#I've been awake since four in the morning

[the-ferrylady-of-death]

•It was concerning, to say the least, to see the Angel in such a state. It made her feel a bit worse, for their condition, for how she acted... the whole thing would probably be a sore spot to talk about. It would probably be best to give them space, or maybe it would be better to stay, give them company..•

•She couldn't ask, not while they rested. She needed something, perhaps a break from everything. The Angel would be fine if left alone for a little while, she could find somewhere else to go and calm down, reflect a bit maybe. She would return later, and properly apologize, she just needs to be alone for now.•

•So she left, almost reluctant in her steps, keeping quiet to not disturb the Angel.•

“… So this is where you disappeared to.”

(@the-ferrylady-of-death) (I saw people talking about the ferryman and had to stop by, hi!)

(OH GOD OH SH-)

“…Greetings, Lady Death.”

[They’d look at her, their halos spinning a bit]

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[milfsloverblog]

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 2 (part 1 here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: This took a while, but it's finally here. And good news, I've got most of part 3 written already! In this part, Larissa and reader enter the vicious circle of both thinking the other one don't want them like /that/. We might be in for some slow burn, people! Hope you’ll enjoy! <3

You startled awake, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead and an unpleasant, incessant throbbing between your legs. You had dreamt of her, again.

It had been four days since you’d met with Larissa, and you’d been having those wet dreams ever since.

It always started the same way, you’d go through the evening you’d shared at the restaurant, and everything was exactly the same except for what happened when she’d drop you off at your place. You’d invite her in and she’d agree to follow you. You’d barely have time to step into your flat when her lips would attach themselves to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh and making you lose all sense of time and space.

The rest of the dream would happen very quickly, Larissa would have you on any surface of your flat she’d see fit - which had included your sofa, the wall, the kitchen counter and your dining table. She’d hike up your dress and get rid of the lacy thong she’d bought you, shoving it inside her handbag.

“Don’t pout, sweetling,” she’d whisper in your ear, her slender fingers finding their way to your heat. “I promise to buy you more.”

You could only writhe and whimper as she teased you, her digits moving in excruciating slow circles on your clit until she’d decide you’d have had enough and would push two of her fingers knuckle deep inside you, making your breath hitch in a loud gasp.

Larissa’s eyes would never leave your face as she’d relentlessly pound into you. She delighted in the way the right corner of your mouth twitched with each thrust of her fingers, how your brows furrowed deeper and deeper each time she stroked that sweet spot inside you.

You would feel the coil tightening dangerously behind your navel, bringing you closer to your well-deserved release as you’d beg your lover to keep going. Please, Larissa, please, please, please.

And then you’d wake up. You’d find yourself staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, your core aching from another ruined orgasm.

You groaned loudly as you peeled yourself from your bed and headed to the bathroom, taking a single glance at your dishevelled form in the mirror before shedding your pyjamas and stepping in the shower.

How easy it would be, to slip your hand between your legs and give yourself the release that you’d been denied for the last four days. But it wouldn’t be right. You didn’t want this, whatever this was between Larissa and yourself, to turn into something sexual. She would provide you with money and you would provide her with company, as you had both agreed on. Nothing more.

Your phone buzzed on the bedside table right as you walked back into your bedroom to get dressed. You didn’t need to check it to know who it was, Larissa had been sending you good morning texts for the last few days.

You finished getting ready for the day before picking up your phone to read her message.

Good morning, darling. I hope you slept well! Have a good day. Xx

You were almost tempted to tell her you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days but eventually refrained from doing so.

Good morning! Slept okay, hope you did too. Have a lovely day :)

You shoved your phone into your bag and hurried out of your flat, knowing you wouldn’t be getting another text from Larissa.

She’d text you once in the morning, then once or twice around noon when, you supposed, she was on her lunch break. After that, you wouldn’t be getting any news until at least 6 pm. At least, because once she hadn’t texted you before 8. You still didn’t know what her job was, but you couldn’t imagine being up at six in the morning only to finish your day so late at night.

As expected, you didn’t receive any more text until your own lunch break. You were out at a local cafe with your best friend, munching on your sandwich when your phone buzzed on the table.

Thinking of you, sweetling. Xx

A blush crept up your cheeks which you desperately tried hiding by taking a sip of water, but it wasn’t lost on your best friend.

“Is that your woman?” She smirked.

“Larissa is not my woman.”

“Oh right, sorry. Is that your sugar mommy, then?”

“Shut your mouth!” You groaned, swatting your friend’s arm.

You had told her about your evening with Larissa. Well, most of it. You didn’t mention the lacy thong or the fact that she’d picked your food.

“You still don’t want to do it?” She snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Do what?”

“Her.”

You rolled your eyes and put your sandwich down, wrapping it in its paper bag to finish it later.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to feel like I’m selling my body for money.” You explained for what seemed to be the fifteenth time that week.

“Oh, come on! I would let a woman like her fuck me for free any time she wants.”

“Don’t be crass,” you said, shoving your sandwich into your bag. “Larissa is not like that, and neither am I. Now move, we need to get back to class.”

You typed in a quick answer to Larissa as you walked into your next class and sat down at your usual desk.

Thinking of you too. Wanna call tonight? I’d love to hear your voice and have a chat. No worries if not :)

Larissa was pouring herself a cup of coffee, her fourth that day, when she read your answer. You wanted to call her, to hear her voice. A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she sipped on her coffee and texted you back.

I would love that. I’ll text you when I’m done working. Xx

And so she did. You had been home for a couple of hours when your phone started ringing, making you run from the kitchen to the sofa to make sure you’d get it in time.

“Larissa! Hi!”

“Hello, darling. I hope it’s not too late?” Her British accent filled your flat as you pressed on the speaker button.

“No, no it’s not. Did you have a good day?” Truth be told, she did sound a little tired but you would never dare to bring it up.

“It was alright, not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She chuckled lowly, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s a good day now, though. It’s nice to hear you.”

“It’s nice to hear you too, I thought it’d be better and easier than just texting back and forth.”

“Mhm…” Larissa hummed and you heard the distinctive ‘pop’ of a bottle being opened.

“Wine?” You asked, earning another chuckle from the woman on the phone.

“Red. Just one glass to help me relax.”

She needed it. She really needed it after the stunt that Wednesday had pulled that day.

“I wish I could share one with you,” you said, hearing Larissa pouring the wine into a glass.

“Do you?” Her voice seemed to have dropped an octave, and you wondered if her nostrils had flared like they’d done back at the restaurant.

“Yes, yes I do. I’d let you pick the wine, of course. I’d watch you pour it and wait for you to bring the glass to my lips.”

Larissa let out a shuddering breath, suddenly feeling extremely hot in her shirt. Her fingers swiftly moved to take care of unbuttoning the constricting piece of clothing, leaving her in a white bralette.

“Larissa?” You called when she hadn’t answered for a while.

“Yes, I’m here, darling. Simply lost in my thoughts.” Larissa admitted before taking a sip of wine.

“Are you thinking of me again?” You asked, deciding to try your luck.

Wine dribbled from the corner of Larissa’s mouth, rolling down her chin to quickly drip onto her chest. It would leave a stain, Larissa thought as she watched the crimson liquid soaking the lacy fabric of her bralette.

“Would you like that? Me thinking of you?” She eventually answered after another long silence.

“Maybe, yes.”

There was another silent moment as Larissa took another couple sips of wine before placing her glass on the coffee table.

She sighed loudly, wanting nothing more than to hike up her skirt and let her fingers explore her sex. It was such a shame that you weren’t interested in being intimate with her, she would have loved to listen to your heavy breathing as you’d touch yourself on the other side of the phone.

“I want to take you shopping this weekend, if you’re free,” She eventually said.

“Shopping?”

“Lingerie shopping, specifically. I want to treat you to a couple of sets. Would you be interested in that, sweetling?”

“Yes! Yes, I would love that. I’ve never really been lingerie shopping before.” But you wouldn’t pass on such an opportunity.

“Good. How about you call your work tomorrow, and let them know you won’t be able to be there on Saturday? I’ll take care of you.”

You knew what she meant by that, she’d hand you another one of those envelopes filled with a couple hundred dollars.

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good.” Larissa sighed again.

She had emptied her glass, her right hand was groping at her body while the other one kept the phone pressed to her ear. She’d have to hang up soon, before she’d start fucking herself.

“Larissa?” You called again.

“Mhm? Yes, darling?”

“I should go, still need to take a shower and get everything ready for tomorrow… It was so nice to hear you, I hope we can do this again soon.”

“Any time you want, you only need to text me.”

“I will.” You promised. “Well, have a good night, Larissa.”

“Have a good night, darling.” She answered, biting her tongue as she thought of adding think of me.

You listened to her breathing for another second before hanging up and dropping yourself on your sofa.

God, that woman was hot. Her voice through the phone had made you soaking wet and it had taken everything within you to keep your hand out of your pants.

Back in her quarters, Larissa didn’t have as much self-control as you did. Her skirt had been hiked as soon as you had hung up, her legs parting to let her move her panties to the side.

“Oh, darling…” She breathed out as she eventually let her fingertips brush on her clit.

You had bewitched her, it seemed. If she didn’t know any better, Larissa would have wondered if you maybe were a siren.

The tall woman was halfway through fucking herself, the coil in her lower stomach tightening with each thrust of her fingers, when she suddenly realised how wrong this was.

She immediately pulled her fingers out of herself, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. You had made it clear that you didn’t want to have sex with her, and it wasn’t right for her to be touching herself thinking of you.

Larissa made her way over to the bathroom to thoroughly wash her hands, eventually opting for a full cold shower to clear her mind from any more sinful thoughts.

As you both got into bed that night, only a few miles away from each other, you both shared the same thought.

How on earth am I going to survive a lingerie shopping session with her?

———————————————————————

taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @anoymous614372 @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

[mooshkat]

i haven't watched the episode. don't really care to. but apparently eddie is looking at houses in el paso?? and i've always related way too much to buck and the way people in his life leave so much so.

listening to 'please don't go' by abbey glover while writing this is devastating btw. highly recommend to add to the hurt.

tw for suicide attempt. now on ao3.

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and then just...doesn't go home. He doesn't think as he drives, taking turns and just alert enough to be safe on the road, but honestly? He has no fucking idea how he ends up in the mountains, parking in the small dirt lot at the end of the hiking trail.

Everything feels numb. Static fills his brain and spreads down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

He turns off the Jeep and takes out the keys. Drops them carelessly into the cup holder.

He should've seen this coming, right? People leave; they always have, and always will. Everyone from his own sister to his ex-girlfriends, and his ex-boyfriend. Now his best friend.

There's just something buried deep into his very being, something built into the coding for Evan Buckley, that makes people leave him. No matter how much he clings and wants to fight for it, they'll walk away from him and his love.

It's him, it has to be.

Buck leaves behind his wallet, his keys, his work bag. Everything is left in the Jeep except for his phone, because no matter how much people leave him with barely a goodbye, it goes against everything that makes Buck, well, Buck to do it himself.

He knows this trail. Tommy and he have been on it before, once or twice after Buck dragged him along with him. They'd stopped at the top, where a small cliff overlooks the beautiful scenery with LA off in the far distance.

He remembers the way Tommy pushed him against a tree and sank to his knees, looking up at Buck with an adorable, bright grin with scrunches up his nose. Buck misses that grin fiercely.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Buck starts his walk. He doesn't go up the mountain with a specific plan in mind, didn't wake up to take Eddie to the airport at four in the morning, and think I'm going to kill myself today, but the higher he gets on the trail, the more he knows.

It's early enough that he has the trail to himself. That's good. It's not, he needs to turn around and go back to the Jeep, go home but his feet keep moving him up, up, up. There's nobody around who will have to see what he's about to do and be traumatized by it.

He's seen more than his share of deaths through work, he knows how badly it can fuck you up. He doesn't want to do that to someone else.

When he gets to the top, Buck stops and just breathes. The air is fresher up here, cleaner. It makes some of the buzzing in his head quiet down. He can feel his fingers again, feel the way his heart pounds from the cardio workout of climbing, and make his hands throb.

He walks to the edge of the cliff and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. There's a boulder a few feet away from the edge that holds memories of him leaning back against it as Tommy kisses him, holding Buck's hips with hands hot enough to brand him.

His very soul feels branded by Tommy. His chest aches every day, making his stomach sink with a homesick feeling he hasn't had since before he moved to LA. His apartment is still full of the baked goods that he creates every time he has to try to not call or text him.

He doesn't stop himself from calling him today.

Buck almost thinks it's going to go to voicemail before it's picked up at the last second.

"...Go for Kinard?" Tommy answers, clearing his throat. His voice is sleep-rough and deep, and Buck hasn't heard it in so long that it's like applying balm to very shattered, torn edges of a wound. "Hello? Who is–Ev—Buck?"

"Did I ever tell you," Buck starts, and he sounds just as rough, but he's more awake than he ever has been, despite the bone deep tiredness that fills him, "about the fact that I was made to be a savior baby for a brother I never met? My parents made me in a science tube so that they could use my bone marrow to heal my brother, Daniel, but it didn't work. I thought for a little while after I found out that it was because I was defective, but I get it now."

Sheets rustle on the other line before Tommy sits up again. "What are you talking about, Evan? What's wrong?"

Buck continues talking, bowling over Tommy's questions like he didn't hear them. "I think there's something inside of me that's toxic. Toxins drive people away, it makes them sick, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense for why everybody I love gets sick of me and leaves. It has to be me, right? Nobody stays, not forever. There's something wrong with me and I've finally figured it out."

"No, Evan," Tommy says, voice soft. He can hear the concern, though, the urgency hidden under his tone. There's the sound of jingling keys and a door opening and closing. Tommy's too far away to stop him.

"Sometimes, people leave. It's just what they do, it is nothing about you or what you've done. It's them. Their problems. My problems, that we should–we should sit down and talk about. Evan, where are you? I'm worried."

He almost doesn't want to tell him, but maybe it'd be better for someone to come out and collect his body so he doesn't ruin the trail. Leave it as you found it, or whatever. He gives Tommy his location and ignores the way it starts a mental countdown in the back of his mind. He doesn't have long now.

"It is me, Tommy. I want to believe you, but I can't. Not when hard evidence for almost my entire fucking life says otherwise. My parents emotionally left before I was even born. Maddie. Abby. Other girlfriends. I even lost the 118 at one point–thanks to that stupid mistake with the lawyer. Everybody leaves. And–and now with you, and Eddie. I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so goddamn tired."

Tears drip down Buck's cheeks. It's exhausting, viewing every relationship as a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, waiting for them to exit left out of his life. He thought things might be different with Tommy, it was one of his longest relationships, but he was wrong.

"You know, when you broke up with me that night, you said you'd be my first, but not my last. You were wrong. I-I love you so much, Tommy, even though you broke my heart. I hate you for leaving just like everyone else, but I also love you. You'll always be my first and last now. It's my turn to leave."

"Evan!" Tommy shouts into the phone and Buck cringes. "Evan, please, don't do anything. I'm on my way, okay, baby? Please just sit still and wait for me and we can talk–about everything. Please."

It'd be so easy to lean forward and let gravity do the work to drag him off the edge. The side of the cliff digs into the bottom of his thighs and he kicks his feet, knocking against some of the dirt and watching it tumble down.

His phone starts buzzing insistently in his hand with texts. Tommy must have sent out a message. He doesn't look at any of them as he pulls his phone to set it on Do Not Disturb before putting it to his ear again.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants the hurt to stop, he just wants it all to stop, but he's afraid. What if he's too weak to commit? Just like he's too weak to not let people back into his life, even if he knows they'll just leave again.

