#yawn yawn yawn yawn so tired my yawns are spreading through the tags yawn yawn yawn YAAAAAWNNNN

[5tupidusrnam3]

unfinished Objectober 3 drawing

Theme is camp yes yes I’m yawning so much tears are flowing out of my eyes so I can’t continue with this today because I am TOO TIRED to like idk I’m just making excuses lol

it’s like an hour and a half left until it’s not October 3rd anymore. So I’m posting this now so I don’t miss a day I AM SO TIRED OHMYYGOODDDA AAAA i will sleep no jk i won’t I’m gonna go to sleep at like 2am like usual (not on ppourpoise though)

[a-killer-obsession]

S 1&2👀

Congrats on 250 followers!<3

Deep Sleeper

Prompt: Somnophilia

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, dub-con, fingering, oral (giving? and receiving), p in v sex, facial, humiliation, threesome F/M/M

WC: 1.9k

Event Masterlist

“Night everyone,” you yawned, ready to leave the post-battle victory celebration and head to bed, “wake me if anything exciting happens.”

“Like we could wake you if we tried,” Killer snorted, receiving a round of laughs from the surrounding crewmates at your expense.

“Whatever!” You puffed your cheeks and huffed, “I'm not that deep of a sleeper!”

“Yeah?” Killer smirked under his mask, “you wake right up don't you?”

“Like that time you fell asleep in Dive's spot on the couch,” Heat laughed, “so she bit you!”

“I thought she was dead!” Dive clattered her teeth together as she giggled, “she didn't even wake up when House was stitching her up!”

“It was one time!” You pouted, “I was really tired!”

“Okay, then what about that time you fell out of bed during a storm,” Wire added, “and you came to breakfast with a shard of wood sticking out of your shoulder that you didn't even realise was there?”

“I have a high pain tolerance!” You frowned, crossing your arms and staring daggers at Killer for starting this. “I wake up just fine when someone wakes me, thank you very much!”

“No you don't, you narcoleptic bitch!” Kid roared, “Kil and I could fuck ya brains out and ya wouldn't wake!”

“Yeah? Bet!” You squinted at him, laying down the challenge. Sex was not something any Kid Pirate was shy about, but you were confident you'd wake up at that, especially knowing how big the two men are in that department.

“Yeah, and what do we get if we win?” Kid smirked, exchanging a knowing look with Killer.

“The two of you can freeuse me for a week,” you replied confidently, “and if I win, you take me off the bathroom cleaning rotation for the rest of the year.”

“Deal,” Kid held out his flesh arm and you shook it, Kid grabbing your hand hard and pulling you close, “Yer gonna look so pretty at breakfast with my load on yer face,” he purred in your ear, making you shiver, before you turned and scowled at him for appearances, despite the electricity pooling at your core.

Kid and Killer gave you plenty of time to fall asleep, not that you needed it, you always fell unconscious hard and fast after a good battle and a good feast. The two of them made their way to your room, laughing and shoving each other, anticipating the fun they would have with your body. They knocked on your door, out of principle, but of course you didn't reply, which only made them laugh more. They entered your room with muffled snickers, even Killer having trouble suppressing his true laugh as they found you asleep face down on top of your covers, still fully dressed, shoes included, like you'd just flopped on the bed and immediately passed out.

“What did I say?” Kid laughed, “Fuckin’ narcoleptic!”

“Adds to the challenge,” Killer noted, pulling your shoes from your feet, “probably did it on purpose, thinking pulling her clothes off would wake her.”

“Sounds to me like she's askin’ to lose these clothes,” Kid smirked, pulling a dagger from his bandolier. He slid the blade under the edge of one leg of your pants, before sliding the blade up, cutting open the fabric, repeating the action on the other side until all that covered your ass was a scrap of denim. Killer removed the scrap, before tearing your panties and pulling them away as well, leaving you without clothes on your lower half and exposing your cunt to the men. Killer pushed at your thighs to spread your legs, your pussy pretty and inviting, a slight glisten to it from your earlier arousal.

“Pretty,” Killer noted, running his thumb through your folds, to which you still didn't wake, snoring softly as he touched you. “She's wet, she was really counting on us trying it huh?”

“Little slut,” Kid gave an amused bark, “let's roll her, I wanna see her tits.”

Killer rolled you over unceremoniously, and Kid was quick to rip open your blouse and run his dagger through the connection between your bra cups, your breasts springing free, nipples pert as the cold air breezed over them. Kid gave your nipple a pinch, watching your face for a reaction and smirking when you didn't even twitch. “She's fuckin' out of it,” he laughed, “let's have some fuckin’ fun, aye?”

The two of them stripped off their clothes, Kid even leaving his metal arm against the wall and Killer removing his mask - that was how sure he was that you wouldn't wake up. Killer knelt between your legs, nuzzling his nose against your clit before running his tongue through your slit. It wasn't often that he got to indulge in one of his favourite treats, since he didn't usually remove his mask, and he groaned against your cunt as your honey collected on his tongue. He lapped at your cunt, circling your sensitive bud and toying with your entrance. Your pussy leaked as he stimulated you, your body responding to the pleasure he was giving you even while unconscious, which pleased him greatly.

Meanwhile, the bed dipped as Kid knelt next to your head, stroking himself as he admired your pretty, plush lips. He ran his thumb over your lips, pushing it inside and feeling how hot and wet your mouth was. He rubbed his cock against your cheek, smearing precum on it, before rubbing his shaft against the seam of your lips. He used his thumb to pull open your mouth, pushing the fat head of his cock between your lips, just putting the tip in your mouth and making shallow thrusts before deciding to go a little further. He couldn't deepthroat you like this, but he could enjoy the way your cheek bulged as the head of his cock prodded against the inside of it. He held your jaw open just enough that your lips were still tight around his shaft as he worked his cock in and out of your mouth.

Killer began the process of stretching you out so they could take turns fucking your pussy, first bullying his tongue inside you before switching to his fingers, sucking on your clit as he worked two inside of you, then a third, pumping you slowly and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. Killer curled his fingers and the two of them heard you moan softly around Kid's cock. “Fuck, do that again Kil,” Kid instructed.

Killer made come hither motions inside you, and your gummy walls fluttered around his fingers as you moaned again, your pussy getting tight around his fingers as a small gush of fluid came out of you. “Oh fuck, she came!” Killer laughed, “she fucking came and she's still asleep!”

“Now that's what you call a wet dream,” Kid chuckled, “she ready for a cock?”

“Yeah, you want to go first?” Killer asked, still pumping his fingers into you.

“Yeah, shove off,” Kid barked. The two of them swapped spaces, Killer opting to wrap your hand around his cock to fist himself with it, the head of his cock pressing against your open lips with each motion, his free hand playing with your tits. Kid lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed in, making you whimper in your sleep as his fat cock stretched you further. “Fuck, so tight and wet,” Kid growled, “her cunt is sucking me in, greedy slut.”

The two of them used your body in unison, even the jostling of Kid's increasingly hard thrusts not waking you from the bone deep sleep you were in. You made the occasional soft moan but made no sign of waking as they fucked you, Kid getting more daring with the speed and force of his thrusts as Killer slipped his cock in your mouth just as Kid had earlier. Kid felt himself getting close as you made little whines in your sleep, drool pooling at the corner of your open mouth and dribbling down your cheek and neck. “Swap with me,” Kid barked, “I'm about to paint that pretty face.”

The two of them swapped places again, Killer groaning as his cock slid inside you, squeezed tight by your hot wet cunt. Kid held your mouth shut as he rubbed the underside of his shaft against your lips, precum leaking from his throbbing cock before he grunted and came, spilling thick white all over your lips and cheek, some of it dripping into your hair. “Ha, nice,” Kid mused, slapping his softening cock against your cheek and using your soft skin to wipe away the last drips of cum. “Your turn Kil, paint her white.”

Killer didn't need much longer to get him there after watching Kid cum on your face, fucking you hard and fast in a manner that would have any conscious woman screaming in pleasure. He truly didn't understand how you hadn't woken up, he was really being rough with you, and his fingers would no doubt leave bruises on your hips. He pulled out quickly when he felt himself getting close, not making it all the way to your face but managing to coat your chest in a viscous spray of cum, a few rogue splashes making it to your chin as he straddled your stomach and panted. The two of them exchanged shit eating grins, knowing they had won the bet, before Killer climbed off you.

They removed the remaining scraps of your clothing so you would just assume you'd fallen asleep naked, knowing you were ditsy enough to forget you went to bed clothed, before getting their things and redressing. Killer scooped you up bridal style so Kid could pull back the blanket, and they tucked you into your bed, not cleaning off their cum purposely.

The next day nothing seemed amiss when you woke. You could have sworn you went to bed dressed, but you guessed you must have misremembered. You preferred to shower after breakfast, when there were less people taking up all the showers in the communal bathroom, so you sleepily made your way to the galley. Crew mates snickered and nudged each other as you made your way to the table where Kid and Killer sat, the two of them struggling to keep a straight face. You served yourself breakfast from the sharing trays on the table, shoving a forkful of eggs in your mouth before realising everyone was staring at you, slowly removing the fork and swallowing your mouthful.

“What?” You asked anxiously, worried there was some sort of spider on you or something.

“You got a little something in your hair,” Wire snickered, pointing at the side of your face. You touched where he pointed, your hand coming away covered in something white and sticky.

“Uh.. ARG,” you shouted as you realised what it was, wiping your hand on your pants, “KID THAT'S FUCKIN’ DISGUSTING!”

“Had to leave some proof,” Kid smirked, “we're gonna have so much fun with that tight cunt over the next week. Hope you're ready to not get any sleep. Or maybe we'll just fuck you in your sleep again.”

You groaned and pushed your plate out of the way so you could slam your head against the table in defeat. Maybe you should see a doctor about your sleeping issues. Or not.

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Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

[peachesofteal]

Mother Peaches you. You are BLESSING us with content. And I am an ungrateful heathen stepping into your home to throw out a thought that if you by chance were stumped on something to write or wanted to throw a scrap out into the void as a warm up writing piece or cool down or whatever the writer equivalent is. May I propose the idea of Simon and Johnny boy taking care of darling when she has a cold? The sniffles, if you will. For I fear that I am on deaths doorstep and this cold will actually take me out. My dying wish, if you please, dear peach. May those two beefy boys take me to the gates of heaven.

Here is some comfort and fluff for everyone before Chapter 11 goes up. Consider it a gift. Hope you recovered well, dear anon! Ghost/Soap/female reader - Dead Disco verse Warnings-tags: sickfic, loss of consciousness, hospitals.

"Ye're sleepy this morning." Johnny hums, palm smoothing over your forehead. "Ye feelin' okay?" A yawn stretches your lips wide, and you shrug.

"Yeah, just tired." Your head hurts a little, an ache reverberating behind your skull, spreading out from your eyes to your ears, so you bury your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin. "Don't wanna get up."

"Well, ye dinnae have to. But I thought we could have breakfast while we wait for Si." He murmurs. You blink up at him, sight a little bleary, and he frowns, brow wrinkled in concern. "Darling?"

"Yeah, breakfast is fine. Good." your lips smack, dry. Crusted. You snuggle closer, chilled, and Johnny wraps his arms around you, rubbing a palm down your back.

"Are ye sure ye're feeling alright?"

"Mhmm."

"Breakfast in bed, then?" The proposal carries weight, memories, of past meals in bed, ones that ended with you being the meal instead of whatever Johnny whipped up, but instead of it exciting you, you relent to your weariness, sinking back into the sheets with a sigh. Johnny kisses you, sweet lips on your brow. "Go back to sleep, love. I'll bring you something in a bit." And well, who can say no to that?

You wake some time later to the bed shifting, blankets being moved. The air is heavy, thick with heat even though you're freezing, the throbbing in your skull much worse than it was before.

"Darling?" It's Simon. He's in bed beside you, trying to peel you free from the pile of blankets. You open your mouth to respond, but instead of words, a dry heave wells in your chest, rough, sputtering cough wracking your body. "Fuck, okay. I've got you, c'mon. Up we go." He heaves you into his arms, supporting your weight, back to his chest, your breathing labored.

"She's gotten worse." Johnny grimaces, thumb stroking your temple. "Didnae have a cough this morning." This morning?

"What time is it?" You croak.

"It's nearly twelve." Twelve? You've slept the whole morning. You fidget, trying to shift off the bed, but Simon stills you with an arm across your chest, palm flat over your heart.

"Jus' take it easy. You're not going anywhere."

"I slept the whole morning." You protest, but let them lay you back, settling you against the pillows.

"You're sick, darling. You're running a fever, and I don't like the sound of that cough." You shake your head, trying to protest, but when you take a breath, it gets stuck in your chest, and your eyes widen when your lungs heave. "Alright, you're alright." Simon soothes, voice low in your ear. "Just breathe, that's it." Once the bout finishes, he resettles you, and then trades places with Johnny, tucking him in alongside your body, working the blankets in around you both.

"Simon's goin' get ye some tea, and I'm goin' hold ye for a while."

"We had plans today." You moan, and he clucks.

"We can reschedule. Ye're what's important." Blue eyes full of worry watch you, and his brow crumples. "Ach, poor darling girl. I'm sorry ye're feeling so bad." He's so sweet, so kind. So loving, even when you're sick as death, it still makes you feel so warm and tingly, all through your body.

"Love you." You whisper, and he holds you close, nose in your hair.

"Love ye too."

Everything is dark. You feel like you're swimming in a murky pool, blackened, sticky tar that weighs you down, your arms and legs trying to fight to propel you up to the surface for air, working to break through so you can breathe.

In the water, in the deep, someone calls your name. Someone yells it, shouts it, and you try opening your eyes in response, to no avail. I'm here, you want to scream. I'm right here. Your body shakes, like you're being dragged, tossed around like a doll, and you try to speak, use your voice again. Nothing comes, and the dark swallows you whole, filling your mouth and nose with it's pitch black water, pushing you beneath it's swell once more.

The next time you wake, you're not in the bedroom. The ceiling is white, world too bright. There's something on your face, in your arm, and you whine at the feeling, skin pulling taut beneath tape.

"Hey, hey. You're alright." It's Simon, Simon's voice around you, pulling you closer, and your vision focuses, to see the two very concerned, very frantic faces of your boyfriends hovering over you.

"There she is." Johnny breathes.

"What..." You look around. This is a hospital. Why are you in the hospital? "What happened?" Just being in a place like this makes you anxious, sends your pulse rate higher, and they both glance up at the sound of the hurried beeping coming from the monitor.

"Ye're okay. It's alright, darling. Take a deep breath."

"We couldn't wake you up." Simon explains from your right, sitting back in a chair that's been pulled to the side of the bed. He clutches your hand, kissing your knuckles. "You were wheezing and it-" He stops abruptly, swallowing. He looks scared, you realize, and when you look at Johnny's face, you see it too. The fear. The worry.

"Ye sounded like ye were in pain." Johnny says. "We called for an ambulance and brought ye here."

"Am... am I okay?" You whisper, and they both smile, gently. Sweetly.

"You're okay, darling. You're going to be fine. You're on a strong course of antibiotics and we're going to take you home tomorrow." Simon assures, still holding onto your hand. Johnny perches on the bed by your hip, leaning over to kiss you, lips on your cheek for a lingering second.

"They said we can stay with ye tonight." He gestures to the little pull out bed by the window, and a recliner that has a pillow and blankets stacked on it. "Hospital sleepover. We're all goin' eat jello." He thumbs your cheek, and you both smile, eyes wandering to where Simon sits like stone, severe expression on his face. "She's alright, Si. See?" Johnny murmurs, and he nods.

"I know." He clears his throat. "I know she is." You squeeze his hand.

"Everything's goin' be alright." Johnny continues, and Simon's eyes shudder for a second, slipping shut when he takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he looks calmer, more steadfast, and you smile at him.

"How about that jello, then?"

[writingforstraykids]

More than friends - Chp.5

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 5519

Summary: On your ride home, Chan notices Minho needs some extra attention tonight, and before you know it, you're invited. Chan makes sure Minho and you feel comfortable throughout the process and lets you experience your own dominance once Minho fully submits to the both of you...

Warnings/Tags: smut, bottom!sub!min, top!dom!chan, switch!reader, p in v, oral (f/m receiving), anal, subspace, very subby min (as requested), chan gets called sir/hyung/.., reader gets called baby girl/kitten..., minho gets called bunny/pretty boy,..., fluff, aftercare, cuddles

A/N: I know I said part 4 was the end, but you asked for more, so here we go. A very subby min, as promised. There's literally no plot, have fun guys😂👀

PART FOUR

Skin to skin, breathe me in Feel with your kiss on me Lips are made of ecstasy I'll be yours for a thousand lives For you ~ Liam Payne, Rita Ora

Minho listens to Chan and you chatter on as he tries to stay awake. The last three weeks have been exhausting, and he's glad to be back home with the two of you finally. He watches you interact from the backseat, smiling to himself as he sees how close you've grown. Stifling a yawn, he gently tugs at the sleeves of his sweater and leans back in his chair. 

"Tired, baby?" Chan asks, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. 

"Exhausted," he nods before sighing softly. "No idea if I can sleep, though, I feel too tense." 

"I can help with that," Chan suggests and Minho smirks at him amused. 

"And leave me all on my own?" you pout. A heavy silence settles in the car, and they exchange another glance. "I was joking," you say half-heartedly. 

"What if you..join?" he asks almost too quietly to hear. 

"No, seriously, let Chan take care of you and-." 

"Do you want us to take care of you?" Chan cuts you off, and Minho's throat dries. His eyes filling with need betray him and Chan chuckles to himself. "Judging by that look on your face, you do." 

You turn in your seat to face him and search his blown, hungry eyes. "You're sure?" 

"Mhm," Minho hums, chewing on his lower lip as need spread through his body like wildfire. 

"And you uhm - how is that going to work? I mean, you never…" you trail off, blinking at him. Minho always took control when he's with you so far. 

"Don't act so innocent, you weren't exactly submissive when we had sex," Chan snorts. 

"That's because you were too needy to make me stop bossing you around," you protest softly. 

"Oh, that's a first," Minho snorts, and Chan shoots him a look through the mirror that makes him squirm. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask curiously. 

"He tends to slip when he's all overworked and needy," Minho smirks nevertheless, teasing Chan. "Suddenly forgets he's in control when he's feeling really good." 

"Min," Chan speaks up firmly, and you watch with curiosity how Minho tenses up at the tone, hands clutching his jeans. "Don't make me regret offering you to take care of you." 

"Channie hyung, no, I'm sorry for teasing, I'll be good, I promise," Minho breathes out, eyes widening. He licks his lips and stares at him with pleading, soft brown eyes. Chan's grip around the steering wheel tightens. Oh, he's good. 

"Mhm, you better," he says calmly, but glancing down, you can tell he's getting hard by Minho's pleading look alone. 

"Missed you two so much," Minho says softly. "Missed stuffing you with my cum and licking you clean," he goes on, locking eyes with you. "Missed being good for you and feeling full," he rambles on, looking back at Chan. 

"If you don't shut that pretty filthy mouth of yours right now, I'll make sure it's busy with something else," he growls softly, and you instinctively press your thighs together. Minho sits on his hands to stop himself from allowing some much-needed friction against his dick straining in his pants. 

"Busy with whom?" you ask, and Chan scoffs. 

"That's for me to decide, doll," he says. 

You clench around nothing at the sudden change of dynamics in the car, both Minho and you staring at Chan, longing for something to happen. That's what you've been waiting for, what he hasn't allowed himself in the past week yet. Fully taking control, making Min and you bow to his will. 

It's silent for a moment before Minho speaks up, barely audible. "Can I eat her out later, hyungie?" 

You bite your lower lip hard and glance at Chan excitedly. Chan glances back at you and chuckles softly. "You'd like that, baby girl?" 

"Yes," you nod eagerly. 

"Please, Channie hyung," Minho chimes in from the backseat. "Wanna make our girl feel good." 

Our girl. You might as well pass out. 

"Relax, bunny, of course you can," Chan assures him and stops the car in front of your house. "You start when I tell you to, or else you'll get nothing from me today, and you two can figure it out on your own." 

Minho's eyes widen and he exhales almost shakily. "I'll be good," he whispers, and you wonder if he's afraid of being unable to switch back from his subby state if Chan drops him like that. It sure looks like it. 

You get out of the car, gently adjusting your skirt as you notice you're already soaking your pants in anticipation. Minho steps out of the car, nervously tugging at his sweater to conceal the very prominent bulge in his pants. Chan gets Minho's suitcase, fumbling for his keys and urging the two of you toward the house with a gentle wave. Minho's hand slips into yours as you wait for Chan to unlock the door, and he exchanges an excited look with you. Chan pulls the door closed behind the three of you and raises his eyebrows as Minho drops to his knees the moment he does. He wraps his arms around your legs and buries his face in your stomach with a soft sound. Chan doesn't seem that fazed anymore and reaches out for him, soothingly patting his head. "So eager to please, bunny?" 

Minho makes a muffled sound against the fabric of your shirt and nods before lifting your skirt and burying his face in your core, only parted by your panties. You gasp as his nose presses against your clit and exchange a nervous glance with Chan. A needy groan escapes his throat as the soaked fabric meets his skin, your scent taking over. "Hyungie, fuck," he whines, and Chan chuckles, running his hands through his hair before gripping it and pulling him back. 

"Did I say you could start?" he asks firmly. 

"S-sorry," Minho stutters, lower lip trembling. "Just wanna make her feel good," he pouts, glancing up at him through his lashes. Minho on his knees, explaining himself to Chan, is a heavenly sight, really. 

"Please, Channie," you say softly, pressing your legs together at the missing touch. 

Chan's eyes meet yours, and you swallow at the dark lust clouding his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, baby girl, you came three times before we left to pick him up. You can't be that needy." 

"You'd be surprised," Minho laughs weakly, fondling your thigh. "That girl's a needy little s-." 

Chan grabs his chin and gives him a stern look. "You're not the one to judge here," he points out his current position on the floor. "Now behave, you two. Min, you stay dressed. Y/N, take off your clothes, living room," he instructs the two of you, and Minho scrambles to his feet. 

