#if you know me even the slightest you should know by now that i rarely think about anything other than fantasy au and lotr au

[maxtermind]

baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn���t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[punkshort]

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?

[leviraaaaaa]

"Hey."

A husky voice spoke right beside your ear, startling you. You felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, warmth pressing against your neck.

"Huh–" You turned your head around, caught off guard. But your shoulders relaxed the moment you realized it was him. "Oh hi, it's you."

Levi rested his head on your shoulder, spreading his legs so they went around where you were sitting, practically slumping on you

"Mhm, were you hoping it was someone else?" Levi mumbled sleepily, snuggling deeper, pressing a soft kiss into the skin before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Never." You smiled.

You were sitting on the bed of the spare bedroom, papers and books spread across you. You work best in bed. But Levi was so tired tonight, he had went to bed early, and you hadn't the heart to disrupt his sleep. Which is why you had to seek refuge in the guest bedroom instead.

"You made a mess." He huffed, noticing the absolute chaos of papers and books you have made in the bed.

"We don't have much guests either way. This room is practically going to waste. But fine," You reassure him. "I'll clean up later, I swear."

"You always say that. Weeks will pass, the mess will stay the same." He mutters.

"Alright, you neat-freak, did you wake up just to take a nick at how unorganized I am?" You raise a brow, shooting a glance sideways, pretending to be annoyed. You failed to bite back the smile tugging on your lips though."You should be asleep."

"Shouldn't you too?" He pouted. "I can't sleep if you're not there."

"I know," You raised your hand, ruffling his hair. It was already messy, indicating he'd been tossing and turning in the bed for a while now. "I just really need to finish this article, alright? Go to bed, I'll be there."

"Is your work more important than me?" His head turned sideways, the silver of his eyes glinting through sleep-heavy lids. He almost looked like a pouty kid, needy for attention. You turned your head to press your forehead against his, pressing against the warmth of his body. He was always so warm.

"Levi, I promise. Just 5 minutes."

"I gave you 2 hours." He frowned.

"5 more minutes. Finishing touches."

"In the morning. Come to bed."

"Just 5 minutes!" You laughed when he shook his head, his hair tingling your neck.

"5 seconds."

"Levi."

"5." He began counting.

You rolled your eyes, amused. "No way, you're doing that."

"4."

"I'm serious."

"3."

"Two minutes?"

"2."

You squirmed against his hold, struggling to loosen his grip. You tugged forward, but you couldn't even budge.

Curse Levi and his Ackerman strength.

"1."

"Okay, I'm serious, let me g–"

You didn't even get a second before you were hoisted up in the air, thrown over his shoulder. A surprised squeal escaped you but the next thing you know you were in your bedroom. He dropped you on it, bed creaking underneath the sudden weight. Then he slid in, pulling the covers and tucking the both of you under it, an arm wrapping around you so you were pressed firmly against his chest and very unable to move.

"You work too hard for your own good." He mumbled, voice already raspy from the exhaustion clouding over him.

"Says the workaholic and the insomniac." You protest.

"You talk a lot, don't you?" He sighed softly. "Go to sleep. If you don't get enough rest you get cranky in the morning."

"I suffer from cranky Levi everyday. You should get a taste." You grinned.

"I'm not cranky."

"No. You're like a moody teenager on her period."

"Shut up." He tugged your ear, a playful gesture to show that he was annoyed. But the slightest quirk of his mouth didn't escape your eyes, as small as it was. "Need my sleep, love. Can't have that if you're not here."

"Yeah?" You exhaled, sleep caressing your eyes as well. But the nickname still made you grin. Hearing words of endearment from Levi was such a rare thing, you felt giddy whenever he addressed you like that. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just he's gets too flustered and embarrassed whenever the words slip out, which just makes the moments all the more special.

Like now, how he screwed up his face the instant he realized.

"No." He said in a warning tone.

Too late. You grinned. "Call me darling."

"No."

"Sweetheart?"

"No."

"Honeypie?"

"Absolutely not."

"Sweat pea?"

"What the fuck." He groaned. "I swear you get worse every day."

"I'm serious. Why not?"

"Because they're ridiculous."

"Okay. How about Fuzzball?"

"What the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

"Pumpkin?"

"Why, just why?"

You reached up, bringing your mouth closer to his ears. "Mommy?" You whispered.

He jolted. "I will smack you with this pillow." He says flatly, keeping his face expressionless. "Go to sleep before I knock you out myself."

You nodded, pressing the back of your hand to stifle your laugher, your shoulders shaking. But you decided that was quite enough for Levi. At least for one night.

"Roger." You sighed, throwing an arm over him. "Goodnight, babe."

"Brat." He grumbled, turning his head and hiding his face in the pillow.

Not before you caught the flush on his face though.

@sad-darksoul

[sunonyoreface]

One Cot - Simon “Ghost” Riley

Hi there, this story is a one shot about Simon Riley. I haven’t played COD before and I don’t know much about his character, but I love the thought of tough men being soft.

Summary: You help Ghost on a cold night and he returns the favour.

Word count: 2398

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: none, fluff.

Crews like task force 141 aren’t the type to pack extra cots. They don’t need them. Because crews like 141 don’t make a habit of bringing home extra bodies. There’s only ever one scenario when they have extra cots. Luckily for them, tonight’s not one of those nights.

For me, however, that means another night on the floor with my ankle cuffed to the bottom of one of their cots in case I try to run.

 Although I’m deemed non-violent, I’m also a flight risk. According to them at least.

 According to me, I have no clue where we are or how I’d even survive away from them. I’ve got no money, no ID, no map or compass, or even the slightest clue how I’d escape. Regardless, the cuffs stay on.

 My wrists face the same fate. But my hands are free enough to rake them through my damp hair, working them through the tangles. It’s a soothing feeling of normalcy in this strange place.

 In his cot on the other side of the room, Soap waits for one of the other boys to return from the showers and trade off babysitting duty.

 One thing I can say is that chivalry is not dead, because they allowed me to shower first. Not that it matters all that much. There’s no hot water anyway so there isn’t much of a benefit in going first. But it’s the thought that counts.

 Ghost is the first one back. It’s strange not seeing him wear layers upon layers of tactical gear. Instead, he only wears dark jeans and a black henley. And the balaclava too. I’ve yet to see him take it off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showered with it on. I don’t know that the other guys have seen him take it off either. They make comments sometimes, little jabs and jokes about how it never comes off. Ghost hardly notices though. Or maybe I should say hardly reacts. He’s stoic through it all, preventing any emotions from breaking through.

 Soap leaves without a word. They understand their positions. So well, that half the time I think they’re communicating through their thoughts.

 Ghost places a duffel bag on the cot I’m cuffed to. I sit cross-legged on a blanket on the floor as he ruffles through it.

 His strong form towers over me two feet away. Ghost doesn’t make eye contact as I watch him search through the bag. He’s less threatening without the bulky gear and a gun in his hand. But that mask is still terrifying enough to find its way into your dreams.

 However, it's not the mask that sets me on edge around Ghost, it’s his eyes. They’re cold and unwavering, giving away nothing. They’re the eyes of a killer. Of someone who enjoys inflicting pain. Of someone whose been in so much pain himself, his only release is passing it on to others.

 He hasn’t bothered me that much since my first day with them all. Back when he was ready to put me down like a lame horse. I was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Still am, if I’m being honest. Price stopped him, but if it was up to Ghost, I’d have been dead for days now. Even now, I’m sure part of him wants to kill me knowing it’s the more logical option. But until then, he’s under orders to keep me alive.

 “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a staring problem?” His rough voice breaks the silence. He rarely acknowledges me so for him to speak up must mean I’ve struck a nerve. My mouth suddenly feels dry.

 “Just you,” I say. “Sorry.”

 But I don’t look away. I continue to watch him search through the bag. I don’t know what he’s looking for but he can’t seem to find it. The tight sleeves of the Henley hug his strong arms. Even through the fabric, I can see the defined lines of his muscles. His posture is nearly perfect and his movements could almost be considered robotic.

 “What’re you looking for?” He doesn’t seem like the type of person to misplace his things.

 “Nothing,” he responds bluntly.

 “Maybe it fell behind the cot. I can check for you?” I offer.

 “Negative.”

 “Are you sure beca-“

 “Stop talking, y/n,” he snaps. I flinch at his response. As he says this he finally makes eye contact with me and I regret ever looking at him. There’s an anger in his eyes that no man I’ve ever met has been able to match. A deep-rooted hatred for the world and all of its inhabitants. It’s not a look that you’re born with. It’s one that’s carved from years of pain and betrayal. He’s witnessed the type of things that would break most people. The intensity of his gaze is too much. I break eye contact to stare at the floor.

 Fine. I won’t try to help.

 I lean against the cement wall and try to think about anything else. I press my hands to the inside of my thighs in an attempt to warm them up.

 When they found me I was only in ripped shorts and a ratty tank top with nothing else to my name.

 Since then some of the men spared me a set of long johns, a long sleeve shirt, and a pair of thick socks. I’m not allowed shoes in case I try and take off. It’s better than what I had but the warehouse is cold and the cement floor seems to suck out any heat my body produces.

 Ghost angrily zips up the duffel bag and tosses it on the floor at the other end of the cot. I watch the bag skid for a foot before finally coming to a stop.

 He climbs onto the cot with a dissatisfied grunt. Ghost sleeps with his head on the far side of the cot and his feet at the end I’m cuffed to. He doesn’t take his shoes off. None of them do. In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t sleeping with more gear on. Some days they’ll all sleep in their tactical gear as if they’re waiting to be attacked. Part of me is relieved they don’t feel as though that’s a threat tonight.