Weak and toxic.

He drops his phone onto his lap and hunches down, elbows pressing into his knees as he covers his face. He can hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

A strangled sob rips its way from his throat and he makes his decision.

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

There's an audible sigh of relief from Tommy. "Thank you, Evan. I'll be right there, okay? Keep talking to me, baby."

He doesn't know what to say anymore and tells Tommy as much.

"That's okay, Evan. I-I heard from Howie that you were baking lately? What have you been baking?"

Buck knows what's Tommy's doing. He's stalling so that Buck doesn't kill himself before Tommy and the first responders can get to him. He's done it dozens of times before to people on the edge while he's rescuing them.

"A lot of bread, really. Pumpkin bread, banana bread, butternut squash. I even, uh, have a sourdough starter that I've been feeding for a couple of weeks now. I named it Billy because it looks sometimes just like the, uh, boils I got from the curse when it expands."

Tommy lets out a watery laugh. "Of course, you'd name your sourdough starter." He clears his throat and the sirens are suddenly much louder in Buck's ears before they cut off abruptly. Quiet, rushed talking that Buck doesn't understand before Tommy starts running. "What else?"

"I made baked Alaska pretty soon after we broke up. It took me hours to make, and the entire time it was setting in the freezer, I had to bake other things to stop myself from calling you. I-I don't know if Chim told you that's why I started baking, but it is."

When Tommy responds, it's not through the phone. He comes to a stop beside him. "It sounds like your coping mechanism was more productive than mine, at least. Want to get away from the edge for me, Evan?"

He holds out his hand and Buck takes it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, yeah? What was yours?" The knowledge that Tommy was moping just as bad as Buck makes him feel...something.

"Eating entire pints of ice cream by myself on the couch while watching rom-coms." Tommy pulls Buck to his feet and wraps his arms tight around him. Buck can feel how badly Tommy is shaking. "Thank god you're okay. Thank you so much for calling me, Evan. Fuck."

Buck hugs him back and ignores the paramedics lingering behind him. He knows he's going to be taken away in the ambulance and put under a 72-hour hold because of this. He doesn't think about that, or what it means for his job when he's let out.

He focuses on Tommy and the way he clings to him. He came back. Sure, maybe he'll leave again when the initial scare of everything fades away, but it's more than most people have done in the past.

Tommy pulls away first and holds Buck's face gently in his hands. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and more spill over as he looks Buck over. "I love you too. I didn't say it earlier and didn't say it then, but I am now. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.

It doesn't fix everything, doesn't even scratch the surface, but it raises something dangerous in Buck's chest.

Hope.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hey, i've sort of a prompt in mind. The driver has a couple of shitty races and is frustrated and furious. The reader let's him use her so he can relax and take his mind off it. He does so and becomes pretty rough. In the morning, he's the first one to wake up and sees hickeys, red and irritated skin patches on her body. When she wakes up he starts to apologize.

It's probably too short for a fic, so maybe you can insert it in the ones you already have. It's up to you

Afterglow || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x wife!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, slight angst, roughish smut WC: 1.4k F1 Masterlist

The night had been humid, as it had all week, and your sleep was light and fitful as you tossed and turned in the sheets. Warm hands trailed up your bare legs and you sighed at the touch you had missed while Carlos was away. You suddenly startled awake remembering your husband wasn’t meant to be home yet but he caught you before you could hurt yourself scrambling out of the bed.

“Cálmate, mi reina, it’s me,” Carlos soothed as he felt your racing heart beating against his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It took a moment to relax but then you returned the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist while his large hand cradled the back of your head like he did when he needed to keep you close to him. Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled you onto his lap and kissed your forehead as an apology, one you happily accepted.

The sheer curtains swayed gently in front of the windows that had been left open all night to battle the summer heat. Beyond the balcony, the island was hazy in the watery pre-dawn light and the local fishing boats were just starting to make their way out of the bay before the tides changed.“You’re home early.” You pulled back so you could see the exhaustion in his brown eyes and you stroked his beard that he hadn’t trimmed since he left. “What’s wrong, guapo?”

He caught your hand and clutched it to his chest so you could feel his heart beating beneath it before he raised them to his lips to kiss the wedding band on your finger. “I missed you.”

Giving him a small smile, you kissed your way across his shoulder before climbing the thick muscles of his neck. “I missed you too, but that’s not why you look so sad.”

His sigh was heavy and deep, filling the four corners of the room and you pulled back to see his face. “I’m not sad, just disappointed. It was a bad weekend, amor.”

You peeked over at the alarm clock before grabbing the hem of the satin slip you wore to bed. His eyes followed your fingers as they drew the material up your body and he bit his bottom lip at the sight. “There’s still time to change that.”

“Yeah?” he asked as his hands roamed your body, his fingers digging into your skin. “You want to make me feel better, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed but it turned to a gasp as he nipped at your collar before kissing the mark he left. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”

His beard tickled your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way down your chest, nipping and sucking the skin until you whimpered his name with need. Shifting on his lap, you rocked your hips in search of friction and felt his own need swelling beneath you.

“Please, Carlos, I missed you.”

He silenced your begging with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing your lips open for him. His fingers were leaving their prints in your skin the way he held your hips tight and it took all his will power to pull away long enough to speak. “On your knees.”

Carlos didn’t even give you a chance to move as he picked you up and put you right where he wanted you in the centre of the bed. The comfortable clothes he wore for travelling were quickly discarded in a heap on the floor before you felt the bed shift under his weight and felt his hand caressing the swell of your ass. 

“I needed you with me, hermosa,” he said as he nudged your knees apart for him. “I needed you.” Your back arched as he curled two thick fingers into your cunt without warning, stretching you with the only patience he had before they were gone and his cock pressed to your entrance. “I need you.”

“You have me,” you moaned as he worked his length inside, inch by inch, until your fingers were grasping the blankets and your breaths were mere pants. “I’m yours.”

Carlos pulled you up off your hands so your back was flush against his chest and he reached around to roughly palm your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples until your cunt clenched tight around him. “Will you still be mine if I lose my seat?” his voice was low in your ear and you craned your neck to see the resentment in his eyes, something that had been simmering since the negotiations for his contract renewal stalled. 

Placing your hand over his, you pushed it down your body to the juncture of your thighs. “Always,” you promised as he felt the union of your bodies. “I married you for love, Carlos, not your job.”

“I might be out of it soon enough,” he spat bitterly and you felt his chest rising and falling rapidly and the heat of his breath on your neck. “Three. Fucking. Races.” His hips snapped against you with every word, stealing the air from your lungs, and you knew there was only one way to ease the anger burning in his gut. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you said as you reached over up and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging the strands as you gave him permission to use you as a vent for his frustrations. “It’s okay.”

His control snapped as he accepted your offering and you gasped as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Carlos had always loved to mark you, though not always this rough. He had liked to leave on his trips knowing that his touch and his kiss still lingered on your skin. You knew there would be a few marks come morning light.

When dawn finally broke you were in Carlos’ arms watching the coastal breeze dance with the curtains and finally bring with it some cool air. The wind was welcome on your hot skin where a thin layer of sweat coated both of your bodies where you lay entangled on the bed. The gulls were just beginning to wake with the day and their songs echoed along the beach in a peaceful lullaby that threatened to send you off to sleep.

“Mierda,” Carlos swore as the sun crested the balcony and bathed the room in its light. You blinked against the bright rays that had interrupted the dream you had almost reached and found your husband shaking his head. “Perdóname, mi amor.”

Your brows pinched in confusion and you looked up from the pillow you had made of his shoulder. “Forgive you for what?”

“This,” he whispered as he dragged a fingertip down your neck, the touch a little tender but not sore. “And this.” You followed the trail he danced along your skin and saw the deep red hickeys his mouth had made, the slight dents around your breast in the shape of his teeth and the light purple bruises of his fingers on your hips. “I’m so sorry, I got carried away.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Sitting up, you placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. You knew he would go down to the gym and spend the rest of his day there, running until he couldn’t move because he thought he deserved the punishment. “I can take everything you have to give, baby. I want it, I want to be the one who can make you feel better on your worst night. I want to be the one you can let yourself go with.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said after swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” you said with a smile before leaning down to capture his full lips that were begging to be kissed. “It was quite the opposite.”

“Yeah?” he asked as his eyes traced your curves and he saw your nipples begin to peak beneath the heated gaze. You bit your lip and nodded, giggling when he pulled you on top of him. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Carlos, you’re ruining my afterglow,” you murmured as you kissed his jawline and felt the echo of the burn of his short beard between your thighs.

Rolling over, he pinned you beneath his body and you felt his heavy length against your hip as he stared down at you, the love still as strong as the day you wed. And just like that day, he made a vow, “I promise I can fix it.”

[chasedbyatlantic]

flawless, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — joel miller comes to you hurt and in pain, after realizing that you are the only one that he can find peace with - you're there to welcome him with open arms.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, boston qz era!joel, gender neutral!reader, no use of y/n, frenemies to lovers type trope, angsty to fluff, mentions of blood/injuries/death (lightly mentioned), joel being so sappy i love it, swearing, cute ending. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.9k

a/n: i hope u love this as much as i do. i've been meaning to write it for a while, and it's a bit of a diff style from my writing but i love how it turned out! make sure to reblog, like, comment and follow for more! xoxo

—

It had to have been three in the morning by now. When Joel said he was going to be at your place by seven, you believed him. He was a man of his word after all - or at least ninety nine percent of the time he was. He had told you this morning that he was heading outside of the walls after his shift at the "graveyard" (the nickname given to where the bodies of infected were burned), and he would be back just after sunset. You had protested to join him on his well-travelled route, but he had forbid you from going with him. Despite not going with him, he had promised to swing by your place once he was back and drop off any goods he may have scavenged while out.

You weren't sure why he wouldn't agree to let you come, it wasn't like he was your father, or brother, or boyfriend - you guys were friends. Sure, the two of you had hooked up every so often, but that gives him no right to make decisions for you, about what you can do or where you can go. It's the zombie apocalypse for Christ sake, you can do what you want when you want.

You had been up for an extra few hours, it was way past the time you would usually be asleep. You were waiting for that knock on the door, you were waiting for the bickers on why you were awake and waiting for his return, you were waiting for Joel. In all honesty, you weren't sure why you were up. Maybe it was the thought in the back of your head that he was dead, or stranded alone somewhere far outside of the walls.

You had to shake those gruesome thoughts out of your head as you were forced up and toward your window, having to close it due to the newly started rain. As soon as the window was shut, the sounds of pitter-patter were echoed through your entire apartment, the only thing it did was put you on edge. He was probably at home, you thought to yourself, thinking it was too late to bother you and that he would see you first thing tomorrow. You could only hope for that.

You had decided it would be best to go and sit down on your sofa, the one in front of the TV that hadn't worked for twenty something years. It wouldn't hurt you if you remained up for the next little bit, just in case. In case there would be a knock on your door, in case he showed up. You took a seat on the well weared in part of the sofa, kicking your shoes off and cuddling up to the blanket covering the arm. It wouldn't hurt you if you stayed up waiting with your eyes shut, would it?

It was a quarter to five when a few sets of knocks went off at your door. You had shot up from the light rest you had fallen into, mentally cursing yourself for not being able to stay up. Was it Joel? You really shouldn't be caring this much about him, or this situation. You were sure it wasn't anything serious, but this is what friends do for each other, right?

You had gotten up as quick as you could, tripping over your shoes and almost face planting on the ground. Without spending any time to worry about it, you moved over to the door. Whoever it was on the other side, Joel or not, mustn’t have heard you make your way over to the door since there was another set of desperate knocks. It felt like an eternity while you undid all four locks, before swinging it open.

Your eyes could only fall into the gaze of the grey ones in front of you. You weren't sure if he was crying, or if the paths under his eyes were extra watery from the torrential downpour happening outside (though, you wouldn't question him about it). Your eyes had scanned over his saddened face, to the puddle of water beneath his shoes. Your hand had automatically found its way to cup his cheek, your thumb running over his skin as gentle as possible, "Fuck, Joel."

You could feel him soften his muscles when you did this, despite his facial expression remaining neutral, "I gotta come in." He had mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You had immediately dropped your hand from his face, and moved out of the doorframe, allowing Joel to enter. It was only when the dull light from your candle lit lamp engulfed Joel that you could really see what had happened to him.

A black eye, a busted lip, small bruises littered around every masculine feature he had. You were going to kill whoever did this to him. "I got clothes that'll fit you, hold on." You had turned and shuffled your way into your room, digging through the drawers when you had reached them. You had a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you, but would most likely fit Joel. Before leaving the room, you swiped a shirt that was laying in the pile of clean clothes off to the side.

You emerged not long after, seeing the barely-clothed man remove his last sock off his right foot. You two were past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, you had learned to adapt due to the many years spent surviving together. As you walked past Joel, toward the kitchen, you shoved the clothes into his arms. You wanted to give him a little privacy, so he could hold onto his pride, if he managed to have any left.

Making your way into the kitchen, you immediately got out a mug from your tiny mug collection, and turned the gas-powered stove top on. Placing the mug beside the stove, you had brought over a little pot and dumped an entire bottle of water into it. It didn't take long for the water to boil, so once it was done, you immediately put it in the mug labeled "World's Best Boss" and started to scavenge. You hadn't opened the box of tea you were looking for, you wanted to save it for a special occasion. Tonight was special enough, right?

You had found it after a moment of searching, taking a packet out of the box and moving back over to the living room. Your eyes fell on the emptiness of the sofa, the man nowhere to be found. He couldn't have left, you didn't hear the door open or close. Just before you were going to call out for him, he walked out of the darkness (his limp more noticeable than before). "Put the clothes'n y'ur bath tub, didn't want the floor all wet for ya' to clean." His voice was hoarse.

You shot him an almost unapologetic look as you placed the mug down, dropping the tea bag inside. "Stop worryin' 'bout that, now sit down and let me help." For once in his life, Joel Miller kept quiet and did what you told him. You had wished it would be under different circumstances, but a win is a win. "Now," You began, "I know you like coffee, but this was all I could find."

It had to taken Joel a moment before he realized that there was a warm drink waiting for him, his nose too stuffed to have taken in the scent. It had been a while since Joel had something warm to drink, a while since someone's cared enough about him to make him something like that. Even though he despised any sort of drink other than coffee (and water, of course), he would not complain about this. Not now, not ever. He reached forward for the mug, carefully bringing it back to his lap. "Best boss, hm?"

You could only giggle as you were now opposite of Joel, instead of being on the couch, you had pushed it away and were digging on the floor. Months ago, you had figured out there were two layers of wood that divided you and the person who occupied the apartment below you. That space served as a cubby, so you figured why not use it for its purpose? "You're gonna be jumpin' with joy, Joel Miller." He looked puzzled, trying his best to ignore the immense pounding that came from everywhere in his body. That's when he caught glimpse of what you were holding, headache medicine.

Sure, headache medicine was some measly little thing that probably didn't work as well as it used to anymore, not many people would bat an eye at it before the apocalypse. But now, it was gold. People were sentenced to the firing squad if any guard in the QZ found out about medicine that wasn't recorded, since it was so scarce. "Why the fuck do you have that?" Was all Joel could say, forgetting about himself for a moment, and worrying about you. That's what friends do, right?