Chan gently kisses your temple to reassure you before sending you off. Minho looks at him fondly and chews on his lower lip. "Kiss?" he asks so sweetly, Chan can't deny him. Minho hums as their lips meet, and his whole body visibly relaxes. 

"You know your safeword, I'll be there the whole time," Chan says and takes his hand. 

"I'm so tired already, I might slip," Minho whispers. He doesn't mind falling into subspace; he knows Chan takes care of him and ensures he's comfortable and safe. A warning is never too much, though. 

"I'm here. I got you," he nods and squeezes his hand. "You know our signals; I know when you are." 

"Okay," Minho nods sweetly and pulls him with him to the living room. "You're okay with this?" he checks in with you, eyes glistening as you discard your shirt to the floor. 

"I am," you assure him. "I know my safeword and stuff. I trust you guys, and I trust Channie to keep an eye on us." 

Minho smiles and steals a kiss. "That's good," he nods. 

Chan kisses you next, caressing your cheek. "I got you, baby girl." 

Minho wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you with him to the sofa. He sits down with you in his lap and softly kisses you, nudging your noses together. "Gonna make you feel so good, honey." 

You allow yourself that little moment of reassurance and watch Chan as he prepares your favorite pillow for your head. You're only wearing your underwear now, and a shiver runs down your spine as Chan opens your bra, kissing the back of your neck as he pulls it off your body. A soft groan escapes Minho at the sight of your breasts, nipples hardening at the sudden change of temperature. Chan cups your breasts and kneads them, making you moan out his name. He kisses your shoulder softly and exchanges a fond look with Minho. "Such a beautiful girl. Y/nnie and I are going to take good care of your needs, bunny," he promises him, and Minho beams at him so full of love it makes his stomach flutter. Chan soothingly fondles down your sides, coming to a halt on your hips. "Get on your back for Minnie, okay?" 

You nod compliantly and get comfortable. The sight of your boyfriends admiring your body makes you squirm a little. Their eyes seem to be undressing you even though you're only wearing panties by now. Minho glances at Chan obediently, sitting on his knees between your legs. "Hyungie, can I start?" he asks gently. 

Chan gets comfortable in an armchair opposite you and nods. "You can start, baby." He watches as Minho pulls down your panties and marvels at the form of your naked body. "Open your gorgeous legs for Min," he tells you, smiling as you do without hesitating. 

Minho doesn't waste a second, getting comfortable between your legs and burying his face in your soaking core with a sweet groan. "Mhm fuck missed you so much," he tells you and licks up between your folds agonizingly slow. 

You hum softly at the motion and smile down at him. "Me or my pussy?" 

Chan snorts, and Minho shoots you a playful glare. "Both, obviously," he clarifies, rubbing up your thighs and spreading your folds with his fingers, watching as you clench around nothing. He hums to himself before burying himself in your wet core, dragging his tongue across your tensing hole. His nose pushes against your clit as he does, and you shudder above him. Fuck, he missed that. "Sweet girl," he marvels, tongue traveling all over your soaking pussy to lap up your juices. "So fucking wet for us." 

"Can I touch him?" you ask, glancing at Chan and almost choking on your breath. Chan's sitting on the armchair, legs spread wide, and strokes his dick, still fully dressed besides that. 

"Sure," Chan hums gently before his eyes travel back to Minho buried between your legs. 

You glance down as well, biting your lip hard as Minho looks up at you through his long lashes, moaning sinfully at the taste of you. You reach out for him, running your hand through his hair, and he hums pleased, eyes fluttering close a little. Minho pushes his tongue inside, thumb lovingly caressing your clit. He moans, vibrations shooting up your body at it. "Shit, Min, feels so good," you moan blissfully and tug at his hair. 

Minho whimpers against you, and glancing down, you notice him more or less subtly rutting against the sofa. 

"Min," Chan moans out, and Minho pulls away from you, making you whine at the sudden loss. "Stop fucking the sofa, I told you we'd take care of you." Minho doesn't even protest, even though his dick hurts as he watches Chan. You follow his eyes, swallowing softly. Chan's curls frame his face beautifully, lips parted with soft pants as he strokes himself. "Go on," he breathes out. 

"Please don't cum yet," Minho says quietly, and Chan frowns at him. "Want to suck you off when I'm done with her." 

"No need, this is enough," he says, gesturing at the two of you. 

Minho's body trembles, and tears brim his eyes, making you gulp softly. "Hyungie, please," he pouts sincerely, and you gently take his hand, soothingly fondling it. Your heart hurts at how desperate he looks, and you begin to understand why Chan is so damn protective of him. If that's the side he sees of Minho when they get intimate and vulnerable, it's no surprise he'd keep him safely stored in his pocket if he could. "Wanna make you two feel good before you take care of me, please." 

Chan searches his eyes observantly before nodding. "Okay, Minnie baby," he says, eyes growing incredibly soft. "Now, take good care of Y/nnie." 

"I will," he nods eagerly, a beautiful smile covering his face. He squeezes your hand tenderly before burying himself back between your legs, sucking at your clit.

You gush against him with a loud moan, hand shooting back into his hair and pressing him close. "Fuck," you whisper, hips bucking up against him. "Ch-Channie," you press out, stomach tightening at Minho's skillful little licks and touches. Chan hums in response, only lazily stroking himself now. "M'so close." 

"You like it that much?" he asks, and you whine in response. "Hear that, Minnie, she can't answer properly with your mouth on her." Minho almost purrs at that, squeezing your thighs. "Go on then, beautiful, make a mess of our pretty boy." 

The sinful moan against your clit that leaves Minho's lips at that is enough to push you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, body spasming beneath him. Your eyes roll back as Minho collects all your juices, not stopping even as you whimper from overstimulation. "Fuck, Min, stop," you beg, trying to squirm away, but he keeps you in place. "Min-ohh," you squeeze your eyes shut as he sucks on your clit so eagerly it makes you cum again. You pull at his hair and shake at another intense orgasm. "Channie," you plead as Minho keeps going on, too pussy drunk to stop. 

Chan tucks himself back in and steps next to you, grabbing Minho by his hair and pulling him back. Minho leans into the firm grip, lips parting with a breathy moan. His face is a mess, and so is his hair, and he smiles at you lazily. "Easy there, bunny, not so eager." 

"Sorry," he apologizes softly to you and fondles your thighs. "Love you, kitten." 

"Love you too, honey," you assure him softly. 

"Mhm, look at the mess you made," Chan hums gently, wiping his thumb across Minho's glistening lips and licking it clean with a soft sound. 

Minho moves onto the floor, reaching up to unbutton Chan's jeans before hesitating. He glances up at him with pleading eyes. "Can I suck you off now, hyung?" 

Chan chuckles softly and unbuttons his pants for him, pulling them down to his knees with his boxers and sitting down at the end of the sofa. "Come here, baby," he nods, and Minho does, resting his chin on his knees. Chan reaches out for you, soothingly rubbing your thigh as you're still coming down from your high. He smiles gently as Minho eagerly leans forward as soon as Chan makes room for him, spreading his legs. He licks up his shaft, hand stroking him experimentally. Chan groans softly as Minho wraps his lips around him and sinks down deeper. He tenses as he hits Minho's throat, and he gags around him, tears shooting to his eyes. Chan pulls him back and leans down, cupping his face. "Stop rushing, baby; we have all the time you need, okay?" he asks soothingly, kissing his forehead, nose, and lips. Minho kisses back with a soft moan, gripping the fabric of Chan's pulled-down jeans. Chan lovingly runs his hand through his hair, soothing him for a moment before guiding him back down. Minho takes his time now, relaxing his jaw as he goes on, moaning at the taste of Chan on his tongue. 

You sit up shakily after a few moments and lovingly kiss down Chan's neck, who throws his head back against the sofa to give you more room. Your hand roams his stomach before covering Chan's, buried in Minho's hair, and intertwining your fingers. Chan gasps as you bite down below his ear, nipping at his skin and guiding Minho's head with him. "Minnie, look how good you're making Channie hyung feel," you tell him, and Minho glances up, fingers gently massaging his balls. 

Chan's jaw grows slack, plump lips falling open with a beautiful moan. His eyes flutter close as Minho takes him in deeper, moaning around him. His hand sinks down to his neck, keeping him in place as he thrusts into his mouth. "So good, bunny," Chan presses out. "Doing so well for me, fuck," he pants, pushing himself further down Minho's throat. Chan turns his head, chasing your lips, and you let him kissing him passionately. He moans into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as he gets close. "Min, baby, fuck," he barely gets out before shoving Minho down his dick roughly, releasing down his throat with a guttural groan. 

Minho pulls back with a fucked out look on his face once Chan loosens his hold on him and licks his lips in anticipation. Chan catches his breath and cups his face with one hand, gently wiping the spit off his chin with his thumb. "Good?" Minho asks sweetly. 

Chan smiles fondly, tucking himself back in. "You've been very good." 

Minho glances at you expectantly, and you can't fight the smile covering your lips. "So good," you agree and lovingly ruffle his hair. Minho hums, pleased with himself. 

"Now, bunny, I'll prepare you so I can make you feel all good and full as you wanted," Chan explains, still caressing his cheek. "Once you're ready, Y/nnie will help me out, okay?" 

"Okay," Minho nods quickly. 

"Y/N?" Chan checks in, and all you can do is nod. "Speak up." 

"Yes, sir," you stammer, not quite sure where the hell that comes from, but Chan doesn't seem to mind, poking your cheek. You let him guide you into your previous position and watch them curiously as he pulls Minho to his feet. Chan helps him undress, kissing him firmly as he does. Minho lets him, chasing his lips with soft whines. Chan lets Minho undress him beside his boxers and kisses him one last time before whispering something to him you can't hear. You watch Minho cautiously as he comes over and laugh, surprised as he climbs on top of you, cuddling you close. "Hey there," you smile as he nuzzles his face in your neck. The simple act of feeling his weight on top of you, his golden skin pressing against yours, makes you feel so safe and grounded it's ridiculous. 

"Missed you," Minho whispers against your skin. 

"I missed you too, darling," you tell him and watch Chan getting comfortable on the sofa behind Minho, gently pushing your legs apart to scoot closer. 

Chan fondles Minho's back for a moment before grabbing his hips and pulling him onto his knees. "Ready?" he asks, and Minho hums, agreeing, burying himself deeper into your neck as his bum is on full display for Chan. Chan locks eyes with you and smirks. "Our dear boy felt a little embarrassed because of the sounds he makes when I stretch him out," Chan explains, and a smile creeps on your face. "I thought cuddling you might help." 

"Aw, really, Minnie?" you ask softly, and Minho nods, squirming a little in your arms. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, love," you soothe him as Chan spreads his cheeks with his fingers. "Let us hear how good you feel; I bet you sound incredibly sweet." 

"I'm not sweet," he mutters playfully offended, grip on your hip tightening in surprise as Chan licks up between his cheeks. A soft whine falls from his lips, proving your point. 

Minho's face grows hot against your skin as Chan eats him out skillfully, hands kneading his thighs and bum. His warm breath tickles your skin, and his hand gropes your hips and thighs, trying to steady himself. Beautiful tiny moans, whimpers, and whines, growing in volume and pitch, now fall freely from his lips. He's pushing back to meet Chan's tongue and grows desperate in his movements. Chan eases two fingers inside and brushes them against his prostate. Minho collapses on you with a broken moan and starts fucking himself on Chan's fingers, dragging his dick through your folds and against your clit as he does. "Hyungie," he whines, and you fondle his hair, eyes fluttering with every drag of his hips. You kiss his head and moan softly as he starts intentionally grinding down against you. “God, Y/N.” 

Chan lets him for now, kissing up his back, and soon has four fingers buried deep inside. He can tell Minho is getting close by how his body arches into his touch and his moans grow higher pitched. He suddenly pulls out, and Minho cries out his name in utter despair. "Shh, bunny, you can't cum yet, okay?" 

"Why?" he asks, sounding heartbroken. 

Chan gently rubs his sides and smiles down at him fondly. "Because you wanted to stuff our pretty girl with your cum, didn't you?" Minho moans weakly and nods face still buried in your neck. "Good, now switch positions with Y/N." 

Minho falls into the cushions heavily, staring up at the two of you with his tired, soft brown eyes. He looks adorably handsome like this, and you can't stop the moan tumbling from your lips as Chan pulls you flush against his body. "Fuck, Channie hyung, you're gonna…," he trails off as Chan runs his fingers down your folds, collecting your juices, and pushes in. You melt against him with a loud moan, reaching back and tangling your hand in his hair to steady yourself. 

"Patience," he tells Minho and locks eyes with him as he opens you up, thumb caressing your clit. "Such a good girl," he praises you as he soon eases in a third finger, stretching you out perfectly. You whine softly and roll your hips, meeting his fingers needily. 

Minho moans at the sight of you and casually spreads his legs, slowly picking up on Chan's delicious idea. 

Chan kisses his way down your neck, making you whimper his name. "Get a pillow, Minho baby." Minho reaches out for one and lifts his hips, shoving it beneath him. "Good boy," he praises him, and Minho bites his lower lip hard. He pulls his fingers from you and pats your hip, deciding you're ready. "I'll go get the lube, you two behave."

"Yes, sir," you say compliantly. 

"Min," Chan says firmly, and Minho's head snaps from your dripping pussy up to his face. 

"Yes, hyungie, of course," he promises quickly. 

A few minutes later, you're straddling Minho's lap. His fingers sink into the flesh of your hips as he's buried fully inside you, lips parting with a soft gasp at your tight heat. His face contorts with pleasure, eyebrows knitted together, and eyes squeezed shut. Chan plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, groaning as he eases himself inside of Minho. A mutual moan escapes them as he's buried deep inside. Chan inhales softly, glancing down at him. "Min?" 

"Mhm?" Minho hums, eyes still squeezed shut as he gets used to the feeling of Chan's dick stretching his hole and you clenching around him at the same time. 

"You're good?" he asks, at the same time fondling your hip. 

"Yeah," Minho nods breathlessly, cheeks flushing red. "Need a moment," he chuckles. 

You bite your lower lip with anticipation as you watch him adjust to the overwhelming feeling. It's enough for you already to have him that deep inside without him moving and Chan right behind you. You can't imagine how good Minho must be feeling now. 

"That's alright, you're in charge," he assures, soothingly fondling his thigh, making his boyfriend hum. 

Minho slowly opens his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Chan has repeatedly told him that he was in charge whenever he fully submitted to him. Chan wouldn't do anything that pushed him over his limits; he'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd stop at any time without getting mad. This has created a net of safety and comfort for Minho early on, allowing him to submit that easily in the first place. He meets Chan's sweet chocolate orbs and feels a warm wave of safety crashing over him, numbing his senses. Then he meets your feverish soft eyes and feels so fond of you his heart might burst. "Okay," he breathes out. 

"Baby girl?" he asks softly, and you hum in response. "You can start moving slowly." 

"Thank you," you breathe out, relieved, and lift your hips before sinking back down on him. Minho beneath you sighs and fondles up your thighs shakily. You moan sweetly at the very needed friction and brace yourself on Minho's chest. 

Chan lets you find your rhythm for a bit before gently rubbing Minho's thigh. "Tell me if it's too much," he says, and Minho nods, whimpering with pure need as Chan braces himself on the sofa and pulls back, only to thrust back into him slowly. He matches your pace, pulling out whenever you sink down on Minho and pushing back inside when you lift your hips. "That's okay?" 

"Very okay," Minho breathes out, eyes fluttering. "Feels good," he adds after a moment, a soft whimper lacing his voice. 

Chan taps your hips, signaling you to speed up a little, and once again adjusts to your rhythm. "How's the view, bunny?" he asks, lovingly cupping your breast.

Minho chokes on his next moan and grips your thighs tightly. "So pretty, Y/nnie," he tells you. "Wanted to fuck you so bad, missed that gorgeous - god fuck - pussy so bad," he rambles, making you shiver at the raw lust coating his orbs. 

You moan softly and meet his hips. "Yeah? You've only had it for such a short time but can't get enough of it, do ya?" 

Chan eyes you curiously as you seem to switch a little, growing more dominant with Minho. His boyfriend stares at you with wide eyes, seemingly incredibly turned on by you doing so. 

"What did you miss more? That pussy or your hyung's dick stuffing you until you're dumb?" you ask, and Minho swallows softly, wincing as you grab his chin. 

"Don't make me choose," he pleads softly, and Chan didn't think he'd see him do that with anyone else but him. 

"What if you had to?" you ask, enjoying this little game. 

Minho's eyes dart back and forth between you and Chan, growing confused, and suddenly, he looks almost anxious. "I don't know," he whimpers, eyes brimming with tears. "I don't wanna choose just one, wanna have you both." 

"Fucks sake," Chan groans deliciously, burying his face in your shoulder as his hips buck forward. 

You smile fondly and brush back his hair. "That's why you're such a good baby boy," you praise him, and Minho whimpers in response, lower lip trembling. 

"Yeah?" he asks timidly. 

"Yes, gorgeous," you smile at him and pat his chest. "Such a good baby." 

Chan rubs his thigh and flashes him a smile. "You're doing so well, such a good little bunny for us," he tells him. 

Minho seems to melt beneath you, blushing heavily at your combined praises. He throws his head back as the two of you pick up pace once more. His jaw grows slack as you seem to punch out whiny, shaky moans from him. He doesn't hold back anymore, falling apart with every roll of your hips, with every thrust Chan delivers. Minho feels heavenly, and the combined pleasure is almost a little too much. He feels himself starting to slip away and reaches out for Chan with one hand weakly. "Channie, hyungie," he whispers. 

Chan intertwines their hands and searches his face observantly. "I'm here, you can let go," he assures him, and Minho moans sweetly. 

Minho's face relaxes, a lazy smile spreading across his lips and his head slowly drops to the side. His hand relaxes in Chan's but stays there, his other drops from your thigh onto the sofa. 

"What's happening?" you ask quietly, stopping your movement and frowning when Minho whimpers in protest. 

"Keep going, baby girl," Chan tells you, soothingly fondling Minho's hand. "Subspace. Happens sometimes." 

"Oh," you nod gently and pick up your previous pace, bouncing on him. 

"I'll know when something's wrong, but practically all he wants is for you to keep using him the way you did before," he tells you between pants before speaking up again. "Min, you're okay?" he asks, and Minho needs a moment before reacting to his voice and squeezing his hand. 

Minho feels like he's floating, heart bursting with joy to be used by Chan and you. His needy moans turn into tiny, weak whimpers, and Chan's hand feels heavy in his. He can hear your voices through a heavy fog, feeling safe as you two talk to him. 

Your stomach tightens at the sight of Minho being so fucked out he can't respond besides squeezing Chan's hand. "I'm so close," you tell Chan. 

"Cum whenever you're ready, beautiful," Chan encourages you, chasing his own high. 

You desperately roll your hips and reach down, toying with your clit to give yourself that last push. Chan gently encourages you, guiding you through it as you cum with a loud groan of their names. Minho beneath you whines as you clench around him repeatedly, shaking on top of him. "Fuck, Chan," you whisper once you start to get overstimulated, and Minho's eyes fill with tears. 

"Kiss his neck for me, baby girl, let's help him out," he says soothingly. 

You lie down on Minho, still keeping him inside, and gently litter his skin with kisses that have him humming appreciatively. The force of Chan's thrusts and Minho's weak attempts to push back make you bounce on his dick, moaning against his neck. Chan behind you grows quiet, his once-controlled pace gets messy, and you can tell he's close. "Come on, Channie hyung," you moan out softly. "Let go." 

Chan spills into Minho with a long, loud groan, slamming his hips inside of him roughly. "Fuck, yeah," he growls, and Minho suddenly tenses up, tears slipping from his eyes as his face scrunches up in pleasure. 

A loud sob ripples through him, and you can feel him coating your walls. Continuous weak little moans leave him as you two help him through it, and he can do nothing but enjoy the pleasure coursing through his body. 

Chan pulls out very carefully, and Minho whimpers at the loss. He lifts you off his dick, and that's when Minho reacts.

"Hyung, no, please," he cries, grabbing your arm. "Don't go." 

Chan soothingly rubs his side. "We're here, baby, you're okay."

You get comfortable on his left and Chan on his right. You both cuddle him close, soothingly fondling his hair and body, whispering sweet nothings to him. "You're so pretty, darling," you whisper. 

"You did such a good job, Minho baby," Chan adds, and Minho closes his eyes, cuddling into the two of you. Chan seems to know exactly how to coax him back out, and you do your best to support him. Once he's sure Minho's alright, he exchanges a glance with you. "We should go and clean up," he says, and you nod tiredly. 

Chan prepares the bathtub for the three of you and carries you there first, helping you into the warm water. He kisses your forehead and smiles fondly. "I'll go get Min." 

"Okay," you smile softly. 

He gently lowers Minho into the water with you before getting in himself. He pulls Minho into his lap, who cuddles up against him tiredly. You cuddle into Chan’s left side, resting your head on his chest next to Minho’s. Minho’s hand finds yours in the warm water, easing your bodies. For a while, you all simply relax in silence before Chan and you help Minho washing his hair and body for him. Chan then does the same for you, and you’re ready to sleep once he’s done. You’re amazed at how quickly Chan has the two of you in bed, comfortably dressed and hair dried. Minho clings to you as Chan leaves you to finish up himself, and you lazily fondle his hair.

Chan smiles softly at the sight of you two, all cuddled up and waiting for him. His curls are still damp from rushing a little to take care of you as soon as possible. As soon as he climbs into bed, the two of you are clinging to him, having him chuckle, and his heart swell with pride. He kisses both your heads and whispers to you how much he loves you, telling you to sleep. Neither Min nor you need a second invitation, dozing off quickly, trusting Chan to keep you safe in your sleep.

PART FOUR

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @silentreadersthings @cassidymb121 @liknws @mumusreblogs @seukijeuxq @strawberry31 @aalexyuuuhm @sundownimup-1 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @aaasia111 @xxstrayland @galaxycatdrawz @0325tiny

[morning-star-joy]

with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con

a stranger's heart without a home chapter 20

Pairing: friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: The holidays arrive in Jackson, and you cherish your time spent with your loved ones.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Explicit Smut (18+ Only MDNI) unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praise kink. Mutual Pining (resolved), Language (fucking is an adjective).