 I can hear voices echo down the halls. Some of the others must be done in the showers.

 I lie down on my makeshift bed: a pillow and a blanket that I fold in half to act as a mattress and duvet.

 When I lie down, however, something shiny catches my eye under Ghost’s cot.

 It’s a tiny chain. A necklace.

 On my hands and knees, I crawl under his cot to grab the necklace.

 “What’re you doing?” Ghost mumbles above me. I hear him shift his weight against the rough canvas fabric.

 When I back out from under the cot, he’s sitting with his legs off the edge. Suspiciously eyeing my movements. His right hand is in one of his pant pockets probably wrapped around a knife in case I try something.

 I kneel in front of the bed beside his legs. My damp hair clings to my neck and the tip of my nose is red and cold.

 I raise the chain up to Ghost. His eyes latch on immediately.

 “Is this it?” I ask. He eyes me suspiciously. I see him searching for any signs of deceit. Maybe I lied to him and hid the chain from him. Maybe I pickpocketed him before he went to shower. But I didn’t do any of those things. I hold his eye contact this time. His brows soften ever so slightly. It seems to be enough.

 Ghost doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply grabs the chain from my hand. His fingers brush against my palm as he scoops it up. He examines it a moment before slipping it over his neck and tucking it under his shirt.

 I don’t know why but I was hoping for a thank you. Or at least an acknowledgment that I’d helped. But Ghost remains silent. At the same time, the voices reach the room. Roach and Gaz round the corner from the hallway.

 At their entrance, I turn back to my makeshift bed and pretend to sleep. It’s not that I don’t like them - although I don’t, in fact, I don’t like any of them - but I don’t have the energy for more questions from them tonight.

 I hear Ghost shift in his cot and it seems our thoughts are on the same track.

 As hard as I try, sleep doesn’t come. They shut off the main lights over an hour ago, yet I still haven’t calmed down enough to drift off. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop shivering from the cold.

 The warehouse remains utterly silent except for the light snores and breathing of the men. Only the emergency lights fill the corners of the room with dim, orange light. They’re almost comforting in a way.

 I pull the single blanket tighter around my shoulders and ball up even smaller if that’s possible, but nothing helps. My bones shake and my teeth rattle. If only I had another blanket.

 The cot next to me creaks as Ghost shifts in his sleep. It creaks some more and then I notice he’s sitting up.

 Ghost spares a glance in my direction as he rummages through his pocket for something.

 Something silver glints in the light and I realize it’s a key. He wordlessly tosses it in my direction and by some stroke of luck, I catch it mid-air.

 It’s the key to the cuffs. I spare an uneasy glance in his direction. He wants me to uncuff myself?

 Ghost doesn’t react. Instead, he watches as I process my thoughts, as I push through my weariness and unlock my ankles first before freeing my wrists.

 I reach to pass the key back to him but instead of grabbing the key, his large hand wraps completely around my wrist and tugs me in close.

 I’m face to face with him as his other hand wraps around my jaw so I can’t pull away.

 “If you try to run, I’ll kill you,” his low voice is barely above a whisper. The edge to his tone makes the threat feel all the more real.

 “Okay,” I nod in response. My heart is racing and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

 “Come here. Bring your blanket,” he motions to the cot. I spare a glance at the narrow bed. Surely he doesn’t want to share it with me? There’s barely enough room for one person let alone two.

 “I don’t know,” I whisper back as though it’s an option. I don’t know where he’s going with this suggestion and I don’t think I trust him.

 “That’s an order, y/n,” his response does nothing to ease my soul, but I grab my blanket anyway and crawl onto the cot.

 It’s now he notices my hesitancy. How I purposely leave space between us on the bed. That I’m unsure of why he wants me up here. The fogginess of his intentions.

 “I can't sleep with the sound of your teeth rattling in my ears all night,” nothing changes in my expression so he tries again, his tone softer this time. “You’re safe, y/n. I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 I sigh in relief but don’t say anything in response. He knows.

 “C’mere,” he lifts the blanket for me to slide in. The warmth immediately welcomes me into the space.

 The cot is more narrow than a twin mattress and leaves little to no wiggle room for two people. I’m pressed tightly into Ghost's chest as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer and preventing me from falling off.

 I thought I’d be tense but the heat under the blankets completely relaxes me. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. His balaclava is soft against my cheek. I hear his breathing pick start to pick up. I can feel his chest expand deeper than before.

 “Thank you,” my voice is barely audible, but I know he heard.

 As I adjust to our proximity, I breathe in the scents that linger on his skin and in his clothes. I can smell the same standard citrusy shampoo on him as myself and the rest of the crew use. But there’s also a remainder of smoke and gunpowder from the day’s work. There’s something else more unique to him and yet I can’t put my finger on it. I take a deep breath and allow myself to revel in the calming smells. This shouldn’t be comforting and yet it is.

 Nothing about this situation should be comforting and yet I feel safer than I have in weeks.

 Wrapped in Ghost's arms, I know nothing else in the world can get to me. My only danger is the man who holds me. Yet I know in this instance after he’s sacrificed his space and his bed for me, that I’ve got nothing to worry about.

 Ghost shifts against the canvas again. This time pulling me on top of him as he spreads out across his cot. He wraps his arms around my back he readjusts for the final time. I feel so small on top of him. Ghost spreads a hand out across my lower back and it feels as though it takes up the entire width of the space. His thumb soothingly brushes back and forth along the arch of my spine.

 I lay my head on his chest and listen to the thrum of his heart. It beats strong and steady like a bass drum. I feel myself relaxing even more as my breathing starts to match his. I feel myself start to drift as my head lulls with his chest when it rises and falls.

 For the first time in a long time, I don’t worry about what tomorrow brings. I’m so content in his arms that I don’t think about what’s next. All that fills my mind is the strength of his heartbeat and the distant scent of gunpowder. The last thing I think about before finally nodding off is the feeling of his thumb brushing up and down along my back, letting me know everything is going to be alright.

Edit+A/N: I have never received this much attention on a story before so thank you!! When I have time should I write more for Ghost?

Fic based on this concept:

[happy-beeeps]

Sweat it out

Summary: tav comes down with a nasty flu, and one of her travel companions begins to worry... and maybe realize his feelings

WC: 1.3k

warnings: none i think! idiots in love

f!tav x reader

It’s quiet outside Astarion’s tent as he paces back and forth. Halsin has been inside with you for far too long, and the lack of communication has him worried. How long has it been since he hasn’t ended the night with your words, your breath near his? Weeks, months?

He doesn’t like to think of it. In fact, he’s doing an excellent attempt at thinking about anything else as he paces, and fails to notice the clatter of their camp members walking over to him.

“Chin up soldier, the rest of us seem okay, it probably has nothing to do with her tadpole.”

“Karlach is right,” Gale agrees, “it seems unlikely that the rest of us would be spared the same fate if this truly was connected to our wormy affliction. She will pull through.”

As much as it pains him to admit it, Gale is right. For all logical sense, this should have nothing to do with the mind flayers—but the thought offers little comfort (few things hinging on Gale’s ideas rarely do.) 

It has started this morning, you had remarked how your head felt wrong. You felt wrong. You had ignored it, had soldiered on. As the day progressed, you complained of aches that had not been there, of chills that ran down your arms. Your skin grew pallor, covered in a sheen of sweat. By the end of the night, a cough ragged at your chest, and you could do nothing f else but whimper to yourself. The slightest motion had set tears out of your eyes, your skin burning itself to rid your body of whatever was happening.

Only Halsin, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart accompanied you now, the two healers were working overtime on an attempt to find your ailment, and Lae’zel was not easily persuaded to leave behind one of her dearest friends.

Astarion thinks of the dagger pressed to poor Wyll’s throat when he kindly attempt to guide her towards a spot nearest the fire.

He’s worried about you. This isn’t new, he’s made peace with the reality that he cares for you, he just hasn’t figured out how to say it. Now, he fears the opportunity may be slipping from him.

It’s Halsin’s booming voice that calms his nerves, he and the other two step out from the tent, his grin palpable even from where Astarion is standing. “She’ll be fine. It’s a nasty virus, I’ve given her a brew to aid in the healing, and I’ve created tonics for the rest of us.”

As he passes them out, Shadowheart walks up to Astarion, who is quickly making his way towards your tent. “You… don’t need a tonic. On the account of you being, you know. Not really alive.”

“You’ve got such a way with words, really,” he breathes, but his eyes flicker to the flap of your tent, “so I can go see her?”

Lae’zel speaks up, placing a firm pat on his arm as she walks by, “she’s certainly been asking for you.”

* * * 

You have two clear, feverish trances.

The first is of your mother. A memory that’s not uncommon, one you drift back to anytime you attempt to rest an illness away. Its familiarity brings comfort as you attempt to sweat this bug out, and ignore Halsin and Shadowheart’s proding over your body. 

The other is… newer. One you hadn’t expected. You’re in a secluded section of camp, feet tapping against the water, skin swathed in moonlight. Your wearing nothing other than a long, white shirt, unlaced dangerously along the neck. This is no more than two days ago. 

You follow the memory along, watch from your eyes as you trace circles along your bare thighs, until you look to your side. Astarion is there, eyes swimming with emotion, as he gnaws on his lip.

Memory Astarion reaches out, grabbing your hand, weaving your fingers together. “I’m glad you’ve convinced me to stick around after our escapades, you are entirely addicting.”