"For emergencies like this." You had gotten up from the floor, kicking the wooden plank back into its home before moving over to Joel. You had opened the cap, taking out four. Four would send you into the doctors office if you took them before they expired, but since they expired twenty years ago, they only worked half (if you were lucky) of what they usually would. You had reached out for Joel's hand and placed the pills in there, "Drink tea with'em to help them go down easier."

He listened to you, silent for a moment. After he had swallowed the mouthful (literally) of pills, he broke silence. "I don't want you runnin' 'round'n gettin' shit like that." He was referring to the pills, "You know what happens if ya' get caught." How could even talk this much with a busted lip, you thought to yourself. You repeated the 'if ya' get caught' part to him as you slipped away once more into the kitchen.

Joel called your name out a few times as you left, leaning farther back into the couch each time. By you talking to him, he was distracted. Distracted from the crushing headache, the horrible tension that rose to his lips every time words were escaping from his mouth, the pain throughout his body. He would tell you what happened, when you came back, but only if you asked.

You returned with a small bowl and a rag, something to clean up his face (and anywhere under the clothes he may want cleaned). You sat down beside Joel, on the sofa, "Lay down." He looked confused, not really understanding what you had meant. Not wanting to waste anymore time with those open wounds leaking every so often, you grabbed his shoulders and forcefully (yet carefully) brought him down so his head was rested in your lap.

You could tell that it hurt Joel when you did that by the small grunts he had managed to let escape his lips. You didn't mean to hurt him, not at all, but you couldn't deal with any bickering if he decided to start now. "So, Mister Miller," You began, dipping the rag into the bowl, "How did you get your shit rocked so badly?"

He wasn't impressed by the way you put it, shooting you a quick glare, "Runners." Was all he said. Runners? How could runners do this to him? A million thoughts ran through your head, but you quickly cut yourself short. "Are you-" Joel knew what you were asking, was he bit? "No." He responded, a bit too quick, before continuing his short, yet descriptive, story, "Was with a few people ya'dunno, came across Runners out in a building, they all turned on me'n tried to get out." He paused for a moment, "Four'o them plus two runners on me, would've killed 'em myself if the runners didn't get 'em first."

You could tell Joel was hesitant to tell you, thinking you would see him as weak. No, far from that actually. You could only think highly of the man laying in your lap, for he's how you were thriving in this apocalypse. You brought the dampened rag to the gash on his cheek, he jumped as it was alcohol, and not water, "Don't beat yourself up too much for it," Joel flinched at the stinging sensation, "Your secret's safe with me."

Joel had crossed his arms, his hands brushing past your thighs. You felt as if they lingered too long, maybe it wasn't a passing matter. He's comfortable with you, you know that. This is what friends do, right? You had assessed the other wounds on his face, almost all disinfected completely. The bowl of alcohol now having a slight red tone to it.

After a moment, Joel broke the comfortable silence the two of you were in, "I shouldn't have came. Wastin' all y'ur supplies'n all." This didn't impress you, so Joel had earned a slight slap on his shoulder. "Just let me take care of you, god dammit. How many times have you done it for me?" He was silent after that, knowing. Countless times, after roudy street fights for ration cards, Joel had cleaned you up. Cleaned the blood from your face and stitched the deep gashes that would appear. You were only returning the favour, because that's what friends do.

"Plus," You added now, "we can just scavenge more stuff the next time we take a vacation from this place." If you taking out medicine for him didn't piss him off, this sure as hell did. Without thinking, he reached forward and grabbed your wrist, the wrist that was cleaning up his purpled lip. "Ya' ain't goin' out there, not now, not ever." You had shooed his hand off from you, brushing the comment off, "Can't protect me forever, boss. What's a little fun anyway?" You shouldn't have had the playful grin on your face, but you couldn't help yourself.

Joel could only give you an unhappy look, knowing that you couldn't be stopped with it, as much as he might've tried. He wasn't in the mood to fight you, he wasn't ever really in the mood to fight you. Joel had sat up without a warning, almost causing whatever was left in the bowl to go flying. This earned a whack from you.

"Uhm, ow." He muttered, maybe you shouldn't have done that, added to his pain and all. "Gotta get goin', though." He didn't want to say that, you could tell. It was the tone that he said it in. You could only meet his gaze for a moment, "Stay the night." When someone was hurting like this, how could you say no. How could you turn your best friend away, and let him go home, when he wasn't okay?

You weren't expecting Joel to agree to stay, or at least not cave in without any convincing. It was strange, really, he was acting different. It had to have been the drugs that you had given him, you thought to yourself, maybe it had something that made you nicer to the people you're close with.

You had helped the man up, and left the dirty rag on the table. That was tomorrow (well, when you woke up)'s problem. You took his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, helping him walk better. You would mother him about his limp and legs when he was recovered. Joel was holding onto you as he moved in sync with you to your room.

Once you got there, you had let go of him. He looked at you for a moment, before turning away. "Can ya', uh, help with my shirt?" He asked. You could only nod your head, maybe a bit too quick for your liking. "Yeah, o'course." Then, following what you just agreed to do, you grabbed the hems of the shirt Joel was wearing and helped to slide it off of him. This is what friends do, right?

You tried your best not to stare, you really did, but the marks on his chest pulled you in. After taking a moment longer to let your eyes linger, you pulled away and helped him under the comforter. "I'll take care'o those tomorrow." You had turned to make your way the door, to sleep on the couch, to give Joel as much space as he could. He grabbed your wrist, though, before you were able to get too far from him. "Can you, er, stay?"

Joel wasn't looking at you when he asked that, he was looking anywhere but. You wanted to stay, really did you, but you felt like you couldn't. "Listen, Joel, I want to, bu-" You were cut off by him interrupting you, "Please." Please. Joel Miller doesn't say please. This took you almost by shock, but you tried not to show it. You only nodded your head, and moved over to the other side of the bed.

You could feel Joel watching your every move, but you didn't care at this moment. You removed your pants, but kept your shirt undergarments on. You would call today a day of victories, not for Joel, but for you. He had listened to you so much, and didn't fight it. You wish it was under different circumstances, but a win is a win. You knew he wasn't up to his usual par, but it still counted.

It happened with a blink of an eye. First you were hesitant to get into the bed with him, not wanting any mixed signals to be sent at the current moment, next you were laying right beside him, and his current good arm wrapped around your waist. If Joel was happy, you were happy. The sounds of rain made it better, made it more peaceful for Joel. He could relax, and take his mind off of the pain he was feeling. This is what friends do for each other.

—

flawless, the neighbourhood

[realcube]

dilf december

day five ⭑ shota aizawa ⭑ coffee shop au!

tw implied age gap, mentions of heart failure & brief mentions of suicide

dealing with hyperactive kids all day is tiring. so, as a strategy to help him get by, aizawa will pay a visit to his local coffee shop on his way to work, and orders a sweet pastry along with a caffeinated drink.

not only is a nice treat, but that little bit of sugar and extra coffee gives him the energy he needs to stay awake through the whole day and complete his extra duties too. it's a nice routine he's found himself falling into, popping into the cafe every day of his working week, and occasionally trying out new desserts.

something else that has made him particularly excited for his daily pastry, is the new hire who has recently started serving him. he's been frequenting this cafe for around two years, and for the most part, it was a nice old lady that would be behind the counter. however, for the last week or so, it has been someone else.

a someone else who happens to be a treat for his eyes, while he buys a treat for his stomach.

today, he's headed to work a bit early to grade some papers before class. naturally, during his walk to the train station, he slips into the cafe first to begin his morning routine.

he was only half-surprised to see you standing behind the counter again, hair thrown into an updo, covered by a puffy hairnet, which he could tell you weren't pleased by wearing. though he's never seen someone look so cute in one before. as for your uniform, you wore a white blouse under an apron with the cafe's logo on it, tightened at the waist to highlight your gorgeous figure.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, which made things a bit awkward when you address him, while he's lost in his fantasies, "welcome. are you ready to order?" you ask, offering him a weak smile.

he blinks, raising his eyebrows as he is suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. "hm," he crosses his arms over his chest and approaches the counter, scanning over all the delicious options kept in the adjacent display case. "a croissant, please."

"okay." you hum, tapping that through the system, "and would you like a drink?"

"yes. a triple espresso."

you raise your eyebrows, then explain with a polite smile, "we serve doubles as standard here, so that would be the equivalent of six shots of espresso. if you prefer, i could give you a double which is equivalent to four sh—"

"six shots is fine." he says bluntly.

"uh," you stammer, quite caught off-guard by the man's resounding certainty. "do you happen to be a teacher?"

he quirks a brow, and can't help but smirk a little at your observation, "yes. highschoolers."

"i would've guessed elementary kids." you snicker, idly fiddling with the tassles of your apron, "i don't think i can, in good conscience, serve you six shots of coffee in one drink."

"really? the other lady would serve it to me, no questions asked." he says, in such a dull, matter-of-fact way that you can't tell if he was being sarcastic.

"she also still thinks smoking is good for you, so she's far from a health guru." you joke, and feel quite pleased with yourself as the man cracks the tiniest smile in response, "you usually get a double, don't you? i could do that for you. that would be four shots."

"i've got an early start today; i could use the extra energy."

"well, i don't want you dying of a heart attack, so will a double be okay?"

"for an old guy like me, heart failure is inevitable anyway. may as well enjoy the coffee while i'm still alive." though his inflection sounds serious, you can tell there is a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"well, you'll have a lot more time to be alive and drink your coffee if you stick to a double." you argue, eyes fixed on the screen as you ring up his total, "that'd be a thousand yen."

he hands over a single note, you process it and then start preparing his drink at the espresso machine. since he is the only customer in the store, in order to combat the awkward silence, you intend to engage him in conversation. and fortunately, he strikes it up first, "a double will have to do. though if i fall asleep mid-class, i'll let them know who to blame."

"i have a feeling you were going to do that either way." you tease, entirely joking, however aizawa is stunned momentarily at how you're able to read him like an open book.

"i see you've somehow found a copy of my lesson plan." he says in that indecipherable tone of his.

"i did. and you glad you're only having four shots of coffee? otherwise, you wouldn't be able to nap." you explain perkily, pouring the brew you made for him into a to-go cup and fitting a lid onto it.

"you'd be suprised." it was now aizawa realised how strange this was. where ever his colleagues tried to engage him in vapid small-talk, it filled with the burning urge to blow his brains out, but now he was not only enjoying a surface-level conversation, but going out of his way to participate in it. with a complete stranger, no less.

"oh, i must be dealing with a professional napper." you muse, giggling to yourself as you use the tongs to pick up a croissant for him from the display case and put it into a paper bag. once that was all done, you wrapped it up, placed it on the counter alongside the coffee and gestured for him to take it — but not without slipping a little something into the bag first.

trudging over to the counter, he picks up the coffee and bag in one hand, and uses the other to get another thousand yen note of his pocket and slide it over to you.

"sir, you've already paid." you correct, motioning for him to keep his money.

"this is your tip." he clarifies, leaving it on the counter for you to take, as he turns around to head out, "you're a sweet girl for caring about the health of others."

as he says that, he doesn't make eye-contact with you, but just as he opens the door to leave, he glances over his shoulder and casts you a gentle smile, which you reciprocate.

it did worry him slightly that he may have came on too strong in that interaction, but his worries were put to rest on the train, just as he was about to start eating his pastry, but lying atop it is a napkin with a note scribbled on it:

'if you're okay with double espressos for the rest of your life, my number is written on the back :P'

[spacebaby1]

I'm OBSESSED with the way you write Mom!reader and make them fics so soft my heart could burst with love and the fluff 😭can you please please write a mom!reader with her 4 boys yuji, Choso, Kechizu and Eso (because no one mention them in the fics😔) like a cute fluff rushed morning with the kids and few extra fluff please?

Aww, you're the sweetest! Thanks for reading!

Being a mom of four boys wasn't an easy job especially when you were rushing in the morning to get them out and ready for school. You were making breakfast in the kitchen when your husband Kento came downstairs with his two boys; yuji and Eso in his arms, they are both in middle school, your two nine years old were giggling and talking to the their dad as be sat them on the couch and walked towards you to kiss you on the head. "Morning love, let me finish this and go rest." He took over to make the breakfast. "Is cho awake?" You asked putting your hair in a bun walking out of the kitchen. "I think he's up, baby." you kissed your babies as they played on the couch and before heading upstairs your teenager son just came out of the room, "morning ma, please tie my tie I can't do it." You took the tie from his hand and tied it for him, "Morning sweets, don't forget to take your bento it's in the fridge and-" you looked down from the stairs. "Yu, Esoo?" Both your sons looked up at you, "breakfast then get ready boys, come on come on. It's late."

"I'll get them ready ma," Choso said and you kissed his forehead. Hearing your husband bringing the breakfast for your sons as you entered the nursery room to find your two years old baby boy, kee awake and happily jumping when he saw you entered the room. "Hey, baba. Aren't you excited to be awake this early, come here." You grabbed him out of the bed and went to change and feed him. After you were done feeding him you went downstairs to find Yuji and kechizu in their uniform. Choso and Nanami eating breakfast while talking about something, you grabbed the comb and hair tie, "your hair is getting too long baba" you told your son as you combed his hair while he ate. "Really? I've been using this new shampoo dad got me." He seemed excited growing his hair out and you chuckled, "my little rockstar, you wanna look like your dad when he was in high school?" Nanami laughed at your sentence, "He's your mini me, right cho?"

Your son happily nodded with a huge smile making you chuckle and kiss his head after you finished tieing his hair up, "my sweetheart boy. You look like me but you're as sweet and a gentleman like your dad." Choso smiled at your husband happy to be compared to his father since he looked up to his father a lot. "Mommy, do I also look like you?" Yuji asked taking a bite of his pancakes. "Me too, Mommy?" Eso joined in. You ruffled their hair, "of course you two do my superstars, come on now. Time for school."

Choso got up before gathering the empty plates and cleaning them, "ma, I can take Yu and Eso to school on my way," Choso said before heading to his room and grab his backpack. "I'll be home early today, okay love?" Nanami got up and kissed you before giving you a hug, "you're the sweetest mama to our boys, thank you." You smiled, "and you're the best father to our boys, work now, before you make me cry!" He chuckled and kissed your forehead and his two boys as the waved at him. Just in time Choso got to the front door to hug his father before Nanami left. "Come on buddy, yu, eso let's go," Choso hugged you. "Take care, loves."

Both Yuji and Eso waved at you before heading out of the door.

[lucy90712]

Ruben Dias fluff!! Any thing you want, I trust you

Having kids is the most stressful and rewarding thing I've ever done but I wouldn't have it any other way. The biggest downside is that Ruben doesn't get to be around as much as he's like to as he's always got training or matches but when he's around he always spends every second helping me or playing with our oldest son Milo even if he's tired he treasures every second he gets to spend at home with us. 

Since I gave birth to our daughter Ruben has barely been home he got a couple of days off training and then it's been all go since. There has been matches every weekend and then champions league during the week so he's hardly been home which makes life difficult. Caring for a newborn and entertaining a two year old on little to no sleep is exhausting but Ruben helps where he can and he even gets his brother to come over when he's not around which is a great help. 

This weekend Ruben finally has a few days off after such a packed schedule Pep gave all the players a couple days off training to rest and recuperate ready for the next run of games. Rest isn't a thing in our household right now but I don't think Ruben minds he just wants to be home and actually spend time with the kids. I know he feels awful that he hasn't got to bond with our daughter Alice as much as he'd want to as he's not here during the day when she's awake and looking around but I always send him pictures and videos so he feels like he's involved too. 