A/N: I won't make this too long, but holy fucking shit you guys. It's here. We did it. There's still the epilogue left, and many more stories to be told from this one, but thank you guys so much for all the love you've shown to this fic that I hold so dear.

Wordcount: 13.6k

chapter 1 || chapter 19 || chapter 20 || masterlist

ao3 link

You were, for all intents and purposes, fucked.

Fucked in quite the literal sense of the word, hardly spending a night where you weren’t in Joel’s bed, or he in yours.

Fucked in the way that you woke up each morning completely wrapped up in him, not knowing a part of yourselves that wasn’t intertwined, or an inch of your soul that wasn’t now marked by him.

Fucked in how the first thing he would do when he woke up would be to turn over, breaking your hold on him from behind to smile lazily at you, brighter than the sunlight that filtered through the windows to dance across his face.

Slowly, you came to know each line etched on his face, each wrinkle and scar as your eyes traced them every morning. Old and weathered, tired and weary, but so achingly familiar to you now that you couldn’t imagine waking up without it.

But you think your favorite thing to do, the thing that fucked you the most, was faking sleep just so you could count his breaths until he awoke. Focusing on keeping your eyes closed, your own breathing deep and even, you would pretend to be unaware of Joel’s fingers as they lightly traced your own face, memorizing you the same way you did him when he thought you weren’t aware.

It was always a gentle, featherlight touch. Hardly even there, but you felt it.

You knew. 

And it made you ache so deeply, so completely, your heart racing underneath your bare skin as he caressed your cheek before pulling his hand away from you. You would listen to the sheets shift as he turned onto his back and waited for you to open your eyes.

When you did eventually open your eyes, faking a yawn before focusing on the side of his hardened, devastatingly handsome face with a smile, and he would smile back at you with just a glint of something knowing in his eyes, you wondered if he had actually been in on this little secret of yours all along.

Yeah, completely fucked.

One morning, you really did wake up after him, stretching your limbs across the bed, legs bumping against his as you rolled over onto your other side. At your motion, you heard the mattress shift behind you before you felt Joel’s hands slide up your curves and around your waist, pulling you back into him at the same moment his face buried into your neck.

You hummed, feeling your body wake up to him before your mind did, pressing your ass back into where you could feel his hardening dick poking against your thighs.

That hum quickly turned into a light, breathless moan as Joel’s thick fingers spread across your stomach, inching lower and lower until they were gliding across your folds, taking his time caressing you gently, teasing you with each pass over your clit until you were squirming, begging him for more in a delirious half-asleep state.

Only then did his thumb find your clit, rubbing slow, steady circles across it until you were shaking from the gentle warmth of an orgasm he coaxed out of you when his fingers slipped into you. That climax was followed by another, and another, as Joel continued to simply revere in the moment, leisurely dissolving you into a mewling, moaning mess in a way that only he knew how.

You were so fucked out, mouth agape with pleasure as you panted against the pillow, that the familiar stretch of his cock sliding into you pulled a broken, strangled cry from your throat.

Joel stopped instantly, hand spreading across your stomach in a gentle manner that assured you of his warmth, his comfort, as his mouth found your ear from where he was still pressed to you from behind.

“You okay?” he whispered, and you shivered at the intimacy, biting your lip as you grabbed the pillow. “Do you—”

“Gimme—” you gasped, eyes rolling back into your head as you fell back into him, melting into his embrace as you adjusted to the feeling of him partially inside of you, giving a nod once you were ready and aching for more. “Good. I’m good.”

Joel still took another moment, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on a sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shivered as the action sent butterflies racing through your stomach. You didn’t have a moment to ponder on those feelings he always managed to stir from you, more and more lately, as he slid the rest of the way in until his cock was fully seated inside of you.

You bit your lip harder, forcing yourself to keep quiet so you could hear every catch of his breath, every quiet moan and toe-curling whimper that left his lips as he began to fuck into you. His thrusts were slow, lazy, just enjoying the feeling of being inside you first thing in the morning. 

Joel’s forehead pressed to your shoulder as he began to groan and whimper louder, unabashed, too lost in the heady atmosphere of the early morning coupled with the feeling of your cunt surrounding him, warming and fulfilling him in the best way.

When words began to pour from his lips, they finally drew sounds from you, your own whining and whimpering as you began to roll your hips back against him, ready for another orgasm. At your movement, Joel’s hand on your stomach that was holding you steady snaked back down between your thighs, playing with your clit as your head tipped back and you gasped from the build of another orgasm, having lost count of how many he had given you that morning.

“Fuck, I wish I could fill you up,” were the nearly incoherent words that came tumbling from his lips, and you moaned, loud and desperate, moving faster to meet both his thrusts from behind you and his fingers in front of you, trapped between him in the best possible way, as he quickly tugged you forward to dangle over the edge of ecstasy. “You’d look so good full of me.”

Joel continued to pant and groan, his face pressed against the side of yours, breath warming your cheek as you reached behind you to grab his hair, keeping him there as the sentiment he had never dared to speak aloud shot straight to your throbbing clit underneath his fingers. “I wanna see my cum dripping from your pussy and down your legs, wanna see you—Jesus. ”

“Please.”

The word slipped from your lips before you could even think better of it. Still lost in the state between carnal pleasure and being asleep, helpless to the peaks of ecstasy he kept delivering to you, you began to beg for the very thing you both knew you could never do. 

He whispered your name then—a plea, a warning.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, feeling his hips stuttering, knowing what was about to happen and oh god, oh fuck, somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t but it would feel so good, so fucking good to have his cum filling you up and oh Jesus you were about to cum again, you were—

He stopped.

“We—” he gasped, and the feeling of him still hard inside of you with no additional warmth served as a sign that he hadn’t released yet. 

You were nearly crying now, both from the intense pleasure and from him stopping, even as you knew he had done the right thing, so you could both gather yourselves enough to slip out of the delicious sleepy haze you were in and not fuck yourselves over—quite literally. 

“We can’t,” Joel whispered, lips brushing against your cheek in what was almost a chaste kiss if it wasn’t open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of sweat on your skin. He rested his lips there and murmured against your skin, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than to you, “We can’t.”

“I know,” you panted, fingers tangling in his curls, keeping his face pressed to your cheek as you repeated yourself the same way he just did. “I know.”

Joel found enough self-control then to fuck you just enough so you could cum again—more, just give me one more, mi luna—before he pulled out of you, and you listened to the sounds of his grunting from where his face was still pressed to the side of yours, his facial hair scraping pleasantly against your skin, feeling the warmth of his cum as it coated your back when he finally found release.

You didn’t acknowledge the fleeting desire for him to cum inside you—a longing you had both felt—after that other than a breathless joke from you as he finally lifted his head, “Fuck the lack of contraceptives in the apocalypse.”

The words earned a quiet, shaky laugh from Joel before he found enough strength to push himself from the bed so he could get ready for your aftercare. 

And that was that. Just another easy, warm morning that you were getting far too used to.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that now that you had found a spot in his bed, you would never leave.

Outside of the comfort of your lazy early mornings in bed with Joel, December arrived in Jackson, bringing the deep chill of winter right to your doorstep.

Just a year ago, you had nearly despised this time of year. The holidays were a reminder of how much you had suffered, bringing to the front of your mind the indescribable grief of everything you had lost in life.

Now you could walk the streets without hating the sense of cheer you felt lingering around every corner. You would watch the children spinning and playing in the first snowfall of the season with a fond smile, cherishing the memories they brought to mind of those days when you and your sister would build small snowmen in the Seattle QZ.

Surely they were destroyed by FEDRA soldiers on patrol when the next morning rolled around. But you had been content to create something, to leave your tiny mark on the world with her. Even if its existence was only for a small moment, just one blink of finite happiness in infinite time.

It also seemed that you were content to create more small moments of happiness this winter.

Inside the warmth and safety of your best friend’s home one afternoon, you were blinking at him in surprise, no small amount of skepticism in your voice as you repeated what he had just told you.

“A Secret Santa party?”

“Yup!” Tommy grinned, giving a nod to emphasize his confirmation as he leaned back on the couch next to you.

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, rubbing your hands down over your face, though your words were more teasing than truly exasperated as you asked, “Why are you so obsessed with these parties?”

“Besides the fact that they’re fun? Sorry if you’ve never heard of it,” he teased you right back, leaning over to gently nudge you in the shoulder with his own. “Actually, the holiday party was Maria’s idea.”

“But the Secret Santa part was yours,” you replied simply, not needing to hear it from him to know that it was the truth.

Still, you dropped your hands from your face to look at his own, satisfied by how you could see that you were right, just judging by the proud grin that brightened up his whole face as he talked of the idea.

“So why am I here, then?” you asked with a sigh, arching an inquisitive brow as your eyes narrowed at him in playful suspicion. “You are not having it at my house.”

Tommy waved off the little bit of concern that was hidden in your joke, and you relaxed only minutely before he reached over the armrest of the sofa and grabbed something off the ground before holding it out towards you.

You stared down at the hat filled with tiny scraps of paper with a gentle scoff before asking, “Damn, Tommy, how many people are you even inviting to this thing?”

“Not too many,” he answered with a shrug, holding out the hat further, trying to tempt you to take one and find out who you were getting a gift for at this party. “Patrolmen, mainly. The teens. A few other people.”

“Then why are there so many—”

“Just grab one!” he interrupted you, shaking the papers around in the hat before nearly shoving it in your face, and you gave an over-exaggerated groan before snatching one.

You fell silent then, staring down at the name written on the small scrap after you unfolded it, your heart racing just at the familiar shape of the letters before you narrowed your eyes up at your friend.

His lips were twitching, a telltale sign he was holding back a smile as his eyes glimmered with a well known mirth, and you lifted a finger to point at him accusingly.

“Do all of these fucking little papers of yours say Joel?”

“Oh, you got Joel?” Tommy brightened as that grin finally broke through onto his face, and you glared at him as you tried to grab for the hat to see if your theory was correct right as he pulled it out of your reach. “No, you don’t! You’ll ruin the holiday magic!”

“Fuck your holiday magic, asshole!” you snapped, still trying to grab the hat as he continued to hold it out of your reach, but it didn’t take long for your laughter to join his cheerful chuckling, even as you added, “You tricked me!”

But you couldn’t stop laughing now, even as you began to wonder just what you had allowed your closest friend to get you into this time.

It was a question you continued to think about later that night, curled up under your blankets as you tried to warm yourself up from the chilly air inside your home at this time of year.

Head against the pillow, you ran through ideas of what to get Joel for a gift, all while also trying not to wonder why he had been so late coming over every night the past week. You were startled to realize that you had almost forgotten what it was like not to see his face as not only the last thing before you fell asleep, but also the first thing when you woke up.

Trying to fall asleep alone now felt like a lost cause, and you only relaxed when you heard the sound of your back door creaking open from down the hallway. Shifting slightly, you listened with growing anticipation to the footsteps echoing through your kitchen, down the hall and towards your open bedroom door.

Hiding a smile against your pillowcase, the confusing stirring of emotions in your chest began to calm when you felt the bed dip underneath his weight, listening to the sound of him pulling his boots off to fall onto the floor, followed by the rustling of his clothes before Joel slipped under the sheets beside you.

You gave it a few moments, letting him settle before you turned over, inching closer to him in a pretend haze of sleep. When you were close enough to feel his body heat radiating towards you, you couldn’t resist taking it one step further, wrapping your arm around his torso as your cheek pressed against his back.

Just because it’s cold, you continued to blatantly lie to yourself, just like you did every time you found yourself wrapping your arms around him when you were in bed like this. He’s warm, and it’s cold. That’s it.

When Joel’s hand found yours from where it had subconsciously rested against the scars on his abdomen, his fingers intertwined with yours sending your heart racing and chest aching, your entire body shivering at the quiet intimacy of the action, you knew that it had fucking nothing to do with the cold.

“Warm,” you found yourself mumbling anyway, curling yourself around him even more, legs tangling with his as you sighed softly, a sound that was followed by his own quiet hum while you continued to ramble, “You’re warm.”

“You’re fucking cold,” Joel muttered, and you laughed softly, listening with fondness as his own quiet chuckle echoed your amusement.

“And whose fault is that?”

The teasing words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and you froze up from uncertainty at the sentiment, self-conscious that you had let him know that you had been missing him.

Because, fuck, you had been missing him.

Hardly even a few weeks since you had truly started sharing your bed with him, and just a few days without him in it left you aching to see him again. Aching for him.

Joel shifted in your arms, turning over to face you, and you kept your face stubbornly turned away from him, even as your heart skipped a beat feeling him so close to you now.

“Should I fix that?” he murmured in a low, husky tone that only meant one thing, and you shivered for an entirely different reason than the winter chill as his arms looped around you.

One of his hands slipped under your oversized shirt you wore for sleep, sliding up your back to pull your body against his. You couldn’t resist a quiet moan just from the feeling of him pressed to you, soaking in his warmth as he rolled you over onto your back.

God, the feeling of Joel’s solid weight on top of you was always fucking delicious, and you were helpless but to melt into him as he began to kiss down your neck, his lips followed by gentle nips of teeth and his tongue darting out to soothe whatever marks he was leaving on your skin.

“People will see,” you tried to protest, even though you found yourself hardly caring in that moment when he shifted his hips, pressing his hardening erection right against your clothed cunt.

“Let them,” he whispered into your ear, and you whimpered, fingers sliding up his neck to tangle in his hair, giving it a tug just to hear that grunt of desire from him that never failed to make your panties damp with your own desire.

It didn’t take long before you were both naked, limbs completely tangled, wrapped up in each other as Joel took his sweet time fucking you that night. His hands never stopped caressing you, and you didn’t stop touching him either, fingers dancing across every inch of his skin, revering in his warmth as he thrusted into you, so slowly that it was almost lazy.

“God, so fucking hot,” Joel grunted into your ear, thumbs pressing to your inner thighs as he gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued to fuck you languidly, almost sensually. “You feel so hot around me, darlin’. So tight and wet. Never gonna get tired of being inside you. Fuck.”

“Faster,” you begged as the slow, dwindling build of pleasure became too much, desperate for a release as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, and Joel groaned as he assented to your request without a second thought.

Your gasps joined the sound of skin slapping against skin, filling the air that was quickly heating up around you. You grabbed Joel's back, nails digging into his skin, and he moaned, forehead falling against your pillow next to your head, his panting right next to your ear making your clit throb.

“Need your fingers, Joel, I need—”

The words tumbling from your mouth quickly turned into a cry of pleasure as Joel lifted his hips just enough to snake one hand in between you, rubbing his thumb over your clit so quickly that your thighs began to shake, back arching up into his body as it only took a few more minutes before you were moaning his name over and over through an orgasm.

It seemed he couldn’t hold on long afterwards as he was soon moaning your own name, his lips pressed to your ear when he pulled out, pumping his cock as his hot cum landed on your lower stomach and trembling thighs.

You shivered at the sound of your name leaving his lips in the heights of pleasure, fingers still tangled in his hair as he struggled to hold himself above you, both your chests heaving in pants from the exertion.

“Warm now?” Joel asked, bumping his nose against your cheek, and you laughed breathlessly, but for an entirely different reason than from the sex as the action sent butterflies you had only ever felt around him fluttering through your stomach once again.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving a lazy nod and a quiet sigh of relief from how truly warm you felt all over, physically and emotionally, sinking back into the mattress as he finally slipped out of bed to get ready for your aftercare. 

After he was done cleaning you up, and he climbed back into bed, you found yourself in the rare circumstance where Joel was the big spoon, his arms circling around your waist as his face buried in your neck.

It was borderline affectionate, and those goddamn butterflies started up in your stomach again, eyelids growing heavy with the overwhelming comfort of Joel completely surrounding you, holding you securely in his arms before you heard him say something.

“Hm?” you hummed, blinking a few times to try and wake yourself back up.

Joel chuckled quietly, his nose pressing underneath your jaw as he repeated himself, “You never told me about your secret hobbies.”

A surprised laugh left you, eyes still shut from relaxation, but not as tired as before as you considered the words. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, still rubbing the slope of that strong, handsome nose along the edge of your jawline, and you sighed quietly, happily. “I just want to know you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a breath stuttering from your lungs in the same moment your eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake at the vulnerable sentiment because, fuck.

You had known for a while that you wanted Joel to know you, all of you, but the fact that he wanted to know you in that way too…

Swallowing thickly, you didn’t even think twice before whispering, “Photography.”

Joel paused in his gentle ministrations of nuzzling his face against your skin, stilling for a moment before replying softly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks heat as you once again found yourself sharing a fact about yourself with Joel that nobody else knew. “Back in Seattle, I had an instant camera. God, I spent so much time just searching for film for that thing.”

“I haven’t noticed your photos,” he said quietly, the first time he had remarked on how empty your home was in terms of decorations, and you frowned.

“There wasn’t room to take much with us when we joined the Fireflies,” you whispered, and Joel’s arms tightened around your waist, holding you closer at the mention of the rebel group. “I only took a couple things with me. Things that wouldn’t take up much space.”

Joel hummed, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the rumble of the gentle sound from where his chest was pressed to your back. 

Sighing softly, you allowed sleep to begin to creep up on you once more, hardly hearing as Joel asked another question, “Would you ever go back?”

“To Seattle?” you mumbled, yawning before you buried your face deeper into your pillow, breaths evening out even as you managed to reply, “Don’t need to. Got everything I need here.”

If Joel said anything else after that, you were already asleep before you could hear it.

You stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, feeling as guilty as a sinner in a house of worship.

Because, well, you currently were a sinner in a house of worship.

Most times, you tended to avoid the church in Jackson—in fact, the only time you could really remember actually spending time in the large room was for the Halloween dance.

But you weren’t standing here now, surrounded by prayers of the faithful being whispered to higher powers, for yourself.

Even though she had asked you to go with her, you didn’t want to intrude on Dina’s moment of peaceful remembrance. You didn’t know the first thing about any religion, so you found yourself hovering a distance away as she sat with her head bowed, hoping that your presence offered some kind of comfort to her, since she had wanted you to be there.

“It’s Hanukkah,” she had told you when she showed up on your doorstep, shifting awkwardly and avoiding your gaze as if she expected you to ever be able to say no to her. “My sister used to drag me out to a synagogue for it so, I don’t know…I wanted to say some prayers.”

The mention of her sister that she had lost made you soften instantly, and you took less than a minute to lace up your shoes and grab your scarf before you were out the door and following her to the church.

You knew that you weren’t a replacement for Dina’s older sister, just like she wasn’t a replacement for your younger sister. But there was still that rare feeling of peace whenever the young girl was at your side, a sense of belonging from the purpose that you could protect her from harm and make her happy in any way you could.

When Dina looked up and met your gaze now, giving you that bright smile that could light up any room she entered, you knew that although she wasn’t the sister you had lost, she was another one that you had gained.

“I said a prayer for your sister,” Dina said quietly when you exited the church, the brisk winter breeze brushing past you and making the two of you huddle closer together while you walked the streets. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You softened immediately, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to tug her into your side. Placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, you squeezed her shoulder as you whispered, “Of course I don’t mind, Dina. Thank you for doing that.”

She smiled up at you again, the living and breathing personification of the sun that eluded the world this time of year, and you smiled back down at her with a laugh as she playfully shoved you away at your rare show of affection.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed dramatically, stretching her arms over her head and punching your shoulder gently before pointing in the direction of her favorite spot for lunch, and you led the way, not even knowing that Dina would gladly follow you anywhere you went.

Then you were standing at the edge of a room again, feeling out of place in one of your safest spaces as attendees of Maria’s holiday (and begrudgingly Tommy’s Secret Santa) party filtered through the door and down the hallways of the home.

Soft music drifted through the house from a record player you recognized as Joel’s set up in the corner of the living room, even as the man was nowhere to be seen.

You really, really tried to stop looking for him, but you just couldn’t stop your head from whipping around in the direction of the front door whenever it opened, only for your shoulders to sink, completely deflating from the anticipation of seeing him every time somebody who wasn’t him walked by.

Taking another sip from the drink you had already refilled twice in your hands, you gently tugged mindlessly at one of the earrings dangling from your ears, not used to the feeling of wearing any sort of jewelry.

But it had been a gift from Maria before the party, along with the dress you now wore as you loitered on the outskirts of the jovial gathering.

“You looked gorgeous in red,” she had said kindly when you opened up the box, staring down at the smooth velvet fabric of the simple, yet elegant burgundy dress with wide eyes. “And I wanted to dress up, so you have to do it with me.”

This dress was considerably more comfortable than the one you wore to the Halloween party, and you were much fonder of how it hugged your curves without leaving little to the imagination in length and tightness. The fabric flowed down to your mid-calf, and you enjoyed the way the soft fabric felt swishing against your legs whenever you turned towards the front door as soon as you heard it opening.

When another person who was very much not Joel walked in, you began to hate the way you deflated each time, instead moving along the outskirts of the living room towards the kitchen, but not without fondly tapping your fingers against the surface of the fireplace mantle in front of the family memorial, as if to say a quick hello to your departed loved ones as you passed.

In the kitchen, you were surprised to find Dina and Ellie huddled together with…Tommy?

“And what’s going on here?” you drawled, watching with curiosity as the three jumped, all turning towards you in the same instant with faces that screamed they had just been caught red-handed.

“Nothing!”

“Cookies!”

“Existential crisis.”

You looked from one face to the next as they all shouted out answers at the same time, Tommy to Dina to eventually Ellie. You rose a brow at the latter’s cheeky response that brought a smile to your face, amused by the mischief in the girl’s eyes, shining brightly while the other two tried to hide whatever they had been scheming.

“Uh-huh,” you said slowly, giving a nod as you moved forward to grab a cookie from a plate. Slightly burnt around the edges, no doubt a sign of one of Jesse’s masterpieces as he tried to help Dina bake once again. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“You’re forgiven!” Dina and Ellie chirped at the same time before shuffling past you, and you didn’t miss the way Dina kept her body facing you the entire time she passed you, her hands fixed behind her back before she turned quickly and scuttled out of the room, giggling with her friend.