Memory you leans against him, pressing your weight against his. His skin is cool, the chill sending tiny bumps along your exposed legs. “I’m glad you’ve decided to humor me, Star.”

You’re mortified when your eyes flutter open, your mouth in the process of muttering his name, to realize he’s here. Next to you. In your tent. As you sweat through probably a third pair of smallclothes.

“You rang?” He’s cheeky when he speaks, but his hand goes to palm your stomach quickly, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re here, you’re still you. The concern is sweet, and it sends an all new kind of flush across your body.

“Feel so sick, Star.” Shit. Is that tiny little voice coming from you?

He moves then, gentler than he’s ever moved before, carefully contorting his body around yours and pressing you against him. In an instant, it’s like a salve to your soul. You’re covered in him—his smell, his weight, his temperature. The chill itself is a whole other soothe to your aches. 

“I know you are darling, but Halsin said you’ll be better soon.”

“Can’t get you sick,” a cough takes your lungs briefly, “who’s gonna pick the locks for us then?”

He laughs, and smooths a few stray hairs out of your face. “I won’t. Officially medically cleared, according to Shadowheart. On the account of my ‘not being alive.’”

You move to nod your head, but the pain makes you stop. Astarion is quick, and he cushions the movement with his hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hear you were dreaming about me?”

“Maybe. Lots of trances. You know how it goes.”

“Was it particularly scandalous? Is that why my little love is so keen to swear?”

“Don’t have it in me to hit you.”

“You wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s a calm silence that takes you next, Astarion stroking your hair as you listen to the distant clamor of your friends. You break it, after another moment.

“I remembered my mother.”

You don’t often talk about your family, and he knows this. He moved just slightly so you can see his face, curiosity and warmth covering his eyes. “What was it?”

“When I was little, I got sick, nothing bad but still sick. My mother, she’d rub my hair and sing to me,” you pause to close your eyes, as if you could will her here right now, “she’d go to our kitchens and shoo the cooks out, she’d make me her special soup, and when she brought it to me she’d promise me she’d teach me one day.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She was. Smart too. She always knew things about me that I didn’t know.”

“Oh, like what?” Astarion’s face shimmers with a laugh and you use the last bit of your strength to attempt a shrug and burrow into his chest.

“She used to tell me she knew I’d end up with someone older. Don’t know if she knew how old.”

After your words, as if in cue, your chest begins its steady rise and fall, and Astarion recognizes the twitch in your fingers. You’re trancing again. Which means he’s stuck with your words and their heavy implications.

Still, with the way your overheating body simmers against his cold touch, he resolved that he doesn’t mind their weight, not at all. In fact, he’d like more of your burden.

You don’t slip out of your trance that night, but feel the briefest ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

When sunlight rolls around, your eyes blink awake. You’re weak, you can feel it, but better. You go to sit up, but realize quickly Astarion’s weight is still against you, one arm cradling your head to his chest, one arm twisted beneath you. 

You’ve never quite felt so comfortable, so held. You don’t remember what you told him last night, don’t remember exactly what he said. Instead, you decided to live in this moment now, and pray to all the gods you’ll get to relive it again soon.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Positively unstoppable (Halsin Silverbough x reader)

synopsis: It is the height of bear mating season and with the heat around all of you, you and your group are forces to stop traveling for a while. Well, it seems your lover is not quite comfortable telling you it is mating season as he is scared you are weirded out. Yet he also can´t hold himself back when faced with you.

warnings: p in v sex, mating press, Halsin in heat should be his own warning, some bear like behaviour ig, basically porn without plot, kinda fluff at the end, afab reader

word count: 1.5k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon that requested Halsin in heat as soon as they saw my post about researching bear mating season for this <3

Dividers by me

The heat of the height of summer was burning down harsh upon your traveling bodies, bringing your party to a screeching halt when the only thing possible, was to put up camp and find a way to cool down your overheating forms. As soon as your tent is set up, you decide to head to the river nearby, wanting to cool down in the little lake it ended in.

Only after you rid yourself of the clothing and stepped into the water, you notice the towering form of Halsin sitting close by already, his eyes focused on the flow and movement of the river. From the movement of his shoulders, it was clear that he was breathing deeply, most likely meditating. For a moment you contemplate going over to him, but when you look back to where he sat Halsin was already gone. Or so you thought until the water began to ripple into small waves upon the druid stepping into it. He looks tense. More than usual and for sure more than the past couple of weeks, which honestly you didn´t think was possible.

“Are you feeling well? You have been behaving differently for quite some time now.” You voice your concern quietly as to not disturb the peace of the nature surrounding the two of you.

“I can assure you, that I am feeling quite alright.” His words hold relatively little meaning in the face of the way he borderline flinches away from your touch as you begin to run the water over his warm skin. Or the voice that comes out is gruff, yet you can feel his breath hitch just the slightest bit. Immediately you pulled your hands away from him, trying to see through him. A futile attempt so you take his hands in yours and look him deep in the eyes.

"Love, I would be fine even if you told me, you do not wish to talk about it, but just tell me truthfully. Are you alright?" Looking into his eyes, Halsin's pupils have swallowed almost all the green that surrounds them.

In what you perceive as just a sweet attempt to calm your worries, the tall man leans down to rest his forehead against yours, while holding your chin in one gentle hand.

"I am fine." He put emphasis on every word he speaks.

But you are so close and your scent so much stronger than the rest of the year, singing to him in the most irresistible tones. It all made the druid unable to keep himself from nuzzling your face and neck, thus eliciting a so far successfully held back moan and a shiver of arousal runs down your spine. A ripple of pleasure runs through your entire body when he begins to nibble on the tender skin.

"Halsin..." His name trembles from your tongue.

"You're mine." He only growls in return.

It's a rarely seen show of possession from your lover and all the more powerful whispered in the low baritone of his affected voice.

Halsin picks you up as if you weigh nothing and lays you in the grass at the riverbank and doesn't waste a second to crawl on top of you. With one swift motion he hooks his large, muscular arms into the hollow of your knees to lay them over his shoulders.

"Damn it, I cannot wait any longer. Your folds simply feel too immaculate." The druid breathes out the trembling words as he rubs his hard cock between your folds to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves atop it with his tip.

With one strong push and a sigh that fans his hot breath over your ear and cheek, Halsin bottoms out inside your tight cunt. In turn, your walls flutter around his thick member and your back arches until your chest squishes your legs even more between the two of you. 

"Oh, you feel so good inside of me. Always stretch me out so much it's like my cunt will take the shape of your cock one day." You babble mindlessly as you get used to the stretch that feels like it threatens to split you in two.

Halsin doesn't give you much time to get used to his massive size as he sets for an ambitious pace, pushing into your core painfully over and over again until your pained whimpers and moans turn into sounds of pleasure and begging for more.

"Please do not ever stop." You cry out as Halsin's massive paw of a hand begins to pinch and twist your nipples, losing control of himself a bit more and taking the pace and intensity of his thrusts up a notch. One of your hand buried its nails in his shoulder to attempt to ground yourself, while the other grips and lightly pulls on his hair. Immediately your companion leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you with teeth and tongue. The moment your lips meet, he is positively unstoppable.

You get pushed into the grass with his whole weight, his balls slap against your ass cheeks as you get rocked back and forth by inhumanely, animalistic thrusts. The wet sounds of the tip of Halsin´s cock bullying your most sensitive spot, drenching it in your juices as a result and making the sounds of your hips slapping against each other wetter as time went on. It felt so good that the brain fog soon took over, rendering you unable to kiss him back any longer.

“Nothing feels so divine as your tight walls fluttering around my cock.” Your brain barely registers the words the druid huffs against your lips before kissing you again. Unwavering despite the fact your lips hang open ever so slightly to make way for shaky breaths and high pitched, eager whines.

“Fuck, I can feel you are close, my love. Your cunt could not possibly squeeze me any tighter.” Halsin lets out another insatiable growl, before he coaxes the first peak out of your body. Revelling in the sight of you being shaken by the waves of pleasure he provides.

“Halsin…” You moan the druids name like a mantra, like a quiet prayer to your own personal god that simply continued to bless you with the pleasure that still caused your body to tremble in the aftershocks of climax.

Two more peaks he pulls from your body until you are nothing but a puddle of panting breaths overstimulated cries and a lose grip that tries to hold onto his shoulders, to hold your legs where he put them. Only then Halsin bottoms out inside of you once more. Buried as deep as he can, with his thick tip kissing the opening to your womb, he shoots a great amount of his seed into you. Together the two of you stay intermingled for what feels like an eternity. With your arms wrapped around the other to hold them close as you breathe in the air that the other lets out until you both feel dizzy. The druid wipes the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the greatest care and strokes a lost strand of hair behind your ear, while all you can do is to fight the brain fog and keep his eye contact. Those sage coloured eyes you loved so much, gently get you back to reality, where there is nothing left but to giggle until you burst into full on satisfied laughter.

“Hah, I had a feeling you would go insane on me one day. Yet I never would have imagined it would happen after I laid with you.” Halsin jests as he sits back on his haunches and taps your thighs to motion for you to assist him in sitting you up as well.

You follow his wordless command and sit up, wincing when there is a dull sensation shooting through your core.

“Do you feel aright, my love?” He asks with his eyebrows suddenly knitted together in concern.

“Yes, love. Positively spend, but fine nonetheless and you need not worry about my state of mind any time soon.” You lean forward to place a peck on the tip of your companion’s nose. “I was merely overwhelmed with the content feeling that floods me whenever I am near you and did not know how else to handle it. In fairness one should think I would have learned it by now, but I am far from it. It still is so hard to believe I am lucky enough to be able to call you mine.”