Just like every morning I expected to be woken up at the crack of dawn by a toddler screaming in the baby monitor and a newborn crying right next to my head. When I woke up and saw that it was nearly 9am I freaked out and then when I saw that the baby wasn't in her bassinet I nearly had a panic attack. That's when my sensible brain took over my mum brain and I realised that Ruben also wasn't in bed next to be so he must have Alice and that made me feel so much better. After I calmed down I got out of bed and headed downstairs where I could already hear the chaos which is weirdly nice to hear. When I finally made it downstairs I saw Ruben in the kitchen holding Alice while trying to make pancakes and with Milo at his feet. I took Alice from him quickly so he could focus on breakfast but before I knew it I was also holding Milo as he's definitely a mama's boy and he doesn't like to leave my side when I'm around. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in you didn't have to do that I know you're tired too" I said 

"You don't have to thank me I know you don't get much sleep and you need it to deal with those two I get to sleep when I’m away for matches so it's only fair that you get to have a lay in" he said 

"Well I still appreciate it I feel like a new woman now" I laughed 

"Good and I've got breakfast all ready for you" Ruben said while handing me a plate of pancakes 

We ate breakfast as a family or our version of eating as a family which is taking a bite of our own food every few minutes after having to cut bits up for Milo and sometimes having to feed it to him when he refuses to eat. Then more often than not Alice seems to sense when I'm eating and all of a sudden wants feeding so I have to eat with just one hand. Ruben had managed to get Milo to eat all of his pancakes while I still had a mostly full plate as I was feeding Alice so Ruben switched his attention to me and cut my pancakes and fed them to me like the perfect husband he is. 

To spend some quality time together Ruben suggested we go to the park and seeing as I've got him to help me I had no reason to disagree. He took care of getting Milo ready while I got Alice ready and we made it out the house as a family of four for the first time which sounds crazy as Alice is three weeks old now but Ruben's been around so little we haven't had the chance to go anywhere all together yet. Leaving the house is never easy but eventually we got out the house with me having Alice in the carrier and pushing the stroller while Milo walked as he refused to get in the stroller. 

The walk to the park isn't a long one so we got there pretty quickly and when we did Milo took off and made a beeline straight for the slide as he loves going down the slide. Ruben followed close behind while I found somewhere to sit with Alice as she was due a feed before she naps again. Watching Ruben play with Milo made me a little emotional hearing Milo laughing as Ruben chased him around the park is exactly how I pictured parenthood there is no better sound than hearing your child laughing it always fills my heart with joy. Milo can be difficult at times which I think comes down to missing his dad but I couldn't care less about that when I get to see the two of them happy and playing together. 

"Mama come play" Milo said as he ran over to me 

"I would love to play with you buddy but mama's still recovering I can push you on the swing if you'd like though" I said 

"Yeah let's go mama" he said running off again 

I gave Alice to Ruben so I could push Milo on the swing which he thoroughly enjoyed he wanted to go higher and higher until I physically couldn't push him any higher. As he was swinging Ruben started to pull faces at him from across the park which only made him laugh more. This is exactly why I think Ruben is the best dad he has always been so great since the moment Milo was born our kids just love to be around him as he always makes them happy. It wasn't long before Milo wanted to get out of the swing so I got him out and he dragged me off to the rest of the play equipment which I wasn't going to go on as I'm only just three weeks post partum but I just can't say no to him. We climbed up the climbing wall and ran around the little castle type thing it brings you to before going down the slide which was more than enough for me. 

We stayed at the park for a while longer until Milo had run out of energy and climbed into the stroller himself. Ruben took the stroller which now also had Alice in too and held my hand as we walked back home. Both kids fell asleep in the stroller so Ruben and I kept walking even when we went past the house so they'd known stay asleep and we could have some peace. We decided to walk into town and got some fresh bread and other things to make lunch when we got back home. As soon as the stroller stopped Milo woke up and wanted to get out so Ruben unbuckled him and off he went to play with his toys. 

Our afternoon started out much the same as our morning with us trying to get Milo to sit still long enough to eat lunch and then we went straight back to playing. As a family we all played with Milo's trucks and cars in the little world he's created where they all have a role. The things kids come up with is just fascinating their little minds are so creative. Before Milo was born Ruben and I spent countless evenings wondering what kind of personality he would develop but I would've never predicted that he'd be such a character he's always making me laugh with the things he comes out with but he's also such a kind little boy he always thinks about me and his sister. 

After a long day of running around and playing the kids were definitely tired and of course right after dinner Milo cuddled up to my side and fell asleep while Alice slept on my chest and Ruben had his arm around my waist as I leant against his shoulder. We took a few moments to just relax and enjoy the calm as that doesn't happen often. Eventually Ruben picked up Milo and took him to bed and I was going to put Alice in her bassinet and grab the baby monitor but he told me to stay put and he'd do it and I wasn't going to argue. He did exactly what he promised and then he came back to bring me upstairs as he'd started to run me a bath. 

I enjoyed my bath very much it was so relaxing I could feel the tension in my muscles that had built up over the last few weeks just disappear in the warm water. When I got out Ruben had pyjamas ready for me on the bed which I changed into and joined him in bed. He pulled me into his arms and started to press kisses all over my face which I've missed so much as I either sleep alone while Ruben is away or we don't get a moments peace as Alice has always been fussy at night. Tonight everything was quiet and it was amazing Ruben and I could enjoy some quality time together which we haven't had in a couple months. 

"I don't know how you deal with this all day everyday I'm exhausted" Ruben said 

"You get used to it some days they are calmer than others I think Milo was just excited you were around" I said 

"I'm sorry I haven't been here more I know the kids miss me but I can tell you miss me too even if you want say it" he said 

"It's ok I know why you aren't around it's not like you're out with friends while I'm here with two kids and yeah I miss having you here but that's selfish so I don't mention it" I admitted 

"Its not selfish you're allowed to feel like that and wish things were different I understand that things are hard and you'd like me to be around to help more that's not selfish I promise" he said 

"Everything is worth it though when we get moments like today and when Milo gets to watch you play on tv the hard moments don't matter anymore" I said

"I can't wait for Alice to come to her first game even if she doesn't remember I still remember when you first brought Milo along that was up there with one of the best days of my life" Ruben said 

"Maybe once we've both had our six week check up I'll bring her along to a game but we'll need to get her some little ear defenders" I said

"Of course but remember if you aren't ready you don't have to stick to that I'd much rather wait until you'll actually have a good time as it's supposed to be a good memory for all of us" he said 

We talked for a bit longer before Ruben turned a movie on and I knocked out within a few minutes as I didn't realise how tired I was but I fell asleep feeling completely happy and fulfilled.

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller x reader) PART FOUR

okay wow, so since the last chapter i've somehow hit 200 followers and have received so much lovely praise for this fic ;-; you guys have no idea how much i appreciate it. life has not been going great for me lately and having this outlet + such a great response has been such a bright light for me. i can't thank you all enough. i'm estimating that this fic will probably end up being six parts total, so look forward to those! i'm also open to writing requests & suggestions for other fics so feel free to send me an ask anytime! without further ado, here's part four :) PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink, (slight) dirty talk, grinding, handjobs, fingering word count: about 6.5k (yup)

You awoke in the early hours of the morning and slowly opened your eyes, hints of sunrise trickling through the cabin window and illuminating the dust that danced around the room. It took a few seconds to reconnect yourself to the new location, your gaze shifting to the chair in the corner of the room that still held yours and Joel's coats. Your lips parted in a breathless realization, the memory of last night flooding into your mind.

“I've got you,” he'd murmured, “Keep goin', don't think about it.”

You stared at the coats, heart racing as you remembered the way he'd held you so close to him while you came completely undone, helped you rut against him until you got what you needed, til he gave you what you needed. The way he'd groaned in your ear when you brushed against his groin, whispered “good girl” to you like it was a secret.

You swallowed, feeling the familiar throb in your underwear, recalling the thick strength of his thigh between your legs...

A rustle of movement behind you brought you back to the current moment, and you finally registered that Joel was still in bed with you, spooning you from behind again, arms wound comfortably around your torso. You couldn't help but smile and without any hesitation you shuffled back further into his embrace, tilting your head back slightly so he was nosing your hair.

You heard him hum softly, arms tightening around you. You looked down and felt your skin get hot when you saw how large his hands were, one placed atop your belly while the other had snaked its way up to your sternum, almost between your breasts. He was so strong but he held you so tenderly, forearms freckled with nicks and cuts that made your heart ache; you wanted to kiss every single one.

“You awake?” you whispered, not too loud in case he was still sleeping.

He gave you an affirming grunt but didn't actually say anything, the tip of his nose tickling the back of your neck. You shivered and leaned back even further so his body was fully enveloping yours, savouring the moments before he was fully awake and would inevitably pull himself away from you. You felt something prod at your lower back and you froze, breath hitching.

Guiltily you remembered falling asleep ridiculously quickly the night before without helping him find his own release, meaning he must have fallen asleep absolutely aching. You'd felt how hard he was while you were on top of him; it must have been torture for him to watch you have the best orgasm of your life and then pass out without so much as a thank you. That torture was seemingly still ongoing, the shape of him firm and stiff against the swell of your ass.

Well, it wasn't too late to thank him now.

Hesitating for barely a moment, you began to rotate your hips, slow and steady, pushing back against the hard feeling of him through his jeans. You felt his arms suddenly stiffen around you, brow furrowing against the back of your neck.

“What are you doin'?” he murmured.

“Nothing,” you pushed back even further, feeling the unmistakable pulse of arousal in your own jeans at the sound of his voice.

He was definitely fully awake now, and as he went to move his arms you reached up to hold them back in place, hands atop his own.

“You don't have to-”

“Shhh,” you ground yourself against him a bit harder and you felt him gasp, breath warm against your skin, “I want to.”

It didn't take much for him to surrender completely to the feeling of you being so close to him, inhaling and exhaling unevenly in your ear as you continued to rub your ass against his groin. Your hands loosened on top of his and he took the opportunity to move the one that was on your belly and carefully slide it inside the confines of your shirt, palming the skin there. You whimpered at the contact, grinding yourself even harder against him.

The silence of the cabin, the stillness of the air outside in the early morning light, it gave you that peculiar feeling of being somehow present in the world but also not. It was so easy to pretend when you were alone with him, so easy to feel like you were both the only souls to exist on this post-apocalyptic plane of America, of planet Earth. The only sounds in the entire world were the hitches of breath, the soft whispers, the quiet moans and whimpers that the two of you made together, melting into one.

“Feels so good,” he whispered breathlessly in your ear, nuzzling his face against your cheek. Without needing to ask, you reached blindly behind you for his belt buckle, pulling at the cold square of metal.

“Take this off,” you breathed, stilling your hips momentarily, and he removed his hand from your sternum to reach down and start to undo it, brushing against your fingers with every motion. When he'd pulled the leather from the straps you helped him to yank the long strip of material out from underneath the both of you, tossing it to the floor. You felt him pop the button on his jeans and your hand began to shake on it's own accord as you reached for his zipper.

He stopped you, enveloping your hand in his before you could tug it down, “You sure?” he asked softly, “We can stop-”

You suddenly flipped over so you were facing him, and your heart stuttered when you saw the look on his face; he was wrecked, eyes dark and blown wide, forehead tinged with sweat, splotches of red blooming along his neck and collarbone. It had been so dark last night, you hadn't been able to see what Joel looked like when he was turned on. Now as you looked at him and saw the desire in his eyes, the bob of his Adam's apple as he gazed back at you and swallowed, the way his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, you felt any and all hesitation leave your body. You gripped his zipper with your thumb and forefinger and slowly began to pull it down, the room still quiet save for the sharp sound of metal coming undone in your fingers – it was practically pornographic. He kept his eyes on you, lips parted as he tried to get his breathing under control.

His underwear became exposed, framing the long and thick curve of him perfectly. You heard his breath hitch when your knuckles brushed lightly against him as you finished with the zipper, and your eyes snapped back up to find his again. He was still staring at you, watching your expression, gauging your reaction. Without breaking eye contact you moved your hand up to cup him gently, palming his girth and feeling your face get hot when you realized your fingers wouldn't even go all the way around him.

“Oh wow,” you whispered, voice squeaking a little bit as you stroked him once through his underwear, “You're big.”

He groaned in response, closing his eyes finally and throwing his head back against the pillows. You couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, fingers trembling a little bit in anticipation, “Can I take it out?”

He physically shuddered at your words, jaw tightening as he brought his hands up to his face. He pressed his palms against his eyes, inhaling deeply, “Yeah,” he replied, voice shaky, “But I won't last long.”

“That's okay,” you whispered, reaching for the band of his underwear.

BANG.

Your heads snapped up immediately, both of you freezing as you stared at the closed bedroom door in confusion.

“Joel, you in this one?” Ellie called out from the opposite side.

You both flung yourselves away from each other like you'd been electrocuted, toppling out of the bed like you were in a Saturday morning cartoon. Joel yanked the zipper of his jeans back up and you threw him his belt, then pulled yourself up from the floor to stand wordlessly across from him. You both stared at each other for a few seconds as he did himself back up, eyes wide in panic.

“Joel?” Ellie called again, followed by your name, “Anybody in here?”

“Gimme a sec,” he replied loudly, voice deep and rough, “Gettin' dressed. You alright?”

“Yeah, just wanna go to the springs. I'll wait outside,” she called back, and you heard the front door slam again.

You looked at each other, both still panic-stricken. After a few seconds of shocked silence you reached down and grabbed your pack, throwing it over your shoulder, “You go out front and lead her back toward her cabin, I'll sneak into the one next door.”

“That works” he replied breathlessly, eyes scanning you up and down, “Listen, I'm sorr-”

“No, I'm sorry, I didn't think she'd be up yet,” you tossed him his coat and gestured toward the bedroom door, “Now go, before she gets suspicious.”

With one last parting glance, Joel shrugged his coat on and turned on his heel to leave, shutting the bedroom door behind him and leaving you standing alone. It was only when he was gone that you fully allowed yourself to feel the weight of what you'd almost just done, your hand clenching around nothing as you stood in the centre of the room trying to catch your breath. You'd touched him; you'd basically asked if you could give him a hand job and he'd said yes.

There was no question anymore of whether or not he wanted you, that was for sure. But whether you'd talk about it or he'd broach the subject again was completely up in the air. This thing you shared – whatever it was – you hadn't spoken one word about it to each other. He wanted you, sure, but in what way? Did he just want you to touch him, for you to get him off like he got you off? Or did he feel something deeper for you, something strong and warm like you felt for him? How were you even supposed to figure out what exactly he wanted when you hadn't even had one conversation about what had been going on? You clenched your jaw, shaking your head and inhaling the stale, dusty air; you didn't have time to think about this right now, you had to get yourself into the next cabin without Ellie noticing. The last thing you needed was for her to start asking questions about a relationship you yourself couldn't even define.

You did your best to quietly leave the cabin, slipping stealthily into the one next door when you were sure Joel had led Ellie back up the path. A few minutes later you walked out onto the front porch with heavy footfalls that made them both turn to look, yawning loudly on purpose and waving in their direction.

“Morning, losers!” you called, “Let's go see some hot springs!”

-

It turned out that in her excitement for the springs Ellie had woken up much earlier than the two of you, which explained her sudden appearance this morning. Out of boredom she'd meticulously organized all the products you'd found the previous day into piles, resulting in each of you now carrying your own personalized bath-care bag as you set out for the springs. You rummaged through yours, smiling at the strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner she'd chosen for you; you'd told her once, maybe about three months back, that you loved strawberries. The fact that she'd remembered made your heart warm. She'd also packed you an unopened women's razor and toothbrush, along with some body wash and a towel.