Turning back to Tommy, you arched an eyebrow, glancing over his grin with a quiet groan.

“The fuck are you planning?”

Tommy gave a quiet mock gasp, a sign he had probably spent too long with Dina, concocting up whatever dastardly plan you were starting to suspect they had—and if the two of them were teamed up, you were most likely the target of whatever it was they hoped to achieve.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Tommy teased as he walked past you, picking up a cookie himself to raise it towards you in some kind of salute before taking a bite out of it and heading out of the kitchen, and you groaned again, louder this time with a roll of your eyes.

Those people, your chosen family that you loved so much, would surely end up being the death of you one day.

Snow crunched under Joel’s boots as he hurried down the street towards Tommy’s house, holding the poorly wrapped gift tightly in both his hands and cursing under his breath at how late he was.

He had wanted to put the finishing touches on it, telling Ellie that he would be right behind her when she poked her head into his workshop and told him that she was heading out to the party. She had shot him a look that he pointedly ignored as he continued to work, listening to her sigh before heading back down the stairs and out the door.

Without somebody to keep him in check, though, he had completely lost track of time, and ended up wrapping up the present pretty fucking terribly before rushing to his brother’s doorstep. His cheeks were completely flushed from the cold, the exertion from running, and perhaps a bit of apprehension for the reaction of the recipient of the gift when they opened it.

Tommy had simply patted a fond hand on Joel’s shoulder when he opened the door, giving a wide smile before ushering the older man into the house, hardly giving him a moment to take off his jacket and hang it up before he was ushered into the living room.

There were a few hellos exchanged with the patrolmen he tolerated the most before Tommy tried to tug the gift out of Joel’s hands, and he quickly pulled it back, holding it close to his chest as he murmured, “No, I got it.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, lifting his hands in surrender as he took a step back before gesturing towards a table in the corner where the various presents had been piled for the party.

“By all means, be my guest,” Tommy said with a sly smirk that made Joel’s eye twitch.

Shaking his head to himself, Joel walked over to the table, gently pushing a few of the other gifts to the side to ensure there was not only enough room for the one he had brought, but making sure that there was no way for it to get damaged in some kind of freak accident.

When Joel stepped back towards the wall of the room, his eyes were already moving through the small gathered crowd, anxiously rubbing his thumb over the old punching scars on his knuckles as he searched for the person he both longed and dreaded to see tonight.

At a flash of that familiar hair color, Joel shifted forward, already carefully making his way through the crowd with murmured apologies to whoever he was pushing past as he was helpless to do anything but make a beeline straight towards her.

Because, Jesus Christ.

She was beautiful.

It was only the second time he had seen her wear a dress, but Joel realized somewhere in his subconscious he hoped it wasn’t the last as he glanced over her, just taking her in as she talked to Maria in the dining room.

There was one of those small, rare smiles on her face, a show of fondness for her select few people as she talked to the other woman. And then she laughed and, fuck, he could recognize that sound in his sleep by now, but he would never get tired of hearing it.

Joel was drawn to it, drawn to her, like she was a force of gravity that he was helpless to fall into, unable to resist it even if he tried.

But he didn't want to try.

He didn’t want to resist anymore.

In fact, he thinks he gave up resisting long, long ago.

Joel wanted her, all of her, and with the way she had been opening up to him lately, holding him and allowing him to hold her in ways they never had before—God, he was starting to dare to hope that it may just be possible.

Then her head turned slightly, her eyes meeting his in the middle of a laugh, and the sound faded as he got trapped in her gaze. 

Even with the absence of her laughter, there was still that hint of mirth in her eyes, an amusement that shifted in something warmer, something fonder as they looked at each other, and Joel couldn’t stop himself in his path straight towards her now.

He murmured a hello, and she said it right back, lips turned up in what was half a trademark smirk, half a smile that made his heart race as his eyes traced the curve of her mouth before looking back up at her eyes.

It was impossible to miss the faint flush to her cheeks on the way to meeting her gaze, though, and Joel fought back a smile that was twitching onto his lips, one that quickly fell when he heard a throat clearing right beside them.

“Joel,” Maria greeted, arching an eyebrow at him, and Joel immediately straightened, giving her a nod of respect.

“Maria,” he returned the simple acknowledgement, watching as his sister-in-law shot a smirk towards the woman Joel’s gaze was quickly drawn back towards before moving away to find her husband.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he was left alone with the very woman who had consumed all his thoughts and affection, watching as her gaze darted from him towards the drink in her hands, her head bowed in a way that was almost shy and so incredibly endearing to see on such a confident woman.

And the thought that he may have been the one to elicit such a bashful reaction, just from his presence alone?

Joel rose a hand to rub nervously over the growing beard on his chin, his own eyes averting from hers as he found himself mumbling, “Uh, you look—”

“Awkward?”

He glanced over at her in surprise, brows furrowing as he saw her eyes waver even with her face turned slightly away from him, shifting almost uncomfortably in her heels, and Joel automatically moved a few steps closer to her, finding a place by her side as his hand rose to subtly, gently graze his fingertips over her back.

The velvet fabric of the dress was soft under his touch, and he hummed, giving in to temptation and pressing his palm gently against the small of her back for just the briefest of moments as he dipped his head down to murmur next to her ear, “Beautiful.”

She froze up momentarily under his touch at the simple word, and Joel immediately pulled back, uncertainty and embarrassment flooding him in equal turns as he leaned back.

“Too much?” he asked quietly, eyes searching hers almost anxiously when she lifted her head to meet his gaze at the earnest question.

But then his breath was stolen from his lungs as he saw she was looking at him with nothing but open honesty, and there was no hint of rejection hidden anywhere in it, only a half-lidded longing that made Joel’s pulse quicken to see from her.

Her lips parted, and he looked down to see that same shade of lipstick she had worn before, on her date and at the dance. A thought passed through his mind then, wondering how that lipstick would look smeared across his mouth if he kissed her, again and again, because Lord knew if she allowed him to then he would never be able to stop.

Joel wondered if she could sense the direction of his thoughts as she leaned closer to him, her head tilting back as she caught his gaze once again. That longing in her eyes only deepened as she whispered, voice thick with a heat that didn’t have anything to do with lustful desire, “Not enough.”

His own mouth fell open then, and Joel stared at her, heart nearly pounding out of his chest at the two simple words that threw his entire life out of balance.

Then it was like all of a sudden, the pieces fell right back into place, and everything made so much more sense than ever before.

Her name slipped past his lips, and he watched her eyelashes flutter, the color of those enchanting eyes darker and, God, he was just about ready to give in to overwhelming temptation and claim her mouth with his then and there if it wasn’t for his brother’s voice echoing through the house from the living room.

Joel forced himself to lean back from her, glancing back over his shoulder to listen to Tommy announcing that the gift opening would now commence.

With a sigh, Joel took a step away from her. Then another, gesturing for her to enter the living room ahead of him, even as his hand trembled slightly from the thought of her opening the gift he had spent the last few weeks painstakingly carving until it was perfect.

He only hoped that that wasn’t too much, and dared to also hope even further that tonight just may be the night when he could finally feel how soft her lips were instead of imagining it every time he fell asleep with her arms around him.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for the gift that had your name carefully written on a tag that had been crudely tied to the very poorly wrapped present, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the sight of it.

Given Tommy’s scheming that you now began to realize had Dina and Ellie as accomplices, you had a very strong feeling who had gotten you this gift, and it was impossible to keep a smile from growing on your face as you found a chair on the edge of the room to sit and stare at the gift in your lap.

Raising your head up, you looked across the room for him, but the bulk of the crowd was now filling the living room, all excitedly chatting as they opened their gifts, and Joel was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh, you glanced back down at the gift, wondering if you should wait for him to be present before opening it.

But an impatient voice in your mind urged you on, saying that this was a Secret Santa party. You technically weren’t supposed to know who had given it to you, so you didn’t have to wait for him, right?

Besides, Joel had been right beside you before you walked into the living room. If he had wanted to see you open it, he would have stayed with you.

Somehow, you got the feeling that he may be almost embarrassed by whatever he had gotten you, so you found yourself biting your lip in anticipation as you struggled to pull the wrapping paper off of the box.

Your heart was racing, and you shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you repeated internally that it was just a gift, you were being silly. It didn’t have to mean anything.

But when you lifted the top of the box off, and saw what was inside, you truly lost the ability to form any coherent thoughts for a moment, unable to think anything other than a simple: oh.

Fingers trembling, you reached down into the box to pull out the smaller wooden box inside, glancing over it to try and take it all in, even as your eyes kept drifting back to the design carved on the lid.

Your fingers danced carefully along the ridges of the wood, tracing the moon and the stars in the center, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you sucked in a breath, trying to compose yourself even as you felt tears springing to your eyes.

It was beautiful. Intricately carved, with flowers engraved along the edges, but it was that celestial theme that you kept looking back to, your chest aching for him once again, stronger than ever before as you carefully lifted the lid to the box.

That ache only deepened further, a feeling you had thought impossible, as you saw words carefully carved to the inside of the lid.

You weren’t fluent in Spanish, but you had picked up some words here and there from Tommy, and you recognized estrellita along with the mi luna that Joel had taken up calling you—never too often, but every now and then it would slip past his lips, a quiet endearment when you found yourselves tangled together in bed, usually before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

In the back of your mind, you remembered that first night Joel had called you it, how you had questioned him and he had only told you what luna meant.

What you hadn’t told him was that you already knew what the other word meant—mi.

My.

My moon.

He had called you his.

And, fuck, you were.

You were all his; heart, body and soul. Every part of you was a part of Joel and Jesus Christ, why had you been so dense for so long?

Deep down, you knew why—you had never felt like this for anybody before. It was terrifying, because not only did you hate being so out of your depth, but you were scared of what it meant.

Scared of letting yourself fall into it, into him, so completely, when there could never be a guarantee that one of you wouldn't end up leaving the other someday. 

Not by choice—you knew by now you could never pull yourself away from his side—but by the cruel fucking hands of fate that clutched this sorry, ugly world in its unforgiving talons.

How could you live with yourself if you allowed this, only to lose him?

But with that small, elaborately carved box in your hand, the edges of the words underneath your fingertips—you realized you had already allowed yourself to fall into him.

It had happened so slowly that you hadn’t even known it. But now as you looked up, gaze searching through the crowd until you finally saw him, standing at the edge of the room opposite you, his familiar, comforting dark gaze already focused on you as you admired your gift…

You knew it was much too late to try and convince yourself it hadn’t already happened.

Joel immediately straightened against the other wall as your gaze met his, some look you didn’t recognize passing through his eyes before he turned, slipping away from the gathered group to head farther into the house, and you were already on your feet and moving after him before you could think twice.

Your steps slowed as you neared the kitchen, empty now except for him as you watched him place his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning over it in a way that was almost similar to how he had leaned against the streetlight a year ago, and you were walking forward instantly.

“Hey,” you said softly, and Joel jumped, glancing up from what you realized was the gift you had wrapped up for him, sitting on the counter in front of him, to you.

He stiffened, pushing himself off the counter to glance over you, brows furrowed before quickly looking away.

“Uh—” Joel cleared his throat, rubbing a thumb and forefinger across his mustache before nodding over at you. “Howdy.”

You laughed softly, moving to stand next to him as you carefully placed your box on the counter next to his wrapped gift.

“Somebody knows me well,” you said quietly, tapping a finger gently against the top of the box before smiling up at him, letting your fondness for him bleed through your expression, and you heard the audible intake of breath from Joel before he looked away again.

His mouth opened and then closed again, apparently at a loss for words as he shuffled his feet next to you, and your smile grew, overwhelmed with admiration for this man who had somehow completely captured your heart.

You gently nudged his own gift towards him with a finger, tilting your head so you could catch his gaze with another smile, and you watched Joel soften, something that made your smile only grow, butterflies surging through you at the sight of what you could do to such a hardened soul that you cherished so deeply with just one simple look.

“Go on,” you said quietly, tapping your fingers against his gift before pulling your hand back, turning to lean against the counter as you watched him. “Open it.”

Joel glanced over you for another moment before sighing, reaching out to take the box into his hand and unwrap it. It was almost as poorly wrapped as his own, and it took a bit of difficulty for him to get it off—so much so that you had to reach out your own hands to help him yourself, fingers dancing around his as you tried to peel the paper away with laughter bubbling from your throat.

Deeper laughter joined your own, and your eyes met Joel’s, the two of you sharing a smile until the box was finally freed. He looked down at it for a moment before slowly opening it, staring down at the contents for a moment before pulling out what was inside.

He gazed over the mug, falling quiet as his thumb brushed against the depiction of an owl on the side, and you watched anxiously for any expression that revealed his opinion about it, but his face was completely blank.

“Um,” you hedged, shifting awkwardly on your feet, and Joel blinked rapidly, almost as if pulling himself out of a stupor as he looked up to watch you ramble, “It’s just—you know, boring ass mugs and all that. Like, I know you’ve been getting different colored ones, but—ah, shit, I’m fucking bad at this.”

So distracted by your own spiraling, you didn’t notice Joel carefully set the mug back down on the counter, or see his hand as it began to reach for your waist.

“You have a lot of owl carvings,” you continued to stumble and stutter over your words, heart racing in your chest, fidgeting with your hands as you somehow talked a mile a minute without saying anything at all. ���So I saw this one and thought, oh, hey, maybe Joel—”

The instant his name left your lips, his own were upon you, pressed gently but almost desperately to the corner of your mouth, and you gasped.

You were grabbing him before your mind could keep up, head turning to try and catch his lips by reflex, by a deep desire to finally have his mouth on yours, but he evaded your efforts. Instead Joel pressed kisses all along your cheek and up your face, rapidly kissing your forehead before moving back down the other side, reminding you of that first morning you had woken up in his bed.

“Joel,” his name slipped past your lips again in a sigh, nearly begging as he kissed the other side of your mouth. You tried to catch his lips again for a real kiss, but he was moving down, lips caressing the skin under your jaw and down your neck as he pressed you against the counter.

Your leg somehow ended up hooked around his waist as his hands slid down the back of your dress, bunching up the velvet fabric as he hummed against your skin at the soft gasps and quiet moans that left your lips that ached to be on his.

Opening your mouth to beg him to finally close that distance for good, you were quickly interrupted by a cheerful voice echoing through the kitchen, “Where did you two—oh, Jesus Christ, really?”

Joel pulled his mouth away from your neck, glancing over at Tommy standing in the archway of the room at the same moment you did.

You patted at Joel, trying to get him to let you go as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at your best friend catching you wrapped up in his brother’s embrace, but Joel only lowered your leg, adjusting your dress so you were decent without pulling himself away from you completely.

“In my kitchen?” Tommy continued, letting out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his face. “For fuck’s sake, use your own!”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but respond almost on instinct with a mischievous, “Oh, we have.”

“Fucking—” Tommy shook his head, turning sharply on his heel as he left the room, but not without calling back over his shoulder, “Again—horny bastards!”

You laughed, ducking your face to try and hide your blush against Joel’s neck as you listened to the footsteps of your best friend recede.

Even when the two of you were alone again, you remained there a moment, fingers gripping the back of Joel’s flannel, breathing in the comforting scent of earth that wafted from his skin before you pulled back.

“Guess we should head back, huh?” you murmured, glancing over Joel’s face, biting your lip to hold back a smile when you saw his own cheeks were tinged slightly pink in the most endearing blush you had ever seen.

Joel glanced over your own face, reaching a hand up to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek before stepping back with a nod.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, seeming to struggle for a moment before finally tearing his gaze away from you. Picking up his mug, he held it carefully against his chest, returning your nod before mumbling, “Yeah, guess so.”

The smile finally broke free on your face, so you turned it away, trying to hide your growing giddiness, feeling fucking stupid to be so happy just from a stupid kiss that wasn’t even a real kiss. Your lips had yet to really touch Joel’s but, God, you were aching all over for it.

And tonight it seemed like you may finally get it.

Upon your return to the living room, you were stopped suddenly in the archway of the dining room, stumbling when somebody knocked into your side, sending you colliding into Joel, forcing his arm to reach out and circle around your waist to steady you.

“What the fu—”

Your affronted swearing cut off when you saw the back of Dina’s head as she ran past you, giggling as she found a spot by Ellie’s side next to the fireplace. The two girls grinned at you, a matching twinkle in their eyes as Ellie shot a finger gun to you and Joel, before slowly pointing it above you.

Joel stiffened instantly, but it took you a moment to catch up, glancing from the teens to the spot where Ellie was pointing and—

Oh.

You blinked a few times, staring at the small bunch of a green plant hanging in the archway above you, as if you were expecting it to be a hallucination that would disappear when you reopened your eyes.

But each time you blinked, it was still there, and your eyes widened before darting back down to Joel to see him looking at anything but you.

The pink on his cheeks had spread to his neck, and you immediately softened, glancing over the rare sight of thinly veiled nervousness accentuating the hard lines of that handsome face.

When he finally glanced back at you, his mouth opening to no doubt brush the circumstance aside, you were already leaning up, head tilting at the last moment to brush your lips in a gentle, featherlight kiss across the adorable blush on his face that quickly deepened in shade underneath the press of your lips there.

You lingered there, lips grazing across his cheek up to his ear to whisper, “Take me home, Joel.”

At your words, Joel’s grip on you tightened, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you pulled back. His eyes met yours, the brown of them so deep it felt never-ending, and your own breath caught in your throat as he nodded.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could register the eyes of your friends on you—and not just them. There were people watching as Joel’s hand remained firmly on the small of your back, gently directing you towards the front door, where he took his worn, brown leather jacket from the coat rack to lay across your shoulders, despite your protests that you had brought your own coat.

“Let them see,” was all he murmured, a familiar smug smirk twitching onto his lips, and your heart skipped a beat, desire sparking through your veins as you realized that Joel was subtly claiming you as his in front of all these people.

And, fuck, you were more than happy to let him.

In fact, the entire walk back to Joel’s house, that was all you could think of.

Pressed gently to his side as his hand slid underneath the jacket to remain on the small of your back; his.

The snow falling gently around you, landing on the silver in his hair as you secretly admired him whenever he wasn’t trying to sneak his own glances at you; his.

When he opened the door for you, standing back to allow you to go first, giving you a small, gentle smile as he looked at you with an anticipation that went past your usual hunger, an emotion that was far deeper than pure lust; his.

Joel directed you towards the living room, his hand only falling from your back as he murmured something about making you drinks, asking you to get a fire going before leaving you standing there in a whirlwind of your anticipation and longing to have him back with you as quickly as possible.

The request to make a fire almost made you laugh, reminding you of the patrol where you had fixed his dislocated shoulder, while you set about getting the fireplace ready. You remembered his cold demeanor then, and marveled at how he had completely warmed to you since, a warmth that settled into your bones even deeper than the one from the fire that you soon had going, setting the box he had carved for you on top of the fireplace mantle for now.

Joel still wasn’t back yet, and you were bound to start pacing anxiously if you didn’t do something with yourself, so you began to collect pillows and a few blankets off the furniture in the room, setting up a cozy little spot in front of the fire to sink down onto and wait for him.

Your face turned, eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled his comforting scent from his jacket that still rested around your shoulders, a smile growing onto your face as you shifted to pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly while you pressed your cheek on top of them.

Footsteps began to echo back down the hallway, and your heart raced in your chest, breathing picking up even though you hadn’t even seen him yet.

You waited for him to join you, but when the footsteps stopped at the entrance to the room, and a few beats passed, you glanced back over your shoulder to see what had made him pause.

But when you met Joel’s gaze, you saw that he had only been looking at you, that same depth to his eyes that you had seen under the mistletoe, and your stomach fluttered with those goddamn butterflies you were secretly growing more fond of as you looked at the mugs he held in his hands—a dark orange one for you, and the one with the owl that you had just gifted him.

Looking back up at him, you didn’t even realize you were grinning until your cheeks began to hurt, and you quickly turned your head away, facing back towards the fireplace as Joel finally walked forward to pass your mug to you.

You gladly took it, wrapping your hands around the cup, soaking the warmth into your cold hands as he sank down beside you onto your arranged pillows with a quiet grunt.

“Quite the little setup you got goin’ here,” he teased gently, and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to meet his playful little smirk with one of your own.

“It’s cozy,” you said quietly, nudging his shoulder with yours, but you didn’t pull away, letting your sides press together comfortably as you glanced towards the fire.

You brought the cup up to your lips for a sip, brows furrowing as the taste was much sweeter, almost richer than what you had been expecting.

Glancing down into the cup, you blinked a few times before meeting Joel’s gaze as you slowly began to ask, “Is this…?”

Joel nodded, taking a sip from his own mug, and you felt your heart ache with a foreign happiness at the sight of that owl art underneath his long, callused fingers as he replied, “Hot chocolate.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing over him with a low whistle. “Damn, Miller. Pulling out the big guns tonight?”

Joel shrugged, lips pulling up into a half-smirk that made your stomach flip as he drawled, “I gotta try, don’t I?”

Cheeks flushing at the hardly disguised flirtation, your eyes darted back to your own mug, drinking more of the hot chocolate and humming at the taste now that you weren’t expecting it to be coffee.

Silence fell between you then as you drank your hot chocolate in content, and even when the mugs were empty and placed back on the floor, you still remained quiet, sides pressed together as you both gazed into the fire.

Or, you thought you were both watching the logs crack under the flickering flames. But when you turned your head to finally break the silence, you found Joel watching you instead, a softness to his gaze that you had never seen before.

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you looked up into that gaze, eyes so large and brown, so deep and warm, pulling you in further as your lips parted, aching for him.

Always aching for him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw those beautiful eyes flash down to your mouth at the movement, his hand raising to stroke the backs of his trembling fingers down your cheek before he turned it over to lay his palm there. 

Joel cupped your face, thumb finding your chin to tilt your head up towards him as his eyes lifted back up from your lips, searching your gaze intently as you were too stunned, too entranced by the intimacy of the action to tear yourself away again.

Unable to help yourself, you gave in to the temptation to feel his own face beneath your fingers, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, revering the way he shivered at your touch.