Gratefully you accept the small pouch of water that Halsin hands you and take a few sips, before handing it back.

“I understand what you mean. Sometimes it all feels like it is too good to be true. Like being on the verge of waking up from the most beautiful dream.” The soft voice of your lover makes you feel all fuzzy inside with how effortlessly he understands.

“Exactly, like being on the verge of waking up from the most immaculate dream.”

[theofficialpresidentofmars]

zuko and katara have genuinely SUCH an interesting dynamic and relationship to explore when you don’t have a bitch in your ear trying to tell you they should kiss.

like there’s nothing objectively wrong with shipping zut4ra but i CANNOT find any proper duo content of them that isn’t romantic or romantically implied and it annoys me. no i don’t think they would work. no i don’t think Katara would give up her man for that guy of all people. no I don’t think Zuko would be romantically interested in Katara. yes i do think that reducing all of their feelings towards each other into ‘romance’ oversimplifies and undermines the depth of the platonic relationship that they actually do have in established canon. yes whatever I’m sure there’s something sweet about a boy trying to get a girl to forgive him by helping her get revenge on the guy that killed her mom but don’t you think that it’s actually much more profound if there are no romantic ulterior motives whatsoever and it’s actually just a demonstration of the lengths Zuko will go to because he cares deeply about his friends and their feelings and what they think about him and he wants Katara to like him and he’s genuinely sorry that he broke her trust by warming up to her slightly before betraying them and to make sure she knows that he was being sincere and he actually was touched by what she said he tries to find a way for her to heal a wound that he knows tears her apart and it’s a wound he wishes he could heal in himself. and he does it because he’s trying to earn her forgiveness, not her love. he’s trying to earn himself the right to look her in the eye, not to hold her hand. he’s trying to amend for the mistakes of his people for nothing but the better of others.

and when Katara offers to heal him in the cave, it’s not because she’s fallen head over heels at all, or even in the slightest. she’s the first to see the light in him, and she sees a boy who’s been hurt by the fire nation in a similar way to her. she recognises that if she can convince him to come with her now, the gaang is up by a firebending teacher and a friend at best, and down an enemy at least at worst. for a moment she sees him for who he is and what he’s been through and it’s not because she likes him. the thought doesn’t even cross her mind, it’s just in her nature as a person to be caring and understanding and she has the help she can tell he needs, so she extends a hand.

and when they face Azula together? Katara was the first to reach out when it was almost the right time, and she’s the one who’ll be there to help him see it through. When he takes a bolt for her, isn’t it more profound that he jumps in front of the bolt not out of romantic love, but because Zuko is the kind of person who would put himself in mortal danger for anyone he cared about? Because his heart’s too big and because he’s seen those he love get hurt too many times to stand there and let them take it?

anyway I’ve spent too much of this post refuting romance but not actually expressing what it is i do like about their platonic dynamic but it’s late and i don’t have the words. so i’ll just say it’s such in that it would be really funny if Zuko instead dated Katara’s brother. and they yap together and she gives him a list of interests and he tells her embarrassing date stories. they also yap a lot about Aang because like. Zuko’s bff and Katara’s bf he’d probably come up a lot. also Maiko’s platonic shit-talking exes/close friends dynamic solos their romantic dynamic but that’s a discussion for another day ^-^

ship name censored because I don’t intend for any negativity to actually intrude upon certain shipping spaces lmao. i’m rarely opinionated but i don’t really care tbh i just wish there was more platonic stuff out there or i saw less romantic stuff el oh el

[luvsymai]

Baking w/ Shoto Todoroki

Summary: Baking cookies with your boyfriend!

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x GN!Reader

Genre: Romance, fluff

<- Masterlist

Shoto Todoroki had always been the calm, collected type. His demeanor rarely cracked, and he was known for his cool head in stressful situations. So when he suggested baking cookies together, you were pleasantly surprised. You knew he liked cooking, but baking was a whole new territory.

"My, My. Who knew you’d be the one asking to bake instead of me." you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. Eyeing the array of ingredients spread out on the counter. Flour, sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, and butter—all waiting to be turned into delicious cookies.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I thought it would be fun."

You grinned, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "Alright then, let's get started."

Shoto's movements were precise and methodical, a reflection of his disciplined nature. You watched him measure out the flour, his focus intense and his expression soft.

"How's it going over there?" you asked, glancing at Shoto as you mixed the butter and sugar together.

"Good. Almost done with the dry ingredients," he replied, his eyes meeting yours with a rare spark of warmth.

As you combined the ingredients, your hands brushed against his, sending a small thrill through you. You couldn't help but smile at the way he seemed so concentrated on such a simple task.

"Should we add the chocolate chips now?" he asked, breaking you out of your reverie.

"Yeah, can i maybe do it?" you asked, Shoto simply nodded as he watched you poured in way too many chocolate chips into the dough.

“Are you sure that isn’t too much?”

“Too many chocolate chips doesnt exist!” You declared with an evil glint in your eyes. He sweat dropped before shaking his head lightly, glancing at you as the corners of his lips moved up, suppressing a smile.

You both took turns stirring, and you couldn't resist the urge to be a bit playful. "You're pretty good at this, Todoroki. Are you sure you haven't been secretly practicing?"

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Maybe. Or I’m just good at anything when you’re with me." He shrugged.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow.

As the cookies baked in the oven, you both leaned against the counter, enjoying the warm, sweet aroma filling the kitchen. Shoto's usually stoic expression had softened, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him.

"Shoto," you said softly, "this was a really great idea."

He turned to you, his expression gentle. "I'm glad you think so. I enjoyed it too."

You leaned in, brushing a light kiss against his cheek. "Next time, let's try making something even more challenging. Like a cake."

He smirked, a rare playful glint in his eyes. "You're on."

As you waited for the cookies to finish baking, you couldn't resist teasing him a little more. "You know, for someone so serious, you’re pretty cute when you're concentrating."

His cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of pink, and he looked at you with a mix of embarrassment and affection. "And you're insufferable when you're teasing," he said, his tone light.

"Admit it, you love it," you said, leaning closer to him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe I do," he murmured, his voice low.

Before you could tease him further, Shoto leaned in and pressed his lips softly against yours, silencing you in the most pleasant way possible. The kiss was gentle, his lips warm and sweet, just like the cookies you were baking. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart melt.

"You're impossible," he said quietly, but there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.

"And you love that too," you replied, your smile matching his.

As the timer beeped, signaling that the cookies were ready, you couldn't help but feel grateful for these quiet, happy moments with him. They were the little things that made everything worthwhile.

[am-i-interrupting]

Could you do Vox, Lute, Alastor, Velvette, Lucifer, and Husk with a S/O who they love to spoil and constantly give the princess treatment (regardless of gender)? For example, someone messed with their S/O, they make sure they aren’t seen again.

Alastor

You rarely have to lift a finger when you’re with Alastor. At least, for certain things.

He’ll insist that you’re the only person who can make his coffee correctly but he makes dinner, he cleans, he buys all the things you’ll ever want or need.

He lets you dress him up. He wants you to match. He wants people to look at you both and know who you belong to.

That’s why it’s so rare for someone to do something.

All it takes is one slip up.

One moment of the slightest disrespect and Alastor is there, neck snapped, eyes dialed, and voice distorted.

“I beg you’re pardon?”

Husk

When he was an overlord, you got dressed to the nines 24/7.

Dressed to match him with golden accents and placed in his lap so no one could mistake you for anyone else’s.

His hand on your thigh as he plucks one of his cards from your hand and lays it on the table.

He’ll wrap his arms around your waist and drag you even closer, his face half hidden behind your shoulder as he wins yet another round.

Back then, it was easy to show who was boss.

Now under Alastor it was a bit harder.

Now he defends you with the power of a sheer disgusted tone, magical cards, and broken glass bottles.

Lucifer

You get the ultimate Queen treatment from Lucifer.

Breakfast in bed, massages, expensive dinners and soft dances.

It takes a lot to get him defensive.

It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s that he knows you can take care of yourself.

He’ll be upset, of course, but unless you ask, he won’t do anything.

Then when you do, all it takes is a moment for people to be reminded that he was the first being to ever set foot on Hell’s soil.

Red eyes, large horns, a flame between them, four spread out wings, and an anger to go with it.

Lute

You get treated so sweetly in private.

She’ll randomly drag you into kisses and you’ll find so many things you never bought with your things.

With the people in heaven, there’s rarely any reason for her to get defensive of you.

The winners are not much of a problem but the other angels. . .

Adam once made a comment about you and quickly found himself on his back with a spear at his throat.

“It is only out of respect that I do not end you right now, sir.”

Velvette

You are Velvette’s little plaything, her dress up doll.

You’re by her side always.

In her clothing always.

You labeled with her name, quite literally.

It takes someone very ignorant or very stupid to not know that you’re hers.

It’s very rare that she ever has to show her power.

If someone makes some comment towards you, then their reputation is permanently slandered.

There was one singular time she disappeared for a moment and came back covered in blood.

A video was uploaded later that very day that showed everyone why Velvette was an overlord.

Vox

You have a personal assistant who doubles as a bodyguard. You never need a thing. You never want for a thing either.

He always has his eyes on you if not his hands.

Something always happens to someone who talks badly about you.

Normally a little device in their pocket electrocutes them with more electricity than it should be capable of having.

If you like what I’m doing, consider helping me pay for school.