“You trying to tell me something?” you teased, waving the razor in her face as the three of you walked down the overgrown path to the springs.

She laughed and reached into her own bag, pulling out an identical razor, “Just that I need you to show me how to use this thing. My pits are itchy as fuck.”

Joel chuckled at that, “Try having five times that amount all over you.”

His comment immediately sparked the image of that patch of hair that trailed from his belly to his groin, the hair you'd become very familiar with in the past few hours. You swallowed and adjusted your pack absentmindedly, trying to focus on Ellie's retort.

“You could use a shave, honestly,” she was saying, making a face, “Who knows what's living in all that shit.”

“Oh, ha ha, you're hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and slowed his pace a bit to gesture to his own bag, “If you really thought I needed to shave you would've packed me a razor too.”

“Okay, true,” she conceded, “But that's just because I was scared you'd shave off your beard and I don't want you to. You'd look weird without it.”

“I agree,” you said, probably a bit too quickly, and he turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow, “What? Beards are hot.”

It had slipped out before you could really think about how it would sound, and you saw the flash of something on his face that didn't last long enough to register. It was hard to read the expression that remained but he suddenly turned back around before you could get a good look. You looked at Ellie and she was eyeing you with her own unreadable expression.

“What?” you asked, feeling your cheeks go red, “They are, right?”

She scrunched up her nose in response, “I think I'm the wrong person to ask, sister.”

-

The springs could not have been more picturesque; there were two of them situated atop a small cliff face that overlooked the forest below, patches of snow covering hints of the rocky terrain. One was large and wide, probably big enough to comfortably fit thirty people, while the other one was more secluded and separated by the tree line for those seeking a more private experience. Without hesitation Ellie sprinted toward the big one and dipped her hand inside, jaw dropping when she felt the undeniable warmth of its depths.

“It's actually like a bath!” she called to you and Joel in delight, “Holy fucking shit!”

Joel turned to you and smiled, eyes reaching yours and capturing your full attention for a few seconds. It was the first time he'd made full eye contact with you since you'd left the cabin, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at the memory of what had occurred between the two of you in bed, your hand on him and his eyes on you. The way he looked at you now, it was like he was trying to tell you something, but you weren't sure what.

“So how we doin' this?” Ellie interrupted, appearing at your side once more.

“What do you mean?”

“Well if we're actually gonna get clean we're gonna have to take our clothes off,” she made a face at Joel, “And no offence but I really don't want to see you naked.”

“Ellie,” Joel admonished, rolling his eyes, “Obviously you'll both stick to one and I'll stick to the other, which one do you want?”

“Whichever one is more shallow,” she replied immediately.

“Oh shit, right, you can't swim,” Joel's brow furrowed and he looked at you again, “Watch her, make sure she doesn't drown herself.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” you gave him a salute and he made an exasperated face.

“You're both ridiculous.”

Ellie grinned, “Thank you, so are you.”

“I'll test the small one, see how deep it is,” you shrugged off your pack and walked through the line of trees to the more secluded spring, leaving Joel and Ellie to squabble playfully behind you.

This one was definitely more tranquil than the large one, the thick greenery almost entirely muting the sound of Ellie bothering Joel beyond the treeline. The water was clear and still, a hint of steam rising like a halo above it. Anticipation of the promised warmth overtaking you, you kicked off your boots and unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them off and wincing at the sting of cold air that hit your skin. You climbed into the water without much hesitation and sighed deeply in satisfaction at the way the warm liquid lapped against your bare legs.

You took a few steps until you were almost to the centre of the spring, then had no choice but to lift up your shirt as the water became level with your abdomen. You kept your bra on, reminding yourself that as much as you wanted to just completely engulf yourself in the water with no inhibitions whatsoever, Ellie came first. Your feet still touching the rocky bottom, you reached the centre and grinned: perfectly safe, no drowning risk in water this shallow.

“We'll use this one, Ellie!” you called through the trees, not wanting to extricate yourself from the water now that you were used to the heat. No one responded and you huffed to yourself, cupping your hands around your mouth, “Come use this one!”

The shuffle of boots and rattling of gear broke the quietness of the clearing and you froze when you saw both Ellie and Joel appear, the latter stopping completely in his tracks when he saw you standing in the middle of the spring wearing nothing but your bra and underwear, t-shirt hanging from the back of your neck. Your eyes locked onto his, lips parting in surprise. You hadn't expected him to come with her.

“Awesome!” Ellie was already unzipping her coat and throwing it to the ground, reaching for her boots, “Joel, leave, I wanna get in.”

She seemed completely unaware of his genuine shock behind her, still standing there looking at you with wide eyes. Unconsciously you felt your mouth close and your lips turn up into a smile, not breaking eye contact as you continued to stand there with your bra completely on display. It's not like it was anything special, just a basic white sports bra that had gradually yellowed a bit over time, but you doubted Joel had seen a woman this bare in months, not since Tess. You watched as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your breasts and back to your eyes again, like he was self conscious about what he saw there.

You looked down at your chest and you felt your heart stutter a bit when you noticed that your bra had gotten slightly wet, your nipples peeking through the semi-transparent fabric. So that's what was making him so flustered. You looked up at him again and smiled wider, sheepishly, flirtatiously. His face had turned bright red.

“Joel,” Ellie finally turned to look at him, sounding exasperated as she finished untying her laces, “Leave.”

His eyes broke away from you and he cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding to Ellie and taking a few steps back, “Yeah, sorry. I'll uh- I'll be in the other one.”

You watched him go, unable to stop smiling as he tripped a bit in his rush to clear the area. You couldn't get over the fact that it was you that had him all hot and bothered, his hard exterior cracking away more and more the longer you allowed yourself to be close to him. Maybe he held the cards when it came to the definition of your relationship, but when it came to sex... yeah, you definitely had the power.

-

The spring was heaven; you hadn't bathed in hot water since you were back at Tommy's, and even then you'd only been able to take a quick shower. Now you revelled in the feeling of getting clean, the smoothness of your skin after you took the razor to the hair that had been slowly getting thicker around your ankles, the silkiness of your scalp after you'd masked it in conditioner. After showing Ellie how to use her razor you'd both turned away from each other, sitting on opposite sides of the spring to fully unclothe yourselves and bask in the luxuriousness, pretending you were both completely alone. The only sounds filling the clearing were the occasional splash of water and the birds chirping throughout the trees, calm and welcoming.

After a long period without conversation, Ellie spoke, “So you and Joel, huh.”

You froze, “Um, what?”

You could practically hear her roll her eyes, “I'm not an idiot. I see how he looks at you.”

Despite being shocked by her apparent knowledge of the situation, your heart skipped a beat at her comment, “H-how does he look at me?”

“Like he wants to jump your bones.”

You spluttered a bit, completely unsure of what to say and hating that you couldn't turn around to face her. Instead, you shuffled forward and grabbed the towel she'd packed for you, wrapping it around yourself.

“Put your towel on so we can actually talk properly,” you said, wincing at the squeak in your voice.

“I'm already dressed,” she replied, and you spun around in confusion. She wasn't lying; she was no longer in the spring and had somehow slipped back into her clothes without alerting you. She was sitting against one of the nearby trees, doodling in her journal.

“How long have you just been sitting there?”

“Maybe ten minutes, my skin was getting all wrinkly,” she scrunched up her nose, “It was gross.”

You wrapped the towel firmly around yourself and exited the water, walking around the edge of it barefoot until you reached the place where she sat. You seated yourself on a nearby rock, wracking your brain for what exactly you were going to say. She just kept doodling, eyes on the paper.

“What are you drawing?” you asked awkwardly.

“Nunya.”

Your brow furrowed, “What?”

“Nunya business,” she looked up at you then with a sly smile and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Okay, book down, we need to talk.”

She sighed but obeyed, closing her journal and turning her full attention to you.

“Me and Joel, we've been.... well, there's something...” you scratched at the back of your neck, “He... him and I, we...”

Ellie made an exasperated sound, “You're together, just say it.”

You winced, “We're not, though. That's the thing. Nothing's actually happened.” It was a lie but you couldn't very well tell a fourteen year old that you'd almost gotten to third base with her pseudo-father this morning.

“But you've like... kissed.”

You looked at her sheepishly, “Uh, no. We haven't kissed.”

She seemed genuinely surprised by that, raising her eyebrows in confusion, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

You sat there for a few seconds in silence, Ellie seemingly lost in thought for a moment before she spoke again.

“But you want to kiss him, right?”

You blushed, “Uh, yeah.”

“So what's stopping you?” her face suddenly became serious, “It's not me, is it? 'Cause I don't care, really. Like yeah it's kinda awkward but that's just because we're all so close to each other all the time, so if you needed me to disappear for a little bit I could. I mean, I've been trying to give you guys your space at night, you know, and-”

You put your hand up, eyes going wide, “Stop. You've been doing what at night?”

She stared at you like it seemed obvious, “I've been sleeping further away from you guys so you could have some time alone together.”

You stared, mouth popping open in disbelief.

“Why else do you think I vetoed the 'let's all stay in one cabin' idea last night?” she picked up her journal again and flipped to a specific page, then began to read aloud: “Sleeping in the cabin with the duck sign tonight. The lovebirds are in the sheep one, I think. Joel is so predictable.” she closed the book again and looked at you with a guilty smile, “I told you, I'm not an idiot.”

You just continued to stare at her, mouth open.

“Come on, it can't be that surprising.”

“Um, yeah,” you finally spoke, leaning back on the rock and throwing your hands up in the air, “We literally thought you were traumatized.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together, “By what?”

“By that...that...” you didn't want to say his name, “That monster. The guy from the resort.”

She nodded slowly, processing your reply, “Him? I mean... yeah, I guess that makes sense,” her brow furrowed, “but honestly, I don't think about him much at all, not unless I have to. He's not worth my time.” She looked at you again with a shrug, “I think I've seen too much shit at this point for anything to actually fuck me up that bad.”

Your expression softened, “Ellie, that's not something to be proud of.”

“I know, but it's helpful.”

You sighed, bringing your hands to your face in defeat, “Joel is gonna kill you, you know. He's been so worried about you, we both have.”

“Eh, he'll be fine. He's about to get a girlfriend, right?” she gave you a shit-eating grin, “Can't stay mad too long when he's gettin' some.”

You made a face and swung your arm at her, slapping her shoulder lightly, “Okay, you're not allowed to say shit like that.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up, tossing her journal back into her pack, “I'm gonna head back to the cabins if that's okay. I'm starving and that Chef Boyardee stuff is calling my name.”

“Okay, just let me get dressed and I'll-”

She put her hand up, “Nope, you're staying here. I saw how much you were enjoying the springs, you should get back in and relax a little while longer.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you saw? We've been facing away from each other.”

She stared at you, mouth closing into a firm line as her cheeks began to flush a bright red.

“Ellie, were you drawing me?”

“...I gotta go,” she threw her pack over her shoulder and began to run back down the path, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape, “I'll save some for you!”

“Ellie!” you called after her, “I hope you know we're gonna have to talk about this!”

“Can't hear you!”

“ELLIE!”

“Get back in the water, loser!” was the last thing you heard her say as her footfalls faded into the trees.

Exasperated, you pulled yourself from the rock and dropped your towel, turning around and flopping into the warm water. You weren't even going to bother trying to process that information right now.

Instead you just let the water claim you again, floating on your back and closing your eyes as it rocked you gently back and forth. You basked in the peace for about a minute before you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the brush.

“Ellie, I don't have my towel on,” you warned, rolling over to stand in the water, covering your chest with your hands, “I thought you were-” You froze when you saw who had actually emerged from the treeline.

“I heard yelling,” Joel practically gasped out, standing there completely frozen.

He was wearing absolutely nothing except for his jeans, which he'd seemingly haphazardly yanked on in his efforts to get to you quickly. They weren't buttoned, hanging off his hips loosely and exposing the hair that lay soft against his pubic bone, trailing upwards past his stomach and to his now visible abdomen and chest. His skin was taut, goosebumps tickling his bare flesh from the cold air, his nipples – framed lightly with grey hair – peaked and hard. Your gaze finally reached his face and his eyes had gone dark, lips parted with puffs of hot hair escaping his mouth with every breath. He was staring at you, not even bothering to try and hide the way his eyes fell to your chest, almost like he could see past the hands that cupped your breasts.

“She's gone back to the cabins,” you said quietly, almost too much so that you thought he might not hear you, but he did. He took another step toward you.

“Is she okay?” he practically whispered.

“Yeah, she was just giving me some alone time.”

His eyes trailed slowly down your body to where your skin met the water, where it lapped at your belly, leaving the other part of you that he clearly wanted to look at invisible beneath.

“Jesus Christ,” he took another step, “Look at you.”

You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly vulnerable as his gaze penetrated you. You felt yourself start to throb beneath the water and you crossed your legs unconsciously as he brought his eyes back up to look at your face.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, taking another step, “Tell me to go and I will.”

You shook your head slowly, “Don't go.”

He stopped at the edge of the water, his expression suddenly pained as he peered at you, “I mean it,” the words were a murmur now, almost impossible to hear, “If I get in with you... if I-” he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, “If you don't want me, you gotta tell me now.”

“I want you,” you said it immediately, earnestly, voice barely a whisper, “Please.”

Keeping his eyes on you, he reached down and slipped out of his jeans, throwing them behind him. Your heart began to pound as he entered the water, eyes staying locked on his face, knowing full well that he was now completely naked but too nervous to look down at him. Instead, you slowly brought your hands down from your chest, your breasts on display to him as he traipsed through the water toward you. You expected his gaze to fall, but he never unlocked his eyes from yours, not even when he was suddenly standing directly in front of you.

“Say it again,” he whispered, and you felt his hand at your waist, gently brushing the skin there; you shivered.

“W-what?” you were completely intoxicated by his closeness, the musky smell of the body wash he'd used suddenly the only thing you could sense, surrounding you in a cloud of pure masculinity. He was so tall, so broad, so strong. You could barely think straight.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed.

Instead of giving him a vocal response, you reached down between the two of you and felt for the firm length of his cock beneath the water; he was hard, long and solid at your fingertips. You wrapped your fingers around him as far as they would go and watched as he fell apart beneath your touch, brow furrowing in pleasure as he groaned, guttural and low. You leaned your head forward and buried your face in his warm chest, his coarse hair brushing against your cheeks.

“I want you,” you repeated against his skin, slowly dragging your hand up and down his shaft, shuffling closer so you felt the hot tip of it against your bare thigh, “Want you so bad, Joel.”

“Fuck,” he practically whimpered, and you felt his hand come up to cradle the back of your head like he'd done last night, holding you to his body, “Just like that, baby, just like that.”

You whined at the name, shivering when you felt his other hand press flat against your lower back, pulling you even closer to him. The head of his cock prodded at your lower belly and you couldn't help but look down, watching it breach the surface of the water, wide and dark. You stared at it, felt yourself literally begin to salivate as he fucked your fist, crossed your legs together even tighter when you looked up again to see that he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wrecked.

“This is what I wanted to do this morning,” you said softly to him, voice shaking slightly as the hand that wasn't on his cock trailed down his chest, “Just wanted to make you come, like you made me come.”

He made another throaty sound, the hand that had cradled your head moving down to cup your ass, “Fuck, I loved watching you come,” he moaned, squeezing one of your cheeks gently in his palm, “Prettiest thing I ever saw.”