Leaning forward, you watched his eyes begin to fall shut, a trembling breath leaving him while he sank into the growing familiarity of your touch on his face. 

You hadn’t realized it when your physical intimacy only went so far as pure sex before, but now that you had slowly begun to touch each other more casually, more familiarly, you were realizing with a startled clarity that Joel was a touch starved man.

And you think you were just as starved for touch.

Starved for his touch.

“Joel, I…” your words trailed off, and you noticed somewhere in the back of your mind how breathless, how disjointed and strung-out you sounded as his eyes opened back up, half-lidded and full of a longing that made your heart race.

“I…” Joel tried to say something himself, his eyes flickering all over your face, like he was trying to take you in all at once, but it wasn’t enough.

His face leaned down just an inch, his eyes continuing to search yours, waiting to see if you would pull back.

When you didn’t, Joel leaned down further, stopping only when the strong slope of his nose bumped against yours, his hot breath mingling with your own as he whispered again, “I…”

Your lips parted, tilting your face up so they nearly brushed with his own before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze as you murmured, “Do you want to kiss me, Joel Miller?”

The world froze for a moment.

You could feel Joel’s breath catch more than you heard it, feeling the lack of warmth fanning against your lips before that breath suddenly left him in a rush as he whispered earnestly, “Yes.”

Heart pounding, your eyelashes fluttered, losing yourself in the way he looked at you, with eyes so deep and dark that you couldn’t see an end to him. 

Couldn’t see an end without him.

But he was still waiting, still wanting to make sure you were okay with this, and you sighed, pouring all your pining for him into the sound before you whispered back, “Then what are you waiting for?”

As soon as the last word left your lips, Joel’s were pressed to them, stealing all the breath out of your lungs as he kissed you for the first time.

It was a soft kiss; barely even there, his lips pressed to yours for only a few seconds before he pulled back.

Even so, you could already feel his hand shaking from where he still cupped your cheek. Your own fingers were trembling from where they left his face to wrap around his neck, not giving him a moment to second-guess or say another word before you pulled him back down.

This time when you kissed, it was full and deep—deeper, deeper as his lips moved gently, then urgently against yours.

By no means was it a smooth kiss—it had been over a year since one of you had kissed anyone, instead spending all your time falling hopelessly into each other, trying to deny it until it was as sure as the sun rising every morning and setting each night.

No, the first real kiss you shared was sloppy, desperate, teeth nearly clashing as you sought to capture his lips with yours, and he did the same, again and again. He leaned forward, both his hands cupping your face as your fingers tangled in his hair, finally feeling how soft those curls were, and you whimpered into his mouth as it opened to swallow your sound of need.

Joel’s tongue slid into your mouth then, finding yours as he kissed you in a way that felt almost anguished, despairing for all the time you had wasted by trying to stay away from one another.

He continued to lean up and over you until you were gently falling back onto the pillows you had set up around you, settling himself on top of you as your lips parted from his only long enough for you to draw in enough breath to stay alive for each other before you were kissing again, over and over, until you were dizzy with only the feeling of him.

“Joel,” you whispered breathlessly, moaning as his lips closed around your bottom lip to suck on it before his teeth grazed against it, gently biting down and making an ache throb between your legs as he panted against your mouth.

“Need you,” Joel murmured just as breathlessly, one of his large hands moving to cup the back of your head as he tried to move his lips away to kiss across your face or down your neck, but he kept moving back up to your mouth, kissing you so passionately your head was spinning as he whispered, his voice thick with longing, “I need you.”

“Yours,” you gasped, grabbing his face to keep his lips against yours, breathing the words into his open mouth as you repeated, “I’m yours, Joel. Yours.”

Joel groaned, the sound turning into a whimper that just made the throbbing of your desire more intense, your panties growing damp as you felt his weight shift so his growing erection pressed against the center of your hips.

You were both grabbing for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at your clumsy eagerness to be undressed, which was only making it harder to do so.

Pulling your hands back, you let Joel undress you first, pushing his jacket off your shoulders with a groan at the sight of you still wearing it before laying his hands against the velvet of your dress, sliding his palms down to grab the hem as he whispered in your ear, “I meant it. Beautiful.”

You shivered, biting your lips that were already sore and swollen from his attention as he pulled the dress up and over your head. His hands reached behind your back, unhooking your bra next, throwing it to the side to be forgotten before tugging your panties down your legs.

“So beautiful,” Joel continued to whisper, his tone so full of admiration that you were whining even before his fingers found your folds. “You’re so beautiful.”

The sounds you were already making only became louder, moans and whimpers escaping your parted lips for only him to hear. It was almost like Joel just remembered he could finally kiss you now as he heard them, his face moving back down to desperately slot his mouth over yours while he collected your wetness on his fingers before they found your clit.

“Joel,” you gasped, grabbing his shoulders, before frowning to yourself as you remembered that he was still fully dressed.

You began to tug at the buttons on his flannel while he slowly rubbed your clit, your fingers fumbling as he worked to bring you pleasure in the way only he knew how, a deep laugh rumbling from his lips to land against yours while you struggled to get him undressed.

“Bastard,” you gasped, hips jerking up as you felt that ache in your core increase, the pressure building as your hands found his chest when you finally managed to get his shirt completely unbuttoned.

“You like it,” he hummed before he kissed you again, pulling the sounds of your pleasure into his mouth as he made you cum hard, hips continuing to weakly thrust up into his fingers that continued to stroke you through your high.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, licking your lips as you tried to catch your breath before nudging his hand away from your clit so you could get his shirt off.

His pants and boxers coming off was a blur, your vision still blurry from the intensity of your first orgasm, but you recognized the familiar feeling of the ridges of his cock pressed against your folds the moment he settled himself between your legs.

“Need you,” you found yourself whispering this time, lifting your hips to try and line yourself up with him even as Joel continued to swipe himself along your folds, taking his time to collect your dripping wetness, a groan of pleasure nearly humming from the back of his throat at your desperation. “Need you, Joel, please.”

When the head of his cock finally pushed through your folds, your head tilted back with a gasp, and Joel quickly grabbed one of the pillows around you, lifting your head to tuck it underneath before grabbing another pillow to rest underneath your back.

“Yours,” he whispered right back, echoing your own simple declaration to him as he continued to sink inside of you, and your eyes flashed open, meeting his to see that they were nothing but open and warm and real, the truth of the words fulfilling that deep, soulful ache you had felt around him for months and, oh. “I’m yours.”

That sudden realization fled your mind as Joel pulled back to thrust back into you again, and you both gasped, his forehead coming down to rest against yours as he repeated the motion again.

And again, and again, his cock easily slipping almost all the way out before rolling back in, fucking you slowly, sensually, until you were both sweating and panting from trying to make this moment last for as long as you could.

“Joel—”

He began to pick up the pace just at the sound of his name leaving your lips, already knowing exactly what you wanted, what you needed, as he fucked you into the mess of blankets and pillows strewn across the floor in front of the fire that still burned brightly in his fireplace.

No, fucking was the wrong word. You weren’t fucking anymore, you were—

You gasped, back arching as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it quickly in your favorite way so that you were digging your nails into his back, leaving your mark on him as Joel whimpered. He adjusted himself, laying his full body weight against you as he bucked into you rapidly, letting his skin stimulate your clit instead until you were coming again.

The world faded around you for a moment, and the only thing keeping you grounded to the moment were his lips pressed desperately to yours, whispering gentle words of praise right into your soul until you blinked a few times, gaining enough realization of your surroundings to look back up at him.

His brow was furrowed as sweat dripped down it, gaze clouded with the build of pleasure that was quickly nearing a climax, but even then it was so fucking honest and adoring and only for you that you found yourself whispering, “Inside.”

Joel’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly, even as his hips began to stutter, his thrusts growing sloppy. He whispered your name as a warning, even as the rasp of his voice sounded like he was nearly begging you to say it again, to confirm it.

“Inside, Joel,” you repeated, nodding at him to show it was okay, that you wanted it, wanted him, and his eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open as it only took a few more thrusts until he was spilling inside of you with a loud, long moan.

You whined at the feeling of his cum filling you up, your own lips parting with a gasp at the delicious way his cock pulsed so deeply inside of you until eventually the feeling subsided.

Joel panted heavily, his forehead nearly colliding with yours, lips searching blindly for your own in the afterglow of his orgasm, and you kissed him again, both of you moaning into the contact as you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him there.

Once he caught his breath, Joel slowly pulled out of you, glancing down with a groan, and you followed the direction of his eyes to see his cum dripping from your thoroughly fucked pussy and down your legs.

You moaned yourself at the sight, glancing from it back at him with a breathless chuckle, and he shook his head, even as his lips pressed to your temple while he murmured, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not,” you whispered back, wincing at how dry your throat was, and Joel pulled back, rolling off of you when he noticed how hoarse your voice sounded.

“I’ll—” he cut off, falling back down against the blankets with a grunt as he tried to push himself up. “Fuck, just—can’t feel my legs. Gimme a second.”

You giggled, and Joel’s eyes lit up at the rare sound, his kiss-swollen lips turning up into a fond smile as you curled up against him.

“Old man,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chest, and he hummed as his arm wrapped around your back, holding you against him as he kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, squeezing your side and making you squeak, an unexpected, unheard of sound from you that earned warm laughter that rumbled from his chest, and you could feel the vibrations of the sound underneath your ear as he added huskily, “But you like that too.”

You bit your lip before wincing, realizing how sore your mouth was from his kisses before you looked up at him.

“Maybe I do,” you teased quietly, and he smiled, leaning down to gently kiss your swollen lips once—then two, three times, unable to get enough of you before finally managing to extract himself out from under you and push himself up to his feet.

You adjusted on the pillows until you were comfortable enough, even though you could feel your body already beginning to ache from the intensity of your passion.

“Probably shouldn’t have done it on the floor, either,” you muttered as Joel returned with a washcloth and a glass of water, handing the latter to you so you could satisfy your parched throat while he cleaned up the mess he had left between your legs.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled with a wince as he gently swiped the washcloth along your folds and inner thighs, glancing up at you with a small smile that was almost bashful and made your heart swell with fondness, “I may have been a little too eager, there.”

“I think we both were,” you laughed quietly, a little nervously, eyes darting back and forth between his to find he was just as uncertain about this new development in your relationship as you.

The funny thing was, it didn’t even feel like a huge step—or perhaps it wasn’t really a surprise at all. Every step you had taken forward with Joel had felt normal, right, and this just felt like another natural progression towards whatever was next for the two of you.

When he settled back onto the pillows, pulling you onto his chest as he wrapped a blanket around you—specifically you, making sure you were as covered up and warm as you could be, even as it left himself almost completely bare—you relaxed into him without a second thought.

Still, you tried to subtly adjust the blanket to share it with him, earning a frown from him that quickly shifted into a small smile as you murmured with a flush on your cheeks, “Savior complex.”

You fell quiet then, soaking in the warmth of his body underneath yours, marveling for not the first time how the man was a fucking furnace as his fingers began to lazily comb through your hair.

When his other hand found your arm that was draped across his torso, drawing circles against your skin, you sighed happily, not even realizing his name had left your lips until you heard him murmur, “I like the way you say my name.”

Your head lifted, looking up at Joel as he stared up at the ceiling, his gaze almost melancholic while you asked softly, “How do I say it?”

Joel hummed thoughtfully, looking back down at you in the same moment his hand rose from your arm, fingers stroking your cheek as he gazed into your eyes and whispered, “Like it’s something worth saying.”

A heavy breath rushed from your lips, brows furrowing as you adjusted yourself so you were propped up against his chest.

“Joel—”

“There it is again,” he said quietly, wistfully, his eyes so large and sweet that you were falling hopelessly into him yet again.

You shook your head, pulling yourself up so you were hanging over him, your fingers running through his messy curls as you whispered earnestly, “It is worth saying.”

Now Joel shook his head, just slightly, and you frowned, placing your hand on his cheek to bring his eyes back to your face as he tried to avoid your gaze as you said firmly, “Joel. It is.”

Your thumb brushed across his lips, swollen from your kisses, then down across the beard on his chin that he had grown out just for you, feeling the scratch of it under your touch before you added in an almost scolding tone, “None of that savior complex bullshit.”

He laughed then, a quiet chuckle, his brow arching as he glanced over your face. “Only if you do the same.”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you moved the blanket so that you could swing your leg over his waist, straddling him so you could cup his face between both your hands, gently urging him to look at you, really look at you, because you wanted him to hear what you had to say.

“You’re a good man, Joel.”

He scoffed even before you had finished talking, and you frowned deeply, tilting his head back towards you as he tried to look away as you repeated, “Joel. You are a good man.”

“You know exactly what kind of man I am,” he said, finally meeting your eyes fully, his voice resolute and drawing a sigh from deep within your chest.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, giving a nod as you softened, thumb brushing along his cheek in a tender caress, a soft touch that he deserved after all his years of suffering. “You are a good man to me. A good man to Ellie. To Tommy, and Hope.”

Joel’s eyes wavered, taken aback by the conviction in your tone, but he leaned into your gentle caresses on his cheek, gaze warming as he glanced over your face while you spoke.

“I don’t fucking care what you’ve done, Joel, because I know why you did it,” you continued, keeping his gaze as you poured all your affection that had grown for him into the words. “I know why you did it all. And I would have done the exact same fucking things.”

When you finished speaking, you leaned down to press your lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss, resting your mouth there for a moment before tilting your face down to capture his own lips in a soft kiss that made an oath you finally knew how to keep.

Because it required no effort—not really. Every part of you already belonged to him, as he did to you.

All you had to do now was stay by his side, until the end.

And when Joel looked at you, gazing up at you with an admiration so sincere, like you truly were the moon in the sky that would always bring him home—home to you—you knew you would.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered then, in a way so soft, so yearning, that you knew you didn’t mean just tonight, but every night after.

And so he did.

[cosmal]

I offer you: Remus Lupin Giving You Lazy Hickeys When You're Cuddling

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 — 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

summary — remus gives you a lazy hickey and you fall asleep on him.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her pronouns, hickeys

“Dove!”

It’s a nickname he knows you can’t ignore. It’s true, you can’t. No matter what you’re doing, its something that’ll pull your attention to him every time.

You can hear him huff a small giggle when you start the small walk from your desk to the loungeroom. He’s smug and you’d detest it if he wasn’t also cute. Face all smooshed into the arm of the sofa, hair a complete mess, a tangle of blanket and limbs spread out over the cushions.

“Remus,” you say, tiniest smile playing on your lips. You won’t let him see how amused you are because you know what the next question will be before he even opens his lips.

“Will you lay down with me?” he yawns, outstretching his arms until his elbows click. You wrinkle your face.

“I’m busy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, face a little sad. He really was expecting you just to fall right into him.

“Yeah, gotta get this work done before tomorrow,” you tell him, turning to head back towards your room. If you don’t do it now, his sad face will have you breaking. 

“Just for five minutes. You’ve been working all day, honey. You need some rest.” Then, he’s making the softest face known to mankind. You think it’d be easier if you just closed your eyes when talking to him. 

“Remus,” you complain. “I really gotta-”

“Just five minutes, please.” he begs, sitting up a little until there’s the perfect you shaped space between his long legs. He looks too inviting. Warm and cosy.

“We both know it’ll be longer,” you say, moving to close the space between the two of you. 

“I’m not going to act like that bothers me.” Remus makes quick work to accpet your body into his space. Shuffling around until you’re comfortably resting over him. Face in his neck, arms needled around his back and your legs tangled through his like you’re made to lay there. He wraps his own arms around your back like you have and rests his cheek against yours, sighing deep and contently.

“Shit,” he murmurs, his breath a heat over your skin. You rub your face closer to his if its entirely possible..

“What?” Your voice is barely a whisper, a word that hardly carries. How he’s got you so relaxed so quickly is lost on you. He’s always been that way.

“I think I could lay here like this for the rest of my life,” he says, a little too lovesick. Too dazed.

You squeeze him around his sides, ribs pressing into the flesh of your arms, “Stop.”

“It’s true.” he leans down to press a quick, fond kiss to your neck. Smiling when you wriggle under his loving. “Seriously,” he says with another kiss, mumbled under your skin.

“Seriously,” you echo, fatigue making your voice a little thick and your eyes too heavy. You really don’t know how tired you are sometimes until Remus has to remind you. It usually ends up like this. Messed up in cuddles that have the stress squeezed out your fingertips.

“You’re tired,” Remus says it like an I told you so when sigh under your breath. High-pitched and relaxed, wriggling yourself closer to him.

“Yeah.” You nod and his shirt bunches under your neck. Your skin now touching and it might be the final straw that keeps you from not falling asleep.

His mouth moves down the length of your neck until he’s hovering over your pulse point. “Sleep, then,” he says before sucking your skin. Pulling your flesh between his swelling lips until blood rushes to the surface. His bottom lip drags up over the plane of your neck until it closes, a wet line left behind.

You murmur a dying protest under your breath and completely melt when he nibbles. Whimpering under his ministrations that vibrate over your skin when you make any noise.

“Remus,” you whisper. Pleady and quiet. Remus dies.

“Hmm,” he hums into your skin. There’s nothing to be said but he knows what you mean.

He pulls his lips back with the tiniest, wet smack, grinning like he’s stupidly pleased. He is when he sees the light mauve mark he’s left behind.

You start to wriggle against him like you miss the bullying of his mouth. Remus takes your pleading with pride, leaning down to press his wet lips back against the mess he’s made of your skin. Sucking sucking sucking until your face screws up with pleasure. Your knee coming up towards him to push between his thighs, lifting your chin to grant him better access. 

He nudges the darkened spot with his nose, grinning when you whimper. Entirely oversensitive. He gives it one more kiss for good measure before setting his head back against your hair. 

You both fall asleep on the sofa and five minutes becomes two hours.

[heizlut]

First Time ft Thoma

CW: none i guess, this is pretty tame tbh.

tags: afab reader. soft dom Thoma. no use of y/n. smut. implied first time together. porn without much plot

nsfw under the cut

check out my masterlist here!

༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥

You and Thoma have been together now for a few months, having met while you were stuck in Ritou. He ended up helping you out and even showing you around. It didn’t take long for him to ask you out on a date which included knitting sweaters for the strays around Inazuma.

Which leads you to where you are now months later at the Kamisato estate after you begged him to let you help him out around the estate as you wanted to see just exactly what he does there. After a long day of working alongside your boyfriend, you found yourself growing tired, unable to process how he can do all this every single day on top of being Inazuma’s most well-known and reliable fixer.

"Are you getting tired?" Thoma asks. You nod your head sleepily and yawn. "Alright, let's go back to my room" He said and picks you up bridal style to which you let out a squeal of laughter. When you get to his room Thoma gently drops you onto his bed and you let out a laugh as you fell onto his mattress. Your laughter dies down as he climbs into the bed, caging you in with his arms.  "Thoma...what're you doing? You're gonna suffocate me!" You whine, laughing as he collapses on top of you. He laughs and props himself up on his forearms, keeping himself above you. You look up at him through your lashes, smiling sweetly.

Thoma leans forward and kisses you. Your tongues slide against each other as you share the kiss passionately. His hands roam your sides, slowly making their way under your shirt. He breaks the kiss and looks deeply into your eyes. "My love.." He whispers. You hum in response, "Yes?" Thoma leans down and kisses you again, deeper this time. You moan into his mouth and tangle your fingers in his hair. He pulls away slightly, looking down at you in complete adoration, “You're so beautiful" he breathes out.

Your cheeks flush pink as you avert your gaze from his slightly. He laughs softly and and gently guides you by your chin so you’re looking at him and kisses you again, nipping at you bottom lip gently.  A small whine escapes you as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He smirks against your lips as he deepened the kiss, moving down your jaw to your neck.  His hands gripped your hips tightly, pressing himself closer to your body. Thoma’s tongue grazes against your pulse point, drawing a loud moan from your throat. Your breathing grew heavier. You clutch his shoulders desperately as one of his hands grazes your exposed thigh. You shiver at the contact. His fingertips ghost against your bare skin, causing goosebumps to spread across your body.

Thoma rolls his hips into yours, causing you to moan as you feel his hardness against your core. His grip tightens on your thigh and a low growl leaves his throat. You arch up into him, trying to reach him, desperate for his touch, craving his warmth and taste. Your nails dig lightly into his back as you try to get closer. The friction feels amazing and it drives you wild. He presses his forehead against yours , panting heavily as he stares intensely into your eyes. You bit your lip as you gaze up at him, watching him breathe heavily. His pupils blown wide and dilated.  You reach up with your free hand and cup his cheek, running your thumb along his jawline. You wanted him so bad, the feeling of needing Thoma so badly drove you wild. He leans down and captures your lips once more, sliding his tongue in between your slightly open lips. He groans as you suck on his tongue, gripping his hair, as your hips moved against his own in rhythm. He pauses for a moment, breathing heavily, "Do you want this?" He asks quietly.  You bite down on your bottom lip, "More than anything." He lifts his hand and caresses your face, "Fuck it" he growls before crashing his lips against yours.

You moan as Thoma explores your mouth, kissing you furiously, his tongue dancing with yours. Your hands travel up and down his back, nails lightly scratching and leaving small red marks behind. The feeling makes him crazy. His hands traveled from your waist to cup your ass in his hands and he squeezes. "Thoma...." you moan against his lips. "Yeah baby" he purrs as he kisses you roughly, sucking on your lower lip. His kisses were demanding and possessive, hungry and passionate.