[nexysworld]

sooo, sorry to bother if your requests aren't open buuuuttim i'm with achademic rivals gojo x reader, but they are teachers who fights to have the best class :p

Hi Anon! Not sure if this is exactly what you were looking for but, I did write a little oneshot for this. <3

Pairing: Rival Teachers Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader Tags: NSFW, Nearly Pure Smut, stripping, oral sex, unprotected sex, school sex Word Count: 1.9k

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˚♡︎˚˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You tripped forward, grabbing the desk to catch your fall, staring at the scoreboard in shock. Too shocked to care about the way he all but ripped your skirt off, or the twist of unwanted heat it caused elsewhere. Miwa and Mai you weren't surprised about in the slightest. Mechamaru though, who had he lost against?

"Looks like that's another point for me, princess." The comment had you pouting, eyes meeting the silky black of his blindfold as he knelt before you. Even with half his face covered, he still managed to look smug as fuck. If you could, you would have clawed his face off. "You're lookin' a little beat down there. You sure you still wanna go through with this? I'm a nice guy, I'll give you a chance to back out - we both know the outcome anyway." He ruffled your hair like you were a puppy.

"No we do not," you insisted. "There's still Todo and Noritoshi."

"You don't even have two pieces of clothing left," he laughed, snapping your bra strap. "You still owe me this one for that robo-kid. And if either of them lose..." he walked his fingers down your spine, tugging at the elastic hem of your panties. "Well, then I win," his voice a low rumble as he spoke against your ear.

Satoru rarely talked like that, and the shakeup in demeanor made your stomach knot. The last thing you wanted was to give the man any sense of satisfaction, but the uncomfortable thrum between your legs made them tense.

Of course even a minute movement like that, the slightest change in your heartbeat - it all gave you away to his creepy super-human senses. "If you're that excited already, we can just skip to the good part. I don't mind."

"No way!" You gathered the last shred of pride, tucking it down into your soul before pushing off the desk to stand. You made a mental note to have Shoko check you out after this was all over. You must have suffered some great loss of brain power to have agreed to this strip-poker variant to in the first place.

Satoru Gojo never lost. That should have been the first clue, he wouldn't make a bet he wasn't sure he'd win. But he wasn't the one fighting this time. Pride in your students, doubt in his ability as a teacher, and having the opportunity to knock him down a peg were enough to have you agreeing to this stupid challenge.

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs, propping his long legs onto the desk.

You faced the wall, not having the nerve to fully show off before him. His gaze bore into you like freezer burn. While you'd never asked for the details, something told you that he could see you just fine through the dark fabric that covered his eyes. At the very least, you were thankful he finally shut up for a while.

Unhooking the clasps, you tossed the bra to the side, covering your chest with an arm to reclaim some modesty.

He whistled.

You lobbed a paperweight at him with your free hand. It suspended in the air an inch from his face before it clattered to the ground, shattering. He hadn't even flinched. "Now that's not nice. Such a turn-off y'know."

"I don't care!" You would have continued laying into him if not for the scoreboard lighting up again. A glimmer of hope lit up your soul as you saw Todo's name turn green. There was still a chance!

In an instant, that little fire of hope was snuffed out. Choked. Brought out back and curb stomped.

Noritoshi's name turned red.

"What did I tell you? Your students didn't stand a chance. They were far to weak." His voice made you jump, not having noticed how quickly he returned to your side. His presence was looming, intimidating even, now that you knew what came next.

He pressed you back onto the desk, his hands rested on your hips. You half expected him to tear your panties off, claim his prize. Instead, he just stood between your legs for a moment, one hand tugging down the blindfold.

Silky white hair wilted, framing his features, blue eyes shimmering like gemstones. The goofy grin that was typically plastered to his face was gone. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Stop staring at me like that and say something."

"What, I can't admire my prize?"

"No."

"That's too bad." He pressed himself closer. His pants were tented tightly, the hardness solidly flush to your thigh. He still hadn't done much of anything though, and the anticipation was killer, plucking at your nerves until they frayed one by one. "You sure you're ok with this?"

The question was surprising. If it had come from anyone else it would almost be sweet. "I lost, you won. Just get on with it."

"I won’t force you. I’m not that type of guy." He seemed genuinely sincere, but there was no mistaking that carnal look in his eye.

A part of you considered taking him up on the opportunity to save face, grab the discarded clothing and run out. But his arousal continuing to press against you, his breath tickling your face - he was all expensive cologne and sugar. The combination was making your brain a little fuzzy. "It's fine, I agreed to the bet," you finally said, cheeks heating up.

He responded, pulling the arm away from your chest exposing your breasts to the air. He pressed a kiss to your collar bone, dragging his tongue down to your left breast before circling your nipple with it. A heady gasp echoed the room, your stomach muscles tensing from the pleasure. His free hand plucked at your other nipple, deft fingers massaging it ensuring it wasn't left out.

Satoru chuckled, mop of white moving lower as he dragged his tongue down your belly, only stopping to press kisses here and there. His head between your legs, he pressed another kiss to your clothed pussy, the tease sending the smallest spark of arousal straight to your hazy brain.

"I've always thought you were a cutie. Personality could use some work though," he teased. "But I think maybe you've just been pent-up all this time."

You would have quipped back, but any retort died on your tongue the moment your panties disappeared, disintegrating into thin air. Satoru's tongue was between your folds the next second, tongue swirling around the tiny bundle of nerves. He ate you out exactly as you'd expect someone like Satoru to do. His tongue was skilled, but fast and ruthless in its actions, not coaxing you to release but urging it.

The pink appendage took turns flicking against your clit and swirling around it. One hand kept your balance on the desk, your other tangling in his locks. "F-fuck!" you whined, toes curling. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were ready to explode. You bucked your hips against his face, eyes closing.

"Satoru, g-gonna..." He acknowledged you by sucking the bud into his mouth as you came, using the tip of his tongue to make you tremble with aftershocks. You couldn't catch your breath, thigh muscles tensed from the onslaught of pleasure. Soon you were tugging at his hair, urging him to stop. "C-can't, no more."

He gave one finally lick, pulling away to look up at you. His eyes were lidded and shadowed under thick white lashes. He was panting, lips pink and slightly swollen, chin drenched in your juices.

He wiped his face with his sleeve before hoisting himself up. The bulge in his pants no less prominent than before. "Guess I was right, you were pent-up, came so quick. I could get used to you cryin' my name all pretty like that too," He teased, even through catching his breath.

"Can you go five minutes without talking?"

"Nope," he said popping the p sound obnoxiously. "Besides, this is my prize remember? I'm enjoying myself with it." He made quick work of his belt buckle and zipper. There was a distinct wet spot on his boxers form where his erection had been neglected this whole time. Above the elastic waistband, you could almost see a patch of snowy hair that led to what you assumed was his chiseled v-line. The horny part of your brain wished he'd removed his button up too so you could see more. He'd probably do it if you asked, but the prideful part of your brain wouldn't let the request out.

He sighed in relief, tugging the white fabric down freeing his arousal. You were surprised. For the way he presents himself, and the way people talk about him, you half expected some monster between his legs. Instead, it was just a cock. Beautiful, long and pale with a flushed pink tip. It wasn't small by any means, but the real thing was far from the intimidating monster you'd whipped up in your mind.

He fisted himself a few times slowly, precum beading at the tip. The sight of it made your hole clench with need and mouth go dry.

"Face down for me baby," He commanded. "Spread those beautiful legs while you're at it."

Time slowed for a moment as your brain worked to process the instruction, but you did as he said, moving so you were bent over the desk. You rested the side of your face on your arm to keep the cool hard wood from pressing against it.

He whistled again, "Now that's a treat to look at." He pressed the tip to your wet folds, sinking in until his pelvis was flush with your ass. He stretched you out perfectly, walls happily clenching around his cock as he slid out only to rut against you again.

Satoru had one hand pressed against your lower back, the other squeezing your hip as he sloppily fucked himself into you, a string of expletives on his tongue. "Fuck you're tight. Good girl, just suckin' me right back in." He praised, not easing up. He fucked like a rabbit, quick and hard. It was fitting, and so good.

You raised your ass up just slightly by changing how your legs were spread, the new angle far more intense that you expected. Cartoon stars danced through your vision as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs again, desperate to explode. "'Toru....'Toru......'Toru..." You mewled his name on repeat, free hand clawing at the desk to cope with the sensations.

"That's it, good girl...fuck..." His praise made you feel all fuzzy inside, adding to the high of it all. "Can I cum inside? Wanna fill you up, so bad." You'd never heard his voice sound so whiny and pleading. His hips were sputtering out of rhythm, but picked up intensity. It was clear he was close.

"Y-yeah."

He whimpered, gripping both of your sides as he shuddered. His cock twitched inside of you, warm sticky spurts of cum warming you from the inside out. He slowed down, only moving enough to ride out his own pleasure.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead leaning over, propping himself up on the desk by his elbows. You could feel his uneven breathing, his head resting between your shoulder blades. "We should make bets more often."

Drunk off pleasure and coming down from the high, you nodded still not wanting to detach yourself from the desk or search for your clothes just yet. "We should," you agreed, likely to regret your own words later. 

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

[makethemhoesmad]

close to you

paigey🫶

might have a part two, might not

enjoy!

—

I don't got a single problem with provocative

it had been a while since i’d been out. i haven’t wanted to look good, pretty, slutty, in months. tonight was different. nothing had happened, exactly. one thing just lead to another, then i called my friends and here we are, driving out to somewhere i always forget the name of.

See the bodies, how they burn, it's just the way it is

there are so many people here, all packed together like sardines. i brush hips and arms and hands with people, not remembering their faces, names, or voices when they try to apologize softly, but end up shouting in my face.