You blushed, continuing to stroke him as you both breathed heavily and felt the warmth of the water, the warmth of each other completely overtake you. You pressed your forehead to his chest again and crossed your legs impossibly tighter.

“Don't do that,” he whispered, hand moving down beneath the water to grip your thigh, “Don't hide from me, not now.” Without any convincing necessary, you uncrossed your legs and allowed him to slip his hand between your thighs, thumb pressing gently against your clit. You moaned breathlessly, biting down on your lip. “Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you whimpered against his chest as you felt his thumb rotate tenderly against the sensitive nub. His fingers were so thick and wide, everything about him was thick and wide. You could already feel yourself starting to fall apart when he ever so gently pushed his index finger inside of you, making you physically shake, “Joel.”

“That's it,” he murmured, “Love it when you say my name,” you began to stroke him faster and he grunted, deep and loud, “You were sayin' it in your sleep last night, do you remember?” his finger was now fully sheathed inside of you, hot and tight, “Moanin' it. Was I in your dream, baby?”

“Yes,” you whined.

“What was I doin'?” he carefully began to push his middle finger inside of you alongside the index, the stretch burning you slightly in the best way possible, “Was it like this? My fingers? Or was somethin' else deep in there?” he thumbed at your clit again, making your mouth pop open.

You couldn't remember the specific details of the dream you'd had, the one that had ended with you waking up riding Joel's thigh, but you could remember the main gist of it, which was pretty much exactly what was happening right now. It was almost too good to be true, too crazy similar to be reality. For a moment you feared you were about to wake up again, but then Joel slowly began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, and you knew this feeling had to be real.

“I don't remember,” you whispered into his skin, “But you were there, you were holding me close like this in the water,” you gripped his cock tighter in your fist, “Didn't want you to let me go.”

“I'm not gonna let you go, baby,” he murmured, breath hot in your ear, “I'm right here, never leavin'.” His breaths were becoming more frantic, erratic; you knew he was close. And so were you. “God, your hand feels so fucking good around my cock.”

His words were almost as penetrating as his fingers, and you gasped when you suddenly felt his other hand at your breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. You bit down hard on your lip again, keening at the overwhelming sensation of being so desired, so claimed. He mirrored your moan, eyes closing as he gently tweaked your nipple and squeezed your clit at the same time, making you clench around his fingers.

“I'm coming,” you managed to gasp out, hand stilling on his cock, “Oh god, Joel.”

“Come for me, pretty girl, show me,” he whispered breathlessly, “Show me how good it feels.”

You shook in his grasp as you felt your release overtake you, legs tightening again as he continued to relentlessly thrust his fingers in and out of you, thumb flicking wildly at your clit as you rode it out, repeating his name over and over like a mantra. You managed to start moving your hand on his cock again before your orgasm had ended, wanting to give him a similar release as he watched you come undone with his fingers. You heard him groan loudly and you opened your eyes to blearily watch as he finished in your fist, his come spurting above the water and along your fingers before disappearing into the water below. You closed your eyes again and whimpered as he carefully removed his fingers from your core, pulling you in close and burying his face in your neck.

“You're perfect,” he groaned against your skin, “Jesus, that was good.”

You laughed breathlessly, releasing him from your fist and bringing your arms up to wrap around him, palms pressed flush against his back in a warm hug. He hugged you back, and your eyes widened slightly when you felt him press a few small kisses to the space between your neck and shoulder, tender and gentle.

“My girl,” he murmured, and you felt tears suddenly sting your eyes, “Don't want anybody but you, you hear me? Nobody.”

You shut your eyes tight, holding him closer, “I don't want anyone else either,” you whispered, voice shaky with emotion, “It's just you, only you.”

He pulled back to peer down at you, and you were surprised to see that his eyes were also shining with tears, mirroring yours. He brought his hands down to your waist, thumbs stroking your bare skin as he smiled softly down at you.

“I'm gonna kiss you now,” he whispered, breath hitching a bit, “If that's okay.”

“Of course it's okay, dummy,” you replied with a smile, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, “Been waiting for you to ask me that for weeks.”

He chuckled at your words and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his beard rough but welcome against your chin. You kissed him back just as soft, hands stroking up and down his back soothingly as you gave yourself to him, let him take what was rightfully his. He held you tighter as he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, giving you your favorite crooked smile.

“Sorry it took me so damn long.”

[sturniololoco]

Sinceeee you said you needed more requests; I was wondering if you could write a Matt x fem reader. The idea being, y/n isn’t having a good Valentine’s Day just because of life, (her potential period), stress from YouTube and more. And she comes home to find her shared bed covered with Valentine’s Day related gifts. Snacks, plushies, flowers, the whole 9 yards. And it is nothing but cute and fluffy all around (I am severally single and I love the fluffy fics more than anything)

Be My Valentine?

Matt S. x fem reader

Warnings: Kissing, lovey-dovey stuff, fluuuuuuff, etc.

Note: I kinda altered this a bit since I got so many different requests for this one, but I hope you enjoy it!

y/n's POV

Valentine's Day is always supposed to be about showing how much you love and appreciate the friends, family, and potential lovers in your life.

Not working a 15-hour shift at IHOP since one of our waitresses called out. Not to mention I'm on my period, and finding time to change out a tampon while on the clock is harder than you think.

The amount of heart-shaped pancakes with whipped cream and sliced strawberries is insane.

Not to mention the horrible tip job. I've barely made 10 bucks in tips, and I've been here since four o'clock this morning!

-

The rush had finally slowed and I was cleaning the tables, scrubbing fast so I could go put all the dirty silverware in the sink before our next rush.

y/n! Get outta here, your shifts done!" My jackass of a boss yelled at me from his office.

"Finally..." I sighed under my breath, grabbing my purse and keys from the back, then slowly dragging myself to my car.

I practically threw my purse into the passenger's side seat, then climbed in myself. I rested my head against my steering wheel for a solid 5 minutes before starting the car up and backing out of the parking lot.

-

I walked into the house I shared with my boyfriend Matt and his brothers, but for the first time in forever, the house was silent.

I put my keys, purse, and apron on the kitchen island before walking to Matt and I's room, in desperate need of climbing into bed beside my boyfriend.

I rounded the corner and slowly opened the bedroom door so as not to wake Matt.

But what I saw made my jaw drop and my heart flutter.

matt was awake, sitting next to a beautiful display of Valentine's gifts. There was a beautiful bouquet of red and pink roses, a box of chocolates, a card, and a little basket full of different makeup products you've been wishing for.

You felt little tears of joy well up in your eyes as Matt's adorable little voice said,

"Happy Valentine's Day baby!" He held his arms out, displaying his beautiful work to me.

I quickly recovered from my state of shock, running over to him and wrapping my arms around his neck in a bone crushing hug, knocking him back down on the bad.

He chucked as I excidedly sqeeled,

"Thankyouthankyouthank!" I kissed him all over his face, showing how my gratitude was filling my body.

He quicly grabbed my hands and held them, giving them a squeeze.

"So, I have a question." He said, his voice getting serious.

My smile dropped at his tone, but lit back up again as he smiled and said,

"Will you be my Valentine?"

-

Just some cute little fluff for this special day! Happy V-day y'all, I love you!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

[bitethedevil]

A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Read this fic on AO3

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Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: I've been wanting to write a Modern!AU with this bastard since forever. Here we are. It's not entirely a Modern!AU but that will make sense later. Warrning: This fic contains some heavy subjects such as substance abuse, dementia, death, homelessness, and mental illness.

Tav was lying on the couch, sipping a beer and scrolling through apartments listings on her laptop.

She was utterly fucked.

Finding an apartment was hell. It hadn’t been easy when she first moved out four years ago with her boyfriend either and that had been with two incomes. She was a university student with a shitty low paying job as a cleaning lady on the side. 

Though she couldn’t live at her mom’s place forever. They were driving each other insane. She needed to get as far away from that woman as humanly possible. Her mom was constantly in her business, and it was driving her up the wall.

She huffed and shut her laptop with a smack after yet another disappointing search. Everywhere that she could afford rent, the deposit was so expensive that you could almost buy a small house for it outside the city.

She placed her laptop on the coffee table and gave up for the day. She grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and pulled it over her. Her eyes closed for another back-breaking sleep on her mother’s couch.

Tav stirred awake when she heard her mom come home in the morning. The door was slammed, the keys clinking loudly as they were thrown on the table in the foyer, and of course she made sure to crinkle the bag in her hands as loudly as humanly possible. She did it on purpose to wake her up.

“It’s noon, darling,” her mom shouted from the kitchen. “You shouldn’t sleep all day, it will give you a headache.”

You give me a headache, Tav thought before reluctantly opening her eyes. She grabbed her phone on the coffee table and pulled out the charger to check the time.

“It’s nine in the fucking morning,” she groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“Yes, but I want to go about my day, and I can’t do that with you snoring in my living room.”

Tav sighed at the cheery yet incredibly condescending tone.

She had really not missed living with her. Especially now that she seemed to have changed so much with her ‘staying positive’ bullshit and playing caring mother all of a sudden. It was somehow worse than when they just yelled at each other like when she was a child.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Coffee?” her mom asked from the kitchen.

“Sure,” she replied.

“I have something for you,” her mom continued from the kitchen. “A really nice man contacted me on Facebook, and we met today to talk about you.”

Tav closed her eyes and took a deep, tired breath.

“Remember when we had that talk about online safety and pyramid schemes a little while ago?”

“Yes, yes,” her mom said. “But this isn’t like that. This is about your living situation. I saw pictures and everything. This is perfect for you, and it’s very cheap too.”

“Mhm…”

Her mom came around the corner with a cup of coffee for her. Tav forced a smile and muttered a ‘thanks’ as she took it.

“There’s pictures.”

“You mentioned…”

Her mom sat down in the armchair beside the couch. She grabbed her reading glasses from the table and pulled out her phone. Tav watched as she struggled to use it.

“Do you want help?”

“No, I got it,” she replied, “Oh, here. Look.”

Tav squinted at the screen as her mom showed her picture after picture. Tav smiled and then burst into laughter.

“Mom…” she said. “This is such a scam. That is literally a manor, not student housing.”

“No, listen,” her mom protested. “I met with the owner, and it’s real. All the parts of the house I just showed you have been made into apartments. It’s perfect, Tilda. There’s nature around and it’s far away from the city…”

So that you can’t get into trouble with your connections in said city, was what she really meant. So that you can’t contact your drug-dealing, deadbeat ex-boyfriend who you lived with for four years…who you still love but can’t be with because you can’t handle being near drugs at the moment.

“…It’s beautiful, and it has so much history. The owner told me. You wouldn’t have to think about a thing, since there is everything you could ever need there. There’s even a little shop a short walk away, so that you don’t have to worry about taking a bus to get groceries! Isn’t that great?”

“Okay, okay,” Tav said and held her hands up to stop her. “Let’s play your little fantasy game and say that this place is real, which it is not…”

“It is real,” her mom stated again. “It’s a part of this Hope program or whatever he called it.”

“Right, whatever,” Tav said. “How would I even get to my lectures if it’s in the middle of nowhere? What about my job?”

“There’s a little bus that drives the residents to the nearest bus stop,” her mom continued in an excited tone. “How do you think the other residents get around? Besides, he told me that some of the other people living there just work at the manor. So, you would only have to leave to go to your classes.”

“Feudalism is alive and well, I see. How wonderful…” Tav mumbled and sipped her coffee. “I don’t know, mom. This so clearly seems like a scam, especially if you say that it’s cheap.”

Her mom sighed in frustration.

“I will have the nice man call you,” she said. “I can send him your number and then you can talk with him yourself. You can’t stay here forever, darling. Give it a chance.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She knew that she would have to do it in order for her mom to shut up about it. She had gotten her stubbornness from her, unfortunately.

“Fine,” Tav grumbled and sipped her coffee. “Give my private phone number to some scamming weirdo then. I’ll talk to him.”

Tav was sweeping the sticky floors of the kindergarten she cleaned in when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. The number wasn’t one she recognized. She picked it up and then put it on speaker before laying it on a table. She was the only one in the building anyway and she had to finish her work.

“Yeah, hello?”

 “Do I have the pleasure of speaking with Tilda Avon?” A deep, smooth voice rang through the phone.

“You do,” she replied. “Who is this?”

“You are speaking with Raphael, the owner of the Haven estate,” the voice spoke. “Your mother informed me that you might be interested in knowing more about our House of Hope project.”

The name made it sound like it was some weird program for stray dogs or orphans. She rolled her eyes.

“Sure,” she said in a forced, friendly tone. “Though I’m currently in the middle of work, sir, so if I could get back to you, that would be lovely.”

“I will keep it brief then. I was calling to ask if you would not rather see the estate for yourself? I have an apartment that has been freshly renovated that I can offer you. Does tomorrow at two fit into your schedule?”

“You know, I think I might have a thing there, unfortunately.”

“How odd,” the voice spoke with a tinge of amusement. “Your mother assured me that you had no plans…but of course, I can accommodate with a later time if that fits better into your no doubt very busy schedule.”

These scammer types were always so persistent. Tav pressed her lips together in frustration.

“Tomorrow at two sounds good,” she said in a forced, cheery tone.

“Splendid.”

“How do I get there?”

“I will have a car sent for you,” the voice spoke. “I look forward to meeting you, Tilda.”

“Likewise,” she gritted out and ended the call.

She took a deep breath. She was going to kill her mother.

Her jaw dropped slightly as the house came into view from the car window. She had seen the pictures, but it was huge. A monolith of Elizabethan architecture.

The car came to a stop outside the stairs up to the main entrance. A middle-aged man with dark hair and a charming smile came down to greet her. He opened the car door for her and gave her a hand to get out.

“Welcome to Haven,” he said. She recognized the voice from the call she received the day before. “You must be Tilda then. Or Miss Avon, if you prefer. A pleasure to properly meet you.”

“It’s just Tav, actually,” she said with a slightly forced polite smile. “Only my mother calls me Tilda. Nice to meet you too, sir.”

“Tav, is it?” he repeated as if to see if he pronounced it right.

“T. Avon, Tav,” she explained. “There were two Tilda’s in my class when I was a kid. It just kind of stuck. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t catch your last name when you called me?”

“Just Raphael,” he said with a smile and gestured for her to follow him.

Raphael pushed open the doors to the main house and started leading her through it. It was disgustingly lavish inside.

“This is the main part of the house,” he explained. “This is where I live. If you choose to stay with us, you will be living in the outer eastern wing. You will have a shared entrance with your neighbor, but besides that, you have total privacy as you would with any apartment in the city.”

“Right.”

She looked at all the portraits they passed. No doubt they were of the former owners of the house, but she could not help noticing that none of them looked like him. They were all pale, blue-eyed ladies and lords that looked nothing like the olive-skinned and brown-eyed Raphael.

“Should I spare you the history lesson?” he asked and turned to her with a smile while they walked. “I find that so many who come here have already done their research on Google and Wikipedia and whatnot.”

He spoke the names of the sites as a true middle-aged man who had never touched a computer before.

“I haven’t really done any research, no. You can still spare me the history lesson, though. I’m really only here for a place to live.”

“I can appreciate your honesty,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Very well. Let us keep it brief then: This manor has been in my family for centuries and it is very old.”

“Great,” Tav said with a smile at his brief description.

“I will show you the highlights and then leave you to explore for yourself, should you choose to stay here,” he said. “You will be given a map over the entire estate and its side buildings. Too often have new tenants gotten lost trying to find their way back to their apartments.”