You felt dizzy from just having him touch you like this. “Please..." You breathe out. He smirks, "Please what?" he teases, rolling his hips into your core once more. "Please Thoma...don't tease me." you moan with a small pout on your face. He smirks and pulls away from your face. He runs his thumb across your swollen lips. Your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick it. He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you begin to suck on it. He groans, "Fuck.." His other hand drifts down your thigh and closer to where you were aching to feel his touch. He pushes your now soaked panties to the side and begins rubbing your clit in gentle circles with his thumb. You release a soft whimper and your legs instinctively open wider. You reach down to grab the hem of your shirt and slide it over your head, tossing it to the ground. Thoma’s gaze grows even more heated and he leans in, giving your nipple a small lick. You gasp sharply as your head tilts back. He grins devilishly and pulls your nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your sensitive flesh. You moan loudly as you grab the sheets beneath you tightly in your fists. He begins placing hot kisses down your body until his face is lined up with your dripping core. He smirks up at you and gives your clit a small lick. A hot blush stains your cheeks as you let out a shaky gasp and arch your back up off the bed. He slips two fingers into you and continues his attack on your clit, sucking and flicking your swollen flesh with his tongue. "Oh archons… Thoma.." you moan, gripping his hair. He smirks up at you and thrusts another finger inside you. You gasp and your eyes flutter shut as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge of coming undone. "Come for me, baby." Thoma whispers and continues licking and sucking, pumping his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, curling them to hit your G spot over and over. You moan loudly and cry out in pleasure when you cum, soaking his mouth in the process. Your body shakes uncontrollably as waves of pleasure overtake you. He removes his fingers and gives your sensitive clit one last lick causing you to whimper weakly.

Thoma smiles up at you and brings his face close to yours, pressing a few soft kisses along your forehead, nose, then your cheeks, and finally your swollen lips. "That was fucking incredible, Thoma..." you pant. "But now it's your turn." You say as a sly smile spreads across your lips. He raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?" giving you a teasing smile. You hum in response as you push his chest til he was sitting on the bed. He admires your naked body as you get up from the bed and sink to your knees in front of him. He watches as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers and pull them off of him. His hard cock springs free from its confines. Thoma watches intently as you take him into your mouth.

"Oh fuck.." He whispers as you begin to move. He moans softly as you lick and suck every inch of his shaft. You moan as you work him, sending vibrations straight to his sensitive tip and you could tell that he was near the brink of orgasm. You look up at him, his eyes glazed with lust and his hair messier than usual, he looks absolutely sinful. You take him as deep as you could. He grabs the back of your head and begins thrusting into your mouth. After a couple of minutes, he pulls your mouth off his cock and lifts you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you once again. He lines himself up with your dripping entrance, pushing his tip into you. He pumps into you slowly, stilling himself there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full of his cock. "Fuck me, Thoma" you whimper. Thoma groans and begins pumping into you faster, hitting your cervix with each thrust. Your eyes roll back and flutter shut. "God you feel so fucking good. ‘s like you were made for me" he grunts. You grab the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him deeply.

He moans into your mouth in satisfaction as he slams into you, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing cock, "That it baby, cum for me." You let out a breathy moan as you ride out your orgasm. Soon, Thoma felt his own orgasm coming on fast. "You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?” he asks quickly. You moan loudly in response, your cunt clenching around his cock once more from his words. “Good", he growls out as his cock throbs inside of you, filling you with his hot cum, "Fuuck..." he breathes out as he finishes. Thoma rests his forehead on yours, panting heavily. You bring your hand up and caress his cheek. He closes his eyes and savours the feeling of your soft palm on his cheek. Thoma turns his head and kisses your palm, "You're incredible, babe." You smile at him softly, brushing some strands of his blonde hair off his face, "I feel really lucky to have met you."

Thoma chuckles softly, "I feel the same, beautiful." He kisses her nose and gets up, grabbing a towel to clean you off. After that, he climbs onto the bed and tucks you under his arm. You sigh contently as you snuggle up beside him. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss in your hair and closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥༄ ༄🔥

a/n: ayato and ayaka in their rooms hearing everything like 🧍🧍‍♀️

anyways, that was long af. I took this actually from another fic I wrote and felt it fit thoma really well so I honestly just edited the wording a bit so if there are any inconsistencies, plz tell me lmao

[reversedanatomy]

Finding Peace: Chapter 1

Summary: The first chapter to a slow-burn Nat x Reader fic. Building the relationship between Wanda x Reader. First Marvel fic and post here so I'm still getting used to preferable layouts, writing styles, tags, etc!!

TW: 18+!!! sexual themes, bad relationship themes, alcoholism, swearing, aggressiveness, uncomfortable topics.

Gif not mine

You remember the first night that you and Wanda had gone on a date. You two met inorganically through a dating app. It wasn’t something you were too keen on using, but the dating scene was impossible in the area, and you thought you might give it a try. After meeting Wanda for the first night at a sports bar downtown, the sparks between you two were evident. Her confidence spread goosebumps throughout your body as she weaved her way through a crowd of people lined up at the bar to meet you at your table. She was more radiant than any of her pictures on her profile.

“Y/N?” She leaned over you, placing a locked arm on the surface of the table to emphasize her cleavage.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, in awe of the outfit she chose to shape her body. She then smiled and slid into your lap. Caressing your face with her hands, she pressed her lips into yours as if she’d known you for years. You let yourself feel every spark, every firework she set off inside of your chest. The callouses of her hands cupped your jawline. They slid up your face to push your hair behind your ear. Her kiss was warm as it traveled from your lips to the corner of your mouth and down your neck. Her hands followed.

“You waste no time,” you smirked and pushed her deeper towards you. It was all so warm, so familiar. “This doesn’t seem like the place we should be doing this, though. How about we skip the small talk and head back to my place?” You lifted her chin with the tips of your fingers and presented your offer. She gave you a toothy smile that reached ear to ear.

“That’s rather bold of you,” she replied with a twinge of sarcasm. You snorted and let your thumb glide across her cheek. "How about a few drinks first? I get a bit nervous on first dates unless I've had a few." You admired her forwardness albeit it wasn’t something you were familiar with.

“Could’ve fooled me,” a chuckle slipped from your chest. “I thought you were already a few deep and I needed to catch up.” Wanda smiled in response. She moved from your lap onto the seat next to you and pulled a five from her coat pocket. She slid it towards you.

“Catch me up, then,” she whispered into your ear and patted the five before crossing her legs and folding her arms in an act of seductive defiance. A grin curled at the corners of your mouth, and you rolled your eyes in response and clicked your tongue. You took the five and made your way to the bar.

After a few drinks and some small talk, you two left the bar hand-in-hand to wander the downtown streets. Winter was arriving soon, and the biting cold left you breathless. Wanda noticed quickly and drew you into her long, black overcoat with a light tan trim. Already, you felt warmer. Already, you felt safe.

The two of you wandered for hours, but it only felt like minutes. Once your feet started hurting, you two both settled onto the stair steps outside of some unlabeled Baroque-style building. Your hands interlocked perfectly together as you both shared her coat. Wanda made you laugh. It was a genuine, hearty laugh that you hadn’t laughed in years. She was laughing, too. She said that she loved your humor, and that made you grin even more. Your grin was followed, however, with a yawn.

“Starting to get tired?” Wanda yawned in response. You nodded, another full laugh slipping from your chest.

“I mean…kind of? But… I just don’t want this night to end,” you sighed. Wanda kissed your forehead.

“Who says it has to end?” You looked up at her, meeting her blue-green eyes with admiration. “I figured that was the intention from the beginning, so I may or may not have taken us to my apartment.” Wanda turned around and pointed to the third story of the building, where the faint glow of a lamp illuminated through the window.

“That’s rather bold of you, Wanda,” you made reference to her previous claim at the bar. Wanda struck you a side-eye, her auburn hair falling from behind her ear to frame her face. You shrugged. “Well, what are we waiting for? I’m cold as hell and it looks like there’s an apartment up there calling my name.” You stood up and took her hand into your pocket before turning towards the apartment. She stumbled a bit on the steps while standing up, but was eager and quick to let both of you into the building.

The rest of the night was one to remember. The way Wanda felt underneath you felt just as natural as when she kissed you in the bar earlier that night. When you two were ready to sleep, you held her close to your body. You never wanted to let go of this feeling. Everything inside of you buzzed, and a warmth rushed through your veins. You looked at Wanda sleeping in your arms. You never wanted this night to end.

---------------------

Nearly three and a half years later, all you wanted was for this night to end. You locked yourself in the bathroom as you heard Wanda in the living room smash her liquor bottle on the wall. You held your hands against your ears as you listened to her shouting about how much this relationship was breaking her, how you were breaking her.

Tears fell down your cheeks. This isn’t what you wanted when you two moved in together into a small apartment in Chicago after dating for a year. For as long as you could’ve remembered, the honeymoon stage never left. The butterflies still fluttered through the garden of your body when you held her in your arms. It was all perfect. All perfect, until the first argument.

Wanda drank. A lot. It wasn’t a problem at first when the two of you were frequenting bars on date nights with or without friends. As time progressed, however, and the two of you moved in with each other, you realized she was just as much of a drinker at home as she was at bars. You mentioned your insecurities about it with her when you noticed that it was affecting your relationship, but she turned up her nose to you and poured herself another glass.

She blamed her alcoholism on a shitty childhood and high-stress job. She never told you what she did for a living, but you noticed she was often gone on extended trips to places she said she couldn’t talk about with you. “Think of it like I signed an NDA,” she would say as an excuse. You sighed and accepted there were things you were better off not knowing. If you pried, however, another argument would start. The drinking would start.

This was one of those nights. Wanda said she was leaving in a week for an entire month on an international trip for work. “We had plans for our three-and-a-half-year anniversary and my birthday, remember?” You said.

“I know, but you know how work is,” Wanda pouted and gave you the ‘eyes’ that she always gave you to get her way when it came to leaving for work.

“No, I don’t know how work is,” you snapped in response. “I never know how work is. You never tell me. For all I know, you could be off fucking somebody or somebodies in Spain or China or fuck knows where else.” You felt the heat rise in your face as a pit formed in your throat. You were choking out your words now because you were scared. But… it was okay to feel insecure about this, right? Wanda told you that you shouldn’t, but all of your friends agree with you that if she’s leaving all the time that you at least have the right to know where she is.

“What are you, my mom? Stop being controlling.” Wanda wouldn’t make eye contact with you. She was sitting at the kitchen bar, staring at the ice in her glass as she swirled her drink. You became irate. You ran your fingers through your hair, gripping into your roots.

“I’m controlling? You’re the one who’s disappearing for weeks or months on end without giving me the time of day. Sure, I was fine with your work trips when they were planned in advance and only for a few days at a time. Now, it’s like you’re leaving every other week, and I don’t know when I’m going to see you again.” The tears began welling up in your eyes. They burned. You began pacing back and forth between the living room and the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Wanda put her drink down and began getting up from her stool. “I wish I could tell you. I really do.” She was drunkenly stumbling towards you, arms outstretched. You noticed her coming towards you, and you started for the bathroom. “Y/N, please don’t do this right now.”

Now you were here, in the bathroom. You turned the lock and slid down with your back against the wall. Wanda pressed her head against the door and started pawing at it.

“Y/N, please don’t do this. Just let m’in ‘nd we c’n talk about it,” Wanda stumbled over her words as she continued to paw at the door. When you didn’t reply, she started knocking. Louder. Louder. Louder, she knocked until you finally responded.

“Wanda, please, just leave me alone. You’re drunk, and I just don’t want to deal with this right now.” You were crying faster than you could wipe your tears, but Wanda wouldn’t leave.

“Then just tell me to leave if you don’t want me around,” Wanda smacked the door before you could hear her walking back to the kitchen. Then came a crash as you heard what sounded like a liquor bottle, or maybe her drink, being thrown to the floor. Jesus, what’s happening to us, Wanda? You thought to yourself as you reached for the tissues to dry your tears and blow your nose. There was more stomping, and the sound of walls being punched before you could hear Wanda trudging back towards the bathroom door.

“This is all your fucking fault, Y/N.” Wanda smacked her hand against the door again. You flinched from behind the door, but you refused to respond. It would only make her angrier if you said anything. “If only you just didn’t question what I did for work like what we agreed on when we first started dating, we wouldn’t be dealing with this problem.” It’s different when we’ve been together for three-and-a-half years as opposed to a few months, you wanted to say, but you held your tongue. Wanda continued.

“I’m not fucking anybody else, if that’s what you want to hear. I’m loyal to you. I’ve only ever been loyal to you,” Wanda started crying and hitting her head against the door. “I love you, Y/N. I only ever show you that I love you. You’re my everything.” The banging stopped. “But if you want me to leave, just tell me.” There was only quiet except for the quiet tears you could barely hear from Wanda. Your breath left your body in a long, exasperated sigh. You lifted your head from between your knees and twisted your upper half towards the door.

“I don’t want you to leave, Wanda. I just want things to go back to the way they were before.” You spoke monotonously, making sure your voice was emotionless enough as to not set Wanda off again.

“It’s never going to go back to the way things were,” you heard Wanda slide her back down the door from the other side. This made you start crying again, even harder. You were scared. If she left, you’d lose three-and-a-half years with the person you thought you were going to marry.

“What happened to us?” You forced a laugh through your tears. You paused after saying that to wait for a response from Wanda. Nothing. Your smile faded back into sorrow as you buried your chin between your knees and looked down at the floor. Maybe Wanda was doing the same. Maybe she was also contemplating the relationship—whether it’d end or whether they’d keep recycling the same arguments and this same drunken routine. You knew nothing was going to change, but you still wanted to try. Maybe it was because you were more scared to be alone than to keep hearing her slam on the bathroom door and smash bottles. When it was good, it was great. But there were so many moments now that left you feeling weak, tired, scared, and unfulfilled that you pondered whether the good moments just made you feel safe, or if they were actually great.

Wanda never responded to your question. You sat up on your knees, took one last breath, and turned to open the door. Your hand settled on the doorknob. Once you opened that door, you knew all the memories you two spent together would shatter like the glass from earlier. You felt that pit rising back into your throat as you unlocked the knob and started opening the door. The idea of facing Wanda right now terrified you—not because she was violent and angry, but because you hated those difficult, uncomfortable conversations about what happens next between you two.

You turned the doorknob and took a step back. You felt the door swing towards you with the weight of Wanda as she collapsed onto the floor. She was passed out. If this was two years ago, you would be rushing to her side and checking her pulse. Now, this was frequent. Weekly. Daily, even. You kneeled beside her to confirm her breathing before grabbing her by the forearms to drag her into the bedroom. As you dragged her, you glanced at the kitchen floor. She only smashed her empty glass, not the entire bottle. At least this time it would be an easy cleanup for tomorrow morning.

Once in the bedroom, you spent no time pulling her arm across your shoulder to help her into bed. You pulled back the bed sheets, set her on her side in the bed, and pulled the sheets up to her chin. You contemplated giving her a kiss on the forehead, but you recognized that this could be the last time you two ever had some kind of physical touch. You leaned in and gave her a quick peck. It tasted bittersweet.

You crawled into bed next to her and studied her face. Wanda was sleeping so peacefully. Her lips were slightly parted, and her auburn hair fell over her face. She always slept with her hand under her face when she laid on her side. You thought one more time about the first night at the bar and the confidence she had upon meeting you. You reminisced on the times you two made love, contemplated marriage, talked about what having kids running around the house would be like, and how you two would grow old together. You wanted so badly for everything to circle back to the sparks you two felt that first night, as that was what kept you going through this mistreatment all these years with her. These memories flooded through your mind, until you finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

-------------------------------------

The next morning, you woke up to the bed empty beside you. “Wanda?” You called out for her. No response. She must either be watching TV, or she left to head to the store for breakfast. The pain from the night before held strong in your chest as you composed yourself before heading into the living room. You scanned for any sight of Wanda. The TV was off and there was no sign of her. The site on the kitchen floor where she smashed her glass was swept and mopped. Then, your eyes lifted, where you noticed a note left on the bar.

You instantly rushed to the note, feeling yourself grow heavy as you got closer and closer to it. You picked it up and felt your hands shaking as you read it:

Y/N, I’m so sorry for last night, and I’m so sorry for everything I’m about to write to you. We both knew this day would come where we would part. You and I both have been going through a lot, and I think it’s time that we spent time apart so that we can work on ourselves. Also, work sent for me this morning. I thought we would have more time together before I left to get some kind of closure, but they needed me urgently. I’ll be gone for a while, they said. Months, maybe even years. Please don’t go looking for me. I’ll be okay. I love you.

                                                                                                            -Wanda.

You fell to the floor and broke into tears. You let out an ugly, guttural cry as you held the note to your chest. It was over without any conversation. There was no closure. There was no last goodbye as Wanda would step out the door and leave. There was no watching her from the window as she’d walk through the city streets before melting into the crowd, disappearing from your life together. This note was quick and nonconfrontational. It was unlike her.

You put the note in your kitchen drawer and slumped onto the couch. Whatever came next, you could handle it. You always could. You switched the TV on and felt yourself cry. You let yourself cry. A new chapter would open for you, you just had to accept it.

[football-and-fanfics]

Sleep In - Phil Foden

Who: Phil Foden Prompt: Gently waking him up Requested by: anonymous Word count: 457 Warnings: none

Manchester City's match had left Phil completely exhausted. Their second leg Champions League match had ended in a draw, which meant extra time and eventually a penalty shootout. In the end, the team had managed to secure the win, but it had been an exhausting battle.

When Phil came home after the match, he had gone straight to bed and had fallen asleep within minutes.

---

Even though you had the day off, you still woke up around 7am out of habit. Beside you, Phil lay on his front, peacefully asleep, and he didn't look like he would be waking up soon. You had seen how tired he was, so you made sure to get out of bed very quietly and not wake him up for now.

It was nearing 11.30am, and you still hadn't seen Phil up. You knew he didn't like sleeping in too late, because it would disrupt his rhythm. The time was already way past what he liked, but given how exhausted he had been, you believed an extra hour of sleep would not hurt him. Still, now that it was nearing mid-day, you decided to go wake Phil up to prevent him from sleeping through half of the day.

Phil still lay in more or less the same position as when you had gotten up earlier that morning: on his front and slightly spread-eagled. You quietly approached him, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed. You watched him for a few seconds to make sure he wasn't already awake, but Phil was clearly still deep asleep.

"Sweetie." You rested a flat hand on his back, gently shaking him. He groaned softly and stirred under your touch. "What time is it?" Phil opened his eyes just a crack, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. "11.30." You caressed the back of his head. "Shit." Phil huffed. He winced softly as he propped himself up on one elbow. The match had not only tired him, he was also aching all over.

"You don't have to get up," you said softly, "if you want to stay in bed, that's perfectly fine." "No." Phil sat up further. "If I sleep any more now, my entire rhythm goes to hell." You frowned, because he still looked rather tired. "You look like you could use some more sleep." "It's fine." Phil yawned, grinning slightly. "And even though I won't be sleeping, I won't be very active today either."

You chuckled, understanding his desires for today immediately. "I'll make you some toast and tea, and pick us a nice, long movie to watch." You gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He smiled back lovingly. "No better way to regain my energy."

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Writing masterlist | Phil Foden masterlist

[phoenixinthefiles]

To Know Your Heart Is a Brave Thing

💜📱…Flowerbyte drabble (but also not a drabble cus I lack self-control) @vhstown @noharaaa anybody let me know if you wanna be tagged for flowerbyte fics or any other fics

“I feel like you being passive aggressive right now, listening to this song while you talking to me.”

🎶If you don’t want me then don’t talk to me…

“Go ahead and free yourself,” Margo sang to Miles, picking up the lyrics.

Miles shook his head with a grin and Margo matched it before lowering the volume of the music playing through her speakers.

She’d been blasting music all day from various different genres, though she did agree that maybe “Free Yourself” by Fantasia was a bad selection for the moment.

Plus that song was old even in Miles’ world, it was pretty much ancient in hers.

She flicked one of her hands in the air, shuffling her playlist and turning the volume back up simultaneously.

The beginning of “Let Me Love You” by Mario started playing and Margo grinned.

It was still an old song but she knew Miles had a soft spot for it.

He smacked his lips and gave her a wry look.

“Don’t try to butter me up now Ms. Kess.”

“Boy, nobody’s buttering you up, I put my playlist on shuffle.”

A cocky grin spread over his face and Margo rolled her eyes, but her stomach still flipped.

“Even your algorithms like me.”

Though she rolled her eyes again, she knew there was truth in his statement.

In the four months they’d been dating, Margo has noticed the way the world around seems to have changed. Both the physical world and the virtual-verse.

She’d started exploring the physicality of the world around her thanks to her many visits to E-1610.

She walked through the same park where she and Miles hung out for the first time.

She had walked it before maybe once or twice, but after visiting Miles it was like the whole place lit up. She felt drawn to the spots she’d recognized from Miles’ world.

It was like there was something pulling her to sit under a certain tree or rest her hands against a certain fence.

And when she did, her heart would fill with an inexplicable sort of warmth that she knew only came from Miles.

She knew she probably looked crazy to the rare onlooker as she stood in the middle of a nearly deserted park, all alone and with a dumb smile on her face. But she still made it a top priority to visit it at least once a week.

It had become her happy place, and before Miles she didn’t even think it was possible for her to find solace in reality.

She’d never expressed these thoughts to him, she didn’t even know how, but she was sure he knew.

Margo wasn’t completely confident in how her connection with technology worked but Miles’ comment about her algorithms wasn’t too far off.

“I’m so tired, this song might just put me to sleep.”

Margo is pulled back into the present by Miles’ voice.

He’s lying down on his stomach with his phone propped up in front of him. His eyes are low and he blinks them rapidly in effort to stay awake.

Margo feels that warmth in her heart spark up at the lazy smile that’s spread across his face.

"Why are you still up if you're so tired?"

He yawns and his eyes drop a little lower as he rests his chin on the pillow in front of him.

"We haven't talked in a while, this is worth staying up for."

A wide grin splits Margo's face and she ducks from the camera to try and tamp it down.

When she reappears it's still just as big and bright, but Miles is looking at her with eyes that are a little less tired and a soft small of his own, so she knows they're sharing the same feeling.

A physical connection being reciprocated across highly advanced technology and between two teens in different worlds.

"You still need to go to sleep," she says.

He hums and looks away for a second.

"Are you uh...busy tomorrow?"

Her grin widens again but she doesn't hide this time.

"Nope. I'm completely free all day, which is very rare so I should really take the opportunity to do something special."

"Well then a very special person might come to see you."

"Very special, huh?"

"Yup."

They both laugh softly and Margo finds herself lost in his boyish grin and soft eyes.

She's pleased that he seems to be equally as fond of the cheesy grin that has yet to leave her face.

