely behind you in protective mode, keeping his hand around your waist. He spent the entire time, doting on you, following you like a lost puppy.

By the end of the night, he had you in his lap again, shamelessly looking at you with heart eyes while the rest of the team watched curiously, his sole focus on you.

"Happy birthday sweet girl" Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek while you nuzzled into him with a shy smile, "My little sunshine"

Now imagine Bucky doesn't quickly get over the fact that he was a dick. Sure you forgave him because you're an absolute sweetheart but Bucky can't even deal with the way he'd acted, especially when he had a crush on you the entire time and just refused to acknowledge it, acting like a cunt instead.

He's the most lovestuck boyfriend to ever exist. Your office is always full of fresh flowers. He's a clingy little puppy, outside of the medwing until your done, always finding excuses to sneak in and see you. You had to tell him a papercut wasn't a good enough reason for him to request your services.

Neither was a stubbed toe.

The time he nicked himself while shaving was the worst because he was pouty until you kissed him better.

He slips his dog tags around you, his possessive/jealous side occasionally sneaking out.

He doesn't even hide the fact that he's a simp for you, knowing he's the luckiest person on the planet to get the sweetest person in the world. He shows your off like no tomorrow, proud of the angel he gets to call his.

He absolutely loved his sunshine.

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m0thmonster · 1 year

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i used to look at and want a tumblr so bad when i was a kid and then i realized years later the reason i never was active once i made one was because this site is for people who have someone to be and i dont know who i am

#like you have people who do things and ur like #yeah thats that one. that does the thing #but i dont do things #and i realized putting me in a room and go “and do stuff in there!” is like a death sentence #i miss the community in deviantart and the togetherness of a bunch of people #like yeah deviantart was shit dont get me wrong i may get sexy women following me but its nowhere near the level of guy asking me at 14 if #i knew what a cuck was and then proceeding to get me to draw pregnancy furry kink art #idk u couldve posted anything on da and get people being interested (even if not super invested deep) and you go :3 #but now its just. algorithim this and tags that and you HAVE to curate and you HAVE to avoid these 10 buzzwords or you get put into #the dubious shadowrealm #idk i jsut. didnt have to try and be someone i could just exist and that would be enough #like i have been on da since 2013 and seeing it go so far down to the point its unusable ?? is still painful for me #i miss jsut. talkign to people because they gave me a llama and we exchange niceties and then my week is brighter #like there was a FLOW on deviantart. now its just post. wait an hour. theres its peak. its gone now #maybe it was also how fast my side of deviantart crashed- i went from almost 8k (only abt 1k of them being active) followers #steady commissions. to being scared and tossed onto twitter where you cant even SAY THE WORD COMMISSION.#maybe im just a sad inactive jaded adult now trying to live.#instead of being a happy chronically online kid who could draw emo dogs all day and socialize and have friends #i left 2 posts up on deviantart #like .. my bases. because i want to revive them at some point elsewhere #and they STILL get attention despite me not being active #having only two posts up #and said posts are 5 years old. i dont get tweets i posted a WEEK ago getting anything #i wasnt even an iconic base maker. that was the first one. and that was well after deviantarts base/adoptable peak.#m0thrambles #idk i think im just. being babyrage over it but its so hard not to be #so many young artists jobs and livelihoods were taken away and there is no alternative to deviantart.#there is no non-live feed based places that dont support ai (or like children)#there is no fun things like llamas.#now being relatable and “with the userbase” is just capitalism.

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ms-demeanor · 1 year

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Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

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medicinemane · 6 months

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I still wonder about the people who double down on communism... and not even like me when I was younger where I got (not the full extent, but got) that the soviet union and such were awful, but just thought that maybe with less terrible people at the helm it could work (later realizing that these kind of things always have power hungry people rise to the top) Anyway, no I just don't get the "well see, you've admitted your great grandpa owned a chicken, sounds like he deserved to die" people... like the fuck is there even to gain here about being smug while dying on a particularly stupid hill?

#I'm not even gonna try and define what I am with this stuff #cause see; everyone's decided that these terms have super solid cut and dry definitions #when it's like man... people obviously use the same terms to describe wildly different things #you're just being pig headed if you don't accept that and work off what they're saying rather than latching onto a single word #but pig headed they be; so no tossing out single words to latch on to #So what I think is that some level of welfare is both good and also required #and that currency is one of the more effective ways to distribute resources and labor without a whole lot of headache #I want social programs; and if your no details given ask me if I want more or less I'm gonna lean towards more #because apart from the humanitarian point of view; from and economic point of view I think poor people spend money cause they need to #so I think giving benefits; giving health insurance; giving a universal basic income #all end up being good ways to slush money through the system; because things like hospitals benefit from steady use #you want people to have access to them; because that's how they continue to operate #and I think that theft or not taxes are a fact; and I'd rather they go to shit like that #(and I still say senators and the house should only have the healthcare and pay they'd normally qualify for)#(see how long medicaid for all takes to pass if they don't get special insurance; ya dig?)#so that's my point of view; businesses are good; regulation is good; welfare is good; government accountability and transparency are good #I have some terms I could mash together to kinda describe it; but I won't cause that's a fool's errand #so you assign whatever term you want for that in your head; I ain't naming it #but tankies are dumb as shit; I'll say that much; just kinda cruel for the sake of getting a chance to be the one being cruel

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punkshort · 2 months

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i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

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