“Sounds great. My sense of direction has always been a bit lacking.”

She turned around when she heard footsteps following them over the marble floor. An older man with greying hair was following them around, she noticed. Raphael turned too when he saw her looking.

“John,” Raphael called out in a smooth tone. “Come greet our guest.”

John avoided the gaze of both of them and stayed put. Raphael looked at her and then smiled before they kept walking.

“John is a bit shy,” he said and then leaned in to whisper. “He is at that age where he forgets. His mind is starting to go…”

“Ah,” Tav said.

“Though the House of Hope project welcomes anyone,” he said. “Most of the residents here have one issue or the other that makes living elsewhere difficult. Your mother told me about your little…indulgence problem.”

She almost froze at how he just threw it out there. She quickly tried to gather herself again.

“I don’t know what my mom has told you,” she quickly said. “She has a tendency to exaggerate. I don’t have a drug problem. I had a problem, but it’s done. I’m clean…and have no access to them any longer, besides.”

“I am not here to judge you, Tav,” he said in a sympathetic tone. “Like I said, we welcome anyone. Now. Should I show you where you will be living?”

She was still a bit thrown off, but she gave him a nod. He smiled and turned to call out to the old man who was still trailing them.

“John, would you be a dear and fetch me the tenancy agreement?” Raphael said and then turned back to her. “Come.”

The apartment was nice. Really nice. It was much bigger than the shoebox apartments she could afford in the city. It had everything she needed too: a private bathroom, a bedroom, a modest but nice living room, and even a small kitchen.

Its furniture was in the same red and gold color scheme as the rest of the house. The apartment itself was no mansion, but it would probably be the fanciest place she had ever lived in regardless.

“You can replace the furniture in here with your own, if you please,” Raphael said. “Though, please do not paint or make new holes in the walls. Other than that, this would all be yours to do with as you please.”

“It’s really nice,” she had to admit and then looked at him. “How much?”

There was a quiet knock on the door. He smiled and opened the door where the old man was waiting outside with a few papers. Raphael took them from him.

“Thank you,” he said to John and then handed the tenancy agreement to her. “Everything you need to know is in here.”

She skimmed over the text until she got to the numbers. Her eyes widened and she looked up at Raphael.

“You’re kidding?” she said. “This is practically nothing considering the state of this place.”

Raphael gave a shrug, a smile still plastered on his face.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What’s the catch? There must be something I’m missing.”

“No catch, I can assure you,” he said. “What you see is what you get, my dear.”

Her eyes narrowed further. She scratched her head and looked over the apartment again, as if looking for some deadly fungus growing in the corners or water dripping from the ceiling that she had missed. Nothing.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “You’re obviously not doing this for profit, so what is it then?”

“Charity, mostly,” he said. “I have no family left here and it gets lonesome living alone in this grand stone tomb. I have no lack of space and there is no lack of unfortunate people who deserve a fresh start. It would be a sin to keep it all to myself. Besides, I rather like the company of the tenants living here.”

“Hm,” she hummed, almost convinced.

She looked at down at the tenancy agreement again. Raphael sat down in an armchair and gestured for her to sit in the one opposite him.

“Yes, please, read it through carefully before you sign on the dotted line. If you have any questions, do not feel shy to ask.”

She nodded. Her eyes skimmed over the letters as carefully as they could with the pressure of Raphael sitting there, watching her closely while she read it through. After a few minutes she nodded again and then looked up at him.

“Do you have a pen?”

A wide smile spread over his face as he produced a pen from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Once Raphael left the apartment, she walked around a bit. She threw herself on her new bed and then took out her phone. She found her mom’s name in her contacts and called her up.

“Yes darling? Did you say yes?” her mom’s voice spoke through the phone.

“I did—”

She was interrupted by the sound of excitement from her mom who quickly began babbling about something.

“Yeah, great, sure,��� she said and interrupted her mom’s excited rambling. “Mom, why did you tell my new landlord that I have a problem with drugs? Could you please not air my dirty laundry to strangers in the future?”

“Oh, you are so sensitive, Tilda,” her mom said. “I only did it because he said that it was a place for unfortunate people, and I thought if I told him he would be more inclined to let you stay there. And it worked, so you’re welcome.”

“In the future, don’t tell people about that, yeah? Who else have you told?”

There was silence from the other end of the line.

“Mom?”

“I might have told Ms. Nguyen from downstairs and Timothy from work, but I needed someone to share the burden with, darling.”

“The burden of my personal issues? You are unbelievable,” Tav said with a scoff. “It’s not as if I was doing lines off your toilet or smoking weed at your place. I haven’t touched any of that since Luke and I broke up.”

“Do you want a medal for that? You shouldn’t have touched it in the first place.”

Tav gritted her teeth.

“Don’t turn this on me just because we were talking about something you did. Just…respect my privacy a little bit. That’s all I’m asking. I don’t feel like fighting right now. It’s been a long day.”

There was a beat of silence from the other line.

“Is it nice?” her mom said, changing the subject entirely. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? It looked so pretty in the pictures. I can bring you your things tomorrow if I can get Timothy to drive me there. Oh, it’s going to be so good for you, darling. Are there other people your age living there?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met the others. I’ve only talked to that Raphael guy.”

“Oh well, get out there then. It’s good to know your neighbors. Make a good first impression. I have to go, but you have fun and tell me all about it, yes?”

“Right. Bye.”

She closed the call with a sigh.

She looked around her new apartment once again and took a deep breath, shaking off the frustrations she had felt at her mother’s words.

A chance to start over, she thought. She felt a sliver of positivity, of hope, for the first time in a long time.

[lumi-nescentt]

And When I'm Feeling Alone, You Remind Me Of Home

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Wolff Reader

Warnings: a lot of fluff, like first christmas with your boyfriend and your family vibes

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Going home with his girlfriend should scare him, especially when your dad is a very intimidating Austrian giant and his boss but it's the last thing on his mind when you show signs of a cold.

A/N: I've been in a Christmassy mood since the first snowfall so I felt like writing something with Mick that happened in a cabin in Switzerland bc that's exactly where I'd like to be for the holidays

Spending the holiday season in a cabin in Switzerland with your family and your boyfriend had been Susie’s idea and you couldn’t have been more grateful for your step mom’s idea. You loved this time of the year and spending it without all the people you loved had simply been out of the question. You loved the winter ambiance too much not to share it with all of them. 

It took a bit of sweet talking your dad for him to accept having Mick over for two whole weeks and even more to let him stay in the same room as you but after a little scolding from his wife, Toto had caved in.

It’s not like Toto didn’t like Mick, in fact he cared about him a lot. The relationship he had had with his dad was very strong and he could see a lot of Michael in the younger German. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little protective of his only daughter, even though you were already 23 years old.

With Mick being here, your little brother Jack had someone else to obsess over and the poor Mick had had to deal with Jack following him everywhere he went and asking him a million questions. Mick didn’t seem to mind in the slightest and happily answered every question and even played with him whenever he could. 

It felt a little weird to have one more person joining your family for all your traditions but you loved how dedicated Mick was. Having him here meant that for once, you didn’t have to build your gingerbread house with Jack. As much as you loved your brother, his taste in decoration didn’t really match yours so you were happy to let him do his thing while you and Mick decorated yours. 

Baking the vanilla cookies had been a bit messy because as hard as he was trying, Mick wasn’t the best baker. He always managed to pour half of the ingredients on himself which ended up with Jack throwing flour everywhere because he thought that was what Mick was trying to do. It took twice the time it usually did to make a whole tray of crescent biscuits but they were still very tasty. 

Out of all the things you had done together, your favourite thing had been decorating the Christmas tree. Seeing your dad sway around to festive music with Susie in his arms while Mick chased after Jack who had stolen a Christmas ornament right from your boyfriend’s hands, everything felt just right. The tree was beautiful and next to the usual four stockings now hang a brand new one embroidered with Mick’s name in thin golden letters. 

As Christmas approached, you could see the stockings get more heavy and the way yours was practically overflowing already didn’t go unnoticed. You knew it was Mick’s doing, your stocking was always pretty full the previous years but never to that point so you made sure to thank him as best as you could by giving him a lot of attention and spending most of your time close to him. 

When it was finally time to open the presents that were at the bottom of the tree, you and Mick were woken up by the screams of joy of your brother bursting into your room and tugging on your hand while you stirred awake.

-“y/n ! Come down please.” Jack whined, tugging on your hand with both of his

-“ Mick, make him stop.” you groaned with a laugh, turning around and burying your face into your boyfriend’s chest while Jack climbed onto the bed between the two of you, looking at Mick with a big toothy smile

-“ I got it.” he assured you before turning towards your little brother “Good morning, Häschen. What do you say we go downstairs and bring your sister her coffee ?” 

-“ Will that make her come with us faster ?” he asked, not totally convinced

-“ I promise you it will.” 

-“ Ok let’s go now.” Jack exclaimed before running downstairs as fast as he came in

-“ We’ll be right back, Liebling.” Mick assured you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, following your brother who was now asking Toto to show him how to make coffee

Ten minutes later, you were sitting on the couch downstairs, all cuddled up against Mick with a blanket wrapped around your shoulder while Jack ran back and forth between the tree and the couch to give everyone their presents so you could all start opening them together. With the snow lightly falling outside, it was the perfect moment to do so. 

Since Mick hadn’t asked you for help with picking gifts for your family, you simply assumed he hadn’t bought anything but from the look on your parents’ face when they opened their presents, you could tell that half of what was under the tree had actually been bought by Mick. 

It had been Mick’s idea to go ice-skating with you on the frozen lake after having lunch and while it stopped snowing. The thought was very sweet, Mick wasn’t the best at it but he knew you enjoyed it so he gladly went with you. You spent the entire afternoon spinning around, holding Mick’s hands so he wouldn’t fall and trying to race him, knowing damn well you were way faster than him. Mick played like a gentleman and was never a sore loser, only giving you a quick kiss when you won before asking for a rematch.

The rays of sun piercing through the clouds had tricked you into believing it’d be warmer but the December cold was seeping through the few layers of clothes you had decided to wear. Your beanie was a little too thin so, despite wearing it, you could still feel the cold air hitting your head. 

You had also decided to leave your scarf inside, even though your dad had tried to convince you to wear it. All you had to do was smile and make puppy dog eyes for Toto to leave you be. He was convinced you’d be sick later but he was truly helpless when you asked him something with your pleading eyes.

You had seemed fine when you came back a few hours later so Toto stopped worrying about it and focused on the Harry Potter movie marathon you had started after coming back. Jack was sitting on Susie’s lap, half asleep already despite the fact it wasn’t really late. It seemed like tiredness was also hitting you as you fell asleep halfway through the second movie, nuzzled against Mick who was softly playing with your hair, lulling you to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later in your bed as Mick turned off the lights, settling next to you. Using the remaining strength you had, you shuffled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

-“ Thank you for carrying me, baby.” 

-“ You looked too cosy for any of us to wake you up and your dad was going to do it anyway so I just told him I could do it.” 

-“ You just earned brownie points with him then. He never complains about it but I know I’m not as light as Jack.” 

-“ I can assure you, you weigh nothing angel.”

-“ Thanks, Mickie.”

The two of you fell into comfortable silence and soon enough fell asleep. Mick was usually a pretty heavy sleeper but after feeling you turn around for what felt like the hundredth time, he slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see you awake. However, you were still asleep but your previous relaxed face had now been replaced by a frown as a drop of sweat slid on your forehead. 

Thinking you might have been having a nightmare, Mick turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a dim orange light in the room before trying to wake you delicately. He called your name several times without a response before he tried caressing your shoulder over the cover, finally making you open your eyes.

-“ Are you okay ?” Mick asked worriedly

-“ My head hurts and I’m cold.” you complained, wrapping yourself in the cover and getting closer to Mick

-“ You’re burning up Liebling, do you have any medication you could take ?” 

-“ I didn’t bring anything but Susie probably does, Jack usually gets sick pretty easily so we never leave without it.” 

-“ Alright, I’ll be right back.” Mick tried to move before you tightened your grip around his waist

-“ It’s the middle of the night Mickie, stay here we’ll ask in the morning. I don’t want to be a bother.” 

-“ You’re in pain, I’m not just going to sit back and do nothing when I could help. Also I’m pretty sure if I let you be and Toto found out he’d be pretty pissed at me and I’d actually like to keep my job and my girlfriend.” 

-“ He wouldn’t do that, he’s a big softie and he loves you deep down.” you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut as a chill shook your entire body

-“ That’s it, I’m going to ask Susie. I’m sorry Liebling, I know you’d rather not but I can’t bear to see you in pain.” 

-“ Come back soon please, you’re warm and I’m freezing.” you caved in, knowing you didn’t have enough strength to actually argue

As quietly as he could not to wake up Jack who was sleeping in the other room, Mick knocked on your parents’ door waiting for either of them to open the door or to tell him to come in before entering. After a few seconds, the door opened with a sleepy and confused Toto behind it.

-“ Is everything okay, Mick ?” 

-“ Yeah, sorry to bother you but y/n’s sick and I’m pretty sure she has a fever but I don’t have any medications with me. She said Susie might have brought some.” 

Hearing some noise and feeling the warmth of her husband gone, Susie got out of bed and stood next to Toto catching the end of Mick’s answer. 

-“ I’ll go get them for her, in the meantime, Toto could you make her a cup of hot water with honey and lemon juice please ?” 

-“ I’ll do it Susie, thank you so much.” Mick jumped in, hurrying to the kitchen with a stressed look on his face

-“ He feels guilty…” Susie said, shaking her head

-“ What ? How do you know ?” 

-“ He kept glancing towards you worriedly with a kicked puppy look on his face and he’s been fidgeting with his fingers this whole time.”

-“ I didn’t notice.” Toto admitted with a sigh, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck

-“ It’s okay, you always go protective dad mode whenever any of them is sick and you usually don’t snap out of it until you’re sure you can’t do anything else to help. It’s pretty sweet.”

-“ I feel a bit bad now, I’ll go talk to him.” 

-“ Perfect, I’ll go down with the medication in a bit.” Susie said, kissing her husband on the cheek before starting to look through the bathroom’s cabinets 

When Toto arrived in the kitchen, Mick was pacing, waiting for the water in the kettle to boil. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice he had company until Toto cleared his throat, making him jump slightly. 

-“ Are you okay, kiddo ?”

-“ What ?”

-“ You look stressed, are you okay ?” Toto insisted, resting against the counter as Mick stopped in his tracks

-“ I’m just worried about her.” 

-“ I know, trust me I am too but she’s going to be fine. It’s just a little cold, she’ll be okay in no time. You shouldn’t make yourself sick with worry about it.” 

-“ So you’re not mad at me ?”

-“ Of course not, why would I be ?”

-“ Because I’m the one who convinced her to go ice-skating for hours when it was still cold so it’s my fault if she’s sick now.” 

-“ You’re not the one who refused to wear warmer clothes, Mick. It’s not anyone’s fault but if it was it’d be mine. I’m her father, I should have insisted that she wear her scarf and a thicker sweater too.”

-“ Even if you had, I'm sure she wouldn’t have listened. She’s too stubborn to do so. It’s not your fault either.” Mick smiled as the kettle made a sound signalling it was

Toto watched as Mick carefully filled the cup with water and gently mixed the whole drink, taking a sip to make sure it wasn’t too hot as Susie came in holding pills in her hands. 

-“ Here you go Mick, she can take one now and another in 4 hours if she’s still in pain.”

-“ Thank you, Susie.” 