Smoky, dark, crowded room

it’s dark here, too. the air feels almost hazy, but that might just be me. i can’t find my friends, but i think i catch a glimpse of one of them far on the other end of the room, their blonde hair looking almost too bright for the atmosphere.

I need nothing under pink light in June

i don’t need my friends here, with me. not under the haze, the sweat, the loud music. who i thought was my friend turns around, face in a rare glimmer of pink spotlight, letting me realize that this blonde woman isn’t someone i know. however, as my eyes skate down her body, noting toned abs and defined biceps, i find myself thinking that maybe id like her to be someone i know.

I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden

You saw me look at you

i guess i stare at this mystery girl too long, because she turns, making eye contact with me. i let out a short, audible gasp, flinching away immediately. i shouldn’t have. i should have looked right into those blue eyes until she was interested enough to come and talk to me.

I burn for you, and you don't even know my name

i don’t do that. i look away, face burning. this is fucking embarrassing. she doesn’t even know my name, i’m pretty sure i don’t know hers but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i should. i glance that way again, to see her gone. i’m almost disappointed, until a flash of blonde appears right next to me, and the body carrying it snakes an arm around my waist.

If you asked me to, I'd give up everything

“Hey ma, haven’t seen you here in ages.”

you stutter at her words. she remembers you coming here other times? you barely remember your last time here, why should a stranger know that?

“Haven’t been here in ages, but how would you know that?” i question, batting my eyes up at her. she’s quite a bit taller than me. taller than the average, that’s for sure.

“i’ve seen you, baby, and ill always notice when a cute girl is here wandering around, looking a bit too intimidating.” with her words, she pulls me closer to her, then starts walking through the crowd, and pulls me out the door.

“too hot in there for you, sweetie?” i nudge at her, smirking playfully. she winks, sending a straight shot of heat right down to a place that shouldn’t be hot right now.

“nah, jus’ wanted to ask if you wanted to come home with me out here, where i can hear you better.”

To be close to you

no is probably the smart answer, but for some reason, my mouth keeps moving.

“you see, i’d say yes but i don’t even know your name. wanna start there, or should i just call you sweetheart and we go from there?” 

when the nickname tumbles from my lips, her eyes glaze over just the slightest. 

“paige.” she says. i tell her my name, and she drags me to her car. she leans over me, presumably to open to passenger seat. instead, she slots her lips against mine, letting out a quiet whimper when my mouth opens. i reach back, opening the door and letting us tumble in. she pulls me onto her lap, moving my hips into a heavy grind through our clothes. i groan against her lips, the sensations making my eyes roll back.

“you like that, baby?” She huffs into my ear. i respond by tucking my face into her chest, while rucking up her shirt. she’s wearing nothing under the thin cropped tank. 

i lean down even further, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. i moan around it, as paige speeds up her work on my hips. suddenly, she stops. she climbs over the center console into the drivers seat, then pulls me into a seated position.

“what are you doing, sweetheart?” i say. she seems to like the name still, because her tongue juts out to wet her bottom lip. 

“taking you to my place. wanna watch you come undone on my tongue, ma.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unending.

Continuation of Undeterred.

Pairing: Furina x Reader (+Arlecchino) [Genshin].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Melodramatic Lesbians. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

 Furina had not been made to be loved.

It was an unfortunate truth she’d come to terms within the first decade of her being. As an archon, she’d received adoration. As a performer and a director, she knew appraise. She’d experienced things like love, things that came very close, but never love itself. Her creator had not loved her, no more than Focalors had loved any of the people she’d come so close to dooming, and even those she’d been close to as a goddess were no more able to love her than a member of the audience would be able to love a starring actress. And that was the way it should be, she was able to convince herself on her best days. There was no point yearning for things that could never be. What had she ever done to be worthy of love, in the first place?

“My lady?”

She didn’t stir at the sound of your footsteps, only leaning more of her weight onto the balcony guardrail and throwing the quickest, slightest glance over her shoulder. You were a sight – hair thoroughly tussled, discolored bruising in the shape of Lord Arlecchino’s teeth painted down either side of your throat, a robe of ivory silk pulled loose over your body – but she was sure that she was no better, herself. The insatiable exhaustion that seemed to drape itself over her perpetually was now paired with a distinct ache in her shoulders, a soreness at the base of her throat. It would be worse in the morning, although shame would’ve started to soften the night’s harsher edges, by them.

You didn’t ask before taking a seat next to her and thrusting a porcelain chalice into her lap. “More wine?” she asked, taking it up reflexively.

“Water,” you corrected, settling into place beside her. “I thought you might want to start chipping away at tomorrow’s burden.”

Only half-consciously, Furina found herself smiling. She’d always been fond of that side of the human mind – always so considerate, even when the slanted angle of your posture and the slight limp in your step made it clear you’d rather still be in bed. Gods, like her, were rarely so selfless.

Only, she wasn’t a god anymore. She’d never been, really – only an actress preforming the role of one.

She stopped herself before could spiral any further.

You’d rather be in bed, she retreated back to, instead. Furina was sure of it. That was where she’d left you – Arlecchino’s face still buried between your thighs, your hands balling at her silk sheets in pleasure. It was a good match – you and Arlecchino, two brilliant minds hidden behind cruel tongues and beautiful faces. She could only hope that, once you took your rightful place at the Harbinger’s side, you’d remember to write her a letter every now and then. “You really should start packing,” she muttered, absent-mindedly. “I think I remember Lord Arlecchino mentioning that her ship leaves at dawn.”

You hummed. “And where would I be sailing away to, my lady?”

“…Snezhnaya? That is, unless she has obligations elsewhere.”

Another hum, a quick shake of your head. “Snezhnaya’s far too cold at this time of year. If it were Mondstadt, maybe, but for Snezhnaya, I’m afraid I’d never be able to force myself off the boat. Fontaine’s climate is much more agreeable.”

Her lips quirked downward. “Don’t patronize me, I—” Her voice cut out, abruptly. It was a fight to summon it again, but she soldiered on. “I know her interest in you is genuine. You’d be a fool not to leave with her.” You opened your mouth, but she only raised her voice. “If you’re afraid of leaving me alone, don’t be. I—I can manage on my own, and—”

She grit her teeth, clenching her eyes shut. In an instant, your hand was on her shoulder, your side pressed into her arm, but she refused to let herself fall back into the familiar haven of your comfort. “And,” she managed, eventually, even if her voice was weak, her tone dangerously close to tipping into something suitably pathetic. “It’s not as if I’m an archon, anymore. You don’t have to keep pretending you like being around me.”

You let a moment pass by in silence, then another.

Finally, you said, “It’s true that Lord Arlecchino is very charming.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, just—”

“And her prowess on the battlefield and at the war-table can’t be overstated.”

“Well, it’s unfair to compare—”

“And I’m sure her salary as a Harbinger would make it so that I never had to lift a finger for as long as I choose to stay with her.”

“Alright, I never asked to you to do all that—”

 “But,” you went on, your hand falling onto her own and squeezing, gently. “I’m afraid I’ve already sent her away. I doubt it’ll last, but for the moment, she seems assured of my total and utter inability to reciprocate her affection.”

Furina couldn’t help but blanch. “You sent her—Why? She’s so handsome, and tall, and—”

“And I’m not in love with her.” You slumped against her, your exhaustion shining through your low-brewing mirth. “It’s awful, honestly. It’s a terrible waste, honestly. I’m afraid the girl who’s truly stolen my heart is far too oblivious to ever notice me.”

Her eyes widened. It was in turn to take your hand, now, to snap towards you – her fatigue instantly replaced with curiosity. “You’re in love with someone? Who? Why haven’t you told me?”

Your only response was a slight smile, an airy laugh. Your eyes darted up to meet hers, and Furina felt her cheeks start to burn. “Oh.”

“I know,” you said, with another breathy chuckle. “Like I said, it’s terrible.”

Oh.

It felt like a stupid thing to ask. It was a stupid thing to ask, but her hand was shaking by the time it found your cheek and her throat felt dry and it was all she could do to make herself say anything at all. “Can I…?”

She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. Your mouth was already crashing into hers, the kiss more tender than any other form of intimacy she’d experienced that night, any other form of affection her immortality had ever seen fit to afford her. She felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes, something dry and choking begin to swell at the base of her throat, but she choked it down, melting against you.

Furina, the archon, had not been meant to be loved.

And yet, there was still a chance that Furina, the human, might turn out differently.

[fatuismooches]

HIII!! First of all I wanted to say that i love your blog and your writing! it brings me so much comfort :(( ANYWAY I WANTED TO REQUEST SOME CUDDLING HEADCANONS AND MAYBE A SMALL SCENARIO WITH DOTTORE?? fluff!! yknow just sleepy cuddles <3

It wasn't often that you woke up to your husband in the same bed as you. Of course, at this point, you were used to Dottore's absence, but nothing could quite fill the void that you felt when you rose from a cold bed. And although you did bother the other segments for affection to your heart's content, even they found themselves many times too busy to entertain sleeping in with you. Still, you were just happy to be with them and cherish the soft moments that happened whenever they did.

However, a habit of yours that had developed whenever you were feeling the lack of attention, was slipping into your husband's (or a segment's) room and snuggling on his (not very comfortable) bed. If you were being honest, Dottore's bed, much to your dismay, didn't really smell like him very much, for a simple reason - he rarely ever lays on it. An easy remedy to this, however, was just to steal one of his shirts. The scent was very... Dottore-like, something that oddly brought comfort to you.