"Goodnight, Miles."

"Goodnight Miss Kess."

There's another shared laugh and then the holo-screen in front of her goes black. Her reflection shows a girl charmed-sparkling eyes, a wide smile, and straining cheeks.

These are the only times her reflection truly matches her real feelings.

This was inspired by "Young Love" by Cleo Sol

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Part Eight

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our eighth installment! There will be no update on the 15th, so our next installment will come on the 22nd. Thank you for reading 💚Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, sexual acts between two consenting adults and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Tucking into his sleeping bag that night, this time on a wooden lean-to thatched with old pine boughs, his stomach full of a delicious meal, Karl knew he ought to be content.

Hell, he ought to be worn out from a day of socializing. 

But all he could focus on was your back. You had spread out your sleeping roll next to his once you returned from the bathhouse, wished him goodnight sleepily and then immediately nodded off. You were on the outside instead of him, which Karl wasn't enormously fond of, but he understood that you were just too exhausted to climb over him.

Your back was tantalizingly close. It was the only part of you not wholly engulfed by your sleeping bag. He already knew what the weave of your thermal shirt felt like, after last night-

Karl forced himself to roll onto his back, tearing his eyes away from you. Thinking about it too much felt…wrong, somehow, like he was about to get his wrist slapped. Or broken. The merciful Mother Miranda hadn't exactly spared the rod when it came to him. 

The man forced a quiet breath out through his nose, his fingers absently mapping the length of the scar on his lower lip. 

It was still immensely foreign for him to want something and not instantly indulge himself in it. Really, it was going against the nature of the beast! Karl felt a little fake over the whole thing, like he was expected to just…devour you. Swallow you whole and leave nothing but the bones. This slow approach…

Was there anything in life actually worth waiting for? Gods, it had always been such a mad dash ever since he had decided he wanted to kill Miranda. Karl hadn't thought about waiting for anything else in years upon years, his single-minded ambition serving him well in that pursuit. 

Karl glanced over at you again before he could stop himself. 

Yes. Was it being greedy if you wanted it too?

He barely refrained from groaning, the man jamming his knuckles against his eyes in frustration. Sleep didn't come easily for him that night.

So he was a little disgruntled when he was awoken again, well before dawn if the sky was anything to go by. However, his malcontent rapidly vanished as he heard you drowsily ask, "can I put your dick in my mouth?"

Heisenberg didn't even think about his reply, much to his dismay. The word rushed out of his mouth before he could register it. "Absolutely." He grunted, your hand immediately moving to rest on the plane of his hip. "Aren't you tired though?"

"A little," you admitted, yawning, "but I want to do this."

"Listen, I…last night was kind of a fluke for me." Karl warned you gruffly, his words slow to come. It hadn't even been a fluke, it had been an outright baffling turn of events for him to only come once. In the past, it had always taken him a short eternity, at least three orgasms before he was satisfied. Something about last night, something about you had to have been different. Maybe it was the fact that it had been so long for him. "If you start this, it's probably not going to be over for…well, a while. So you don't have t-"

"Shh." You mumbled, unzipping his pants. "I don't care. I'm not doing this to get it out of the way, Karl."

His misgivings quickly faded when you ran your tongue over the side of his dick, Karl hissing out a breath and groaning. You looked incredible with his dick in your mouth. Your eyes were heated and drowsy, your hair still a mess from sleep, slightly-chilled fingers wrapped around the base of his cock so you could engulf him in your mouth…incredible, he could at least admit to himself. Even if he didn't deserve it.

And he certainly didn't. 

"Get up here." He managed to say, patting his chest. 

You pulled your mouth away, squinting up at him. "Where?" You asked, your spit-slick palm still working his cock. 

Karl gritted his teeth; he had forgotten you couldn't really see in the dark. "Uh. On my face." He finally clarified awkwardly. "I want you to sit on my face, sugar." 

"Oh." You breathed. Something in your tone made Karl's dick twitch, which was very new. He'd never had anything like that happen.

Fuck, what the hell was the matter with him? One person showed a little interest and all of a sudden his body was screaming for them? It felt pitiful, but maybe it made sense. No one had ever wanted him before, they had always wanted what he could offer them. Karl hadn't exactly had his pick of bedfellows either, the man not overeager to lose his dick to one thing or another. 

Maybe this was normal.

However, he didn't really feel like dedicating any more thought to that particular issue, choosing instead to focus on you gingerly straddling his head. 

…

Morning found you wrapped around a slumbering Karl, the insides of your thighs still pleasantly sensitive from the rub of his facial hair. You groaned, stretching and then settling back into his arms for another minute or two. 

Your mind drifted back to you waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden impulse to offer a sexual favor, acting on said impulse and how gratifying Karl's response had been. Hell, he hadn't so much as taken a beat before he answered. Your jaw was a little stiff this morning, but to be fair, he had warned you and apologized for how long the act might take. He had also gotten you off as well, which was unexpected but appreciated.

In the cold daylight you grimaced at yourself, thinking everything over. It might not be…so bad, having someone around that, even while being emotionally unavailable, was physically attracted to you. The attention was nice. The way he looked at you was nice. You could live with an arrangement like this. The two of you cohabitating, occasionally sleeping together, but without the mess of a relationship. 

It felt smart. Logical. A mutually-beneficial endeavor.

You nodded, your mind made up, and with that settled you moved to retrieve your discarded leggings from the base of your sleeping bag. The town campground had the rare luxury of bathrooms with running water and you intended to take full advantage of them once more. Any time you could bathe without having to lug or heat the water yourself was prized.

Upon your return from getting washed up for the day, Karl was just struggling out of the tangled mess of his sleeping bag. You took in the way he looked for a moment, catching yourself smiling at his disheveled appearance before he looked up with a scowl.

Seems like you may have tamed me.

"Thought you got eaten." He said unconvincingly, yawning midway through his sentence.

"Well, you certainly made a valiant attempt at doing so last night." You shot back, snickering at his momentary confusion. Whatever his hangup had been, it seemed that the casual nature of your most recent offer had been enough to dispel it. Heisenberg actually laughed once he realized what you were getting at, the sound refreshing in its honesty. 

"You know how I am, always ravenous." He teased with a wink, beginning to messily roll up his bedding. "At least you let me sleep for a few hours-"

"'Let' you, oh my God you're so dramatic."

Continuing to banter back and forth, the two of you broke down camp for the morning and got everything packed back up. As usual, you were returning to Emil's to pick up the supplies that you had secured the previous day, and from there it was back on the trail. 

Karl seemed to be in high spirits this morning, the man carrying on a lively, one-sided conversation with a glowering Emil while he effortlessly loaded the sled with bags of flour and sugar. Emil had always helped you in the past, so it was a bit humorous to see how put-out the elderly man was over Karl's assistance. 

"Take care of yourself, little one." Emil said before you departed, his brows furrowed in a serious expression. "We don't know what happened regarding the military presence at the reservoir and…" he paused, aiming a glare at the oblivious Karl. "Well, we don't know what we don't know, I suppose." He finished grudgingly.

"Thanks for looking out for me." You grinned, making Emil reluctantly smile back. "I can handle myself, but I appreciate the concern."

Emil caught your arm as you turned to leave. "I…I am unsure of the validity of Marku's reports. Promise me you will be safe." He murmured. You nodded. His shoulders sagged, the elderly man clearly relieved. "Thank you for humoring me, little one."

…

"What's he to you, some kind of uncle?" Heisenberg finally asked after the two of you had crossed the town line (indicated by a metal sign so worn it was essentially illegible). "Seemed a little more concerned than the average butcher or baker."

You sighed, glancing over at him. "Emil worked with my relatives for a long time, like I said. He's basically watched me grow up, coming here every fall for years and years with my family."

Karl 'hmm'ed, still annoyed with how Emil had sullenly watched him, but at least now he understood why. "Guess I'll have to let it slide, then." He joked lightly. "The disrespect."

He didn't expect you to laugh. "Don't feel special, he's like that with everyone new. Just stick around and he'll warm up to you."

Stick around. Karl wasn't sure what to make of that. He busied himself adjusting the load on the sled, double-checking the straps wrapped around the bags of flour and brown sugar. 

Did you…want him to stick around? Did you want him to stay in your cabin even longer? 

Indebted.

Karl tossed his head, jamming his hat back down as the wind whipped through the trees. "I assume you know the way?" He called over the wind, smirking when you gestured downward with a deadpan expression at the rutted, snow-covered track. The runner marks from the sled were still visible as well, indicating where the two of you had passed by yesterday.

You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

Casual, maybe that's what you were interested in? A casual relationship, some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement. You didn't seem to feel strongly one way or another, always keeping your cards close to your chest. It was probably simpler to keep things casual anyway. 

You had mentioned Emil and Marku saying something about 'a military presence at the reservoir'. He could only assume it was Moreau's reservoir, especially after that hunched old shepherd had asked if he had any relation to the Heisenberg factory. 

You look familiar. 

Had the older generation in that town met his relatives? His father, maybe? A shudder ran down his spine at the thought. Unless his former family had been better at hiding their urges than he was, he doubted they had left a good impression. He had gotten his legendary temper somewhere, after all.

That particular train of thought steamed onward, souring Karl's mood into a black chasm of bitter half-memories. Family was such a loaded topic, but it really always had been. After his father had passed on (too bad, so sad), family was confusing at best and downright terrible at worst. He didn't have anyone. He never had, and if he'd had his way it would have stayed as such. The bastardization of siblings, of mother, would always make him writhe. Even at a young age, he knew better than to trust what that cult leader wanted to fill his mind with.

They were a means to an end, they always had been. Miranda prettying it up with family was just another tactic to keep them loyal, devoted, good little sheep in her flock. 

"You okay?" Karl started at the sound of your voice beside him, the man quickly turning. You had paused for a drink, your water bottle in hand while you raised an eyebrow at him.

Damn, he was parched. "Lost in thought." Heisenberg muttered. 

"Want to talk about-"

"No." He snapped, then cringed at the way your face briefly showed your hurt before you could hide it. "I uh, no. Sorry. This stuff is better off in my head." 

"Don't think too hard, okay? I can see the steam coming out of your ears." You retorted snidely. 

Karl gave you a hollow grin, taking a healthy sip from his own bottle. "What can I say? I'm a machine of industry."

…

You may as well have been alone for all that your companion offered to the trek in terms of conversation. He trundled along behind you silently, the sled rails crunching through the icy top of the snow under their heavy burden. Nearly two hundred pounds of flour and sugar, never mind the other, less bulky items you had picked up. Your own backpack was carefully loaded to the brim, full of small essentials that would make your winter bearable. It was always important to find ways to stave off the boredom during the cold months, where it seemed like the entire world was hibernating except for you. 

The two of you walked well into the afternoon to reach the lean-to, choosing to eat lunch on the road as opposed to stopping. You found that often if you had a fully-loaded pack, stopping and starting back up again was more difficult than just continuing to plod forward. Karl didn't seem to mind one way or another, the man having no issue with keeping the even pace.

Upon reaching the lean-to, you took in the copious tracks through the snow around the area. Wolf prints criss-crossed over yours and Karl's, and at the outskirts of the clearing was the meandering trail of a solitary bear. You whistled at the sight of that, a little concerned. The lean-to was only about three feet off the ground; a normal-sized brown bear would be able to crawl into it on top of you and Karl and you doubted it would be overly thrilled with your company.

"What the hell? That big bitch ought to be in hibernation." Karl grumbled as he came up alongside you, the man placing a boot firmly in the middle of a pawprint. 

"Late bloomer, I guess." You shrugged, sighing. "I usually don't get much sleep on the return trip anyway. Too much food and the smells attract the wildlife." 

"Sugar, I'm here." Karl thumped himself on the chest, making you snort. "If that bear wants to pick a fight, I'll go mano a mano with it. I do not give a shit."

"I mean you're a bit better suited to the challenge than the average person, what with your ability to make metal listen to you." You pointed out. "The rest of us normies would have a real rough time, especially without a gun." Heisenberg's scoff of derision at that was almost deafening, startling another snicker out of you. "Forgive me, Lord Heisenberg." You teased.

"Don't call me that." His tone dropped to a low growl, entirely lacking in humor. You gave him a confused look and he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I…I just don't want to think about that shit right now," he continued quietly. 

"Okay." Christ, you felt awkward. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Karl glanced around, then set off in a random direction. You watched him go, worried until he bent to scoop up a few twigs from beneath a tree. The relief that washed over you was…odd, so you staunchly ignored it by beginning to mound up the ashes in the fire pit. 

Scraping the char off to the sides, you worked to separate out the half-burned sticks from the rest of the ash so that you could build the fire properly. A few moments of digging around later and you had a decent pile of kindling, using your knife to splinter the burnt branches into a more useful size. The act was meditative, helping you to turn off the part of you that so desperately wanted to think about Karl, about his past, about…

You shook your head, frustrated at yourself. Now wasn't the time for this! You needed to get the fire going before you lost daylight. That was the priority.

Karl dumped an armful of branches onto the ground beside the half barrel, his eyes distant and reply vague when you thanked him. Clearly he too was thinking hard. He began methodically snapping branches in half, breaking them down into a more manageable size while you continued to carefully stack the kindling. When you finally slipped a match in between the twigs and splinters, you were relieved by how quickly the flames caught. Sometimes it was a little touch and go!

"What's on the menu, sugar?" Heisenberg asked, opening the flap of his pack and then looking at you expectantly. 

"Well, we've got the leftovers from last night's dinner." You had packed the two cardboard takeaway containers (with plastic cutlery, what luxuries!) into the outside of your pack to keep them cold, so you directed him to where they were. "We also have the last of the preserves, at least until we get home, and the bread."

"Save that for the morning, we can make toast." Karl reasoned and you nodded in agreement. 

The two takeout containers were soon splayed open, Heisenberg offering you a bite of his cheese pie in exchange for one of the cabbage rolls you had saved. The two of you took turns warming your ramshackle dinner over the fire, Karl having fashioned a sort of long fork out of a section of metal from the top of the barrel in order to facilitate the process. 

"Granted, I could just stick my hand into the fire, but I don't feel like healing third degree burns tonight." Karl waved his fingers well above the flames in a joking manner.

"Does anything actually hurt you?" You asked curiously, kicking yourself when his expression darkened immediately. 

"Shit hurts me like it hurts everyone else." Heisenberg responded stiffly. "I've still got nerve endings. They're a little fried, but there." 

"Sorry, I'm really putting my foot in my mouth tonight." You tried to apologize but he waved it off.

"You're allowed to be curious, sugar. If I didn't want to answer, I wouldn't." 

"Yeah but I'm not owed information. I'm just nosy, I guess. Don't feel like you have to answer things just because I ask them." At that, you were pleased to see the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. You wondered if he had felt like he had to answer you, even if it made him uncomfortable. 

"Thanks," was his eventual reply, and the two of you lapsed into a companionable silence while you finished dinner.

…

Heisenberg woke to a fresh dusting of snow on the ground, your face buried in his chest and frost coating his eyebrows. He grumbled, rubbing the heel of his palm back and forth to dislodge the icy remains on his forehead. Drowsy eyes traveled to the two packs that he had hoisted high up into a nearby tree, the man relieved to see them still hanging unscathed. There were also no fresh tracks in the snow that he could see from his reclined position, another good sign.

It had been a quiet night, then. That was a relief. Karl had been concerned about a possible scuffle in the night, either with local wildlife or old friends, but it seemed his fears had been unfounded.

"Time to wake up, sugar." Karl murmured, rubbing your back. "Home tonight, if all goes well."

"Mhm," you hummed, pressing an absent kiss to the underside of his jaw before you rolled upright and stretched. A wide yawn quickly turned into violent shivering and you rushed to wrap yourself up in your sleeping bag. "Shit it's cold, damn." You grumbled, grabbing the ski suit you had tucked into the foot last night and wriggling the legs of it up over your base layer. 

Karl, still a little confused from your kiss, just slid out of the lean-to after donning his boots. He almost welcomed the cold, it was bracing in a way. Grounding. Don't think about it.

"Bread should be in your pack, close to the top." You called when he moved to lower the two hanging bags from their lofty perch. 

"Got it." Karl replied, slinging both packs over his shoulder so they didn't end up in the fresh powder on the ground. After setting the backpacks down in the lean-to, he quickly located the wrapped loaf of bread and handed it off to you, chuckling as you ripped the heel off the loaf and shoved it into your mouth. "Hungry this morning?"

You nodded, struggling to swallow momentarily. "It's tough, I feel like I'm always hungrier after other people's cooking." You admitted. 

"Alright, well, let's get breakfast going before you eat the whole damn loaf." Don't think about it.

But gods, it was difficult. He coaxed the fire back to life and you toasted half the loaf in one go, your eyes so intent on the task it was nearly comical. Then came the last of the preserves you had brought, a little crystalline from being at the bottom of the jar but no less delicious. Karl got a little of the sticky substance in his mustache and you noticed it before he did, the man not realizing until you were wiping it clean with a soft laugh. "You always eat so fast! Nobody's going to take it from you, I promise."

Don't think about it, Karl reminded himself sternly on the trail later that day, finding his eyes wandering to your hips once more. Don't think about it, damn it all. 

Things could be simple. He didn't need to ruin it by thinking about it, like he had done with everything else in his life. He could be happy like this, actually happy. So why the hell did he feel the need to think and subsequently shred his chances of existing peacefully? 

You ruin everything you touch.

Heisenberg set his jaw tight enough to feel the ticking of his muscles. It felt too inevitable, too sinisterly obvious. He was going to do something to ruin this for himself. Maybe he already had set it in motion. He had put his hands on you, had touched you freely, and–

Don't think about it.

What more could he do, though? Without his title, without the want for his title, all he had now was worry, concern, and doubt. His closest friends throughout his life, crowding in once again to drown him with the ceaseless loop of regret. Not remorse, mind, Karl didn't believe remorse was a thing he could feel, but he could understand that he had done monstrous things and justified them in the name of taking down Miranda. Where his 'siblings' had treated their endeavors as the greater good, Heisenberg knew damn well that his goals were nothing so glamorous. 

You ruin everything you touch. 

His vision blurred and Heisenberg chose to stare at the ground for a very, very long time, focusing on his skis retreading the tracks from your own. Behind him the sled full of supplies continued to be pulled along, the runners carving deeper into the snow than either you or Karl's skis. While he was intent on this particular task the man made his most valiant effort yet to entirely turn his brain off and, to his relief, it seemed to work for a little while. No thinking about what he had done, no fear about what he might do. Just one foot in front of the other, over and over again until the two of you reached more familiar woodlands.

Home.

That jolted him out of his thoughtless respite, much to his dismay. It wasn't his home, his home was some mold-ridden hellpit and he knew that. No matter how far he strayed, no matter how much he tried to ignore or forget, that factory was his home. The village was his home, with its sullen gray skies and the taste of rust perpetually in his mouth. 

You skied back to him, a smile on your face. Clearly you had noticed his flagging pace. "Almost home, Karl! Only a little further. You need a break? Snack?"

Home. 

Karl gritted his teeth until they creaked under the pressure, uncertain if the taste of iron was from phantom rust or if he had just cracked a tooth. He forced himself to ease his posture, willed his jaw to loosen, and opened his mouth. "I'd like a snack, yeah. I'm starving." He confessed unexpectedly, the actual response he had intended to give being 'no let's just get this done'.

"You got it!" Slinging your pack around, you dug through until you seized another cardboard takeaway container. "From Rache, Marku's wife. She gave us some donuts. Or, wait no, they're called papanasi I think."

Papanasi. Karl's mind latched onto the familiar word just as hungrily as his hands latched onto the fried good. It returned something to him, in a strange way. A memory, or maybe a dream of a memory: someone handing a small, hungry child a warm treat. 

Was he crying? Heisenberg cringed, trying to turn away so that you wouldn't see him wipe his eyes. He still flinched when you caught his arm but instead of berating him (or whatever the hell else he had been expecting), you simply used the end of your scarf to scrub at his cheek. 

"There! You had a little smudge." You smiled at him and Karl managed to muster up a watery twitch of his lips in return, the man rushing to cram the rest of the treat into his mouth to save him from engaging in some form of conversation.

Home. 

Part Nine

[savorypink]

ok mickey hear me out:

sweetener blurb where bling is recording a live doing a skincare routine/makeup and al is eating her out under the table/dressing table 😋

obviously whoever is watching will notice something's happening is because of her reactions and the constant glances she gives down there.

- 👻 (i've made countless requests before but i never identified myself, i don't know if it makes any difference now but whatever lol)

well now you have your own tag! :D

"okay! now that i've washed off my cleanser, i'm gonna apply...this."

you hold the container of eye cream up to your cell phone on the tripod as you wait for the camera to focus. once the screen unblurs, you read the product's label before opening the container, dipping a finger into the smooth cream, and gently patting the cream under your eyes.

"so, yeah, i just pat in there like so. it's super refreshing and honestly—ow!" you wince as your fingertips accidentally poke the inside of your eye, the painful sting quickly replaced with pleasure as alex licks another long stripe along your wet folds. you cover your mouth when your jaw falls slack, unconvincingly playing it off as a yawn.

you shoot a warning glance underneath your cluttered vanity, but alex isn't there to see it, given how far his head is buried between your plush thighs. you raise your head as your phone chimes, crimson and heat filling your cleansed face.

blingbrat: omg are you okay bling?

"yeah, i'm good! just a little tired. that's why we're doing a nighttime routine, right?" you chuckle nervously, your eyes and lust-shrouded brain unable to remember the next step of your routine. a trembling hand reaches for...what was it again? toner! yes, your toner.

you show it off to the camera timidly, your toes curling into the pink carpet under your feet as his wet mouth shrouds your clit, gently sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive nerve.

your heart rumbles through the satin of your nightgown as you glance downward one more, a hot stream of saliva and your slick staining the velvet cushion of the vanity chair. alex's hands run along the smooth skin of your legs as his mouth becomes more restless, his tongue swirling and twisting in frantic patterns both in and outside of your weeping cunt. you squeeze, perhaps too much toner, onto a cotton pad before swiping it across your flushed face. wait. aren't you supposed to be giving instructions or something?