-“ No problem, now go and make sure the both of you get some sleep.” Susie smiled, giving Mick’s arm a squeeze before going back to her room with Toto following close behind. 

When Mick came back to your room, you were dozing off, barely awake enough to open your eyes and smile weakly at him. Mick sat down next to you and brought you closer to him, making you sit up a bit so you could drink. The two of you sat in silence as you slowly drank the whole cup while Mick played with your hair. 

-"Are you ready to go back to sleep ?” Mick asked, kissing the top of your head

-“ Yeah I think so.” you answered, lowering yourself under the covers 

-“ Come closer, you said you were cold and I want my good night kiss, angel.” 

-“ I don’t want you to get sick because of me.” 

-“ I don’t mind you not kissing me if you’re worried about that but I’m not letting you freeze.” Mick smiled, pulling you towards him so your back was resting against his chest

-“ Good night Mickey.” 

-“ Good night Liebling, wake me if you need anything.” 

Luckily for Mick, the rest of the night went without another incident and you ended up sleeping like a baby. Being sick had tired you out quite a bit so you slept for most of the day, only waking up when your dad knocked to bring you a tray full of warm food and some more medication he had picked up at a nearby pharmacy. 

When you finally got out of bed, it was time for dinner and you just sat down on your chair waiting for the rest of the family to come sit down, watching how Jack immediately ran towards you and gave you a delicate hug, almost afraid to break you if he squeezed you too hard.

-“ You’re not going to hurt me, you can squeeze me a bit harder, Bunny.” you smiled, ruffling his hair

-“ Dad said we had to be very nice to you because you were sick.” 

-“ Dad’s just exaggerating because he doesn’t like seeing me sick but I feel much better already.”

-“ You promise ?” Jack whispered, looking at you with worried eyes

-“ I promise, you’re not getting rid of me this easily. Who would tickle you until you’re screaming, huh ?” you teased him wiggling your fingers against his ribs until he was laughing freely

-“ Well what do we have here ? Is somebody getting attacked and no one’s here to defend them ?” Mick taunted you with a smirk as Jack screamed for help

Before you could stop him, Mick was coming towards you, tearing you away from Jack and pulling you onto his lap as he sat down on his chair.

-“ How do you want to take your revenge Jack ? Should we tickle her too ?” 

-“ Yes !!!” Jack screamed in delight watching as Mick starting poking your ribs, joining in quick after 

-“ Please have mercy.” you said in between laughs, squirming to get away from the two pairs of hands tickling you “ I won’t tickle you again Jack.” 

-“ What do you say little buddy ? Should we stop ?” Mick asked your brother who thought for a second before nodding

-“ Thank you boys, I was starting to run out of air.” 

-“ You can thank Jack, I wouldn’t have stopped if it wasn’t for him.” Mick joked, placing a soft kiss on your cheek

-“ You’re getting confident Mickey.” you smiled at him

-“ Is that a bad thing ?” 

-“ No, I like it. It looks good on you.” you said, turning to face him so you could kiss him properly this time earning a groan of disgust from Jack who ran to hide behind Toto’s legs

Toto and Susie were standing in the archway, Susie’s head resting against Toto’s arms with soft looks on their faces. 

-“ Inviting him was a good idea, Süße.” Toto smiled, bringing Susie closer to him

-“ I know, that’s why I brought it up in the first place. I knew seeing him with her would win you over, you big softie.” 

-“ It would be lying to say I can’t see how in love they are. It’s just weird seeing her so grown up, I still remember how tiny she was when she was born. Mein süßes kleines Mädchen.” he whispered the last part, picking up Jack in his arms

-“ Don’t get all emotional now, she still needs you in her life so come on let’s get dinner started before you start crying.” Susie smiled

The dinner went peacefully, Jack was on his best behaviour, making sure you were alright every five minutes despite you reassuring him which made you smile, he really was a sweet kid. For the whole dinner, Mick’s hand never left you, it was either on your thigh or resting on the back of your chair, tracing circles on your shoulder. 

Despite sleeping all day, you were still tired so instead of watching a Christmas movie with the rest of your family, you and Mick went back to your room to rest. Now that you felt a little better, you let Mick get closer to you and the boy happily snuggled against you and kissed every part of your face with the kind smile that had made you fall for him in the first place. 

You both knew that if he became sick too, you’d be there to take care of him and that was all that mattered. You could be anywhere in the world, stuck in any foreign place, as cliché as it sounded, you knew you’d be alright if you had each other. He made you feel safe in the most uncomfortable situation and you did the same for him, everyone around you could see it. 

The rest of the trip went normally and before you and Mick went back to his family’s cabin, your dad pulled him aside and gave him a hug, surprising the younger man. Before he could say anything, Toto thanked him for taking care of his daughter and said he was glad you were dating someone as nice and thoughtful as him. 

If Mick had been a little less stunned, he would have probably hugged him back but all he was able to do was smile and nod. Without knowing it, your dad had just given Mick one of the best late Christmas presents he could have wished for and Mick was now more sure than ever about the future of your relationship.

[chronicowboy]

"Can I tell you something?"

Honestly, Eddie isn't sure where it comes from. One moment he's watching Buck trying and failing to bite through the long line of melted cheese stretching from his mouth to the slice of pizza held at arm's length, the next something scolding tears through his chest like a bullet from a sniper's rifle and Eddie's mouth falls open before he can think of what he's going to say.

"'Course," Buck mumbles through his mouthful of pizza, breathing around it because its still too hot of course. There's a smear of red sauce on his chin and the pizza is still held aloft about a foot away from his mouth, Eddie finds him desperately beautiful.

"In the truck, after I was shot," Eddie slides the plate under the pizza slice just as Buck drops it, "and after you told me you weren't hurt, there was one last moment that I fought to stay awake."

"Eddie—"

"Not for Christopher, not for you, but for myself." Eddie nods, eyes trained on the picture of Buck and Christopher on the fridge. "I just wanted to look at you. Just for one last moment. When I knew that you were okay, that you weren't hurt, that I didn't have to worry about you or Chris. I just wanted to look at you." Ironic, he thinks, that he can't look at Buck now. He sucks in a sharp breath and turns to meet Buck's dazed blue eyes. "I wanted you to be the last thing I saw." Buck swallows, that damn string of cheese still hanging from his lips. "And then I woke up to Ana sat next to me in the hospital, and I don't think I've ever been more disappointed in my life."

The loft hasn't been this silent since the morning after that one fateful night during quarantine when they'd thought it would be a good idea to get hammered and play truth or dare, and nobody could look each other in the eye over the several terrible secrets that had been revealed.

Its that same cloying silence now.

Not their usual silence. Not the comfortable silence Eddie revels in. Not the warm silence that greeted him when Eddie walked into the loft with a pizza after asking Buck to call him with an "emergency" to get out of a date with Pepa's latest "perfect woman".

"W-why are you telling me this?" Buck stutters out. "Why- Why now?"

"Because I've been on four dates since you died and none of them have felt remotely close to the night we scammed ten Porterhouses out of the Chief." Eddie shrugs, looking out to the red umbrella flapping in the wind on the balcony. He swings his gaze around to Buck. "Because you said you had the answers, and I'm hoping with everything in me that you have the answer to this question."

"W-what, um, what question is that? E-exactly?" Buck asks, voice breathy.

"If I told you that I'd been falling since that ambulance exploded," Eddie smiles, its a shaky thing full of fear, "would you catch me?"

"Always," Buck breathes without any hesitation, laying his big hand on Eddie's forearm. "Always, Eddie."

"And if I asked for your heart?" Eddie manages to choke out.

"You've had it the whole time, Eddie." Buck smiles, just as shaky as Eddie's had been, but bright and brilliant. "It only started beating again for you."

"One last question?" Eddie raises an eyebrow, his own smile beginning to ache in his cheeks.

"Anything," Buck promises.

"Will you kiss me?"

"Now, I'm not sure about that," Buck grins, all smug and self-assured despite the fucking cheese still on his fucking chin. "Don't I get a date first, Diaz?"

"What? Pizza and beer isn't good enough for you?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow, plan already forming in his head for a homecooked meal lit by candles in the kitchen at home, undoubtedly a panicked call to Bobby when the lasagne doesn't go to plan.

"I'd like to be wooed," Buck says haughtily. "I died, I won you steaks, I think I deserve a little wooing."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"I do actually," Buck grins at him.

"How about you finish your pizza first," Eddie reaches up to cup Buck's cheek, uses his thumb to catch the string of cheese and gently pushes it past Buck's lips which open for him willingly, "and then we can circle back round to the wooing?"

Eddie pulls his thumb from Buck's mouth with a pop and watches Buck's pupils dilate until the blue of his irises is entirely eclipsed.

"Nope, wooed enough," Buck blurts out before grabbing Eddie's face and crashing their lips together clumsily.

Its the best first kiss of his life.

[sorrelchestnut]

Birds on a Wire, Lucanis/f!Rook, 2/?

Part One.

The next morning she is awake before him, as has become usual the last few months.  Lucanis sleeps well these days, now that he no longer fears what his body will do once unattended.  Her troubles with the dreaming world have no such simple solutions.  Lucanis makes a mental note to confer with Emmrich the next time they meet, and goes looking for his wayward lover.

He finds her in the courtyard, debriefing with the Caretaker.  "-need tending," she's saying.  "They all think they're real now and start wilting if they don't get watered.  And Bellara will be back from Arlathan in a couple days, can you make sure she eats and sleeps at regular intervals?  She's pretty good about it if you remind her."

"Of course, Dweller.  I will see to it."

"Thanks, mate.  I know things have been quiet but if you have any problems in the Crossroads send a message through the Treviso eluvian.  We'll be back in a flash to see it handled."

"Of course, Dweller.  Safe travels."

"We'll certainly do our best.  Hullo, pet," she says, turning with a smile as he approaches on her right.  "You all packed?"

"The essentials, at least," he confirms, hefting his duffel.  "What about you, is that all you're taking with you?"

Rook shoulders her own much smaller rucksack and grins at him.  "Not much to take, you know me.  Couple spare daggers and a change of clothes and I'm all set."

Clothes that are just as stained and tattered as the set she's currently wearing, unfortunately.  The past months have not been kind to anyone's belongings but…  Lucanis pictures his grandmother's face and winces. "We could both use a refresh of our wardrobe," he says diplomatically.  "We'll have to visit my old tailor, if he's still in business."

She only shrugs.  Someone told Lucanis once that Rivainis like to wear their wealth; clearly no one saw fit to inform Rook.  "Your coin, dove.  You ready to go?"

"At your lead, signora."

If someone told him six months ago that he would grow accustomed to traveling halfway across the continent in the blink of an eye, Lucanis would have laughed in their face.  But he thought the same thing when he first took a life, and with enough repetition that grew to hold all the intrigue of yesterday's lunch.  Today he steps through the eluvian at Rook's heels and into the cool, damp air of an Antivan winter, and thinks only with irritation that it looks as if it's going to rain.

Rook's clearly thinking the same.  "Oh, look at that sky.  Might have a storm on our hands."

Ugh.  "You're not wrong," he's forced to agree, eyeing the sky with disfavor.  "If we don't hurry we're going to get caught in it."

"Oh, you think?"

He turns the skeptical look on her.  She's practically bouncing on her heels, giddy as a child.  "You cannot be serious."

"Do you know how long it's been since I've even seen a storm?  In Minrathous it's a light drizzle four hours a day like clockwork, and the Crossroads are mildly sunny night and fuckin' day."

Yes, and Lucanis loves it.  He'd go back right now if he could.  "Have you ever tried to run rooftops in a downpour?"

"I've boarded ships in a hurricane, love, still think they're cracker."  She laughs at the expression on his face.  "Can't help it, I just love loud weather."

"Thunderbolts and lighting!" Spite agrees.

It's Spite's nature to be argumentative, and if he can suck up to Rook in doing so then all the better.  But Lucanis thought better of her.  "You are a very strange person.  There is nothing enjoyable about wet clothing."

She laughs again and slings an arm around his shoulders.  "Aww, poor grumpy Lucanis.  C'mon, Spite, let's go before his highness gets his feet wet."

There is a fledgling waiting for them at the canal docks, though Lucanis did not take the time to send his grandmother a reply.  She must have set the boy to wait as soon as she sent the letter, as if to remind Lucanis that it is beneath the First Talon to procure his own gondola.  He tucks his sigh behind his teeth.

"Your name?"

"Marco, monsignor."

Lucanis doesn't recognize him, but then, he doesn't know most of the fledglings in Treviso these days.  Caterina kept herself busy during the occupation, pulling in all manner of disaffected youths with dreams of being freedom fighters.  He wonders wearily how many of them will survive the brutal reality of a Crow's apprenticeship without the numbing salve of patriotic fervor to fuel their ambitions.  There will be a great many failures over the next few years, is his estimate, and as always, those few who succeed will be forced to cut their matriculation from the throats of their less fortunate brethren.  And Lucanis will have to be the one to order it done.

(didn't want this. never wanted THIS)

"Good to meet you.  Are you to take us to the villa?"

"Yes, monsignor."  His gaze roams unsubtly around the empty dock.  "And will, ah, your luggage be traveling separately?"

"Most people just call me Rook, lad."

Under other circumstances Lucanis might enjoy the fledgling's wide-eyed look of panic.  "Signora- Monsignora, I did not mean-"

"Ignore her, Marco," Lucanis instructs with a sigh.  "We're ready to depart when you are."

Rook gives the white-faced boy a clap on the shoulder and jumps into the waiting gondola, sure-footed as a cat.  Lucanis follows her more circumspectly, dropping his duffel at her feet.  "Play nice with the children, cara."

"I'm always nice."

"I know of several who would disagree."

"Yeah, but how many of them are still alive to say so?"

"Ah, the 'leave no witnesses' approach.  Very Antivan."

"Learned from the best."

Lucanis soon falls silent as the gondola progresses through the canals, his capacity for banter exhausted by the presence of their witness, but Rook nobly takes up the banner of conversation with some convoluted story of a failed treasure hunt involving three pirate ships and a dragon.  Lucanis listens and makes noises at all the right intervals, but his attention is fixed on their surroundings as they pass.

(enemy territory)

It's not like this for normal people, Lucanis thinks.  Neve is justifiably cautious taking a stroll around Docktown's meaner streets, but she watches the crowds, looking for a common thug or paid mercenary to try their luck.  Harding keeps an eye on her purse and Taash shoulders through crowds like a ship cuts the water, but neither of them move through the world as if death could come at any minute.  Even Rook, who handles her blade with a particular familiar flourish that Lucanis has very carefully not questioned how she might have been taught, doesn't share his reflexive, ceaseless paranoia any time they go somewhere he hasn't personally vetted.  He wouldn't wish that fear on his worst enemy - but neither would he want her denied of any tool that might keep her safe.

(WE will keep her safe!)

That's what Lucanis's mother thought, and his father, and all his aunts and uncles.  Thirty years ago, House Dellamorte numbered in the dozens: five children, four spouses, eight grandchildren, countless body servants and retainers.  Of those, only Lucanis remains.  And he dares to imagine Rook beside him in this pit of vipers?

(blood and brine.  storm and steel!)

True.  Rook has survived worse things than any the Antivan Crows can offer, that's to be sure.  Even now, her laugh comes easy, her haphazard tale flowing like good wine - but her gaze is watchful, flitting from the rooftops behind Lucanis to the streets ahead and back again.  And underneath the fold of her tattered traveling cloak, her hand rests casually near the hilt of her sword.  Perhaps it will be enough.

Part Three