On this particular day, you easily made your way into his office - empty, unfortunately, but not too surprising. He was probably in that lab of his as usual. Regardless, as you entered into the connecting (very bland) bedroom, you immediately made yourself at home on his bed. In fact, it was exactly how you left it a few days ago, messy and tussled, meaning that Dottore certainly hadn't slept on it again. Perhaps he didn't even enter his own room for that long. Your urgent words for him to rest only got through his thick skull once in a blue moon. Regardless, you pulled the blankets up and curled into them, eager to preserve the warmth, and too tired to fluff the pillows a bit more before you fell asleep.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that you were a lot more warmer than usual. And then, when you tried stretching to pull off a bit of the blanket, your body's movement was strangely constricted by something else. Plus, it felt like it was a lot earlier than when you usually get up. Your sleepy mind had just barely begun processing the situation when a sudden voice abruptly woke you up a lot more.

"Go back to sleep." The voice was a bit deeper and gruff than usual, but undoubtedly, it could only belong to one person, which made your heart start racing with excitement.

"Dottore!" You immediately began wiggling in his arms, trying to turn around and see him, sleepiness still holding your body hostage, not to mention how tight his arms were. "Let me see you," you complained.

"Stop moving around," he grumbled some more. "Now is not the time I wish to entertain you." And yet he languidly began to nip at the nape of your neck. But that reminded you - for him to be in bed was already a rare occurrence, and from his voice, it sounded like he was genuinely sleeping. This was... excellent news, so you probably shouldn't push your luck.

"Fine," you complied, relaxing your body once more. A wave of sleepiness hit you despite your energy from a few moments ago, but you ignored it. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Dottore parroted, as his sharp teeth continued to dig into your skin. "I come back to my room and find my bed occupied by someone who wasn't invited. The question should be, what are you doing here?" You could only sheepishly laugh as you remembered everything.

"Well... you should know your room is mine too, you know! Besides, to make it even, you're welcome in my room anytime too!~" Dottore clicked his tongue, but it was obvious to you he didn't mind your intrusion in the slightest.

"Regardless, go back to sleep. You are tired." Despite your attempts to stifle your yawns and hide your drooping eyes, your husband had noticed it all too well.

"Don't wanna," you quickly protested. Before he could open his mouth again (and perhaps teasingly threaten to help you sleep) you spoke again.

"If I go to sleep again now, when I wake up, you won't be here anymore, will you?" You didn't need to see his expression or wait for a response to know the answer to that.

"So let me do as I please, Zandik. Let me be with you." Let you bask in this moment, fully conscious of what is going on, being able to feel and process his skin against yours and more, for you would hate to be unable to remember this gentle encounter.

"... Do what you wish, but don't bother me when you're too tired to do anything." His seemingly annoyed statement was betrayed by his arms tightening around you.

"I will." Your response ended the line of conversation, a comfortable silence now taking over. Needless to say, you wallowed in his strong back pressed against yours, his callused hands against your own, a long lock of blue hair tickling your neck. You made sure to take note of even the most minuscule details before it was time for life to resume.

What existed at this moment was merely two human beings, so similar yet so different, with their troubles and masks discarded to savor the presence of each other.

[da-shrimping-station]

Andrealphus with a human!SO who's curious about his scars

gender-neutral reader | slightly suggestive | mentions of sex and nudity | he calls his SO darling as an endearment | nonsexual intimacy (for the most part ig?)

MINORS DNI

i will take your kidneys 🧡

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

He can feel them staring intensely. It doesn't bother him the slightest, given that he's received far more hostile glares, but that doesn't mean he's not curious. It's rare for his darling to look at him like that.

"Is there something wrong?"

Andrealphus turned to where they are, senses acute enough to locate them despite their quiet. There was a rustle of cloth and soon enough a body pressed against his.

"You have a lot of scars..."

"Do they bother you?"

He was never one for vanity, before or after being blind. What only mattered was that he was, at the very least, clothed. Even when he became one of Niflheim's nobles. Black did well with bloodstains and a simple suit was all he needed. A tie was out of the question because no matter how much he practiced, he somehow could never get it right. And the only reason that he bothered to braid his hair was because it could be a liability in battle, what with getting tangled or grabbed if he let it be.

So, appearances were the least of his concerns. So long as his body functioned well enough to fight, that's all that mattered.

"They don't bother me," they reassured. "It's just that, seeing them makes me realise what you went through."

Their fingers gently tapped at his wrist before holding his hand.

"I never really cared for the scars." For the majority of his existence, all Andrealphus did was fight. "The doctors from Paradise Lost can't say no to me when I ask for their assistance."

He's a model patient to them, following orders and recommendations to hasten his recovery. Rushing things would be a detriment in battle.

There had been times when he'd been too zealous with fighting and outright disregarding his physical state in order to fulfill his bloodlust. It cost him and his comrades dearly.

Gusion's rant and Bathin's disapproving comments still ring in his ears to this day. Yet they still helped him, dragging him back to where Marbas was in order to receive proper treatment. He made sure to express his thanks by staying put and actually listening to the doctor.

"Still," his darling insisted, snuggling closer to him. "It makes me sad, I guess? That you had to go experience such pain. I know you can handle it and that you've gone through worse but..."

The pair sat in silence, the mid afternoon sun filtering through the window and the sheets rumpled over their bare lap.

Andrealphus thinks he understands. Humans are delicate after all and Niflheim demons are the hardiest of devils in Hell, followed by those of Tartaros. Not to mention he is a noble to boot. Suffice to say, his body can take a lot before he's down for the count. Yet he also understands their concern, he thinks. They've never interacted with devils before they got to Hell and what knowledge they have of its residents are only surface level.

Maybe he should accept Gusion's offer of tutoring his darling about the norms and cultures in Hell. There was also a suggestion from Bathin to give them basic training for self defense.

Maybe.

Are his scars that unsightly that his darling would go so far as to point it out? It's not that he's unaware of them. They're just a fact of life, given that the entirety of Hell was at war for a century now and he was constantly on the frontline.

"Are they that unsightly?" Enough for them to point it out?

"No. Not the slightest. In fact," they trailed off, sounding a little hesitant. "I find them attractive."

"Oh, I have no doubt towards that," Andrealphus said with a chuckle. "If I remember correctly, you jumped on me the first time you saw me shirtless—oof!"

His darling punched him lightly (to him at least), as they grumbled in embarrassment. He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them in for a kiss. They still haven't cleaned up from earlier activities, thought that's the least of his concerns right now. Not when his darling kisses him back with equal fervor and adoration.

"Andrea–" They gasped, moaning as Andrealphus set his eager mouth to their chest. Such music to his ears. "C-can I touch your– Ah! Your scars–"

Their nails dug into his shoulders, trying to steady themself as he set them on his lap properly. He growled as they yanked at his hair, halting his onslaught so they can catch their breath.

"Can I?" They asked, breath ragged and a face flushed.

"You can touch wherever," he said, giving them one last kiss as reassurance. He let them settle on his lap properly and patiently waited.

Hesitant fingers traced along his right bicep. He knew there was a scar there having touched it when he bathes.

"Where is this from?"

"Sparring with Bathin."

"Oh?"

"He is skilled with his sword. If I were any slower, it would've gone through my arm."

His darling let out a concerned hum but kept quiet nonetheless.

The rest of their afternoon went like that. Tentative touches on scar tissues and hushed voices asking questions as they explored the visible scars on his body. They used to be inconsequential to him. Just another notch on his body as proof of another hard won battle and further proof of him reaching his goals. But with how his darling touches them, even going so far as to give the bigger ones a kiss made him feel proud to have them.

Andrealphus thinks he'd found a slice of paradise, here in his humble home, with his darling in his lap, and the rest of the world so far away.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

A/N:

hiiii i've had a bit of a drink and when im drunk, i write (because i need me some of that dutch courage to stop being conscious about my writing)

gonna add this to my collection of "drinking drabbles"

this was all done in one sitting and definitely not proofread so,,,,,,,

also typed this all up on mobile so idk what's the word count or if the formatting is okay

eheheheheh 🦐

[furybymoonlight]

See Me (Now) – Part II

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x OC/Reader

Warning/Genre: NSFW!, Age Gap, Angst, Suggestive Theme, Smut, friends to lovers

Part I

Part III (final)

***

“I don’t want you to dance with other man…and this dress…way too sexy.”

He said slowly, putting emphasize on each word. She could see that he was trying to restrain his emotions, but his words triggered her. Who the hell did he think he was?

***

Why am I such a wuss?

She had been staring at her phone screen for the past hours, endlessly debating whether she should call Trent or not. It’s been a week since the kiss. The new year was around the corner, and she still avoided being alone with Trent as best as she could. Thankfully, this festive season was a busy one for Liverpool with no long period in between matches.

There were of course, instances that required her to interact with him, their parents were best friends after all, and even when things were awkward between them, she wouldn’t pass the chance to support him and watch him played live. So she went to the games, cheered for him in every match, yet every time he approached her, she decided to play dumb, pretending like nothing had happened between them and kept the conversation casual. Surprisingly, the footballer played along with it, didn’t attempt to press her for a moment alone to talk about the kiss. She even began to doubt whether it had been real.

Yet how could it not be? When she could still remember his taste….or how his palm burned the uncovered skin at the curves of her hip as he pinned her to the wall. It didn’t help that now she paid more attention to how his muscles rippled when he played in the field or how his smile made her heart did a double somersault.

She was not blind, she knew that Trent had grown up to be a good-looking man, even good looking was putting it mildly. Tall with lean yet defined physique, skin and eyes in the sweetest shades of caramel, bright smile that never failed to make her life somehow better, even at her less than stellar moments….the man was absolutely gorgeous.