"u-uh, yeah," your voice trembles as you begin. "t-this is a...great toner. it really gets the oil out of my—oh." your eyes blissfully shut as two fingers glide into your sticky walls, pumping in and out of you at a hurried pace, all while his tongue flicks wildly at your clit.

the wet, squelching noises emitting from under the vanity get louder as his fingers move quicker, and you really can't give in, but your body wants to. you spread your legs and drop the cotton pad, quickly moving on to the next step.

johnniedoe: Where's Al? x

"he's under...under the blankets! h-he's asleep!" you smack him atop the head with a pack of makeup wipes when you hear him chuckle.

you pick up the serum bottle, repeat the same song, and dance, but move more clumsily than last time. biting your lip, you quickly apply the serum to your face in soothing circles akin to your boyfriend's tongue motions. his fingers curl inside of you as they plunge into your cunt, his fingertips beginning to brush on a particular spongey area, making your face twist in bliss.

you quickly shift your blissed expression to nervous content, watching as the comments become flooded with question marks and confused emojis. perhaps skipping to the final step of your routine is for the best.

"finally, i put on my moisturizer..." you scan the vanity for your night cream, biting hard on your lip as his fingers deliciously brush against your g-spot. miraculously, you open the lid with a straight face, ignoring the familiar tightness building in your core.

pinksavory: waaait! tell us about the serum!

internally, you roll your eyes.

"the serum? it's strawberry-scented, so you know i love it," you giggle. your eyes quickly move to alex underneath you, and you're annoyed that you can't kick the grin off his handsome face. his wet lips kiss tenderly along your inner thighs before leaving a lingering kiss on your clit.

his large eyes look up at you as he mouths: "are you close?" he knows the answer, but you nod anyway, rocking your hips against his fingers.

while your hips swish back and forth, you apply your night cream. the tension in your lower half becomes more intense as you swipe the cream across your face, your hands even stopping so you can focus on your forthcoming bliss. when your phone chimes again, you resume rubbing in the cream, heat rushing to your ears. you study both sides of your face in the mirror for any excess product.

you remember you didn't read the label to your audience, but with the unraveling of the tightness in your core, it'd be in your best interest not to dwell on it. just post a link or something.

"and... that covers it! that's my routine. i’ll post a story with everything i used. mmm, hold on just one second, guys."

unbeknownst to you, your shaky finger misses the pause button in the corner of the screen by a mere inch as your hands quickly move to take hefty fistfuls of alex's hair. you moan as if you've been holding your breath, your tight walls preparing to close around his fingers.

"fuck, alex."

castingcouch2: IS HE UNDER THE TABLE????

blingsb1tchh: ijbol she forgot to pause it 😭😭

you flutter around his fingers with a hearty moan, the buzzing and chiming of your phone practically muted as your cry fills the bedroom. your thighs jolt as alex removes his fingers to soothingly massage your trembling thighs, mumbling praises against your skin. when your cloudy eyes meet your phone again, you notice the comment thread moving faster than when you did your skincare. like, a lot faster.

your phone's mirrored image of your confused expression puts together the puzzle as you embarrassingly hide your face in your clammy hands.

johnniedoe: I KNEW IT

sweetesttreatt: y’all can never save it for the stream i SWEAR

blingbrat: at least ur skin is glowing

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #7 - kissing disease

kai parker x reader

summary: despite the deal he had made with her several weeks ago, kai needs his sister for her medical opinion, again.

tags: doctor / hospital, sickness, small mention of blood, caught / confession

word count: 1,023

a/n: here is a short lil drabble-ish piece i wrote as i'm trying to get back in the swing of things. i went to a tvd con, and then got a cold 😭 so i'm a little out of it. but, i did produce this, so here it is!

A series of knocks disturb the couple and their guest from their conversation. It’s bad enough to have one uninvited guest, and now there’s another at the door. Even worse, when Ric answers, it’s the person he and his girlfriend want to see least in the world. 

Kai Parker, visibly ill, is hunched over his entryway. One hand is gripping the doorframe, while the other is raised to knock again, but drops when Ric opens it. 

“Oh no-” the older man starts.

“Wait, wait, wait-”

Upon hearing the direct ‘no’ from Ric, Jo joins his side. At the sight of her twin brother, though, she’s immediately pissed. “No. We had a deal. I give you my magic and you never speak to me again.”

“I know-”

“So why the hell would you think it’s okay to come here?”

“I need your help.”

“You’re insane! If you think I’m going to help you, after all you’ve ever done to me, you’re insane.”

“I know, and I know we had a deal. But, look, I’m really sick, I don’t know why. It’s not a magical problem this time, because I’ve tried to heal it with magic and it’s not working. I don’t know if I did the right spell, or if there’s something blocking it, I don’t know. All I ask is that you just look. Just, try to see me as a patient, just for today. Please?”

“You will not manipulate me like that. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not trying to, I promise.”

By now, Damon’s joined the doorway. “Oh, it’s you,” he says bluntly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m sick. I came to see my sister because she’s a doctor, not because I wanted to hurt her. Please, Josette.”

The girl sighs. “Fine. But if you try anything, I will kill you.”

“Promise I won’t.”

Ten minutes later, she has Kai sitting on a patient bed in Whitmore hospital. The three had decided it would be easier to do there, so they made the quick drive over to the medical center. Luckily, it’s after busy hours, so they’re able to work without interruption. 

At first, Jo asks all the typical questions and runs all the standard tests. She rules out that it’s definitely not a magical issue, and that it seems to be a virus of some sort. She just can’t seem to narrow it down to which one, though. 

“It’s not strep; that test came up negative. Could you repeat your symptoms to me?”

Kai rolls his eyes, but answers, “throat has been sore for a couple days, my, like, lymph nodes are swollen, up here on my neck,” he points to the area, “I’m really tired, skin is kinda hot, and I’ve had a headache.”

“Right. So this is kind of a Hail Mary, but I’m gonna do it anyway. I need a sample of your blood. Just a finger-prick.” She holds out a little test, then a needle, and takes his hand. “Try not to flinch,” she says, before remembering to whom she’s talking. Jo then almost flinches herself when she realizes it’s her brother’s hand she’s grasping. 

Kai doesn’t budge when she pricks his finger. In fact, he just yawns, like he’s bored. It disturbs her. 

“Just give it a couple minutes.”

Jo leaves to find the other two while the test takes the time it needs. In a couple minutes, though, she returns, both men on her tail. She reads the test, then scoffs. 

“What is it?” Ric asks before anyone else can.

“It’s positive.”

“For what?”

“Mono.”

“What?!” The man asks a third time. 

“What’s that mean?” Damon questions, too.

“Mononucleosis. Epstein-Barr. Whatever you want to call it. The Kissing Disease.” She looks at Kai, who says nothing. “Spread through saliva. Either you got it from kissing someone, or sharing drinks, silverware, or something like that. So what’s it from?”

“No way,” Damon interrupts, “there’s no way someone was kissing him, that’s got to be a false positive.”

“It’s the only one of all my tests to come out positive.”

“Alright, fine,” Kai says, “of all the ways I expected to be caught, this was not one of them.”

The two men seem to get angry at this. At nearly the same time, they bark, “who was the poor girl?”

“Hey, she was a willing participant!”

“Who was it, Kai?”

“Really pretty. Sweet voice. Likes the bad boys, but she seems so innocent, you wouldn’t know unless she told you. Friend of yours, Damon. You had her babysit me one day, and then things just kind of… took off!”

“No.” Damon denies, not wanting it to be true. 

“Oh, yes.”

“She wouldn’t be caught with the likes of you. Y/N is too good for that.”

“Oh, but she wasn’t caught… until, well, she apparently gave me mono.”

“But that was months ago I had her watch you.”

“And it was months ago since we started hanging out. And then hanging turned to kissing, which I started, because she’s way too shy to give in the first time, but once she does, she’s just… crazyyyy cute about it. Always stealing kisses when I’m not expecting it. Guess it makes sense how this could’ve happened.”

“You’re lying. Y/N would never.” Ric agrees with his best friend. 

“I swear to you I am not.”

“I’ve got an easy way to figure this out. Hold on one second.” Damon puts a finger up while dialing a number on his phone. After a few rings, it picks up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi. What’s up?”

“Not much. Was just wondering if you’re up for a drink later, at the grill?”

“Mm, I’m not actually feeling too great today. Raincheck for another time?”

“Oh, really? That sucks.”

“Yeah, I think it’s just a typical common cold.” You clear your throat rather loudly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no worries. Feel better okay?”

“I’ll try,” you chuckle, “see you later?”

“Let me know when you’re better. Bye.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Damon looks at Alaric, then Jo, and all three, horrified, stare down at Kai together.

The little troublemaker manages to smirk. “Still think I’m lying?” 

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this as a part of my 12 days of ficmas, I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x gn!reader imagine.

The prompt is Elves, it’s for @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge.

Warnings: none

You were incredibly upset that you had so much work to do that even decorating for the holidays seemed to be impossible for you.

You were working so hard that once you actually made it home you were knocked out, barely even being able to cook on the days you and Bob had agreed on.

Your relationship was wonderful and you had a lot of work evenly distributed between you two.

Bob was generally kind and thoughtful, even though he too had an incredibly demanding job.

You were very upset about not having time nor energy to decorate, which was why you talked to Bob about it.

He was sweet and understanding as you lay together in bed, holding each other as you went to sleep.

You drifted off in his arms, but awoke to the sound of your alarm clock, and an empty bed.

Your arm went straight out to Bob’s side of the bed but you only felt linen below you, making your eyes shoot open in confusion.

When you tiptoed down the stairs you found your home alight with ornaments and decorations, fairy lights spun over the fireplace and the banister.

Your eyes slowly started to widen as you took in each and every small change in your home, the boxes of Christmas decorations you had all stacked somewhere neatly emptied out.

Your awe was ever growing as you moved through your home, each of your beloved trinkets having found their best possible spot.

Each step you took transported you further into your Christmas themed home and you walked through it like in a daze, the warm colors and decorations comforting you.

When you entered the kitchen you found Bob standing there, watching the oven as he rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

He looked very tired, his shoulders slouched in his white shirt as he watched the Christmas cookies, that were emitting a gorgeous scent.

“Baby?” You asked and he whipped around, his shoulders immediately straightening and a small yet tired smile creeping onto his face.

“Hey,” he whispered, and you smiled back at him.

“Did you do all this? For me? Did you even sleep?” You asked, and he shook his head gingerly, his smile turning more into a timid grin.

He took a second to reply as he thought of something.

“I… it was elves,” he replied, and a slight tint of red settled on his ears and cheeks.

A chuckle rose from your chest and you moved towards him to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

Bob quickly kissed you back though his enthusiasm was limited, fighting a yawn as he focused on you.

When you pulled away a smile spread over your lips and he returned it, leaning his forehead against your own.

You were so grateful for his love, and after a coffee for the two of you you were able to at least partly return the favor.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @iangiemae @klmpun @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @tipsykeen @bespinnn @airedale17 @malindacath @aerangi @luckyladycreator2 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @tipsykeen @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @atarmychick007 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @jewels98 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby

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[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Go On Moony

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters: Remus Lupin, Original Female Character, Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape

Word Count: 1192

Rating: Teen

Summary: Remus’ lesson plan goes awry thanks to three trouble makers.

Tags/ Warnings: Set In Prisoner of Azkaban, Teaching, Grief, Friendship, Bullying, Ghosts? Kinda

Notes: This is an Other Evans Girl drabble. And I’ve made myself sad.

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

‘Harry told me what happened you know,’ Daisy said, moving the cup of tea to her lips and watching Remus as she took a small sip. It was still warm, freshly poured even though he’d been in her office for over an hour. Seeing as she had to be on hand for the students it was a common occurrence for him to come to her even though her living quarters were cramped and stuffy. It was why they were knee to knee sitting on the tiny couch in her office but she didn’t mind. It was nice to have some company.

‘Hmm?’ he asked, looking up from his cup of tea. He had bags under his eyes, deep purple patches that made him look paler than normal and highlighted the old scar across his nose even further. Daisy was surprised they’d managed to talk as long as they had as she knew he was tired. He’d even ducked out of the days lessons in favour of rest, something he’d informed her had required asking Snape to cover for him which would drain anyone.

‘About his lesson about Boggarts,’ she said, hoping that would jog a memory.

‘Oh that,’ Remus sighed, though it turned into a yawn he was forced to stifle.

‘Yeah that,’ Daisy said, raising an eyebrow which made him sigh again. He wasn’t surprised she was concerned; it hadn’t exactly been fun for him to have to explain why he’d had to cut his lesson short to the other teachers once word had gotten around. A dementor in his classroom had spread around the school like wildfire.

‘It was my fault,’ he said with a frown, ‘I didn’t think about him being there. Most kids have something innocuous, clowns or rats or something. I forgot he’s not exactly an average thirteen-year-old.’

‘I agree he’s not,’ she replied, ‘but that wasn’t what I was talking about.’

‘No?’ Remus asked, raising a curious eyebrow as he watched her take a sip. She was wearing a small smile, an amused expression he hadn't expected considering she was technically a parent and he’d put her child through the wringer, however unintentionally, in front of his whole class.

‘No,’ she mused, making his gaze narrow and a small smile play on his own lips. She was teasing him, a feat he’d long since grown used to and given the way she’d been feeling these past few weeks he was happy to oblige to mocking if only to cheer her up.

‘Go on then what did he tell you,’ he said, nudging her knee with his foot from where it was folded under his leg.

‘Something about Snape in old woman's clothes?’ she asked, a grin on her pretty face.

‘Oh that,’ he grinned.

‘Yeah that,’ she giggled.

‘Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t intentional?’ he asked.

‘Not a chance,’ she said, ‘you’re just lucky you weren’t in the staff room when he heard. Should’ve seen his face.’

‘Was he mad?’ Remus asked.

‘Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if your next batch of Wolfsbane gives you a gippy tummy,’ Daisy chuckled.

‘No one must’ve told him he looks rather fetching in green then,’ Remus said, laughing along with her. Though as their laughter died down he could feel words bubbling up inside him. He didn’t know whether or not to tell her, the reason he hadn't done it before now was because he had thought it would make her sad. And she had enough reason to be sad as it was.

But she had brought it up. And if they were destined to share their gloom they may as well share the good things too and so he said, ‘it wasn’t intentional you know.’

‘No?’ Daisy asked curiously.

‘I mean I don't know what I was going to do I hadn't really expected Neville's greatest fear to be snape-’

‘I dare say he might have that effect on many a student,’ Daisy offered.

‘Yeah but still we’re teachers together right? It’s one thing for us to dislike each other but to do it in front of the kids I guess it feels low,’ Remus admitted.

‘He’s gone a lot lower,’ Daisy bargained.

‘Still,’ he shrugged before he became nervous, fiddling with the fabric of his cardigan as he felt her watching him her curiosity mounting, ‘I don’t know what I was going to do the trick is to turn the boggart into something funny that way you’re not scared of it y’know.’

‘Yes Remus believe it or not I did get a newt in defence against the dark arts too,’ Daisy said sarcastically.

‘Yeah,’ Remus said noncommittally making her frown but he was in his own head by then, his thoughts finally bubbling up as he said, ‘it was them.’

‘Them?’ she asked though realisation dawned on her as he looked up and offered her a sad smile, ‘oh them.’

‘It’s like they were there whispering in my ear,’ Remus said, allowing a smile to grace his lips. He could hear them now if he listened hard enough.

‘Go on Moony,’ James chuckled, his grin wide as a Cheshire cat as if he’d heard the thought inside his head clear as if he’d spoken it aloud. He didn’t know where it had come from but when looking at Neville his mind often turned to Frank and Alice, the perfect blend of the pair of them that he was. Just like Harry although where Harry had been allowed to flourish under Daisy’s care Neville seemed hindered by well everything. And at that his mind flashed to a formidable woman he’d met once at Alice’s wedding. Augusta Longbottom. And at that the idea had sprouted.

‘I can’t,’ Remus replied, the thought of embarrassing Snape, even a boggart version of him, in front of all these children feeling below the belt.

‘Sure you can,’ Sirius chuckled.

‘Who knows maybe he’d look better in women’s clothes,’ Peter reasoned.

‘Can’t look any worse,’ Sirius mused.

‘I’m the teacher!’ Remus protested.

‘And?’ James chuckled.

‘Even better you can’t get in trouble,’ Sirius agreed.

‘Go on Moony,’ James said, his voice audible in Remus’ ear, ‘you know you want to.’

‘It was nice,’ Remus said, unable to read the look on Daisy’s face, the way she’d pursed her lips together reminiscent of her trying to hold in tears.

‘It always is,’ she said quietly. Remus frowned.

‘You think you’re the only one that hears them?’ she asked, offering a sad laugh, ‘I used to have them every day.  Pete, James, Lil…him. It used to be like a knife to the chest… still is most of the time.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Remus said, ‘but this…it was nice.’

‘I bet,’ Daisy said sadly and as if on instinct Remus shifted, moving to put his cup of tea on a stable flat surface as she moved into his arms, her own wrapping around his torso, her head in his chest. They were quiet for a moment, his cheek resting on top of her golden locks.

‘I like the nice ones,’ she whispered.

‘Me too Dais,’ Remus sighed, ‘me too.’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirL @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[bus-stop-to-kpop]

Trick or Treat (Sangyeon x Reader)

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x gn!Reader

Requested?: No

Genre: fluff, Halloween, college!au

Summary: You promised your little brother to go trick or treating with him and his friends, but now their uncle is also coming. But maybe having him come along isn’t as bad as you thought.

Word Count: 1,065

A/N: Happy Halloween~~

"Y/N, You made a promise to your brother now keep it!" Your mother hissed in a sharp tone. "But Mom, that was before I knew about their creepy old uncle coming!" You tried to argue but she didn't budge.

A while ago you had promised your little brother to go trick or treating with him and two of his friends from primary school on Halloween, you were okay with that, you liked kids, but now you were told that their uncle would be tagging along. You didn't want to spent your evening with some random guy, who was probably in his thirties or forties.

However, knowing that you couldn't win against your mother, you found yourself in the living room a few hours later waiting for your brothers friends and their uncle to arrive, so you could leave and get the whole evening over with.

Meanwhile your brother was running around the room, jumping off the sofa pretending to fight invisible villains in his Batman costume. When the doorbell rang he immediately dashed to open it. With a sigh you followed your younger brother to the door.

In front of the door you found a handsome young man, who seemed to be around your age, maybe a few years older. He was their uncle? He could pass as their older brother. You were just staring at him for a while, completely dumbfounded, as your brother and his friends who were dressed as Superman and Spiderman were screaming happily while running around your front porch. "I'm Sangyeon." The man held out his hand with a friendly smile, since you didn't seem to show any intention of introducing yourself, just staring at him. His words pulled you out of trance and you shook his hand hesitantly, "A-ah, I'm Y/N."

Quickly rushing back inside to get out of that embarrassing situation, you went to grab your keys and some bags to collect the candy in. You didn't look in the mirror while heading out, but you were sure there was a blush spreading over your face. "Should we start?" you asked Sangyeon who was making sure none of the three boys were hurting themselves with all the energy they had.

"Nice costume by the way." Sangyeon remarked as you started walking. A nervous chuckle left your lips. Sangyeon was dressed up in a Suit and glasses a scratch adorning his handsome cheek, to look like Joo Dantae, a character from Penthouse.

His costume surely put yours to shame. Simply having taken an old bed sheet and cutting a hole in it to put your head through, to make yourself look like a ghost. You hadn't felt like dressing in anything fancy, because you had thought you'd be spending your evening with some old guy. It was embarrassing.

"It was very last minute. I was busy with college and all" You lied, excusing the poor choice of costume. "Yeah same, I had to lend this suit from one of my teammates." Sangyeon disclosed to you with a chuckle.

"Teammate?" You questioned, trying to get a conversation started to find out more about the boy you were spending your evening with. "I'm on the football team at my college.", he explained.

Turns out Sangyeon was going to a college that wasn't actually that far from yours. He was part of the football team and suddenly you were angry at yourself for never going to your colleges games, maybe you would have been able to spot him in the opposing team.

You were in different majors and he was already a senior, but it was fun to hear him talk about his experience in college and he was eagerly listening to yours. In between your conversation you made stops at different houses that your brother and his nephews were leading you to. Carrying the bags full of candy so the boys could run ahead.

After a while the younger one of Sangyeon's nephews grew tired of running around, yawning constantly, so Sangyeon simply swooped him up while continuing your conversation. It was cute watching how the young boy was starting to fall asleep with his head on his uncle's shoulder.

Eventually the other two kids grew tired of walking as well, complaining that their legs were hurting, Sangyeon started carrying them as well. His older nephew on his back and your on the opposite side of his younger nephew.

You had offered to help and carry your brother yourself but Sangyeon told you it was fine. He was strong, well he was an athlete after all.

The conversation between the two of you had died down, not wanting to disturb the boys that were falling asleep. You took this time to admire Sangyeon carrying the three kids. It was cute, he would probably make a great dad. "Where is his room?" Back at your home Sangyeon followed you to your brothers room to lay him down at the bed, before walking back out to his car.

"Wait let me help you." You offered to take one of his nephews and secure him in the children’s seat. "Thanks Y/N."

After both kids were secured in their seats Sangyeon gently closed the car door. You found yourself standing in silence, looking at each other under the dim light of the streetlights. "It was nice meeting you today Y/N." "Likewise."

It was awkward. Before you got to know Sangyeon you had wished for this night to be over as quickly as possible, but now you felt sad about parting ways. Watching him walk to the driver seat of the car you waved him goodbye from your position on the front porch.

He hesitated for a second after opening the car door, you wondered what was wrong when he suddenly turned around and walked back to you. "May I have your number?" He held out his phone to you nervously.

Your heart jumped with joy. He wanted your number! Did that mean he enjoyed the time just as much as you? With shaky hands you took his phone to type in your number. "See you soon." Sangyeon wished you goodbye for real this time by pulling you in for a short hug.

You watched him drive off with a shy smile on your face. Spending Halloween with the uncle of your brothers friends was not as bad as you had imagined.