Was she attracted to him? She used to see him just as a younger brother, until at a certain point she simply couldn’t anymore. She always tried to push that notion away though, ‘tried’ being the operative verb. Mainly because after all, they were…well – them. Trent was the first one she called when she had been accepted to her dream uni or when she randomly saw a cute dog on the street. Just like she was the one he first reached out to when he had a difficult game or when there’s a new Drake album coming up. They had always been there for each other, in grand moments and everything in between. Their connection was so precious, she didn’t dare to risk changing it in the slightest. It had never crossed her mind as well that Trent would want their relationship to be romantic, but the kiss definitely proved otherwise, right?

The ringing of her phone snapped her out of her reverie. It was Maddie, one of her close high school friends, asking her if she would want to have a girls’ night out at a newly opened club downtown. Club wasn’t really her scene, but she felt she’d be going crazy if she was alone with her mind for much longer, plus, it was rare than she could hang out with her old friends. So she dressed up, wearing her go-to little black dress that molded her body in all the right places and headed out.

***

“So….how are things with you and Trent?”

Maddie suddenly asked and she almost choked on her dirty martini as her friend raised a knowing brow. They were currently at the bar tables, volunteering to order shots for the others.

“We’re just close friends.” She said as she drank the rest of her cocktail in one go. Seemed like she needed a stronger drink to get through the night.

Maddie tilted her head, looking unimpressed.

“Huh…tell yourself that the next time you two exchange starry eyes across the room when the other side isn’t looking.”

Had they been doing that? Or more importantly, had Trent? She was about to inquire more when her friend spoke again.

“Well, speaking of the devil.”

Maddie’s words made her turn her head, just in time to see Trent entering the room with his teammates, looking devastatingly handsome in a simple white shirt paired with a well fitted black trousers, complimented by a black leather jacket. Her lips reflexively tugged into a small smile, jeez she had it bad. Thankfully it didn’t seem like he had seen her, as she was standing near one of the grand club pillars.

“Just talk to him. I’ll go bring the drinks to our table.”

Maddie chuckled before walking away with the row of shots.

Collecting her courage took a while, but just as she was about to step forward, a flock of girls swarmed around the players. One girl sauntered dangerously close to Trent. She was incredibly pretty, dressed in a red clothing that left none to imagination. She saw them chatted just for a few seconds before the girl smashed their mouths together.

Her belly churned, and she could literally feel her heart cracked. She turned away and returned to the bar, eyes felt hot with unshed tears. She didn’t see that he pushed the girl off of him right away.

A hollow laugh left her mouth. Stupid. She was just beyond stupid. How could she ever thought that Trent wanted her to be his girlfriend now? The kiss must be just a joke for him, such a cruel joke. Maddie was definitely mistaken in her observation.

Trent had changed, he was not the shy sweet boy from the neighborhood that, even though he grumbled a lot, was willing to play girly games with her anymore. He was a top class footballer now, rich and handsome, with pretty girls, most probably models, threw themselves at him anywhere he walked.

It was not that she was unattractive. She was not plain by any means, and had received compliments here and there, but she was not model-like. She always felt her bum was a bit too big, and she often hoped her thigh could be slimmer. She was merely a uni student, taking chemistry engineering for God’s sake. It couldn’t get any nerdier than that…and more unsuitable to his glamorous world. She took a deep breath, shaking her head. She never felt that they were so different than at that moment.

“Tequila, double shots, please.”

She said to the bartender after she was sure she would not break down, at least not then. She just wanted to not think at that moment.

She swallowed one small glass after another like her life depended on it. She didn’t know how many shots she had taken. It was not enough to be absolutely wasted but enough to build a fog around her brain, which was exactly what she needed.

A man suddenly sat right beside her, asking her for a dance. He was good looking, in a neat kind of way, with slick black hair. He was not really her type, but hey, she just wanted to escape tonight, and the man could be a good distraction. Besides, it was just a dance.

She let him lead her to the dance floor. Closing her eyes, she swayed her body in rhythm of the music. The man put his hands on her waist and began to dance as well. Dan was his name if she heard him right, or perhaps it was Dane? She really couldn’t care less. Dan’s hands started to slide to the small of her back, then slid down close to her arse. It just felt wrong. She was about to push Dan away, but someone beat her to it, with a rather unnecessary force at that.

“What’s your problem, man?!”

“Stay away from her. She’s with me.”

Trent’s voice pierced the fog in her mind, and before she knew it, he already dragged her away.

They walked briskly passed his teammates who were lounging on a long sofa, but then Trent continued leading her away. She awkwardly waved at them with one hand. Robbo opened his mouth, clearly wanted to say something, but Trent shook his head. Usually, it would not deter the Scotsman from anything, but something in the Right Back expression that moment managed to shut him up.

She tried to remove her hand from his grip, but he just tightened it, so she just let him. She didn’t want to make a scene and she was kind of grateful that Trent had managed to remove the stranger from her.

Her appreciation died the instance he pinned her into the wall of the club’s exclusive seating space. It was situated at the separate corner of the club. It did not have a door, but had a divider, granting them enough privacy since the guest there had to ring for the server to come.

“What are you doing?!”

His usually warm brown eyes were cold, his tone scathing. He looked like he was up for blood and if she was anyone else, she would have feared him. Yet she knew Trent would never harm her…at least not physically.

“Well, what were you doing?!”

She snapped at him.

“What?”

His expression morphed into confusion. She shook her head, trying hard to tame down the bitter emotion within her.

“Nothing, I… I better get back to Maddie and the girls. Thanks for helping me with the man though. I owe you one.”

She attempted to break free, but the younger man wouldn’t budge. His fingers dug into her shoulder, keeping her on the spot.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“For dancing with a man? You gotta be shitting me.”

“I don’t want you to dance with other man…and this dress…way too sexy.”

He said slowly, putting emphasize on each word. She could see that he was trying to restrain his emotions, but his words triggered her. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Well in this last hour I found out that I don’t want a lot of things to happen to me, but they did anyway. We can’t always have what we want, can we?!”

“What do you want?!”

Perhaps it was liquid courage, or perhaps she was just at her breaking point, but she exploded there and then.

“You want to know what I want?! Fine!! I want our kiss to not happen because now I can’t keep my feelings towards you in check!! I want you to not kiss the girl in red tonight! I want you to not see other girls at all…”

Her voice gradually got quieter as more and more tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision. She fisted her hands and put them against his chest. She closed her eyes. She was already pathetic enough, she didn’t want to see him pitying her.

“I want you…to see me as a woman…only me. Why can’t you just….see me, Trent?”

She said in a broken, trembling whisper. Her heart was bleeding, and nothing can salvage it.

Trent softly cupped her face, thumbs tracing her cheeks to wipe her tears, but still she cried and kept her eyes shut.

“Look at me.”

He said and she stubbornly shook her head, but then her breath hitched in her throat as he closed the gap between their lips. Unlike their first kiss, which started out quite tentative, this time he didn’t give her a chance to resist him. He plundered her mouth, sinful tongue sneaking through to meet hers. He feasted on her like he had been hungry for months and she let him, because if this was the last time she could kiss him then she would take whatever she could get. She could be gone the next day, back to uni, mending her heart far away from this city, and this man. She just hoped to God that there was still some part of her heart remaining.

She wept inside as the man abruptly ended the kiss, only for him to lift her up. His strong hands on the base of her thighs, he pressed her against the wall. Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her dress now bunched up, baring her thighs, and she bit back a moan as the movement created a delicious friction on their nether regions.

He stared into her eyes, dark toffee eyes lit up with desire, and some other emotions that she couldn’t decipher yet.

“You’re all I can see, damn it.”

He hissed at her. Then he sealed their lips together in a fiery kiss, before moving on to the delicate skin of her neck. Propping her up just with his left hand, he then used his right to push down the thin straps of her dress, baring her shoulder to him. He traced the juncture of her neck with his lips before biting on the sensitive skin. This time, she couldn’t hold back her moan and she felt him smirk against her skin.

He kissed her again while gently bringing her legs that had been crossed at the small of his back down so she could stand up. She wobbled, putting her hands on his broad shoulder to steady herself. God, her insides felt like liquid fire.

“Trent – “

She yelped as his fingers suddenly slid pass her thin underwear, which was shamefully drenched at this point.

“Ssshh so wet….all for me, isn’t it?”

She could only nod and bit her lower lip as long, deft fingers moved inside her, pouring oil to the fire within her. Her eyes started to flutter shut.

“Eyes on me.”

As if under a spell, she instantly obeyed, trapped in his dark eyes, letting him take in every detail of her expression as he pleasured her with his talented fingers. It felt just like seconds, or maybe it really was. At one point, his thumb pressed on the tiny nub at the top of her drenched entrance and she came undone, her cry of release swallowed by his mouth. Their lips clung for a while, and some time had passed before Trent helped her to wear her dress properly again.

“Let’s go.”

Trent said as he took of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulder, then put an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.

“Where are we going?”

She asked automatically, though she didn’t really care at this point, her mind still fogged by the release that he gave her.

“My place, not a fan of other men seeing you in this dress at all, definitely not gonna risk them seeing you naked.”

Author’s Note: Ahh, always a fan of the old-age misunderstanding/jealousy trope. LOL. Please don’t sue me. Anyway, this was longer than I had imagined. It looks like it will be three parts instead of two, the next would be the last, I am sure this time. Please let me know what you think and thank you for reading, whoever you are <3